Future Reshaped: A Post-Apocalyptic Harem (Future Reborn Book 3) Read online

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  Future Reshaped Copyright © 2019 by Daniel Pierce

  Book design and layout copyright © 2019 by Daniel Pierce

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

  Daniel Pierce

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  Future Reshaped

  Book 3 in the Future Reborn Series

  Daniel Pierce

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

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  About the Author

  1

  The water poured past me in silence, a bloom of dirt turning the channel from clear to brown. Something was in the sluice ahead, and it wasn’t human.

  I pointed to the water, earning a grim nod from Mira, who unshouldered her rifle without a sound. I did the same with my shotgun, then began to move forward in a low crouch. Overhead, the sun was brilliant, though the air still held the chill of a winter night. It might have been February in the old world, but things like that didn’t matter as much now. We had other concerns, like why one of our scouts had gone missing. We were at the farthest edge of a new expansion on the eastern side of The Free Oasis; a place of few trees and long channels that carried the new water source away in radial canals. The water would be the lifeblood of our second section; a place that could hold another 2000 people or more once it was fully forested and settled.

  The rules were simple. We planted as we went, and we built in between the trees. I was determined to reclaim the desert from whatever calamity created it when the virus split humanity into a broken tumble of beings, all struggling to survive among the monsters. Some humans had become monsters, like the ogres and their kin. We didn’t even know just how far humans had diverged, and without communication over long distances, the only way to know was to see for ourselves.

  There was little cover ahead, which meant the creature—be it good or bad—was in the channel. It still didn’t explain the missing scout, or even why there was no sign of life around us. Even in the raw expanse of The Empty, that was off.

  Mira pointed to the channel ahead of us, and I froze. Bobbing in the water was the remains of boot, the sole torn away, the top punctured in a row of marks that could have only been made by large, sharp teeth. “It’s there.”

  “Whe--oh. Shit.” I shook my head in disgust. “Lizards.” One word, but many meanings, and now end to the variation. This one was a mottled brown, its face smeared with gore as it worried at what looked suspiciously like a human ribcage.

  “Too many lizards,” Mira agreed. She aimed her rifle, but I shook my head, holstering the shotgun as I slid my blades free. The lizard was three meters of killer, but that was no reason to waste ammunition. Plus, under the mud and gore, the hide looked interesting; a pebbled affair with swirls of color that would yield a lot of leather, given a little work.

  I made my decision.

  Stalking forward, I got to within arm’s length of the beast as it cracked into a femur, the gunshot sound of breaking bone almost enough to make me twitch. The neck. It had to be the neck. I jumped, both blades coming inward as hard as my muscles could drive them, the steel sinking into the creature’s musclebound neck and punching out through the other side to graze my forearms.

  I hadn’t quite thought that part through.

  The creature shuddered and died, the human femur still in its wide, lethal jaws.

  “Stabbed yourself, Canan?” Mira asked, walking forward with a lazy smile. She liked taunting me with stories from my own time, even if she butchered the names.

  “It’s Conan, and no. I grazed myself, which is a huge difference. Heroes suffer grazing wounds, only idiots stab themselves,” I told her while grimacing at the stinging cuts on both arms.

  “Right,” she said with a smirk. She put her boot on the creature’s head. It looked tiny against the long, cavernous skull. “Who’s in his mouth? Or her mouth? I can never tell with lizards.”

  “Might be a he. We’ll know after we rinse the hide. As to the poor bastard he’s eating, I have no idea if it isn’t the scout. We’re not missing anyone else that I can think of, are we?” I asked.

  “No. Head count was solid this morning. Two hundred sixteen and growing, all with their heads.” Mira looked at the remains, then shrugged. “That was a man. Scrawny, if his leg is any sign.”

  “So not one of ours. A wanderer?” I asked, staring into The Empty. There was no sign of a cart, or wagon. No fires and no campsite. Whoever the man had been, he was dead and most likely forgotten, just another victim of a world that truly had no fucks to give. There were shreds of clothing, but nothing that could be considered a uniform or closely paired with a certain occupation, like a trader or smith. I shrugged, trying and failing to hide an attitude of callousness. Sometimes, the best thing to do for the dead was move on. They would never know.

  I thumped a boot into the lizard’s back. “I’ll start at the belly. Help me flip him over?”

  We rolled the creature over, exposing a cream-colored stomach with smaller scales. There were scars on the stomach; a record of a life filled with fighting. I slipped a blade home and began to cut, humming to myself as the lizard went from predator to resource with the slice of steel.

