The Wastelander

by Tipsy Wanderer

  Ka-cha! She instinctually pulled back the rifle bolt and cleared its chamber. The empty casing rang when it hit the ground. Bang! She fired again, and this time, her shot tore through one of his bat-like wings. Academician Roste hit the ground like a kite with its string cut.

  Hyena was on top of him in an instant with claws bared.

  Roste was faster, though, and met Hyena with a kick from his powerful leg. The shapeshifter was knocked back, and Roste lunged at him once again with his sword. This time, Cloudhawk was too far to help even if he used his invisibility cloak. Hyena had to face his creator on his own.

  It was a close call, but a figure even larger than Hyena came tearing through.

  The wolf matriarch was faster than the other creatures and covered dozens of feet like a bolt of silver lightning. Its mighty clawed forelimbs struck Roste square on his shoulders and their momentum flung the Academician back more than thirty feet. The other mutant wolves caught up and began to gnaw at the evil man’s arms and legs.

  Hovering over him, the matriarch opened her maw wide and coated him in a caustic fog. It poured over Roste’s head and face, and being at least ten times stronger than that of a typical rotwolf, even steel would melt under a direct blast.

  Roste had been weakened through the course of the fight, and his abilities had begun to wane. Even so, he wrenched an arm free from the tearing jaws of the wolves and jabbed his cane sword into the matriarch’s body. The wound was harsh, deep, and severed her spine.

  Hyena screamed a wail full of rage and anguish, “No!”

  Piteous whines arose from the others in their pack, but the matriarch was not deterred. For five full seconds, she released her noxious cloud over the Academician, turning even the ground into a bubbling pit.

  Roste screamed at her in a mad fury. He hacked at her waist until it was cut apart. With his left arm, he struck her jaw and shattered her teeth. The upper part of her body was knocked several feet into the air while organs spilled from her wounds and onto the ground. What remained of the matriarch lay in a bloody heap several feet away. She pawed at the air for a moment longer. Then, her vibrant green eyes went dark.

  126 The Fall of a Genius

  A melancholy he could not restrain flooded Hyena as he witnessed the wolf matriarch die to save him. The anger and pain that arose came from deep within his soul.

  Roste stumbled back onto his feet with some effort, reeling from the acidic fog. His head and most of his chest was a rotted mess. His eyes had melted, leaving him blind.

  With bloodshot eyes filled with rage, Hyena charged again. Roste could not see, but his hearing was fine, so when he heard the shapeshifter coming, he swung wildly with his weapon. Meanwhile, Hyena had lost his mind to fury and his only interest was in tearing this man limb from limb. He didn’t even attempt to dodge.

  At this crucial moment, Hellflower lifted her rifle and fired. The bullet caught Roste in the shoulder and stopped his swinging.

  Hyena struck him first with his right leg. The kick brought Roste up into the air and smashed him against the nearby corridor wall. He then quickly followed with a flurry of blows to the head. Each blow had enough force behind it to collapse a normal man’s chest. Roste was like a punching bag that threatened to burst at the seams. Bones all over his body were broken, and even the iron wall he was pressed against was dented.

  These injuries were enough to kill a man ten times over!

  “You foolish thing.”

  Roste still refused to die. The sound that came from his crushed vocal cords hardly sounded human. The Academician grabbed Hyena’s right hand mid-punch and squeezed. Amidst the sickening cracks and pops, his former experiment released a shrill wail. His hand was destroyed, but he still had his left, and the keen claws jutting from it were thrust into Roste’s left thorax. They slipped through the bubbling flesh and into the freak’s heart.

  Roste did not react except to plant a kick in Hyena’s chest. Their ally was hurled several dozens of feet away before he hit the ground. He struggled to rise but ultimately, couldn’t.

  Having lined up another shot, Hellflower pulled the trigger but blanched when she discovered she had no bullets left. She threw the rifle aside and reached for her last weapon.

  Roste was already locked onto her position. He heaved the sword towards her, its keen edge whistling as it split the air. Cloudhawk was close enough this time to awaken the power of his relic and block Roste’s attack.

