Wasteland Rules: Born to Fight (The World After Book 2) (19 page)

June 22, 2029

Hartsfield Jackson Airport Atlanta, GA

   Despite the darkness, Derek and Rora drove back
to the airplane graveyard to retrieve the others. The soldiers and the techs
were very glad to see them. The techs checked the transporter to make sure the
vehicle and its cargo were still good for the long trip to the NASA complex;
while the wounded soldiers were loaded on to the cargo bed under the shuttle
and made as comfortable as possible. Once everything and everyone was secured
they headed out. It was a tight fit in the cab, but everyone squeezed in.

   The first seven hours of the journey were
uneventful. They traveled in silence down the abandoned highway, everyone lost
in their own thoughts. The techs and soldiers drifted off to sleep; exhausted
from the battles of the day and night. Derek handled the large vehicle
carefully as they rolled down the still amazingly preserved roadway. He had
learned to drive almost every type of vehicle there was as part of his Special
Forces and black ops training. And with no traffic or speed traps to worry
about he could keep the behemoth right in the middle of the road. Quite frankly
it was easier than driving a tank.

   He decided to take a different way back than they
had come to avoid a possible ambush. They seemed to have a traitor or spy
informing everyone else where he was going. So the new route might throw them
off. If it was some form of electronic surveillance than it wasn’t going to help.
But, better to take the chance that it might. The new route would take them
east of Tallahassee on I-10, past Jacksonville, and then down the coast on I-95.
It was a risk for Reapers, but they were probably back in their camps licking
their wounds.

   The sun rose as they neared St. Augustine and
they were back within radio distance. Derek grabbed the microphone and tried to
contact the command team at NASA. The radio quickly crackled to life in reply.

    “Good to hear from you Storm.” He heard Augie reply.
“We weren’t sure if you made it since we expected you back last night.”

   “We ran into some unexpected resistance from
Machineheads and raiders.” Derek informed him grimly. “We lost both MRAPs and
most of your soldiers.”

   The general cursed. “Those men had families and
those MRAPs were a precious commodity.”

   “It wasn’t like I was trying to get them killed.”
Derek snapped. “They were waiting in ambush for us and had advanced weapons.”

   There was a pause. “What do you mean?” Augie
asked. “Were they working together with someone?”

   “Worse. They were prepared by someone and worked
as separate parts of the same plan. Fairly elaborate, actually. And the raiders
were surprisingly disciplined. The Machineheads took out the MRAPS and weakened
us, forcing us to spend the night. Then the raiders attacked and kept us pinned
down while they stole the transporter.” Derek explained.

   “So you didn’t get the shuttle.” Dr. Banek chimed
in with concern in his voice.

   “No, I got it. I chased the raiders down and
brought the shuttle back.” Derek told him.

   “That’s a relief.” Dr. Banek replied.

   “We should be there in about two hours.” Derek
let them know.

   There was another pause before Augie responded.
“We might have a small problem here…”

   “What now?” Derek asked in disgust.

   “The Pope is blocking the entrance and
threatening to destroy us.” Dr. Banek chimed in.

   Derek was flabbergasted. The Pope? He was in New
Rome all the way on the other coast. What was he doing here? He wasn’t really
the Pope, not in the traditional sense. He hadn’t been elected by a conclave of
cardinals in the Vatican. No one was sure if the Vatican even existed anyway.
The last he had heard about Europe, they were in the midst of terrible wars of
ethnic cleansing after the collapse of the E.U.

   No, this Pope had elected himself. He was a
former actor, Melvin Glibson, who had subscribed to a harsh form of Catholicism
even prior to the Collapse. Following the Collapse he had gathered some
followers and using weapons he apparently collected prior to the Collapse, they
carved out a small enclave in Los Angeles. They had struck some kind of deal
with G-21 that left them untouched by the gangs.

