Donning his death-like mask, Ash walked the streets under a blazing sun.
There were many other Riot Reapers doing the exact same, so he merely blended in with the crowd. However, his eyes were those of a scavenger, squarely focused on finding his prey.
Many of the Reapers carried knives or machetes by their side, however it was all a façade. None of the masked soldiers looked like they would handle their weapons expertly. Ash could unarm them even before they had the chance to make the first strike.
However, without his gun, Ash still felt defenceless. He made a mental note to obtain a more common weapon – such as a knife.
He spent the remainder of his morning and much of the afternoon exploring the town, venturing through every nook and cranny, finding nothing. If Tullamore contained a secret, it was very well hidden.
At a quarter to four, Ash wandered back over to the pub. He stepped through the front doors, feeling as though he had stepped into a time machine. The pub’s décor hadn’t been touched in well over fifty years, but the rustic feel was intentional.
There was a fair congregation of Riot Reapers occupying the space by a lone pool table. A couple of the Reapers were busy sinking balls, but most of them were holding beers and talking amongst themselves.
Many of the Reapers – all seemingly men – had also lifted up their masks so that their mouths were exposed, purely so they could drink their beverage.
Ash needed to fit in. He approached the main bar, pointed to one of the beers on tap and paid for his drink. Ash then stepped towards the pool tables and attempted to mix in with the crowd.
So many of the Reapers were already in deep discussions. Without a voice, Ash could do no more than listen, but it wasn’t long before one tried to engage with him.
“Hey, mate,” said a Reaper, slapping Ash on the back. “How’s it going?”
He turned around just as the stranger stuck out his hand.
“I’m Taz, by the way,” he said. “Glad you could make it.”
Ash recognised the voice. Even the name rang a bell. Just as Ash returned the handshake, he soon realised the man standing before him was the same Riot Reaper that had broadcast himself standing over Clarke’s body during the Canberra raid yesterday afternoon.
A burst of adrenaline hit him like a punch to the gut.
“So which part of the country have you come from?”
Fumbling a hand into his pocket, Ash pulled out his Skye-Scroll tablet and gave a quick reply,
“Queensland.”
Taz stared at the device, and then looked back at Ash. Behind the skeleton mask, something had changed behind his eyes.
“What’s your name?” asked Taz.
Ash knew John Doe would not be an acceptable answer, nor would his true identity. Ash gave the only other name he could use – especially considering he was still carrying around bankcards containing the name.
“Marshall,” said the device. “Marshall Lennox.”
“That name is not on my Scythe list,” said Taz, his voice building with scepticism.
Ash thought about suggesting there had been some kind of mistake, but to forge another lie would be risky. Instead, he took the middle ground and gave a half-truth.
“I am a Reaper passing through the town, and when I heard about the Scythe I wanted to be a part of it.”
“So, you weren’t formally invited here?”
“No, not until this afternoon.”
“Take off your mask,” said Taz, his voice firming up in an instant. “Right now.”
The sudden change in tone made several other Reapers turn their heads, abruptly ending their conversations. As more eyes shifted towards Ash, the harder his heart began to thump. Behind the mask, he could hide his fear, but now he was being forced to rip off the layer of security.
Ash placed down his untouched beer on the edge of the pool table and pulled the mask away from his face. Immediately, Taz lunged his arm out and grabbed Ash behind the neck. He ran his sweaty fingers over his skin, searching for an indication of his nationality.
Although Ash still had a healing scab over the location of his deployment chip, the rest of his body was littered with similar lacerations.
Thankfully, Taz’s eyes eased up a bit.
“Good to know you’re not a mole,” said Taz, forcing laughter. “But what’s the story with your voice? Why aren’t you talking?”
Ash pointed to his throat.
“You’re mute?”
For the sake of a quick answer, Ash nodded his head.
“Look, I can’t let you into the Scythe with a disability like that,” said Taz, but was quick to pave over his own statement. “Oh, that sounded appalling – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. But, you know, this is a serious operation and communication is essential so...”
Taz’s voice trailed off, recognising he was just digging a deeper hole. However, he recovered quickly, clicked his fingers and asked,
“Do you know sign language?”
Ash shook his head.
“Ah. We’ll have to get you a pen and notepad then,” said Taz, chuckling behind his mask. “It’s all good, mate. I can’t sign you up with the Scythe Syndicate, but you’re welcome to have a few beers with us.”
Taz then turned to the other masked men.
“Is that alright fellas? Can we let this bloke join us for a drink?”
The other Reapers raised their glasses in a toast.
“And fellas? Remember confidentiality,” continued Taz. “So, don’t say anything too incriminating.”
