by Orion, W. J.
It isn’t fair.
They shouldn’t just get away with this.
I’ll say two things about that;
1: You have every right to be angry at crabs for what happened here.
2: Not all crabs are bad.
How can you figure out which is which?
Trust your intuition?
Have I said how exciting it is that you’re so close?
Feels like… juice is in the air.
Anyway, meet a good crab.
How do you meet a good crab?
Is there a support group for misunderstood crabs?
Haha. There should be. Good crabs could benefit from finding a better community.
Help me get out of this control room and I’ll show you a good crab.
That’s the best reason you’ve given me to rescue you.
Run with it.
Also, I’d really appreciate it. I’m running out of time.
What? I thought you said I had time?
Some, yeah. It’s just… I’m scared. Little hungry.
Don’t take forever.
Please.
An early morning knock on her door woke Yasmine out of a deep, comfortable slumber. Was it the Baron again?
“Who is it?”
“Knox,” came a female voice.
Yasmine smiled and got out of bed after tucking her mom’s phone under her pillow. She unlocked and opened the door. The tiny van driver stood in the hall, hands stuffed in the pockets of her patched and dirty pants. The women exchanged grins.
“You always sleep fully dressed?” Knox asked her.
“Yeah. Can’t cut and run in the wastes unless you’re ready to go. I’m old enough to know there’s an old expression about being caught with your pants down. What do you sleep in?”
“Full plate armor.”
Yasmine chuckled. “You must’ve known my mom.” Yaz pointed at Knox’s head. “No bandage? Bernie had a big one on his head,” Yasmine said to her. “Did you duck when he didn’t?”
“Yeah, he got cut by some glass during the ambush. He’ll mend, barring infection. You and I got out unscathed.”
“That’s awesome. Does that happen a lot?”
“One trip in ten,” she said and shrugged. “Part of the job.”
“Is getting Todd shot up part of the job too?”
“He knew the risks. He’ll heal, thanks to you. I owe you one. All three of us in that convoy do.”
“I was meaning to ask you, why only three people? Why only two vehicles? Seems unsafe to do it with that little resources.”
“It’s what we got. You think Todd is the first gunner to catch a bullet on a trip into the wastes? Hell, on a three mile trip to the station for fuel we get shot at three or four times. You know how hard it is to keep these vehicles running in decent condition?”
“I imagine it’s a task.”
“We get killed and lose vehicles to raiders and crabs on runs to get spare parts just to keep them running, Yaz. It’s the law of diminishing returns. But hey, it’s what we gotta do to stay alive, no joke.”
“I had just decided I liked air conditioning and now I’m depressed,” Yasmine said.
“I know what can cheer you up,” Knox said with a wink.
“What’s that?”
“A guided tour of the tower by yours truly. I’ll show you my apartment, and that hot plate you hooked me up with, plus the tavern, and the market, and the hydroponics gardens. You’ve never seen such greenery, Yaz. It’s like heaven on Earth.”
“I’m game. I wouldn’t mind a glance at heaven. What do I need?”
“A decent pair of shoes.”
Knox gave Yasmine the tour of her life, no joke.
Knox’s apartment on the 15th floor had a view of the old lakebed beside the city. Before the crabs it would’ve been someone’s life-goal office, but now dirty-windowed, worn-carpeted space served a spunky, angry survivor and her brand new hot plate. Knox gave Yasmine another handful of comics as they chatted there. Many of the comics still had covers, and that made Yaz happy.
The rowdy tavern took up two thirds of the third floor of the tower, and had a liquor still as well as a supply of what passed for fresh beer. Yasmine didn’t care for alcohol. She once had to drink a bottle she found in the wastes to avoid dying of dehydration, and even though she did live, the way it made her feel the next morning made her second guess her choice in the matter. No more booze for her.
The parking garage beneath the building housed all the Monolith’s trucks, vans and motorcycles (including the two in the convoy she arrived in, shot to pieces but salvageable). They had at least two dozen functioning vehicles, plus an equal amount of dirt bikes and four-wheelers, plus motorcycles, several military trucks, and a war tank with no treads. Knox said the tank had no ammunition for its cannon, which meant the vehicle was the world’s largest paperweight. Not all of the vehicles were operational, despite a hive of activity by people that seemed to be mechanics. All of their machines were fed by fuel that came from the place Knox called the Station.
The lobby of the skyscraper was the market the Baron told her about. Nestled behind a multi-story wall of glass obscured by curtains of hung tapestries made of old, sun-bleached rugs and sheets, the folding tables, and plywood stacked on sawhorses staffed by dirty, tired, survivors of the war and dry world offered a myriad of equally tired products. Hundreds of sweaty souls milled about and pawed over the goods, eyeing each other from fear and distrust. Ten times the customers were here than on Shant’s busiest day.
Electronics, food, clothing, spices, knives, weapons, and even a table guarded by several sword-wielding thugs sold ammunition. Yasmine spied a small pile of hand grenades on the back of that table, and knew the value of such a powerful item.
“Eyeing the grenades?” Knox asked her later, as they headed through Monolith security doors and down a long hallway past signs that read “cafeteria.”
