Inherited revenge, p.1
Inherited Revenge, page 1
Inherited Revenge
By James A. Haddock III
Copyright © 2023 all rights reserved.
Website:
Jameshaddock.us
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Inherited Revenge synopsis
Chuck, a fifteen-year-old hardened war orphan has seen friends killed and now lies dying on a salvage battlefield himself. But the universe has a different plan for Chuck. A mortally wounded man offers to save his life, and Chuck accepts his help. A moment later Chuck regrets his decision when his rescuer forces Chuck’s mouth open and a reptilian octopus is ejected from his rescuer’s mouth and into his.
Because of Chuck’s symbiote, Tom’s desire for revenge, Chuck finds himself drawn into a shadow war with an alien race. Chuck must hide from the aliens because they would rather burn the planet to a cinder than let Tom escape. He must also hide from the government because they want Tom’s knowledge of advanced tech and will do anything to get it.
Chuck has a few advantages: Tom’s DNA has mixed with his, giving him access to genetic memories; Tom’s race is aquatic, which gives Chuck the ability to breathe underwater; and no one knows Tom is a symbiote, so no one is actually looking for Chuck.
Chuck is content to hide in plain sight as a salvager until someone kills his new family while trying to kill him. Now all bets are off as Chuck is on a search-and-destroy mission looking for those responsible. He uses every piece of war salvage he must to find and kill them. Inherited revenge or not, revenge will be had.
Chapter 1
Alexi and his dog were sitting by a small fire under the roof of a bombed-out house when I walked up. It wasn’t much, but it kept the rain off. I’d been digging through ruins all day and had found a few useful things.
“Find anything?” Alexi asked.
I pulled two cans from my shoulder bag. “Mystery meat and a lighter,” I said, smiling. “You?”
He pulled a round of toe bread from his bag. “Bread,” he answered, returning my smile.
“Tonight we feast.” I tossed him the cans, sitting down by the fire. He opened one of the cans and sat it close to the fire to warm it up. The dog sat up, watching the can and licking his chops.
Before we could react, a group rushed in on us. One of the men hit Alexi on the side of his head, and the bat made a wet cracking sound. I knew Alexi was dead before he hit the ground. The dog attacked the batter and received the same treatment Alexi had.
Without thinking, I rolled away from the fire, jumped to my feet, dove out a window, and started running as soon as my feet hit the ground. The gang gave chase as I ran down the alley, across the road, and into the woods.
Whipping limbs left welts on my face, but I barely felt them. I ran blindly with the attackers not far behind me. I felt as if death itself was chasing me.
After a few hundred yards, I emerged into a small clearing where several tanks had ended their lives. I ran around the first tank and hid behind the second. I could barely hear them over my heavy breathing; my lungs felt like they were about to explode.
“Search the tanks. He’s probably hiding in one. Find him!” I recognized the leader’s voice. It was Romoff, a nasty piece of work.
I moved from tank to tank, using them as cover to move further away from the gang. They would have to search every tank to ensure I wasn’t hiding in one of them, which would give me more time to escape. The longer they took, the more likely it was I’d get away.
“You two run to the far side in case he tries to cut straight through,” Romoff shouted.
My heart sank as I leaned against a tank, sucking air into my burning lungs. I saw the two running around the tanks heading to the far side, cutting off my escape. Looking around for other options, I found none. Hoping against hope, I climbed up onto the tank I was leaning on and tried the top hatch. If any hatches were unlocked, it was usually the top hatch.
I twisted the latch and the hatch opened. I didn’t take time to celebrate. I dove straight in, landing in the commander’s seat. I pulled the hatch closed and locked it. Before I took a second breath, I made sure the bow hatches and bottom escape hatch were locked. Now that I was safe behind locked hatches, I dropped exhausted into the bow gunner’s seat.
I took deep breaths, feeling as if I would pass out at any moment. I glanced around but couldn’t see much. The little light there was, came through crew vision ports. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and concentrated on regaining my breath.
I heard someone climb onto the tank, then try the top hatch. Finding it locked, they tried the bow hatches. I watched as he tried to look through my viewport to see inside. I don’t know why I held my breath, not moving. You can’t see through them from the outside.
After a moment, he got off and moved on. I watched through the viewport as Romoff and his gang gathered not twenty yards in front of me. “If I could, I’d kill every one of you,” I said through gritted teeth.
I looked down at the coaxial machine gun in front of me. Every kid played in destroyed tanks, and we all knew how to use weapons. An ammo belt lay beside the gun. I opened the top feed tray, laid the belt into position, and closed the top cover. As quietly as I could, I slowly pulled back the bolt, then eased it forward, charging the gun. I pushed forward on the bolt, ensuring it was seated and the firing chamber was closed.
I looked through the targeting reticle aiming at the gang before me. I took the safety off and pulled the trigger. I never heard the sound of the weapon firing and saw the tracers as I swept the gun left and right into the gang. I kept firing until the gun ran dry.
