Wasteland Wonderland - Part 1 Page 4

  I see fear in his eyes.

  Fear and shock.

  He didn’t expect to die today. He didn’t expect any of this.

  I step on his hand to make sure he doesn’t pick up the gun. I hear bones crunch under my boot.

  He opens his mouth to scream. Blood pours out.

  I kneel down next to him and pick up the blood covered gun. I shake my head in disbelief. I now have three guns. Three small fortunes.

  “So, you need to tell me what’s going on,” I say. “Why all the desperation? Why all the steel?”

  “Get the fuck away from me.”

  “Look, I can end your pain. I can end your suffering. But you need to give me a name. You need to tell me who’s supplying the weapons. You need to tell me who set this whole thing up.”

  “I’m not going to tell you a goddam thing.”

  These guys have all been trained to say the same thing. To resist torture. To endure unfathomable and unspeakable pain.

  “I know you don’t really like me much right now,” I say. “But I just want you to know this is not personal.”

  I say this to try and get on his good side. It doesn’t work.

  “You’re a monster,” he spits. “You’re a monster who beats people to death and kills women for no good reason.”

  I take the gun. His gun. I press it against his stomach. I unload two shots at point blank range. He doubles over in the fetal position, screaming and crying for his mother.

  Funny, I didn’t think Enforcers had mothers.

  “You don’t die from this,” I say. “The gut shot. At least, not right away. It’ll be slow. It’ll be painful. Extremely painful. I’ve seen it, out in the Wasteland. Trust me, you don’t want to go through it.”

  He is crying and screaming and eventually he says, “What… what do you want from me?”

  “I want a name. I want to know what’s going on.”

  “They don’t tell us anything. We’re soldiers. We’re property. We’re weapons of Wonderland.”

  The other guy said the same thing.

  I’m just a soldier.

  Sounds like they’ve been brainwashed to follow orders and to not ask questions.

  To give your life.

  To sacrifice yourself.

  “What were your orders?” I ask.

  “To find you. Find out who you’d talked to. Kill you…”

  “Why?”

  “Because you kidnapped a girl. You helped her escape. You… tricked…” he trails off because maybe he realizes that everything he’s been told is a lie. “She was someone very important. Someone very close to the Collector. You killed her!”

  “Looks like you’ve been played for a fool.”

  He starts laughing. And he looks crazy with his blood covered mouth and his blood stained teeth. He’s delusional from blood loss. From pain. “You think I’m the fool? You’re the fool. You’re so dead, you don’t even realize it. You want answers? You better speak to the Mayor of the Buried City. They sent an Overseer with us. An Overseer. You’re so dead.”

  “The Mayor?”

  I’m starting to realize everyone is in on this.

  The Mayor.

  The Sheriff.

  Wonderland.

  Everyone wants me dead. Just like they wanted Ruby dead.

  Someone is trying to clean up their mess.

  Someone is trying real hard.

  Sending Enforcers.

  Supplying the Mercs.

  Sending an Overseer.

  The good people of Wonderland are scared about something.

  Lost secrets.

  Skeletons in the closet.

  I shoot the Enforcer in the head, putting him out of his misery.

  I keep his gun.

  I’ve got a feeling I’m going to need it.

  Chapter 7

  I apologized to Lisa on the way out. Told her to keep the steel, the weapons. I gave her the names of a few people who would be very interested in all those dead bodies.

  I realize that because there’s a whole lot of Enforcers walking through the alleys of the Buried City, the Mayor has to have given them the green light to administer their own form of justice. Consequence free.

  The last Enforcer confirmed this theory of mine. Said I should pay him a visit.

  So I decide to pay the Mayor a visit.

  The Mayor’s office is heavily guarded. The entire building is. But I don’t feel like killing people who don’t deserve to be killed. So I give them the slip.

  And then I’m standing in the Mayor’s office and he’s sitting behind his massive hardwood desk and he’s giving me a look that says I’m out of my goddamn mind for coming here.

  He says, “You’re out of your goddamn mind for coming here, you know that? You’ve got a lot of nerve. How many people have you killed?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “To be honest. I’ve lost count. A train full of Mercs. A few more at that sleazy motel when you tried to ambush me, when you tried to frame me for something I didn’t do. I’m up to four Enforcers. I know that. Been counting those bastards. The Lord is going to be pissed.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Just give me some damn answers. The killing will stop. I’ll leave the Buried City. I’ll Exile myself. You won’t never see me again. I’m not afraid of the Wasteland.”

  “There’ll be no Exile. Not this time. And you don’t get to decide when it’s over. It’ll be over when you’re dead and rotting in the Wasteland. Or maybe they’ll put your body on display in the city square. A bullet in your skull, a knife in your back, your gut full of poison. Don’t you get that?”

  “Speaking of poison…”

  “Look, Hector, I don’t know anything. I swear. This all came out of the blue. We hadn’t heard a peep out of Wonderland in five years. Five long years. I was starting to think no one was home. I was starting to think we’d been left behind.”

  “Maybe we have.”