  We were all just a cut away from being in the same place out here in The Empty, which meant the only thing that mattered was to make sure you were the one holding the blade.

  2

  “Make that two hundred and”—Silk looked over my shoulder, her full lips moving silently—“twenty-one. A family came in from the north while you were out.”

  “Any critical skills?” I asked, tossing the rolled lizard hide to the ground. It hit with a wet thump, and I nodded at two kids who were approaching. “Take that to the tannery, if you would. I’ll be along with instructions.” The boys pelted away, hide swinging between them as they laughed at the reeking mass. I’d see to it that they got one of the small pies we were baking at the community oven.

  “The grandmother, Beba, is a capable doctor. One of the grandkids nearly lost an ear to a raptor. Her stitches were damn fine work,” Silk said approvingly. “The dad is
built like a bull, kids are good, and the wife has experience with papermaking.”

  “Papermaking? I didn’t even know people did that,” I said.

  “If there are materials. I’m more interested in finding out if she can make fabric. Paper and torn linen are close cousins. Might be that she can open a store of her own.”

  “See that she gets a stall in the market, and let them pick their job. The dad’s big, you say?” I asked.

  “Huge. A hand taller than you and half again your weight. Carries a—well, I guess it’s a club with a spike on the end, on his back. He’s a friendly sort, too. They brought two wagons and some Hightec. They made their way along the remains of that highway that the storm exposed,” Silk said, waving a fine-boned hand at her neck while she held her black curls up. Her green eyes were narrowed in thought, and she was radiant, as usual.

  I was washing myself in the sink. We had water run to more homes each day, especially since two of our newcomers were natural born plumbers. They’d taken to calling themselves the Waterboys, and with enough salvage and creativity, we were going to have a decent water infrastructure. “What’s the big guy’s name?”

  “Breslin. His wife is”—Silk looked at her notebook—“Jossi. He had some tools with him when they were choosing a building site. Said something about sandstone and—well, I wasn’t listening. I was admiring Beba’s library. She has books and things.”

  “Sandstone? Huh. Only one way to find out what he does. Point me to them.”

  Silk took my hand and we began walking. The Oasis was growing at a rate limited only by how fast trees could be planted. As it turned out, water, sun, and importing fertilizer made for a long growing season in The Empty. The central canopy was pushing outward with each month, and houses were built on regular lines, following the radial water channels as they ran toward the desert.

  “Three years, in case you’re wondering,” she said.

  “Then what?” I asked her, looking down. Her role in The Oasis added to her beauty, if anything. Her black curls were pulled away from a face dominated by luminous green eyes. When she smiled, it was a different thing than the night we first met. Her smile was joyous rather than calculating. It looked good on her.

  She pointed to an invisible place beyond us. “The trees will be stable in four different hubs. We’ll have water, housing, and services for each zone. You can let them send representatives to the council.”

  “What council?”

  “The one you’re going to form. I know how you think. You’re not a warlord, Jack, despite your own fears. I spoke to Andi. She told me of your Caesar and Stalin and President Ruston. You’re nothing like them, Jack. You don’t want what they had, and you won’t allow anyone else to take it. It’s only logical to think that the next step is government by the people, as long as they don’t open us up to risk.” She stopped, taking both of my hands. “We can’t descend into—into what there was before. At The Outpost. I won’t go back to that.”

  “I would never let it happen. Nor would you, or Mira, and certainly not Andi. She’s fresh off the exact thing that killed eight billion people,” I said.

  “As long as we understand our goals are one and the same, I’m yours.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss me.

  I met her halfway. “They are.”

  “Good. Now let’s go see this big bastard and find out what he can do with that club.”

  3

  “I’m Breslin, and my family is . . . scattered for the moment, it seems.” He shook my hand with care. I have big hands. He had paws, not hands, with fingers thickened by callouses.

  “You’ve got the hands of someone who knows their way around work. Got a specialty?” I asked him, smiling. He was big, but there was no air of violence around him. He had the look of a father who happened to be built like a tank. He had brown eyes and black hair, his skin darkened to the color of tea by sunshine, and a lot of it. He made his living outside, if I was guessing.

  “Stonework. I was in the guild at Kassos, but—” He paused and spat on the ground, the first hint of aggression I’d seen from him in our brief meeting. “Thieves and liars were the best of what the guild had to offer. When we could, we left. For here.”