I sat crying, watching through the viewport for movement. There was none. “That’s for Alexi, and all the other evil you’ve done.” I let go of the gun and leaned back. The smell of gunfire was strong, but there was still plenty of breathable air. That was the last thing I remember before sleep claimed me.
***
I woke with a start, confused by my surroundings. Memories came flooding back to me, and I relaxed a little. My bladder told me it was time to get up. As I fumbled around, my knee bumped into a switch that turned on a small dash light.
“Batteries still have some life,” I observed. I opened the bottom hatch and relieved myself. When I finished, I closed and locked the hatch. I looked at the gages and saw the batteries were showing a full charge. The tank must not have been here very long. I wondered where the crew was. Probably dead, otherwise they wouldn’t have left their tank.
I climbed up into the commander’s cupola and took his seat. I looked out through the viewports, but it was too dark to see anything except some lights through the trees back toward the village.
I turned on the small light over the command screens and studied the console. In one of the cubby holes was a ration bar. I opened it and smelled it. Shrugging I took a bite. It tasted like sawdust with gravy on it. Not bad.
I flipped a switch marked Internal Lights, and all the lights inside came on. I looked around to see if I could find any more food but had no luck. I turned the lights off and leaned back in the commander’s chair. It was more comfortable than the others, so it wasn’t long before I fell asleep again.
Sunlight through the viewports woke me. I sat up stretching, looking out through the viewports. Nothing had changed as far as I could tell. The bodies of the gang lay where they had fallen.
As safe as I felt at the moment, I knew sooner or later I’d have to open the hatch and get out. “Cowboy up, Chuck,” I said to myself and opened the hatch a few inches. I stayed low, looking around and listening. The fresh air felt good, and I breathed deeply.
I didn’t see or hear anything but a few birds in the nearby trees, which I took as a good sign. I pushed the hatch all the way open, still waist-deep inside the cupola. After a few more minutes I climbed out, closing the hatch behind me.
I climbed down the side of the tank; the crew had their packs and bags strapped to the side of the turret. I started to search them but stopped. There at the side of the tank lay whom I thought were the tank’s crew. They looked to have been dead for a few days. It looked like they had been working on the track, as there was a tanker’s bar still stuck in the track. An explosion had killed all of them. I shook my head. Why had they all been outside at one time? It seemed at least one of them should have remained in the tank on watch.
I got down and looked at the track. Whatever they had been working on, they seemed to have fixed it. I pulled the tanker’s bar out of the track and leaned it against the tank. I looked at the soldiers and decided I’d never be unarmed or victimized ever again.
The first thing I took was a shoulder holster and pistol. I checked the pistol and magazine to ensure it was loaded, then put the rig over my shoulders. It was a little big; I’d have to adjust it later. I picked up an assault rifle with a folding stock and checked that it was loaded and had a full magazine. These seemed to be the standard weapons for the crew.
Looking around frequently as I searched each one of the crew, I set everything of use to the side. I felt very exposed, thinking the same thing that happened to these men could happen to me. I decided as soon as I was able, I
I got one of the packs and dumped its contents down the cupola’s hatch. I loaded all the salvaged items from the crew into the pack and dropped it and their weapons through the top hatch. I unstrapped all the packs and bags from the turret and loaded them through the top hatch.
As an afterthought, I walked around the tank looking for damage. When I got to the rear, I was surprised to find an assault ramp. I now noticed that the back of the tank was taller than every other tank I’d ever seen. This one seemed designed to carry an infantry assault squad. I tried the door latch, and not surprisingly, it was locked. I hadn’t noticed an inside hatch joining the two compartments, but I hadn’t been looking.
I climbed in the top hatch, kicking the packs and bags deeper into the tank. Once inside, I closed and locked the top hatch. I sat in the commander’s chair letting the anxiety drain from me now that I was safely inside my fortress.
I looked at the back wall and saw the hatch to the rear infantry compartment. I opened a canteen that I’d salvaged and smelled it. It seemed to be water, so I took a sip. Satisfied, I drank deeply.
As I looked over my salvage, I considered the dead around the tank. I realized that even groups of people could be killed if they weren’t careful. But I felt that a group had a better chance of long-term survival, as long as some always stayed on watch.
I found a ration pack and opened it. While I ate, I adjusted my shoulder holster to fit me better. When I finished eating, I looked through the peephole into the rear compartment. I saw boxes, ammo, and other supplies. I unlocked and slid the hatch open and climbed into the compartment to see exactly what was stored there.
This was a gold mine. There were ammo boxes for the pistols, assault rifles, and the tank’s machine guns. Boxes of ration packs, some cold-weather and wet-weather gear, boots, a box of hand grenades, and personnel mines—claymores. In a small cabinet were operator and maintenance manuals for the tank. To my surprise, I found a water closet with a compost toilet and a small showerhead. I’d never seen one of these in a tank before. Of course, I’d never seen a tank that had a rear infantry compartment before either.
