Chapter 50: Fifty – Milk Run

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Chapter Fifty - Milk Run

“The idea of shelters for cover and protection harkens back to World-War Two Britain, where buildings were built where people could find cover during bombing runs. During the Cold War, fallout shelters appeared across the world as countries feared the approach of a nuclear assault.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t until the third major incursion that governments began to invest in the production of incursion shelters. Before that, even with the warning from Samurai across the world, most nations chose to believe that the initial incursions were one-off events.

Now, nearly every city has at least one ‘vault’ per block. These range from private, pay-to-enter facilities comparable to hotels, to large cement structures where thousands can huddle together and pray for salvation.”

--Extract from A History of the Vault, 2034

***

Our little caravan of two rolled across barren streets, sometimes twisting around abandoned hover cars and wheeled, automated semi trailers whose programming had glitched out as soon as the incursion began and the traffic came to a stand-still.

I leaned my head against the window and wished that we were moving faster. “Hey, Myalis?” I asked.

Yes?

“Are we doing the right thing?”

The AI took a while to respond. I was sure it was an artificial pause.

It would depend on where your priorities lie. If you are looking to help the locals while also remaining relatively safe, then what you’re doing is, without a doubt, the right thing. The probability of meeting any heavy resistance is very low.

“And if my priority is to help the most people?” I asked.

In that case you would need to head towards the centre of the incursion and do your best to stem the tide, as it were. The risks inherent in that are quite high, and I do not think you are equipped for such yet. Though you do have some points to spare.

I scrunched my nose in thought. Were the others in the car listening to me speak to someone what wasn’t there? Judging by their silence that was a resounding yes. I figured being a Samurai meant that I was allowed a bit of eccentricity. “What’s the middle ground?”

As it stands, thanks to your upgraded cyberwarfare suite, I was able to glean some surface information from the organization you agreed to assist. There are seven vaults between the hospital you are heading to and the nearest orange zone that were marked as low priority. There is a good chance that the people within those will not be rescued. Depending on how the other Vanguard respond to the antithesis threat, their lives might be forfeit.

“Shit,” I said. “What about deeper in?” I sat up straighter. I could imagine being stuck in a vault, wondering if someone was coming to rescue me. Hell, I didn’t need to imagine it, that had been me some hours ago.

The vaults within the orange zones, other than those with VIPs, have been marked as losses. Most of those within the red zones have been breached already.

I chewed on my lip. “Right.” Turning, I looked to the driver, then over my shoulder to Monroe. “Okay. Bit of a change of plans,” I said. Could I do that? They were treating me well enough, but so far I’d been playing along with their script. “We’re heading past the hospital and into the edge of the orange zone. There are a few vaults there that are still occupied.”

“That’s outside the remit of our mission, ma’am,” Monroe said.

“That’s cute,” I said. “But I don’t really care. You can either come with me, or drop me off and let me go on my own. Either way, there are folks that need saving.”

The sergeant shifted in his seat, then raised a hand. I could just barely make out his voice from within his helmet as he no doubt talked to someone above him in the chain of command. “We have permission from Major Hunt to assist you. But not to enter the red zones,” he said a moment later.

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I nodded slowly. That... was better than I was hoping. “Can we call up transportation or something?” I asked.

“We could escort them to the hospital. There will be pick up from there already,” Monroe suggested.

I raised a finger in a ‘one minute’ gesture. “Myalis, is there a way for me to connect to Google? I need a map of the region.”

I think I can assist you with that.

My new HUD filled with a floating three dimensional map of the region, including markers for the shelters Myalis had pointed out, and a blue circle showing where we were. “You’re the best,” I said.

I do try.

“Can you, uh, highlight the hospital?”

One of the buildings lit up in pink, then a section of the map turned orange. It overlapped with a pair of shelters. There were two blocks between the hospital and the orange zone. Taking a car would mean taking a meandering path around the roads, but the aliens weren’t taking an Uber over to the hospital, they’d be going through buildings and alleyways and flying.

Still, there was a decent chunk of ground to cover.

I eyed the map some more, then rolled my eyes as a bunch of yellow arrows started to point to a few spots and notes appeared hovering above them reading ‘deploy from here’ and ‘relay point.’ Myalis was just being helpful. And... she probably knew best.

“Right, we can stop here,” I said, pointing to one of the spots marked by a yellow arrow.

“Uh,” the driver said. “Ma’am, you’re just pointing at my speedometer.”

I blinked, realized that they couldn’t see the map hovering in my vision, then felt my cheeks warming up. “Uh, you have a GPS on this thing?”

“Of course.”

“Right, right let me just... Myalis?”

That was terribly embarrassing. Do you want me to make it more obvious that augmented reality projections aren’t visible to others? It would save you from looking quite so... bizarre.

“Myalis,” I hissed.

Very well!

“Oh, yeah, I got it,” the driver said.

I turned around to face the sergeant. “Are any of your guys coming with me? Or are you all going to stay and defend the cars?”

Monroe rubbed at the underside of his helmet where his neck was hidden by some rubbery material. “I’ll send fireteam Bravo with you. That’s myself and three others. Fireteam Alpha can guard the vehicles.”

I nodded. “Four of us, plus one of me... Myalis, any idea how many people are in those shelters?”

The first one I marked is a small private shelter linked to four apartment blocks. Its maximum capacity is four hundred, but from what I can tell there are only sixty residents within. I suspect most were out of their home when the incursion started. The second shelter is a municipal one. Capacity one thousand. It’s at double that.

Double... so two thousand civilians in one shelter? I’d seen mega shelters before. They were cramped places with beds and some food and seats. Like a really weird cross between a subway station and a motel. “Fuck, that’s a lot of people.”

“Ma’am?”

I frowned at the empty air. “First shelter had about sixty people in it.”

“That’ll be difficult to corral with just four of us, but I’m certain we can manage if they’re cooperative. It won’t be too much of a strain on the busses from the hospital either.”

“The second shelter has two thousand.”

There was a long bit of silence.

“Well fuck,” the driver finally said. “The fuck are we meant to move that many meatheads?”

“Stow it private,” Monroe said. “I’ll... see about getting more transports to come to the hospital.”

“How in the fuck did so many people stay behind?” I wondered. It was a dumb question though. We had almost stayed in the tower we were in, with its fucked up shelter and all, and that was in the middle of an orange zone.

How many groups of strangers were left in the city? Those crowds near the barricades, were there enough people there to account for the millions that lived in the area of the incursion? What about those that couldn’t move so easily?

I felt a bit sick to my stomach as the full scope of the incursion started to press down on me. And I was one of those meant to save them all?

“Myalis, those other shelters?” I left the question hanging.

The map returned, this time with numbers over each shelter. The big one on the edge of an orange zone was the largest, but a couple of others had over five hundred people stuck in them.

That wasn’t going to be easy, or pretty. “We’re going to need a lot of busses,” I said.

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