  “Here?” I asked him, my brow going up in surprise.

  “The Oasis. You’re Jack, right? We know about you. Know about how you gave Wetterick a lesson, and we know of your place. It sounded a far cry better than that stinking sewer,” he said.

  “Kassos is that bad?” Silk asked.

  “And more. Are you the—is this your place too?” Breslin asked Silk, his face uncertain.

  “Silk, formerly Lady Silk of The Outpost, and yes, this is also my place. I’m with Jack, and we’re glad you’ve come. Point me to your family so I can help them settle?”

  If Breslin knew what Silk had been, he made no show if it. “They were going to the center, to find out about supplies.”

  “Then I know where they are. Welcome, Breslin.” Silk moved away with the grace of a breeze, and Breslin stood watching her for a moment, then closed his jaw. “I—sorry. Meant no offense. She’s a rare one.”

  “None taken, and she is. The four of us—”

  “Four of you? You mean there are more women in your, ah—home?” Breslin asked.

  “Yes. You’ll meet them soon enough.” We stood in awkward silence while he processed that information, then he smiled.

  “You seemed excited to find out I do stone work. What does the Free Oasis need of me?” he asked.

  I examined the growing sprawl of our home. “In a word, everything.”

  Breslin exhaled, then jerked a huge thumb back toward an old but well-kept wagon. “I have tools. What do you need first?”

  “Your home,” I replied.

  “Home?” he asked, brow lowered in confusion.

  “Build your home first. With our help, of course, and then we can discuss a list. Our greatest needs are foundations for houses and means to keep water in small channels, and then come the roads. We have ample stone but no real experience doing it, unless you count our records Andi and Silk are poring over. We’re not just going to build a camp here, Breslin. Do you understand what I mean by that?”

  “You want . . . a city?” he asked.

  “For starters. We’re going to give people a safe place, away from that shithole Kassos and every other amateur dictator who’s carved this land up. We have Hightec, and a lot of it. I’d be lying if I said your arms weren’t going to prove useful, but your mind is just as valuable to me. To us,” I said.

  “If you’re building all that, then I have a third quality you’ll want to use, and the good news is it will cost you nothing.”

  “Which is?” I asked.

  “I will fight. You know others will come, and not all of them intend on being a part of something. They’ll want what you have. I heard nothing of your Hightec, but someone has, and they’ll come for it. For you, and Silk, and all of this,” he said, his tone colored with regret.

  “I know. We expect it, and sooner rather than later.” I clapped him on an enormous shoulder and pointed to the horizon. “We have a network building, and with it, I’m going to reestablish a place where children can grow up. Where people will get old, instead of dead at thirty. Or sooner. Trust me, whoever chooses to invade us makes a fatal mistake. I’ll see to that.”

  He nodded, then turned his grin to me. “In that case, we have a lot of work to do. Show me this water you need shaped. I have a few ideas.”

  “See the channels that run from our main springs?” I asked.

  “Radial, small, protected. All good things to carry the water farther. I assume you want to expand the system?” Breslin turned in place, his eyes taking in every detail.

  “We have three more springs located. What would you do to replicate this system, or even improve on it?”

  He pulled at his chin, then gestured that I should lead. “Show me one of the sites? I’d rather know what I’m working with before making
promises.”

  “I like that. This way,” I said, striding off to the closest water source we’d found. It was to the east, where the succulents gave away a hidden cache of water. It was also close to Derin and Scoot’s forge, which they brought with them from The Outpost. Derin and his daughter were invaluable for his skill and her role as his assistant. Their craft—metalworking--- would need a considerable portion of the water in order to assure their productivity.

  In minutes, we were standing in the bright sun, staring down a clear pool surrounded by green, living things on three sides.

  “Does it overflow? Ah, okay. I see.” Breslin knelt by the small trickle that led away. The stream was knee deep, but the flow was good and, more concerning, underused. He rubbed his head, thinking, then stood with an air of decision. “Tell me more about your plan for this part of the settlement. Will you use the same model? Channels, trees, and homes?”

  “Right. Same thing, but Derin and Scoot—that’s their place over there—will be here, along with space for a few more craft people. Leather, fabric. Maybe some printing. It won’t be purely industrial, but more of a mixed area,” I said.

  “Then the first thing I would do is stone the walls, build up a reservoir, and decide where the homes will be. I like this setting, but the water will only flow so far if trees are using it. I don’t know anything about trees, so we’ll need someone to take a guess,” he said.