by Quil Carter
Eh, who was I trying to impress though? I couldn’t care less what Killian thought of me. I had never even so much as made eye contact with the kid.
Still though…
I felt my hand twitch towards Killian’s clean golden hair, wondering briefly what it would feel like between my fingers. I licked my lips as if reminding myself why I was there in the first place, and shifted my gaze towards the water-filled soda bottle and smirked.
Killian was indifferent. I wasn’t even two feet behind him and he was still indifferent. This was the thing that was forever annoying me, nose in a book and head in the clouds. Anyone could be sneaking up on him right now to gut him like a carp and eat him faster than a deacon ate a rat and he wouldn’t even know what hit him.
I watched as he took a bite out of his dried meat and crouched down like I was ready to pounce on him. If I wanted to, I could reach out and touch him right now; all that was separating the two of us was a several-foot-high mound of red rock and a clump of wispy yellow grass.
I leaned forward and rested my right hand on top of the slab of rock, and, with my free hand, I stretched towards the soda bottle. At the same moment, as Killian turned a page in the large textbook he had been reading, I made my move; before the page even touched the opposite end of the book, the soda bottle was gone.
In an instant I was gone too. I didn’t stick around to make sure Killian had not seen or sensed my presence. As soon as I had the bottle in my hand I slinked back into the shadows, and a few moments later was at my perch again, looming over the canyons of the greywastes.
I brushed my dark hair out of my eyes, smirking as I watched the unsuspecting boy turn another page. I unscrewed the cap and took a long congratulatory swig of my spoils, smacking my lips together arrogantly.
Killian jumped a bit at the noise I had made, but didn’t turn around.
“Yeah, now he hears me,” I mumbled to myself as I took another large gulp of water.
Killian scratched his blond hair and let out a small sigh. Without looking up from his textbook, he reached out his hand and felt around for his water bottle. He paused and looked up from his textbook, then arched his back to look past the spot where the rocks had started to slope downwards. He soon slumped back down when he couldn’t spot the missing bottle.
He closed his textbook and sat there perfectly still, as if trying to process this new mystery.
I grinned, and in spite of myself let out a snicker. Killian turned around and looked up at me. I quickly averted my gaze just slightly and started paying a lot of attention to the valley below.
From the corner of my eye I could see Killian scowl, obviously not as impressed at my thievery as I was. He looked like he was about to say something, but then stopped. I was about to throw him the soda bottle when I heard a soft crunching noise.
I froze and strained my ears. Killian had heard it too; he shot a scared look down and jumped to his feet. I dropped to the ground and pressed my stomach flat against the rock. In one fluid fast motion I got out my M16 and positioned it. My heartbeat started to race, as I became soberly aware of how far away from Killian I really was.
I knew without even thinking that whatever was coming up that path, I wouldn’t be able to reach it before it could reach Killian. I also knew that it was too far to jump from my spot to Killian’s; that would result in broken bones at best. I uttered every single curse word I could think of as I aimed my rifle towards the edge of the rock, where the intruder would emerge.
Whatever it was, I would have to snipe it and hope that Killian was smart enough to get out of my way and give me a clear shot.
The crunching stopped and I held my breath. I swore and belly-crawled to the very edge of the cliff. Narrowing my eyes, I adjusted my hold on the gun, waiting for whatever was down there to step out from behind the rock and come into shooting range.
“I bet he’s aiming at me right now, isn’t he?” a familiar voice echoed from behind the rock.
I let out a huge sigh of relief, the tightness in my chest immediately unclenching. I rose to my feet.
“You’re right about that,” another male voice chuckled and stepped into my line of sight. The block leader and the closest thing I had to a parent, shielded his eyes from the sunlight and looked up at me.
“Yeah, I see you, asshole,”
Greyson laughed and his light-haired partner Leo stepped into view too, both of them looking up at me with the greatest amount of amusement.
“Where you find the unschuldig, you’ll find the teufel.” The corners of Leo’s eyes creased as he grinned. “And just the devil I was looking for. Reaver, we’ve had reports that there is a merchant’s caravan coming this way, early tomorrow morning. ‘Tis the season with the water levels dropping in the Typhus. Both of you pack it in; we’re locking everything down ahead of time, in case it’s a Trojan.”
I grunted loudly and scratched my temple with the end of the rifle. A caravan was always a welcome rarity; though it came with its own set of risks, but usually nothing I couldn’t handle. Still though, with Killian being close by I would rather err on the side of caution and get him into the safety of the block.
Trojans were our biggest problems. Those were ravers or just asshole wasters disguised as harmless merchants, usually there to kidnap our people for ransom, or rob us of money or supplies. It hadn’t happened in a long time, but the moment you let your guard down was the moment you get your whole block massacred and eaten.
“We haven’t had a caravan here since early winter,” I said. I was glad they were coming though; I was running low on a few things myself.
I clicked my rifle into my holder and turned around; making my way down the jagged rocks to the path I had snuck through just a few moments ago. I quickly covered the distance, my feet barely touching the ground as I made my way down the trail, not giving the others a second glance.