“Yeah, that’s crazy. Do you have any idea what the wasteland markets would offer up for just one of those things?”
“Enough water for a month,” Knox said.
“Try enough water for a year.”
“Enough water for this?” Knox asked her, and pushed open a set of double doors. The air that rushed through felt…
Alive.
Lush green leaves topped a hundred plants that hung in varying pots and nets, their roots dangling downward into baths of what looked to be unending numbers of water tanks. The greenhouse had a thousand gallons of water in every direction, and enough food for an army. Yasmine was speechless.
“One of the main reasons why the tower gets attacked all the time. Why we have patrols, guard towers, outer walls cordoning off the entire city block. We’re not just a fortress for the sake of our own security. We’re a farm.”
“Where did all this water come from?”
“Building boilers, apartment hot water tanks, reclaimed sewer water, park ponds that got drained early by the Baron. He and his early crew saw the future coming. You wonder why people idolize him. This is wealth, and he shares it freely with those who earn it.”
“More valuable than a pile of grenades,” Yasmine said.
“No joke,” Knox said.
Yasmine stepped aside and let a woman not much older than her by. The clean lady with dirty hands and pulled back hair went straight to a bank of the hydroponics tanks and attended to the plants. She took tremendous time, and was so careful Yasmine couldn’t help but smile at her tenderness. This wasn’t just a job to her, or the other workers pruning, harvesting, and planting. This was making sustenance, maintaining life, the most crucial of all tasks.
“We’re not monsters, Yasmine. We’re just trying to survive, and maybe keep a little peace on the way.”
“Why would you keep a teenager hostage?” she blurted. It wasn’t an accusation at all, it was an honest questions she shouldn’t have asked.
“What?”
She had to think of a cover. A reason to ask th
at question.
“I’ve heard you got a teenager here, locked up. Rumors out in the wastes. I can’t imagine why you’d keep a teenager locked up.”
Knox looked at her, confused.
“A teenage boy?”
“I don’t think we have any teenagers locked up right now. But it happens, Yasmine. Some people commit crimes regardless of age. You don’t have to be 20 years old to get locked up.”
I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t think she knows anything, and what I already said gave away too much. What if she asks the Baron if he has a teenager locked up in secret?
“You should ask the Baron yourself. Is this a friend of yours? Is that why you really wanted to come here?” Knox asked her. “Is this the complicated thing you were talking about in the van?”
“I don’t-“ she sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“I get that. Ask the Baron about your teenager.”
“I’m afraid to.”
“Why? I’ve never seen him take a liking to anyone like he has you. If anyone can ask him about a prisoner of ours right now, it’s you.”
“I don’t know if I can trust you, Knox. I don’t know if I can trust him.”
Knox took Yasmine by the elbow and led her back into the empty hallway. When she was sure no one was about, she leaned closer to Yasmine and whispered.
“I owe you my life,” she said. “Bernie and I… Todd, we’re alive because of you. You want me to keep a secret? You got it. I’d cut a leg off for you. I’ll take any secret of yours to my shallow grave, wherever that might be.”
Yasmine saw the look in Knox’s eyes and rolled the dice.
“I have pretty good info that he’s got someone in his custody that’s a friend of mine. I’m super worried that if he finds out that person is a friend of mine, he’ll off me.”
Knox’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Is this a rescue? Did you come here to Shawshank someone?”
“What?”
“Not important. Did you come here to rescue your friend from the clutches of the evil Baron?”
“I don’t know,” she said, then shrugged. “Maybe.”
“High time to come to a decision on that, eh? You’re walking a thin line here, Yaz. You’re almost calling yourself out as an enemy of the tower, and the Monoliths. I brought you here. He’ll throw you off the top floor and then me after to land on you.”
“I’m not your enemy. I’m not here to hurt you guys. I just think… I just… He’s a good person, my friend. He’s helped me, and Shant. I think he did something that the Baron considers unforgiveable, and it should be forgivable.”
“What’d he do?”
“He helped crabs.”
Knox physically stepped backwards so fast she hit her butt on the wall of the passage.
“You guys hit a crab patrol not that long ago, and he was helping them. He was scooped up and locked up by the monoliths.”
“Why would anyone help a crab?”
“Because not all of the crabs are bad,” she explained.
“Come again? They’re all bad, Yaz. They invaded our planet, and took all the frigging water. They’ve left us to die. Those that are still here are sport hunting us for fun. They won, now they’re just rubbing it in.”
“No. They’re not all like that. Some don’t agree with what happened. Some are here, trying to help us rebuild, or survive. My friend was helping them.”
“I see. I see. Can I give you some bad news?”
“Maybe?”
“Yasmine, I was a part of that hit on the crabs. There were no humans with the last group of crabs we hit.”
“No survivors, you mean?” She said as a potent sinking feeling made her entire body become unwell.
“No. No humans.”
“Were there any survivors at all?”
Knox sighed. Her demeanor changed. “You need to talk to the Baron about that.”
“I need time to build up the courage.”