   G-21 was an alliance of gangs ruled by the
mysterious Imperator. He was once a high ranking LAPD officer. They used a
feudal system and each gang was ruled by a so-called Lord. They had carved up
the city between them and each stayed in their own respective “demesne”. They
only worked together to repel outsiders. They had a loose alliance with Aztlan,
the northernmost of the Mexican kingdoms, which protected them from Texas. And
the U.S.T.G. didn’t have the reach yet to get to them.

   Most of the gangs were Hispanic and Catholic.
Since the Collapse, many people found comfort in religion and wanted to hear
the harsh words sermonized by Glibson. He gathered quite a following including
many of the gang members. He called it the Reborn Catholic Church and it
followed the pre reform ways of the Church. Then he started hearing voices
after he said he was struck by a bolt of light from heaven. He said that God
spoke to him and gave him directions to build a New Rome. He had begun ordering
his followers to build a city of marble and gold in the Hollywood Hills.

   The first person to question him had been the
leader of the LA Crime Family who ran that area. Glibson pointed at him and
called down the wrath of god. Everyone began to laugh, but a blast from the
heavens had obliterated him right before everyone’s eyes. Glibson proclaimed it
the Hand of God and declared himself the new Pope. No one questioned him after
that. And he had created a small city where his whim was law and everyone
followed on fear as much as faith.

   As far as Derek knew, Glibson had never left New
Rome. He lived inside a palatial cathedral known as the Palladium. The Pope had
become removed from day to day operations of the new church, which was left to
the Arch Prelate. The Pope was instead focused on his “spiritual retreats”
which helped specially chosen new members assimilate to the church. It was
rumored the new members were all young and attractive and the retreats were
drug and alcohol fueled orgies. Nothing had changed in the Hollywood Hills.

   While he partied, his missionaries roamed the
wastelands looking for converts to bring back to New Rome or to start new
congregations. But they never had much success amongst the hardened denizens of
the wastelands. The U.S.T.G. banned all religion so they didn’t allow the
missionaries into their territory. They were never harmed, but firmly sent
packing. And of course the Collective was its own religion. So the power base
of the religion was concentrated right around LA.

   For the Pope himself to travel to the east coast
of Florida was extremely odd. Or was it really? Everyone and everything seemed
to be standing in opposition to Derek and his mission, so why not the Pope? It
was just one more obstacle to overcome in a series of obstacles. It was a good
thing that overcoming obstacles was Derek’s forte.

   “I’ll take care of it.” Derek informed them with
finality before cutting the transmission.

   “The Pope?” Rora asked him curiously.

   “Yeah, this oughta be fun.” He replied
sardonically.

   Rora just looked at him with a bemused expression
on her face. It appeared that even she had heard of the eccentric Pope in her
isolated village. They arrived just a mile or so north of the complex’s gates
and saw the huge throngs of people and vehicles blocking their way. Derek
stopped the transporter and got out. Rora hopped out after him and the others
started to follow. Derek stopped them.

   “Stay here with the shuttle. Don’t let anyone
touch it. But try not to shoot anyone.” He ordered.

   As he moved towards what looked like a golden
throne atop a dais in the midst of the throng, the Pope’s followers surrounded
him and Rora. The followers looked like they were worked into a frenzy and
possibly on some sort of drug. They were all dressed in simple white shirts and
pants and wore various shoes, which gave an odd Technicolor look to the feet of
the masses. Shoes were hard to come , while anyone could sew a pair of pants;
so you wore what you could get.

   The masses gave them a wide berth but screamed
names and epithets at them, calling them heretics and demons. They waved sticks
at the two of them, although none seemed otherwise armed. Rora pulled closer to
him, but none of the crazed followers came close enough to actually strike
them. They made their way towards the dais until they stood right before it.

