The Last Reset

Other Looters forgot about old fast food restaurants, but Hilda always checked them. They’d had the best plumbing old money could buy. Hilda hated the competitiveness of larger hauls. Her racing days were long past. Smaller opportunities in the ground-level businesses were a more relaxed drag, a consistent payload each Reset. The only downside were longer days between the skyscrapers.

Hilda heard the whirr of a drone. Sludge sucked at her protective suit as she made her way back to the sled with more copper pipes. The suit hindered mobility sometimes, particularly her fingers, but better that than the rot of acidic mud on flesh. The greenish muck coating the streets of the old city wasn’t deep here, only midway up her calf. Tide lines showed on her hips from deeper in the city, where the ruined skyscrapers threatened to shift and collapse at any moment. The drone be-beeped¬ as greeting. Chuff, her twelve-foot domesti-gator, let out a low growl. He loved chasing drones, but kept still while his roll-harness was attached to the sled.

“Greetings Looter,” the tinny recording echoed off concrete. “Please be advised that there is one hour, four minutes and twenty-six seconds until detonation. From this location it is approximately fifty-three minutes by foot to the safe zone. If you wish to partake in the Sacrifice Event please register with…” Hilda waved the drone away as it displayed a map. Ignoring the familiar message, she found a spot on the sled to strap the pipes down tightly.

Her visor tinted darker in the sun. Inside the airtight suit, cooling vents discouraged sweat while in the swamp heat. Not all of the obsolete cities slated for razing were as pretty as here. The concrete and stone buildings around her had been built with care a couple centuries back, before the Greatest War brought bombs and death chemicals. Many cities were destroyed and contaminated, so the Global Leaders deployed habitation Resets. Vines climbed sides of buildings. Sickly yellow flowers prickled along them. Few creatures could cope with the high acidity of the swamp; only some reptiles, and birds who flew above the danger. Hilda rolled her shoulders and stretched, debating to go for one last load. As she moved her head, something glinted on a haggard tree growing in the fracture of a wall.

She moved toward it, careful to test each step. Beneath the toxic muck, service ports had once been covered with metal sheets. Many had rotted away, leaving pits of inconsistent depths. Rescue was near impossible from the flooded sewer systems. The tree swayed in the breeze, making the shiny thing dance. Once close enough, she could see it was a small golden locket in a heart shape, etched with LV.

Gold was a very rare find, such a pretty item would sell well. She wrapped the thin chain around her wrist.

Hilda needed a strong drink. Treasure chasers were likely already drunk at the bar in the camp in the safe zone. She wished she was already with them. As long as she was on the other side of the perimeter when the force-field activated, though, all would be well. Once raised, it would prevent everything crossing into the exclusion zone for at least ten years. This would create a self-contained biome as the drones and genetically modified plants cleared all spores, radiation, and acid from the corrupted area. Chuff rumbled at her through his muzzle. He’d accompanied her for twenty years and knew her routines. Hilda scratched along his jaw, as his eyes closed in pleasure.

“Hie, Chuff,” she called as she swung herself into the seat, settling her oxygen tank comfortably. “There’s salmon waiting for you back home.” She snapped the reins. Chuff’s claws scrabbled for a moment in the soft earth. The runners released from the mud with an angry squelch as Chuff gained traction and shifted forward. Then movement was easy as he slithered along the slick ground.

The edge of the city wasn’t too far away. They avoided the makeshift walkways which made it easier for the Rotten to get to the Sacrifice Event. The wooden decks were almost empty now, only a few stragglers hurried past. Warfare had ended decades ago, but the poison rained down by humans had caused generations of disease and infection. Many were terminal. Each Reset, many Rotten chose the quick death of detonation rather than the slow decay they’d otherwise suffer. Even though she knew it happened, Hilda was still alarmed when she saw the people walking by, barely clothed due to the heat. Most ignored her, but sometimes she’d hear people call to Chuff. Especially the smaller children, bouncing on the edge of the walkway and excitedly pointing with ruined limbs. On those occasions, Hilda would guide Chuff closer so they could take some final pleasure by loving on a gentle animal.

Today they made good headway past the walkways, sliding along at a brisk pace. Near the last check point a small crowd of Rotten gathered. Hilda wondered if they were trying to leave again. Sometimes people changed their minds, but not often. As Hilda was about to slide past, she heard some calling out.

“Ho there, Looter!” they shouted. Chuff turned and slowed on Hilda’s instruction. “Looter, can you help this man?” They stepped aside to reveal a Looter sat facing away. He wore a newish protective suit and his head hung between his legs.

“What’s happened?” Hilda stayed in her seat as Chuff shook his harness, jingling the reins.

“There was an accident. He’s lost his mount and injured himself. He can’t get out of the city before detonation. Could you take him to the safe zone?” The Rotten man gestured down an alleyway between two crumbling buildings. In the distance Hilda saw the crumpled form of a large bird splayed out unnaturally on the ground. The flight of adapted vultures helped Looters go further into the city, reaching places that ground Looters couldn’t. Weight limits meant only small hauls, though. It was easy to overburden, making flight dangerous or impossible. This Looter could have done just that.