“I’ll keep your secret, Yaz. But you gotta talk to him, and soon. There’s something afoot, and he has the answers you need.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The Throne Room
He reminded her of Gordon, back at the gate in Shant. A young man—a kid, really—armed with a small sledgehammer hanging in one hand, and a pistol on his hip. He had a stern quality that people wore when the safety of others was entrusted to them. He had to be serious; it was the only way to keep his charges safe.
He stood at the elevator, in front of the circular buttons that summoned the lift. No one could go up or down without his permission. Of course down wasn’t the issue from the 17th floor. Anyone on this level could descend, but going up beyond here… maybe not so much.
Yasmine sat on the comfy couch in the common area, her legs propped up on the armrest, her feet dangling over. That the couch was not only comfy but in good condition amazed her. She aimed herself towards the wall of windows that overlooked the destroyed city and the wasteland heading towards Shant, but sideways so she was still able to look at the guard. She’d been mostly alone all afternoon after going on the tour and having that terrible, awkward, revealing conversation with Knox.
“Something’s afoot,” Knox had said, and those two words put a crushing amount of doubt into Yasmine.
What was afoot? Was Trey lying to her? Misleading her? Who was Trey, anyway? Was he really a teenager? What was his real name? He said he didn’t like it, and wanted to use the nickname instead… he seemed so honest and yet…. He said he had gray hair? What teenager has gray hair?
After all I’ve been through, I bet I have more than a few.
Yasmine didn’t feel comfortable texting Trey. Not in the public space, for sure, and not in private either. Whatever he said to her would be self-serving. He wouldn’t tell her the truth if it meant she wouldn’t try to rescue him, so why bother asking him anything at all right now?
She needed answers from someone else, and to get those answers, she had to risk the Baron’s wrath.
And to get to the Baron, she had to first talk to that guard standing in front of the two circular buttons.
“Jasmine, right?” he asked her from all the way across the common room near the elevators.
She’d been spotted. Faster than a meek crawling through the darkness her heart exploded into a drumbeat faster than the electronic music on her mom’s phone.
“Uh, yeah,” was the best she could muster after being startled. “No, it’s Yasmine, with a Y.”
“I’m sorry. I was close at least. Are you bored? You have to be bored. You’ve been sitting there for an hour.”
“No, not really. Got a lot on my mind,” she answered.
“First time this high up in the city?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“First time I went up a few floors here and saw the big picture like this I didn’t know whether to think what the tower offered was worth the risk. What if the crabs came back to do what they already did again? The city seemed vulnerable. You know, like arrogant? How dare we build anything so tall? It’s like we were begging for the crabs to come kill us. I thought about it for a week before joining.”
“It’s a lot to think about,” she said, and was thankful for his tangent.
“Is that what you’re thinking about? Joining the Monoliths?”
“Kind of.”
“Is there anything I can help with? Honest Abe.”
Maybe. Maybe you can.
“I heard that the Monoliths hit a patrol of crabs awhile back, is that true?”
“Yeah. Three of them. Our scouts saw them skulking around a mile away or so. Moving stuff around, being all sketchy. I mean, what do crabs want to steal, anyway? What could be left behind they’d want?”
“And you attacked them?”
“The Baron set up an ambush. We got ‘em. Amazing right? Three crabs in one battle.”
“No humans were working with them?”
“Why would anyone help a crab? I mean…
maybe if they were going to get the stuff the crabs were stealing?”
Right back to square one. She sighed.
“If there was anyone helping them, I didn’t hear about it. Did you know people who got hurt in the ambush?”
“No, just… hearing rumors about people helping crabs.”
“That’s messed up. You know, you should ask the Baron. If anyone would know about people helping crabs, it’s him. Everything that happens within 50 miles of this city winds up going in front of him.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask him.”
“Want me to see if he’s available?” the guard asked, and produced a small, black walkie talkie from his belt. “Take me a minute.”
“Yeah.”
He thumbed the device on. “Baron this is Rick on floor 17, you out there?”
It took a minute, but the walkie crackled back to life. “Go ahead, Rick.” It was the Baron.
“Your lady guest here is wondering if you have time for a meet up.”
“Tell Yasmine I can be free in fifteen minutes. Send her up to my floor. I’ll meet her in the lobby there. Michael will show her around.”
“Thank you, sir,” the guard replied. He mouthed a silent ‘wow’ and turned to hit the round button with the arrow pointing up.
“What should I bring?”
“Hell if I know. I’ve never been to the sanctum. Going up,” he said as the twin metal doors slid open.
Yasmine hopped up off her couch and jogged past him into the elevator. She felt the comforting weight of her mom’s phone in her pocket. She turned and faced the guard as the door closed. He winked, and smiled at her. She didn’t respond. Didn’t know how to.
She yanked the phone out of her pocket as soon as the queasiness that told her the elevator was moving hit her.
I’m coming up to the Baron’s floor.
I have a plan.
Be careful, Yasmine. He’s…
I’m a big girl. It’s time for me to hear the truth.
There’s an old expression about that. Be careful what you wish for?
I do what I want. Where is the room you’re in?
His living area is two floors. My room is actually on the roof, above his second floor. You need to take the stairs.