There was a low chuckle from the crowd. Taz put a hard hand on Ash’s shoulder.
“Hope there’s no hard feelings, mate. Voice or no voice, you’re still our brother,” he said, raising his glass. “So, here’s to you, Marshall.”
Ash lifted up his own glass and clinked it against Taz’s beer. With a final pat on the back, Taz then weaved through the crowd of masked men and mingled. Ash kept his focus on him. He was a key person of interest.
Just then, Taz took off his own mask. Ash had imagined what he thought Taz might look like under the disguise, but Ash’s predictions had been wide of the mark.
Taz had a thick Australian accent, but he also had jet-black hair, dark eyes and features that suggested he had an Asian ancestral background.
Once again, he had made another false assumption.
Many of the other Reapers were now totally unmasked too, and although they all seemed to be men; there was a wide range of ages and ethnicities.
Ash tucked his tablet away and picked up his beer. He took a sip of the amber liquid, revelling in the taste, and then knocked half of it back in one go. He then purposely put his own mask back over his face, sensing comfort in the cloaking aid. Ash didn’t want anybody looking at him for too long.
Suddenly, there were three loud beeps heard within the group of Riot Reapers. Ash watched as Taz pulled out a mobile device from his pocket, stared at the screen and then swore under his breath. He then picked out a particular unmasked Reaper and started whispering something to him. A conversation followed. Ash tried to read lips, but it easily could’ve been interpreted to be anything.
However, their body language gave away a clue – something had gone wrong.
Ash tried to get closer, hoping to eavesdrop but Taz removed himself from the gathering and ventured to a room at the back of the pub. He was gone for several minutes. Just as Ash thought about investigating, Taz returned to make an announcement. He called out, asking for everyone’s attention.
Even the bloke working behind the bar stopped to listen.
“I have just received word that Baibots have arrived at Dubbo,” said Taz, his voice cutting through the eerie silence. “They’ve already flattened the city, just in the space of a couple of hours.”
There was a mixed reaction from the crowd – some swore, some groaned and many more remained completely silent.
“How many Baibots are we talking here?” asked a Reaper.
“Hard to say,” replied Taz. “They’ve been multiplying since they’ve arrived and now we’re estimating there are over a thousand of them scattered across the country, all lethal killing machines.”
“What does that mean for us?” asked another Reaper.
“We’ll need to follow the current protocol – we must shut down our power and turn off our water. We’ll wait it out for twenty-four hours, monitor the Baibots movement and then reassess the situation tomorrow.”
Ash’s mind flashed back to the house tucked away from Airlie Beach. The house he’d made his hideaway had been found with all of its power and water switched off, and at last he understood why.
Apparently, the use of power and water supplies lured Baibots to certain areas.
“What about us, Taz?” asked another Reaper, breaking Ash’s thoughts. “How can we do our job when there’s a nearby threat?”
“It’s too risky to relocate at this hour, but I’m certain the Scythe can uphold their duties provided we all work together.”
A few Reapers pumped their fists in the air, cheering in agreement.
“We’ll be urging locals to shut down for the night around seven o’clock,” continued Taz. “We will also have to cut this gathering short and begin handing out torches, bottled water and hysteria pills to any locals in this town. So please prepare to return to work within the next quarter of an hour. We will have to remain vigilant for the next twenty-four hours, or at least until the threat passes.”
Some men began sculling their beers, as if preparing to make their departure.
“And in light of this situation, tomorrow I’m heading back to the front line. However, your job within the Scythe is just as important – I assure you. Thank you for your dedication,” said Taz, and he lifted his beer high into the air. “Cheers to you all.”
The moment the Reapers had finished their drinks; they pulled their masks back over their faces. Taz did the same.
Although many of the details seemed ambiguous, Ash was beginning to put the pieces together. After gathering fragments from various discussions, Ash assumed the Scythe were protecting something.
With his mobile phone in his pocket, Ash thought about discreetly sending a message to the British Army. He could tip them off about the Scythe Syndicate and their operation, but Ash quickly dismissed the idea. If he surrendered the information too early, they might see him as collateral damage amongst a deadly raid.
While he was still hiding amongst the enemies, Ash would keep silent.
Ash had some theories about the Scythe’s duties, and he couldn’t help but suspect that maybe they were hiding nuclear weapons. It explained the heavy presence of Riot Reapers and why it was too late to suddenly relocate with a potential Baibot ambush looming closer.
Ash was only speculating, but he couldn’t ignore his theory had plausibility.
He grasped a hand around his beer, watching the masked soldiers behind his own disguise.