The Burned

Were it not for the insistent hum of the EM drive's spinning magnetic resonators, the cabin of the small lifter would have been unbearably quiet. John Redding fingered the tiny brass heart-shaped locket that his fiancee had given him only hours before and he couldn't help a tear from rolling down his cheek. He glanced across the cabin at his younger sister afraid that she had perceived his despair but she was staring out of the small round window into dusty opacity.

He wiped the tear from his cheek as if he was scratching his chin and spoke in a controlled, artificially confident voice, “What are you staring at anyway, sis? All I see his dust.”

Maya smiled and shrugged and looked at the floor, then up at her older brother. Her wavy blonde hair was disheveled and her eyes tired. She hadn't slept at all in the thirty-something hours since the attack on Atlanta.

“I don't know John. I guess... I wonder what's beyond it all?”

“That's easy. West Central Campus, our new home. I hear it's amazing. Great schools, gardens, libraries. You're gonna love it.”

She allowed herself a smile, more for John's sake than anything, and turned back to the window.

“Yeah,” she said, “A new life.”

The pilot of the vessel was a gruff man who called himself Captain Woody. He chimed in with the raspy voice of someone who has breathed too much of the hot dust in his day, “I still stare into it. No point, obviously; you don't need to see out of the window to pilot a lifter... Computer does the flying, really. I just keep an eye on the console. It's for the best that you can't see through the dust though... We're over the Scorch now. Pretty much hell on earth down there.”

Maya shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She had heard the stories. The Scorch was the land of monsters, the afflicted and radiation-stricken, populated by deformed cannibals known as 'the burned' wandering through the never-ending radioactive dust storm.

Woody continued, “Just last week we lost a bird not far from here. I guess the burned managed to put together some kind of weapon... A coil gun says the brass, just like our mag pistols. Just a huge bank of capacitors, a series of solenoids, and some kind of metal slug... Linear magnetic accelerator. Took'em right out of the sky.”

“Hey Captain,” spoke up John, “We just lost our home... My sister's fifteen. Maybe we don't need to talk about this right now.”

“What happened to them?” asked Maya. “The people who crashed, I mean.”

“Oh, they activated a beacon... Managed to get into their lightsuits... Epsilon Base sent out a rescue mission right away. They made it out. Minor injuries, no serious radiation exposure.”

John sighed. “Well that's a relief anyway.”

“I actually spoke to the pilot that got shot down. He saw'em – the burned. Everything you've heard is true. They're a bunch of disgusting mutants... They surrounded the crash site but the defense system on the lifter was still active and kept them from coming too close. Killed a couple of'em, I guess.”

“How did they target the lifter?” asked John, trying to steer the conversation toward technicalities.

“Well, you know... They're monsters – freaks, really – weird rituals and beliefs... but they aren't stupid. In fact they're pretty damn cunning. Got to be to survive out there. Over the years we've had various accidents and some of our men were lost to the Scorch... And the dust and water – it changes you. You become one of them. So the burned do have access to some of our technology, and occasionally even someone who knows how to operate it. Maybe they salvaged and repurposed a radar unit from a crashed lifter – I don't know exactly.”

More silence, and the strangely peaceful hum of the spinning EM drive.

“So what do you do, kid?” asked Woody to John. “You're some kind of scientist yourself. Must be kind of important to get a priority lift from that smoking crater all the way to West Central.”

“Shit man, can you be a little more sensitive? It's an entire city, tens of thousands of people, most of them dead now – our parents, my fiancee – everyone! A crater? It's called Atlanta!” John's grip on the heart-shaped locket became painful and he slammed his closed fist on the seat next to him. “Atlanta!”

“Ah – I'm sorry. My apologies, truly. I'm told I don't have much of a filter. I've been fighting this war my whole life... fighting these damned machines. The war is all I know. Maybe I'm too used to it. Please forgive me.”

“Whatever,” sighed John.

Maya closed her eyes as if trying to disappear and John softened a bit for her sake.

“Well... what do you do, Mr. Redding?” asked Woody, sensing the energy shift. “We've got another couple hours to this flight.”

“I study plasma cymatics. It's an emerging field. Lightsuit technology is based off of polymorphic plasma constructs but the true potential of the technology is far beyond lightsuits. One day we hope to cool the Scorch.”

Woody scoffed incredulously. “You can't be serious.”

“We're closer than you think.”

“Half the world has been destroyed and you think you can...”

There was a brief moment of silence in which John couldn't help but indulge in a short-lived smugness as the weight of his statement sunk in... Cool the Scorch? Impossible...

Suddenly a shrill rapid beeping cut through the moment. Jenna, the onboard AI spoke, Warning! Incoming projectile! Evasive maneuvers! Please fasten-

The explosion sounded like a trainwreck, all wrenching, twisting, snapping metal, and sent the whole craft spinning on every axis. All members of the lifter had been strapped in, luckily. They could hardly hear their own screams over the cacophony of alarms and tearing metal as the craft spun into a crazy free-fall. The lifter was not particularly aerodynamic, relying almost entirely on its advanced propulsion systems to stay aloft, and now, without power, was tumbling through the air like a rock. A gaping hole had opened in the side of the cabin but a high density plasma shield kept the so-called hot dust from rushing in.