   There was indeed a golden throne on top of the
dais, and a rotund man with long flowing hair sat upon it. He was also wearing
white, but his robe was trimmed with gold and he held a golden scepter. On his
head was a pretty good approximation of the pontiff’s hat. He was surrounded by
armed men in white body armor with red crusader crosses on them. The man, Derek
assumed to be the Pope, pointed the scepter at him and began yelling.

   “I name thee Demon! I smite thee in the name of
the Lord!” The Pope screamed.

  There was a collective pause and everyone waited
in complete silence. Derek looked around and could see that followers and the
Pope both expected something to happen. But nothing happened. After a few long
minutes passed and the silence began to stretch, the Pope gestured at Derek again.

   “Behold the Hand of God! I smite thee Demon!” The
Pope cried.

   Again nothing happened and Derek was starting to
wonder what was going on. The followers started murmuring amongst themselves
and the Pope’s face started getting redder and redder. It looked like he was
about to have an apoplectic fit. As the crowd started to get more anxious, the
guards moved closer to the Pope. Rora nudged Derek as if to ask what was going
on and he shrugged. The mystery was answered shortly by a brief buzz in his ear.

   “I am blocking a signal emanating from the Pope.
It appears to be a Collective frequency and it is constantly changing, so I may
not be able to block it for long.” The Voice explained.

   “What is it doing?” Derek subvocalized.

   “I believe it is connected to Olympus Station,
but it is also relaying another signal from there to a satellite in orbit over
your position.” The Voice answered. “Let me see which satellite it is…uh oh.”

   “What?” Derek asked suddenly worried. The Voice
had never demonstrated any concern before, and he was afraid of what might
worry him.

   “It’s connected to Thor’s Hammer.” The Voice
replied with a hint of panic.

   “What the heck is Thor’s Hammer?” Derek asked
him.

   “The U.S. military launched an offensive
satellite just prior to the Collapse. It was launched in secret and disguised
as a communications satellite so no one noticed it. It fires tungsten rods down
at the earth with pinpoint accuracy. Each rod is capable of demolishing a tank.
Somehow the Pope seems to be controlling it.” The Voice explained. “But there
might be a way to prevent him from doing so.”

  “Well don’t keep it to yourself.” Derek reminded
him.

  “Right. The device should be able to block the
signal if you are close enough.” The Voice informed him.

  “Wouldn’t the shockwave from the strike kill
anyone near it?” Derek inquired.

   “Yes. It has a blast radius of about twenty
feet.” The Voice confirmed.

   “I’m about that close. There’s no way he’s going
to risk dropping that on himself.” Derek insisted.

   “You assume he knows he is controlling a
satellite.” The Voice pointed out. “And that his value as an asset is greater
than its desire to kill you and destroy the device.”

   “Good point, but I cannot get any closer.” Derek
hissed.

   The exchange had gone on long enough and Derek
had become animated enough that the Pope and the others had noticed. They were
watching him intently with looks of pure hatred on their faces.

   “Stop speaking in tongues Demon! You’re Master
cannot protect for long! The Father will soon hear my prayers and grant me the
strength to destroy you!” The Pope yelled wildly.

   Derek realized the Father the Pope was
referencing was not god, but Doors. Somehow the Collective was controlling this
madman and the voices he was hearing were the Collective’s. The man could see
him so he wasn’t connected to the LINC. They were controlling him in some other
way. He needed to get closer so the device would block the signal.

   “I am not a Demon! I am a messenger from God.
That’s why he hasn’t struck me down.” Derek yelled to the Pope. “You are
listening to false voices sent by the Devil to trick you!”

  That froze the Pope for a moment and everyone
turned to look at him for his reaction, even the guards. Derek took that
opportunity to move closer to the foot of the dais. The guards snapped back
around and raised their assault rifles. The crowd pulled back a little in fear.

   “That cannot be true Demon; I already have a
messenger from God. He sent an angel to guide me on this crusade.” The Pope
cried out. “He told me you are planning to take the sky chariot into the heavens
and pierce the heart of God. I have called this holy crusade to stop you!”