  “No, they’re just waiting like the rest of us,” he says quickly. “And besides, we’ve seen choppers flying over the ruins, we’ve seen Spider Tanks crawling through the Wasteland. But let me just ask you one question…”

  “Fire away.”

  “Did you kill her?”

  “No. I didn’t kill her. But someone did. Someone poisoned her.”

  “Poisoned?” he asks, like he doesn’t already fucking know.

  “Yeah. Wasn’t ordinary poison neither. I’ve never seen anything like it. Only one place it could’ve come from. Only one place she could’ve come from.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m not the smartest guy around. My brother got the brains and the looks. But I know when something is messed up. And this right here, this whole situation… this is messed up. The girl… Ruby… she was on the run. Don’t know what she was running from. But it had to have been big and bad. Mean and scary. Why else would she leave Wonderland? Why else would she come here to this godforsaken city?”

  “You’re asking too many questions, Hector. If you come quietly, if you make some promises, I can cut you a deal. I can get you a ticket out of this city and off this rock.”

  “So you’re working with them?”

  “What the hell do you think this is? Them? There is no them. We’re all in this together. It’s us. We’re the last people on Earth. If we don’t work together, if we don’t follow the rules, we don’t survive this.”

  “The last guy I killed, an Enforcer, he said they sent an Overseer. I’ve never seen an Overseer in my life. And I’ve seen a lot of things.”

  “Ark America. They can get you a place, your own bedroom, your own bathroom. That’s more than a lot of people ever get. They’ll forgive you, if you leave quietly, if you keep your mouth shut.”

  “There’s no forgiveness. Not until I make this right. Not until I make these people pay for what they did to Ruby.”

  “She belonged to the Collector, you know. She was a prized possession.”

  “So I keep hearing. But if you ask me, it’s pretty messed up to think of people as possessions.”

  “These are powerful people you’re messing with.”

  “Where’s the Overseer?”

  “I don’t know. I doubt he’s still here. He’s probably gone back to Wonderland.”

  That’s a lie.

  “Humor me,” I say. “If he was still here. Where would he be?”

  “Maybe the Library. Maybe the Casino.”

  “How are they moving between Wonderland and the Buried City?”

  “However they want. They’ve got transportation. Like I said, they’ve still got Spider Tanks and choppers. You know that.”

  “No. I mean, how would they move undetected.”

  The main entrance to the Buried City is a massive train station. It’s located near the center of a once great city. A great city that now lies in ruins. Half the danger of transporting people to Wonderland was getting in and out of the ruins. Lot of nasties hiding in the rubble, in the abandoned buildings and skyscrapers. I cannot believe they were hiding a tunnel from us.

  People died for crying out loud.

  A lot of people.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Mayor says.

  “Yes. You do. There’s a tunnel. According to my recently deceased friend, it connects this place with Wonderland. I need you to tell me all about it.”

  The Mayor lowers his head. He is sweating bullets. He is afraid.

  They’re probably watching him.

  The room is probably bugged.

  I don’t care.

  “Fine,” he says. “It’s beyond the Water Treatment Plant. They call it the Long Tunnel. But it’s locked. And you need an access code. No one knows it. At least, no one this side of the door knows it. And no one on this side of the door has a key. Not even me. Not the Sheriff. No one.”

  “Any of the bosses?”

  “No.”

  The Mayor finally tells the truth. Actually didn’t take as long as I expected. “Thanks a bunch.” I toss him the knife I took off the Enforcer that I shot in the neck. It’s made from high quality forged steel. It has a serrated edge. It is well balanced. It is worth a lot. “For your trouble,” I say.

  The Mayor picks up the knife. He studies the blade. “You should get a move on.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “They’re coming for you.”

  “Who?”

  He stabs the knife into the hardwood desk. “Everyone.”

  Chapter 8

  I thought about killing the Mayor. How corrupt is he? How far gone? I decided not to. He’d helped my brother get me out of the underworld way back when, helped broker the deal. He even gave me a map of the Wasteland before I was Exiled. So yeah, for this reason, I don’t kill him.

  Maybe I’m getting soft.

  Anyway, the good Mayor said I’d find what I’m looking for at either the Library or the Casino.

  I decide to make my way to the Great Library of the Buried City first. I do this because the Casino is run by some people that I’d rather not deal with right now. It’s run by some people who probably still want me dead and buried and Exiled.

  It’s funny, here we are at the end of the world, the end of life on Earth, and people still want to gamble, people still want to risk it all for the small chance of victory, for the small chance of beating the big odds.

  People gamble with everything. Everything from food and water, to tokens, even people’s lives. There’s a rumor flying around that a guy lost his ticket to Wonderland a few years ago, more than a few years ago. But then there are also the rumors of people winning. Winning big. Winning their way into Wonderland.

  Maybe this is why people do it.

  To win big.

  On to one of the Shuttles.

  Winning a home on one of the Arks.

  So yeah, maybe this is why people keep gambling, keep taking their chances and risking it all. Maybe it’s why they keep putting their lives and their family’s lives up as collateral.