“Maya! Maya get your lightsuit on now!” yelled John as he activated his own lightsuit through his wrist computer. A cool translucent blue-yellow plasma, charged and crackling, spread out from the tiny device and surrounded his body, clinging to him like a second skin. “Maya! Your lightsuit!”

She somehow heard him over the unfolding disaster and slapped the device on her wrist. The lightsuit activated in moments and she nodded to John.

The AI spoke in a garbled voice, Emergency beacon activated. Epsilon Base notified of our location. We are in uncontrolled descent. Activating Meissner brakes...

There was a sharp jolt as the type II superconductor system was activated creating flux drag through the earth's magnetic field, slowing them significantly.

Warning! Incoming projectile-

With another massive impact the entire front half of the lifter was ripped away. John caught the briefest glimpse of Captain Woody's unconscious ragdoll body flung out into the dust. There was a moment of ringing clarity as John and Maya looked at each other, just as the hot dust rushed into the cabin... No time for fear, just presence.

And then they crashed.

Some time later it was her name that brought him back to consciousness, “Maya... Maya! Maya where are you?”

He noticed that he was somehow still clutching the tiny heart-shaped locket from Juliet. He quickly kissed it and tucked into his pocket, then fumbled with his restraints until he managed to free himself. He fell roughly four or five feet to the sand below. “Maya! Where are you?!”

There was a groan to his right and he crawled toward it, only able to see a few inches ahead through the howling dust. He found his sister still strapped into her seat which had been ripped free from the craft itself. He unbuckled her and laid her gently on the ground, still unconscious.

“Jenna, are you still active?”

The AI replied, Yes, Mr. Redding.

“Scan Maya for injuries.”

Scanning. Maya Redding likely has a concussion but otherwise no serious injuries. She should regain consciousness shortly. Mr. Redding, several burned are approaching. The lifter's defense system has been destroyed. There is a weapon under the seat. Recommend arming yourself immediately. Coding weapon to your biosignature.

“Oh shit.” John dove toward the seat and found a magnetic pistol in the compartment underneath.

Displaying enhanced image overlay. Burned approaching from your ten o'clock.

The plasma of the lightsuit filtered the dust very effectively so that John was still able to breathe almost normally and it now projected a few red silhouettes in front of his face... He leveled the mag pistol ahead of him. The gun had two hundred rounds, just tiny BB-sized rolls of metallic ribbon that could be accelerated to deadly velocity by the powerful electromagnetic coils of the gun. The bullets were designed to unroll upon impact, flowering open with organ-shredding, bone-breaking force.

“Stay back! Stay back! I'm warning you! I'm armed!”

He aimed low just in front of the feet of the three approaching strangers and took two quick shots. The bullets shrieked menacingly and hit the ground with decisive thuds. The three stopped in their tracks.

“Stay away from us!”

“We mean you no harm,” came the hideous voice of one of the strangers, raspy and ruined as if he'd drank a glass of muriatic acid. “We come to offer you shelter.”

“Shelter – shelter?! You shot us down!”

“We don't target human craft on purpose. We thought you were a death-bringer, a drone of the Rogue AI!” the gravelly voice continued, “I am so sorry! Please let us help you! We mean you no harm.”

John kept his mag pistol aimed at the burned in one hand and tried to rouse Maya with the other.

“Maya, get up!”

“What... happened?” she said groggily and sat up, holding her head. Then she looked around and screamed. “We're in the Scorch!”

Mr. Redding, said Jenna, I just received a transmission. I'm sorry to inform you that Epsilon Base has been attacked and destroyed by the Rogue AI. I do not have the power to transmit another distress call over the radio interference of the hot dust. Your lightsuit has 62 hours of charge remaining. Recommend you prioritize finding a power source immediately.

Three months later...

The entire tribe had gathered for the ceremony. Three elders stood around the sacred fire, their deformed inhuman physiques projecting grotesque shadows on the cave wall.

“John Redding,” spoke Mossy Corazon, the leader of the tribe. “You see the truth now?”

“Yes Mossy,” sobbed John. He had intended to maintain his composure but the reality of the situation was undeniable. The burned were just people – good people – amazing and beautiful people, in fact. They had saved his life, and even protected Maya in their secret caves, allowing them both to keep their lightsuits charged. The skin of the burned was blistered and they were missing hair and teeth and their bones were contorted demonically from the radiation damage – but their hearts...

John fingered the heart-shaped locket and smiled.

“Once you do this,” spoke Mossy gravely, “Once you drink of our water you become one of us. You will have accepted your portion of the karma of the burning world and done your part to process it... Your body will change, yes, and you will become gruesome like us... But on another level – beyond the superficial – you will become something profoundly beautiful. Will you partake of our sacrament?”

“It's an honor.”