Chapter Thirty-Five - A Terrible Mistake


    Chapter Thirty-Five - A Terrible Mistake


    There are two kinds of survivalists. The enthusiasts, who only wish to participate in a hobby that could well save their lives later, and the true survivalists, those who wish to abandon the shackles that society has placed around their necks.


    This forum is for the true survivors.


    --Opening Page of a Dark Web Forum, 2025


    ***


    Gomorrah flew a wide circle around the top of the brick factory. It was pretty much what I imagined when she described the place to me.


    Big, made of red bricks, with a tin roof that had seen better days and three big chimneys poking out above. A large channel in the dirt ran up and through the building, and I had the impression that it was once meant to pass water through.


    Maybe this was one of those super old mill-like places, using hydro-electricity or something to keep working.


    Right now, the nearest river forked away from the factory, and the channel leading up to it was partially filled in. Plenty of stagnant water in the bottom though. I couldnt wait to smell it.


    The complex itself went on for a while, with a dozen smaller buildings and warehouses, even what looked like a small town filled with mobile homes nearby.


    Are you sure were the only ones for this job? I asked.


    What do you mean?


    No explosives kinda cuts me off at the knees, and this place looks like its going to be nothing but close-quarters fighting. Its not exactly my forte.


    There were a few other hives spotted, but this one seemed like the easiest to take on. Its still small. The others have started spawning antithesis past the single-digits already. The Familys planning on hitting most of them from orbit later.


    Oh, shit, I said. It was basically going to be raining god-rods in a few hours then. Not this one?


    Not this one, and not any that are in very sensitive areas, Gomorrah said. They needed someone a little more delicate to take care of this hive in particular.


    I nodded. And you instantly thought of me when the word delicate crossed your mind. Makes perfect sense.


    Gomorrah chuckled. Yes, that is a word I would use while describing you. Id perhaps add in before it, but thats up for debate. She gestured out ahead. Im going to land on that rooftop there. The flat one. The Fury can hover while we jump out.


    Got it, I said.


    We flew lower, the Fury surprisingly quiet as we coasted to a gentle stop atop one of the smaller buildings next to the main factory. I guessed that it was some sort of admin building, next to the parking lot.


    I opened the door, glanced down to make sure Gomorrah didnt want me to drop too far, then shifted out to the side.


    The roof clanged as I landed, then it rattled even louder as Gomorrah touched down next to me. She reached around and adjusted the pack of her heavy flamethrower. Is the area clear? she asked.


    Dead, I said. Right up next to the factory. Its in the shadows, next to this little entrance spot thats sticking out. The entrance was a boxy protrusion on the side of the factory, with a peaked tin roof and a few windows that I couldnt quite see into. Cant see what killed it. Want to wait here?


    Certainly. Leave the door entirely open, in case I need to join you.


    I nodded, then slid the door open. It creaked a bit, and the brick I jammed in place to keep it open wasnt exactly quiet either.


    After listening in for a momentthe only sounds I could hear were the faint pitter-patter of a very weak drizzle of rain and the creak of an old building movingI ran out and across the parking lot of the factory. I kept my eyes on a swivel until I slowed to a stop next to the model three.


    The thing was very dead, its face blasted right off so that all that remained were fleshy giblets hanging on with sinew and skin. Looks like someone shot our alien pal here, I said over the coms to Gomorrah.


    Can you date it?


    Uh. I touched the body. Do model threes give off much heat? This thing is room temp.


    While most Antithesis will give off some heat, it is usually much cooler than the average Earthly mammal. More comparable to the temperature seen in cold-blooded creatures. Exceptions exist, of course. Models bred to resist colder climates will actually be significantly warmer.


    That was good to know.


    Im going into the lobby, I said.


    Careful, Gomorrah warned. I imagine whomever shot the model three might still be around.


    I nodded, even if Gomorrah couldnt see, and moved over to the doorway into the factory. Turns out, her warning was warranted. Oh hey, a booby trap, I said.


    What sort? Gomorrah asked. Remember, no explosives. Not even if theyre not yours.


    Not a bomb. This is a bit more low-tech than that. Above the door was a long piece of string, wedged between the doorway and the doorframe. Peeking through the glass on the door, I could make out the string going above, and holding onto a trio of tin cans with holes punched into them for the cord.


    If my guess was right...


    I reached up, grabbed hold of the string, then carefully opened the door.


    The string loosened, and would have fallen if I wasnt holding it.


    Once the door was open a crack, I checked around for more traps, and finding none, slid inside, still holding onto the cord. I gently, gently gave it more slack until the strung-together cans touched the floor.


    Looks like someone rigged some cans to clatter around if you opened the door, I said.


    Interesting, Gomorrah said. Im running over to your position now.


    I watched as Gomorrah darted across to where I was.


    She was only halfway over when someone opened fire on her.


    ***