  The two weapons met once again, and this time, both broke from the impact. Roste’s cane sword snapped right in the middle and ceased its high-frequency vibrations. The top half snapped backwards and flipped just past Roste’s eyes.

  Hellflower had her gun drawn and ready.

  Roste jumped up and caught the spinning half of his broken sword with a kick that sent it racing towards Cloudhawk. It passed by him and shot into Hellflower’s stomach as she prepared to fire. The jagged, bloodstained metal tore right through her before pinning her to the wall behind, quivering with residual force. She slumped on her metal peg as a pool of blood quickly grew around her.

  The flesh on Roste’s face was halfway healed, but it somehow only made him look more terrible. He reached out and grabbed Cloudhawk by the throat, lifting him off the ground. “I trust you now understand what’s good for you.”

  Cloudhawk felt like a helpless little bird. No matter how hard he struggled, he could not break free. The jagged claws that Roste’s fingernails had become dug into the flesh of his neck. He was suffocating. The pressure had cut off all air to his brain.

  He needed only squeeze the slightest bit and Cloudhawk’s neck would snap.

  Hyena lay in a heap, too wounded to stand while Hellflower was pinned to the wall. None of the mutated animals could do anything to harm Roste. After all of this horror and carnage, would it be the Academician who won in the end?

  No! It wasn’t over!

  Cloudhawk took advantage of this rare chance, so close to their enemy, to do something no one expected. He wrapped his hand around a syringe he’d kept hidden, lifted it high, and jabbed it into Academician Roste’s neck. The flesh around Roste’s neck was still recovering and couldn’t harden against the needle. It slipped right in, and Cloudhawk squeezed the plunger with his thumb, forcing whatever liquid was inside into Roste’s body.

  “What did you do?!” Roste plucked the syringe from his neck. He was blind and had no sense of smell, but he feared what Cloudhawk had done. He knew. He just couldn’t believe it. “What have you done?!”

  “Your body is powerful, Master Academician. I can’t do anything about that…” Cloudhawk’s neck was red under Roste’s tightening fingers, but he grinned nonetheless. “I was just curious how you would react to a dose of your own brainwashing drug.”

  “The brainwashing…? No… no, no, no!”

  Blood leaked from the corners of Hellflower’s mouth. She had already given up hope after getting pinned to the wall. Who would have expected such a sudden reversal of fortunes to occur right after? The brainwashing drugs! The same ones Chimp had planned to use on her.

  The adaptability of Roste’s body had protected him from her bullets. How could such a flimsy needle pierce his skin? The answer was timing, for Cloudhawk knew that while Roste’s mangled flesh was recovering, he was vulnerable. Vulnerable enough for a tiny needle to squeeze in.

  Roste screamed so loudly and so ferociously that the din threatened to deafen them. He spun around and burst through the crowds of animals, fleeing the containment area with Cloudhawk held half-dead in his grip.

  The Academician hurried to his own labs where he frantically began rummaging through his things. Several medicines were quickly imbibed or injected, but nothing would help. Roste had invented the serum. He knew better than anyone that his fate was sealed.

  Its effects would set in quickly. In a few minutes, the damage to his brain and synapses would be wide-spread and irreversible.

  After all of his painstaking work, Roste could take a bull
et to the brain and survive. However, there was nothing even his perfect body could do against permanent damage caused by his medicines. He could already sense his focus waning. It was becoming harder to think, feeling like he was being dragged into a dark hole.

  It was too late!

  Numbness crept through him. With great gulping breaths, he slumped to the ground in the middle of his laboratory. Roste stared at Cloudhawk with newly regenerated eyes as the boy struggled to crawl away. Never… never in a hundred thousand years did he imagine this boy would get the better of him.

  His body continued to heal even as his mind was being destroyed.

  The Academician knew his time was short, and in his final moments, a calm overtook him. With a soft and gentle voice, he called out to Cloudhawk, “Do not struggle. If I wanted to kill you, you’d have been dead long ago.”