“Well, I hope whoever is leading this caravan is stocked, we need more medical supplies. Doc is starting to bitch,” Greyson said from behind me. I shrugged, stopping momentarily in front of a large ten-foot drop-off, before jumping down from rock to rock with ease, and landing at the bottom with another soundless thunk.
I turned around and, crossing my arms impatiently, watched as the others carefully navigated over the same steep descent I had just jump down.
“Wipe that smug look off of your face, you agile piece of shit, we aren’t all young and reckless you know,” Greyson grunted. He had just turned forty and, though he was hard as nails, he wasn’t as dexterous as me.
No one is, I thought to myself. I had been scaling these rocks since I was big enough to sneak out of the block, and climbing over them was second nature to me.
I watched as Greyson and Leo jumped in unison down from the last slab of rock and onto level ground. The dark-haired Greyson wiped the sweat off of his forehead with a rag and passed it onto his partner. It was warm today, even though within the hour I knew night would be on us.
I looked away from the dingy grey sky and back to the slope, and watched Killian.
He was a pathetic sight indeed. His heavy backpack, stuffed with textbooks, was slung over his back and I could see he was having a difficult time making it down the steep slope. My body flinched to help him down, but I stopped myself. It was one thing to keep an eye on him while he was off in the greywastes unarmed, but I wasn’t about to become his personal escort. Falling flat on his face wouldn’t kill him, and maybe it would teach him to not carry so much shit around.
But I was relieved when he didn’t fall – an odd thing for me, since usually I took copious amounts of joy from seeing those around me suffer.
He did take longer getting down this rock slope then I would have liked though. By the time he had made it to the bottom, Leo and Greyson were twenty or so feet ahead of us. It was unwise to stray so far away from your group, but neither I nor the other two were the type of men to wait for stragglers. Stragglers get eaten, and it’s the stragglers that will slow down th
e predator that’s coming after you.
Killian let out a deep breath and adjusted the backpack. I took a step back as he started to walk forward and looked past him towards the steep canyon slopes. From the corner of my eye I could see him looking at me as he passed, only a few feet away and still smelling nice. I could see that he was trying to make eye contact with me, but I didn’t turn towards him. I didn’t speak a word to him, didn’t even acknowledge his presence.
No, I don’t know why, it was just my thing and he seemed to take hints pretty well.
When Killian was a few steps ahead of me, I started to follow behind; checking my back to make sure nothing was stalking us. I would rather it was me taking a hit if something was going to attack us; at least I was armed and experienced.
As I checked behind me, my thoughts travelled to the caravan, apparently on its way here. That was a rare thing, and probably one of the many reasons Aras was a safe place to live.
The run of the mill caravans wouldn’t be caught dead in this area; even mercenaries demanded a substantial amount of money to have them even consider coming out here, mostly because of the canyons surrounding the area.
The canyons bred danger and harboured it; the steep plentiful rocks hiding the crazed wild men that were the ravers, and the deep caves perfect for escaped rats to try and scrape out a miserable living. Though those sub-humans were nothing compared to the radiated animals that scoured the rocks, devouring anything that had meat stuck to its bones.
The huge slabs made the whole canyon a giant maze that stretched for miles and miles in every direction north of Aras. At the very bottom of the canyon, after a steep and treacherous descent, stained red boulders and rocks cast a permanent shadow over the vast valley below. The Typhus River was said to eventually flow down there as well, leading to the lakes of Typhus, a few hundred miles from Aras. But no one had ever survived the surveying long enough to confirm that.
The south wasn’t as bad as the north geographically, but was a horror fest in itself.
The south, or the blacksands as we called it, was made up of the same greywastes that surrounded all of us, but was littered with abandoned cities, and, the real icing on the cake, the factories and laboratories. The horror came from the rumours we were constantly hearing from the mercenaries who would travel around those areas. Rumours of horrible experiments that went on in those labs, and the mutated, radiation-crazed abominations that roamed the cities and towns. All thanks to Skytech, King Silas’s science program.
I looked up as I heard the gate screech open. A few paces ahead of me, Greyson, Leo, and Killian were walking inside to the safety of the community.
“Anyone after you, Reaver?” one of the other sentries asked as I approached the gate.
“No,” I said simply.
Her name was Sadii, and she had the same job as I did, though she only worked half of the time since she started spitting out brats.
I heard the familiar sound of rusted metal grinding together as Sadii started to bring the gate down from behind me. There were two entry gates on this side of the block, both of them raised and lowered by hand cranks. Inside the ‘quarantine area’, as we called the space between the two gates, was a third gate that would open to the grey area of the fence which was the deacons’ territory. It was our own special solution if we got any guests we weren’t too keen on letting in the block.
“Are you on tonight?” Sadii called as I walked through the second gate. She lowered the night vision goggles that had been resting on her head. I heard a high-pitched mechanical whine as she turned them on.
“No, not tonight,” I said. I looked up and watched as Killian started walking down the main street, probably heading home.
“Have a nice night then,” she said. I gave her a nod and continued down the road. I was about to follow Killian when I heard Greyson behind me.
“Reaver, want to help me feed the deacons?” he called. I tore my gaze away from Killian and shrugged.