“Sure, I can take him. Can he walk?”

“Yeah.” The Looter was gruff as he struggled to his feet. Hilda suppressed her gasp as he turned. Under his visor blood trickled down his face. A fracture on the surface of the reinforced glass webbed from his temple. He would be very lucky if his suit was still airtight.

The man settled himself awkwardly beside Hilda. She flicked the reins to get Chuff to move again.

“Are you going to be okay if we hurry? The safe zone is a while off and if we’re going to make it I can’t take it easy.” Hilda said, concerned for her new passenger.

“Do what you need to.” He braced himself as Hilda urged on Chuff. “Kettle, my vulture, hit the ground hard. I was thrown.”

“Overburdened?” Hilda couldn’t hide the distaste. She had no patience for Looters who mistreated their mounts.

“Attacked by wild birds. He flew too close to their nest. Got tangled in powerlines and couldn’t get out. I’ve had him his whole life.” His voice broke. Hilda didn’t respond. Close calls were part of Looting.

They cleared the skyscrapers, and crumbling suburbia sped by. Hilda shielded her eyes against the lowering sun. She felt the relief deep in her bones thinking of the long shower she’d soon have. Her skin prickled with the stickiness of recycled air.

The man yanked at her arm.

“The fuck are you doing?” she hissed. He stared at her hand.

“Where did you get this?” he demanded, an edge to his voice. He shook the locket wrapped around her wrist.

“I found it on a tree. What’s it to you?” Hilda pulled at her arm. Gold was rare, but this small thing surely wasn’t worth killing for. She hoped.

“On a tree? Are you sure?” The man leaned close, his tone disbelieving.

“Yes, it was hanging there. Let me go.” She gripped the rail, ready to push him off if he got aggressive. Instead he released her and turned awkwardly to stare at the city skyline diminishing behind them.

“LV. Lauren Voss. She’s my wife. That’s her necklace.”

“Are you sure? Could she've dropped it?” Hilda knew the likelihood.

“No. I gave it to her. She’s also a Looter. She wore it every day under her suit.” He didn’t say the rest. No Looter would ever remove their suit unless dying or already dead. “It seems I lost more than my mount today.”

“We can check for news back at the camp.” Hilda directed Chuff to avoid a large root across the road. They were approaching the edge of the toxic swamps which flooded the urban sprawl. Only a little further and they’d be past the exclusion zone. The explosives used for the Reset were meticulously calculated to know the exact radius of the blast. Everything inside that perimeter would be incinerated and mulched to make the way for new growth.

“No I don’t need to check. I lost contact with her two hours ago.” The man was quiet for a beat. Then he reached up and pulled the release of his helmet. The catch sprung open.

“What are you doing? You’ll get the rot!” Hilda knocked his helmet with her gloved hand.

“The seal was already broken. If I’m infected it’s happened.” Hilda knew he was right; she hadn’t heard the hiss of the air releasing.

“Without a helmet, you won’t go to decontamination. You’ll go into quarantine.” She warned.

“No need. Just let me off here.” He leaned over the side, watching the ground. Ahead, the thick, spray-painted red boundary showed the safe zone.

“We can figure this out. Just come back to camp.” Hilda found herself begging.

“I don’t want to go back to my tent and know my wife isn’t. I don’t want to pack up Kettle’s things and know that the chick I raised from egg won’t come to me for scratches anymore. I don’t want to die slowly, watching my skin slough from my bones, alone and stinking in my own filth.” The bitterness in his voice burned at Hilda’s mind. These were all fears she shared. “Let me off here.”

She didn’t argue further. She yanked at the reins, and Chuff dug in. The man jumped down while the sled still moved. In the distance a siren blared, wailing out in rising and falling tones. Hilda didn’t wait. He’d made his decision.

The buzzing force-field activated with millimeters to spare behind the sled. It would stop any blowout of radiation, spores or heat from the blast. The detonation impact bumped them into the air for a second. Hilda pulled up, twisting to watch the man.

In the distance he faced the city, his helmet by his feet. Hilda protected her eyes with her visor. Heat made his outline wobble, but she saw his limbs slowly disintegrate. Dust obscured his final fall as his muscles lost ability to hold him upright. Hilda heard the thunderous collapse of a thousand buildings in the distance.

Hilda stayed until the dust settled. Chuff grunted, reminding her of his promised salmon. There wasn’t even a mound of earth where the man had stood. She turned Chuff towards camp. Once the exclusion zone had been lifted, she decided, she would plant a tree for the man who had lost everything today.

He had been just like her, she supposed. He had been successful judging by his suit. Hilda had a pretty good haul today, she’d be very comfortable for a while. In a few months would be the next Reset, wherever that was. She had lost count how many she’d seen, where she’d been, how many close calls.

Fatigue ached in her bones. Recently she’d noticed Chuff slowing down. The gold locket glinted on her wrist. Maybe it was time to take it easy. Before she lost everything.