  At the closing of this conflict, Cloudhawk felt a broad sorrow. There was no anger or animosity within Roste, as though a sudden epiphany had drained all resistance from him. He stared at Cloudhawk with serene green eyes.

  Roste was not a capriciously cruel man. Although his hands were coated in the blood of countless victims, there was a reason, a motive behind everything. Would killing Cloudhawk reverse his fate? Such was life!

  Cloudhawk gasped for breath and replied in hoarse tones, “You brought this on yourself!”

  “Maybe.” Roste managed a self-deprecating expression. “You know… when I first saw you, you reminded me of myself at your age. We’re a lot alike, you and I.”

  “Oh fuck off! I’m nothing like you!”

  “You haven’t reached my age yet. It’s too early to say what you’ll become.” He punctuated the thought with a bitter laugh. He was quickly losing control of his body. He already couldn’t move his legs. “I’ve nearly reached my end, an old man in his final moments. I’d like to entrust a few important things to you.”

  It was almost laughable. Cloudhawk thought the old man really had lost his mind. Cloudhawk had been very anxious to tear the old man into pieces. Helping him now didn’t seem likely.

  “First, after I am dead, please destroy all of my notes. You must not let these materials fall into Hellflower’s hands. You don’t understand… Hellflower, she… she is even more dangerous than I! Her hunger for knowledge and her ambition is ten times greater than mine ever was.”

  “Second, all of the intelligent animals we keep here must be destroyed by whatever means necessary. Letting them go is opening a Pandora’s box of tragedy. In a thousand years, history will look upon us as sinners and monsters. Do you understand?”

  Cloudhawk replied with a contemptuous snort. Even in his final moments, this old man was a dramatic blowhard.

  “Finally, though I have reached my end, the cause I fought for shall continue. I don’t want it to end this way. I must ask you –“

  Cloudhawk sensed something funny. “What the hell are you on about?”

  Suddenly, Roste’s neck stretched to horrific proportions. Like a viper, he whipped his head towards Cloudhawk and bit him in the throat. The young man yelped and scrambled back, feeling like he’d been bitten by a poisonous snake. As Roste’s neck retracted back to normal, Cloudhawk thrashed and screamed in pain upon the ground.

  The bite had infected him with something, some sort of toxin that ran throughout his body. Whatever this freak had done to him, it couldn’t have been good.

  With his final treachery complete, Roste’s body shriveled up. His long years came creeping back, and he was once more the withered old man Cloudhawk had first met. Only, not entirely. His skin remained that strange blue hue, and his eyes remained blackish-green. The twisted man slumped, appearing to have aged two hundred years.

  The rattling sound from his throat was haggard and uncomfortable to listen to. “Here is some… advice. When I… am dead… Leave. The quicker… the better!”

  It was done. A new beginning was on the horizon. Such was the world. An endless cycle. A spark passed on.

  Trembling hands pulled the finger bone necklace from his pocket, and Roste held it tenderly. Fingers like dead branches stroked each one as his memories brought him back. He thought about his old teacher and regretted never having taken a student of his own. In all the vast wastelands, he had never found anyone worthy of inheriting his knowledge.

  Ten minutes later, Hellflower came stumbling by with a hand pressed against the wound in her abdomen.

  Cloudhawk twitched and jerked in pain upon the ground. Broken flasks and caustic potions were flung all around. Roste sat placidly on the floor with his necklace in his hands, but all focus had left his eyes and he sat muttering nonsense to himself. He’d lost his mind.

  Hellflower stood in the doorway, looking at Cloudhawk as he thrashed and Roste as he muttered incoherently.

  Brainwashing wasn’t accomplished in a single dose of the medicine. The shot Roste had been given was just the first step. There were several more processes required, and considering the peculiarities of Roste’s body, the medicine affected him differently. It was not surprising that it had driven him crazy.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Motherfucker! He bit me! I think I’m poisoned!”

