Impact by Rob Boffard Read Free Book Online Page B

Earth. His team in the Air Lab. His parents. And every single person who died after being infected with Resin, the virus which sprung from a genetically modified superfood that
he
created. They’re all lined up behind Riley, and all of them are staring at him.
    Carver might hate Okwembu and Mikhail. Prakesh does, too. But he has far more blood on his hands than they do. Not just ten more, or twenty, but hundreds and hundreds of thousands, dead because of him. He thinks back to his parents–he doesn’t even know if they’re alive or not, if they survived Resin. Even if they did, he knows there’s a good chance that the decompression in the station dock will have wiped out everybody in Gardens. Probably everybody on the station. That thought, too, is an almost physical pain.
    The tiny group clustered around the fire is all he has left. He
has
to keep them alive. It’s the only way he can make it right–or start making it right. He can’t do that if he’s hunting for Riley.
    He closes his eyes, and says, “We can’t go.”
    â€œWhat did you say?”
    Prakesh gets to his feet. He’s steadier this time, despite the pounding in his head. “If we split the group up, we die.”
    â€œYeah? Well, that’s fine by me, as long as I don’t have to be near
them
.” Carver jerks his finger back at the fire, and the figures around it, bathed in shadows.
    â€œOK,” says Prakesh. “Go. Charge off into an environment we know nothing about, with no map and no supplies, at night, in the cold.”
    â€œI’ll stick to the shore,” Carver says, but he sounds resigned now. The punch drained the last of the energy he had stored up. “Riley had to have come down close to here. If we—”
    â€œWe don’t know
where
she came down. We don’t even know if her pod launched.”
    â€œDon’t—”
    â€œYou could hunt forever, and never find her.”
    â€œSo you’re just giving up? Is that it?”
    â€œI won’t if you won’t. But if you head off by yourself, you’ll never make it.”
    Prakesh twists the bottom of his shirt in his hands, wringing water out of the fabric, giving him time to articulate his thoughts. “We don’t know what’s out there, and we don’t know what the war did to the ecosystem. Most of the planet is a wasteland, and that has a knock-on effect.”
    â€œI thought this part of the planet was supposed to be OK for humans now.”
    â€œMaybe. But there could still be extreme weather patterns, localised microclimates.” Carver is about to interrupt, but Prakesh talks over him. “We could be caught in a flash flood, a snowstorm. Anything. That’s without talking about any wildlife we run into, or how we actually find food.”
    Carver frowns. “Wildlife? You actually think anything survived long enough to get here?”
    â€œHard to say without data. The global population of certain species might have been decimated, but it’s possible that tiny clusters could survive, assuming they adapt. If they could migrate, hunt out food sources, they might be able to—”
    â€œI get it, P-Man.”
    â€œRight. Sorry.” Prakesh is secretly relieved at hearing Carver use that damn nickname. It means he’s calming down, thinking more like his old self.
    He gestures to the lake. “But if we stay in a group, we can cover a wider area. We can find food, shelter, fuel for a fire. We can keep each other warm. And then I promise: we’ll look for Riley. We’ll find her together.”
    Carver hugs himself, shivering. The thunderous look hasn’t left his face, but he gives Prakesh a tight nod.
    â€œAll right,” he says. “But if Okwembu so much as says one word to me, I’m going to do to her what I did to you.” He grimaces. “Sorry about that, by the way.”
    Prakesh is about to answer when he hears