“Sure,” I said quickly. I felt a pull to follow Killian, just to make sure he got home safely, but I knew he would be okay.
I took a drink from my stolen soda bottle, and followed Greyson to the Slaught House.
The Slaught House was exactly what it sounded like – a huge gutted warehouse where we bred and kept our rats for food.
The majority of our work-force worked at the slaughter house, making sure we had enough food for ourselves and for our deacons. It was a full time job, making sure everything was clean enough to not breed disease, and making sure we were breeding and capturing enough rats to continue to feed our block and the dogs. I didn’t envy them; I couldn’t stand the smell of the place. The dogs didn’t mind though; food was food. They would eat themselves if they got hungry enough.
I looked back behind me, and I could see our guard dogs clearly, pacing the chain-link fence that kept the rabid bastards from escaping into the greywastes. I could hear their bloodthirsty panting from here, and I knew that they were hungry. They were fed at the same time, twice a day, they knew food was coming.
The feral deacons were fucking crazy. They’d lost their minds from the radiation long ago, but I liked them. They were my backup, an extra set of eyes to help me keep Aras safe. There was no question that when we had strangers approaching the block, they would let out a scream that would make your ears ring if you were within twenty feet of them, and their growls would make your rib cage shake. The half-breeds we raised and sold to the merchants and legionaries were harmless compared to those fuckers, but they were chipped so the radiation hadn’t had a chance to rot their brains.
We kept them separated from the block by large concrete slabs fifteen feet high and two feet thick, wide enough for us to sentry. The dogs had a fifteen foot wide run that surrounded the entire town. The concrete blocks kept them from getting to us, and a tall chain-link fence, covered with razor wire, kept them from escaping into the vast wasteland. Anyone suicidal enough to try and get in here without asking would have to go through a few obstacles to get the privilege. The dogs were too wild and savage to be let loose to freely roam around us or around the greywastes, so the fences were there to keep them in as much as to keep everyone out.
I followed Greyson towards the Slaught House; down a street we had named Rat Street. The street signs for Aras were long gone, but we still kept track of them through spray-painted stop signs, or the windshields of abandoned cars. I had named the street I lived on Quil Road after my favourite home-made cigarettes spiked with opiate powder. Before I moved there it was called something different, but I had gotten bored one night and decided to personalize it. Though I made sure no one in town besides Greyson, Leo, and Reno knew which house I lived in. I slept better that way.
After we had walked a few more blocks down Rat Street we started to approach the parking lot of the warehouse. It was a parking lot in name only. The pavement was long broken and there were huge chunks missing. Rusted cars and refuse had been pushed off to the sides to make way for the distribution truck. These piles, like many of the debris mounds in Aras, were occupied by our resident feral cats. These cats were one of the few species of animals that were Geiger-chipped to prevent them becoming radiated and crazy. They kept the radrat and scaver population at a minimum.
There were a few working cars and trucks parked in the front of the building, and a few more parked in the back near the loading area. The wasteland didn’t have many working vehicles; lots of them had rusted out, but the few that we did have were vital. The last thing we needed was an escaped group of rats making trouble; though the target practice was always fun when they did.
In Aras, everyone got around by just walking. Most of the roads were blocked by rusted cars or debris. The only place you could move a vehicle was from the Slaught House to the square.
Outside in the greywastes, everyone either got around by caravans pulled by bosen, their own two feet, or if funds were available, a quad or some other all-terrain vehicle. The wasteland was such a
piece of shit to get around in, walking was really the easiest thing to do; the roads were too old and broken-up to drive on, at least in this remote area.
Greyson banged on the front of the Slaught House doors and we both stood back. A few moments later the double steel doors opened and an older man with salt and pepper hair appeared.
“Ah, feeding time for the mongrels?” the man grinned. He had more than a few teeth missing. I had known him all my life as the boss of the Slaught House; he had been working there since I could remember.
“Sure is,” Greyson said cheerfully. He took a step to walk inside, but the old man, named Gary, didn’t move to let us through. Instead he crossed his arms in front of his chest and cocked us both an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Is he coming in too?” he took a nod towards me, but I could see from his eyes he was looking past me. Greyson and I turned around to see what he was talking about.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Standing behind us, probably about ten paces back, was the last person I had expected to see.
Chapter 2
Reaver
“I… I was wondering if I could help too?” Killian asked quietly.
I wasn’t expecting that at all. Killian sometimes helped at Doc’s, but for the most part he just stuck to himself. He hadn’t been assigned a job yet; everyone basically let him do whatever he wanted to after his parents died.
“Sure, come on in, son,” Greyson said in the same cheerful voice. He waved Killian in, and the four of us walked inside the large warehouse.
I immediately started feeling uneasy. Half of me wished that Greyson had told him to piss off, but I knew that that wasn’t in Greyson’s nature at all. He loved teaching everyone who showed an interest in learning. He and Leo were the ones who had taught most of the younger kids, including me and Reno, how to read and write.
We walked through the warehouse towards the back. It was dark inside. Although it was one of the few places in town that was still wired for electricity, the wiring was old, and we were tired of the electrical fires; we had switched to running it mostly with extension cords.