  Hellflower paused and looked around. With all the drugs strewn around, it was likely at least some were biotoxins. It would make sense for him to punish Cloudhawk in his final moments. However, it didn’t look like Cloudhawk was in danger of dying.

  Roste remained kneeling on the ground, fondling his finger bone necklace. He continued to mutter to himself with words no one but he could understand.

  Hellflower didn’t even want to bother with him. She pressed the muzzle of her gun against the back of the old man’s head.

  Bang!

  Roste’s head exploded, spilling brain matter all over the ground as his eighty-year-old body collapsed. As his necklace hit the ground, the cord broke and sent bleached bone scattering in every direction, stained by the blood of the Academician.

  Cloudhawk gaped at her. “You killed him, just like that?”

  “Roste lived his life walking down the wrong path. If we want to save humanity, his way is not the right one.” Hellflower unceremoniously threw her gun aside. “He was obsessed his whole life. This was liberation.”

  Cloudhawk fell silent. The world had one fewer madman in it. One fewer monster. One fewer genius.

  127 Pandora's Box

  The news of Roste’s death spread like a stone thrown in a placid lake. Blackwater Base was flung into chaos overnight. Although there were factions opposing Roste, they had remained secret for a reason, and not just because of his cruel methods. The Academician enjoyed stellar prestige in the base. He was their foundation. No other faction could come close to the influence he wielded, and so they waited and bided their time.

  When the news that Academician Roste had been slain in a fight with Hellflower and Hyena, opposition arose almost immediately. The call went up for anyone loyal to Roste to gather and vigorously oppose his murderers.

  “Hellflower and Hyena are traitors!”

  “They killed Academician Roste and took over his laboratory!”

  “What do you say? Should we fight our way in? Should we avenge the Academician?”

  “Absolutely. We can’t let Blackwater Base fall into the hands of these ambitious snakes!”

  Before long, hundreds of armed fighters were marching on the labs. They hoisted their weapons, firing their guns into the air and shouting, “Kill the traitors! Kill, kill, kill!”

  Many of these rabble-rousers were the Academician’s supporters, but more still were only seeking to profit off the chaos. Roste was dead, and neither Hellflower nor Hyena would escape the matter unscathed. If they could be dealt with as well, then there would be nothing to stop those hungry for power from reaching out to take it.

  Blackwater Base was hidden in the swamp and protected by strong fortifications. It had a water purification system that would be the envy of the wastelands if anyone knew they had it
. Whoever controlled this place would instantly be elevated to one of the mightiest positions in the wastes. It was worth wondering how many people could possibly resist this temptation.

  Hyena was strong, but to put it bluntly, he was a well-developed attack dog and little more.

  The Seekers were different from other groups as they respected scientists above warriors. Hellflower was intelligent and capable but was also a woman. Even among Seekers, women were largely regarded as less important.

  A woman’s place was on a man’s crotch. What business was it of hers to vie for power? Besides that, she was an outsider and didn’t have any standing to lead. Instead, whoever was the first to take power would use her for their own pleasure, for many wanted to enjoy the woman they called “first of the wildflowers.”

  The mob clamored for blood, preparing to lay siege to the labs.

  Before they could, however, the sound of angry growls rose up from all around them. Suddenly, they were filled with fear as they searched for the source of the noises. What was it? How could there be wild animals here in the base? When the mob recovered their wits, they saw shadows all around, just moments before a hail of bullets and arrows descended upon them.

  “It’s a sneak attack!”

  They stopped screaming and attempted to take up a defensive position, but before they could gather up, beasts assailed them from several directions. Ferocious faces with brutal eyes snarled and howled as they descended on the mob.

  “Shit! Mutated animals!”

  “Everyone, kill them quickly!”

  “The lab animals have gotten free!”

  How could these men hope to stave off over a hundred wild beasts? In the space of a few moments, a good number of the rioters had been slain. The rest were forced to throw down their arms and surrender. A large contingent of wastelands fighters followed behind the creatures with their guns and crossbows pointed at the mob.