  The weird thing is, the slot machines, they take coins, they take gold dollars and silver dollars and pounds sterling and pennies and nickels and dimes, even though these coins are worth more if they are melted down and made into something useful. If I had to take a guess, I’d say that to the people who gamble with them, the coins, they represent hope. And to the gangsters who run the Casino, these worthless coins represent control.

  I picture myself walking in there right now.

  I picture the fight.

  I picture all the trouble.

  I shake my head. I’m going to need some time to prepare myself for something like that.

  So it’s off to the Library I go.

  My brother and I have used the Library as a meeting place before. The Mayor knows this. I guess it could be a trap, a set up. But it would be no worse a trap than the Casino would be.

  Anyway, there’s only one way to find out. I head for the Great Library, a building that contains the entire history of mankind, both real and fake, biased and unbiased. Within the pages of the books, within the dusty covers are lies and truths and stories too fantastic to be real.

  Usually the place is full. Full of people who want to better themselves by reading up on the terrible history of the human race, full of people who want to escape from this world into a fictitious world with fictitious characters.

  I once asked my brother why he reads so much, why he spent so much time in the Library.

  “To learn everything I possibly can,” he answered. “To reject the useless and keep the useful.”

  I said, “Bullshit. What’s the real reason?”

  He said so he could become a better liar. “To be a good liar, you need to know the truth of things.”

  I never understood what he meant by that, but then again, he was always smarter than me.

  Bastard.

  I walk to the front desk and I’m surprised to find the place isn’t entirely deserted.

  The Librarian is still here.

  Nice old lady. Runs the place by herself. Not sure of her name. I was always better with faces.

  “Hector,” she says because she knows my name, because maybe she knows everyone’s name. “There’s someone here to see you. He’s waiting in the back. In the law stacks.”

  “Friend?” I ask.

  “A better friend than you deserve.”

  I walk past the main common area, past rows and rows of hardwood tables adorned with reading lamps. The tables and the reading area give way to rows and rows of bookshelves. Towards the back, there’s a stairwell that leads down into a lower level basement.

  The Law Library.

  An entire library, an entire basement devoted to the laws of the human race, to a dying civilization.

  Down in the basement there are more shelves. Some of them are moveable to save room. You can slide them together. Like a giant accordion.

  Someone grabs my shoulder. There’s only one person who’d be brave enough to sneak up on me like that. Only one person who could sneak up on me like that.

  My brother pulls me into a forgotten row of shelves that contain forgotten laws.

  He’s holding a set of keys. “There’s a Sunspeeder with your name on it. You can make it. It’s not too late. Provided you leave right now.”

  “Why the hell would I leave? I like it here. Life’s just starting to get interesting again.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Hector. You’ve pissed off a lot of people. You’ve pissed off the wrong people. You need to go. You need to go right now.”

  I’ve never seen my brother like this. Stressed out. Fearful. And I sure as hell don’t want to drag him into this mess.

  “Who have you been talking to?” I ask.

  “Does it matter? The Mayor. The Sheriff. They’re all freaking out. The city is crawling with Enforcers. It’s only a matter of time before they find you, before they all find you and back you into a corner.”

  I imagine being surrounded by a bunch of elite soldiers, armed to the teeth with high-tech military grade weaponry. It sounds like a dream come true. A kind of fantasy where I get to kill a whole lot of people, completely guilt free.

  “I can help you,” he says. “But we’re running out of time. The Sunspeeder is hidden in the Wasteland, at the old spot.”

  My brother and I have a few secret places in the Wasteland. These places contain hidden treasure chests and caches of survival equipment. We are the only ones who know where they are buried. Some of them, most of them, you can only find with a GPS tracking device. Otherwise you could spend a lifetime looking for something buried in the Wasteland, in an endless desert, finding only dirt and sand.

  The ‘old spot’ he’s referring to, is an old military style concrete bunker. I think it used to be a weapons and supply cache. Last used by the military during the Great Wars. Most of the bunker is buried, swallowed by the Wasteland. Only a small door is visible, and it’s only visible if you know where to look. And only if you know what you’re looking for.

  I take the keys to the Sunspeeder and I lie. I tell him I’ll go. I’ll go all the way to the Narrow Canyon. I tell him they’ll never find me in the maze of tunnels and caves and canyon walls. This is what he wants to hear. I don’t know if he believes me or not. He can usually tell when I’m lying.

  He’s about to say something, probably something about how he doesn’t believe me, but then the lights go out. And the entire Library falls into darkness. My brother takes out a flashlight with a red light filter. My brother is prepared because he’s always prepared.

  Tiny emergency lights built into the floor show the way out, back the way I came in.

  “They’re here,” he whispers. “I told Meryl to cut the lights when they arrived.”

  “Who’s here?”

  “The Enforcers. The Overseer.”

  “You really think they sent an Overseer?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  My brother is not messing around. Not that I am either. I’m in this to the end. The very end. I’m ready to kill as many of these bastards as it takes.

  “Do you need your gun back?” I ask.

  I open my jacket to show him my arsenal.

  Two handguns.

  The rapid fire.

  “Jesus Christ,” my brother whispers in absolute disbelief. “Where…” He is about to ask me where I got them. But he figures it out. He waves the question away. “I don’t want to know.”