I didn’t find any extra rounds for the tank’s main gun. I knew there was an area that held rounds on the back of the turret that was part of the autoloader. If this was going to be my new home, and I felt like it was, I’d need to check to see how many rounds there were. But first I needed to make room in the forward compartment.
I opened each pack and bag and poured their contents out on the floor. I separated the things I could use and put those back in the pack and bags. Everything else went into a trash pile. There wasn’t a lot of trash. When I finished, I moved the packs and bags to the rear compartment. That done, I checked the main gun’s auto-loading magazine. There were only three rounds there. I’d check the dead tanks and see if they had any I could use. It was almost dark now, so that would have to wait until tomorrow.
I pulled out another ration pack; I hadn’t eaten this well in a long time. While I ate, I read the command tank’s operator’s manual. According to the manual, the rear compartment was not primarily for infantry but was a command-and-control area where a company commander controlled and fought his company from. There was an additional command chair, screens, and comms back there.
I frowned. “I didn’t see a command chair back there. It must be under all those boxes and clothes. The screens must be behind those cabinet doors.” I shrugged and went back to reading. I checked the switches and gauges the manual was explaining. My biggest surprise was that this tank didn’t have a liquid fuel engine. I had electric motor drives powered by a nuke pellet reactor. It wouldn’t need refueling for years.
I read that the tank had a proximity warning system that warned when anyone approached. I scrolled through the system’s settings and turned on the proximity alert. The system beeped twice signaling the system was active. There were also cameras that showed different views of the area around the tank. There was also an autonomous self-defense mode. With that on, the guns would target the enemy and fire—the enemy being anyone who didn’t respond with the correct IFF.
Under the security section, I also found where I could lock all the hatches from the command console. There was also a way to lock the hatches to secure the tank when you left. There were other ways to gain entry. One was a keypad; another was a remote that looked like a wristwatch. I had to look through a few bags before I found the command wrist remote. Using the manual, I reset the command codes and my finger and thumbprint access keys. I put the command remote on, I’d be wearing it all the time now.
I was tired of reading and didn’t want to overlook anything important, so I stopped for the night. I leaned the command chair into its flat position, turned on the vent system for fresh air, and went to sleep. Sometime during the night, it started raining and turned cold enough to wake me up. I turned up the vent temperature, went to the toilet, then went back to sleep safe, warm, and dry. I was liking my fortress more and more.
It was still raining when I woke up the next morning, a slow soaking rain. I stayed inside reading the manual, learning as much as possible about my new home. I learned that the internal water tanks held fifty gallons of filtered water. In the water closet was a fold-down sink, and on the opposite wall, under a seat, was a small hot plate for cooking. There was no wastewater holding tank, as it just drained out on the ground. I now ate hot food and drank hot coffee made from instant packets in the ration packs.
I moved the clothes and supplies around and found the command chair. It was on rails and would lock against the wall out of the way when not needed. On the opposite wall, behind the cabinet doors, I found the view screens. They were much larger than the ones up front. I turned them on, and they showed the same views as the ones at the other station. I’d need to read more of the manual to learn what they could do.
When it stopped raining, I searched the other tanks for main gun rounds and anything else of value. I counted myself lucky to find six rounds for the main gun and a few boxes of belt ammo for the machine guns.
It was a long day of hard work moving everything to my tank, but it had to be done. I needed to consider whom I trusted enough to let into my home as my crew. I could only think of two people that I trusted enough to even consider. The twins, Parker, and his sister Tam. They were about the same age as me, and from time to time had shared information about salvage. Tomorrow I’d go find and talk to them.
***
I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, so the only new items I was taking were my weapons. I put two ration packs in my old shoulder bag for Parker and Tam.
I checked the proximity alert screen, to ensure there was no one around, and opened the top hatch. I looked around, satisfying myself I was alone, climbed out, and locked the hatches behind me. I took a roundabout route to where I thought Parker and Tam might be.
I entered the town from opposite the tank’s location. I got a few glances from people as I passed, but no more than normal. The last time I saw the twins they were squatting in an abandoned short school bus. The bus’s engine didn’t run, probably out of gas. But the doors locked, and it kept the rain off them.
As I approached the bus, I knew something was wrong. The glass in the doors was busted out and the doors were open. I took my rifle off safe and approached slowly. Easing the front door open, I saw a badly beaten Parker slumped in the back corner holding a butcher knife ready to defend himself. When he saw me through the eye that wasn’t swollen shut, he lowered the knife.
I glanced around, “Tam?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I held them off long enough for her to get away,” he said through split lips.
I took my canteen from my bag and handed it to him. He took it and drank deeply. I took out a ration pack, opened it, and gave him the main meal packet. As he ate, I kept watch. “Should I go look for Tam?” I asked.
He shook his head. “She’ll come back when it’s safe.”
As if on cue, Tam stepped through the front door. Looking at my rifle, “I saw you enter, figured it was safe,” she said, stepping past me to her brother. There were tears in her eyes, but that was as close as she came to crying.
