by J. L. Harden
The big guy is pacing back and forth. The other guy is sitting down on the bed with his back against the wall, reading a book. He seems resigned to his fate. Whatever that may be.
“How many people in quarantine?” I ask. “How many of these cells are there?”
He closes his book. “Countless.”
“Have a guess,” I say.
“Impossible.”
“Why is it impossible?”
“It is because of the way Wonderland is designed. It is simply too big. It is like a giant wheel. Tunnels and passageways act like spokes that lead into the central area, the capital, if you will. The quarantine facility goes right around. It is a huge circular building. It is a crucial security measure. A necessity for preserving the health and safety of the Wonderland citizens, and eventually, the population and the citizens of the Arks.”
I never realized the quarantine facility would be so large. I probably should’ve guessed. It makes perfect sense after all. Of course they’d have a quarantine facility that acts as another wall, another border to cross. They’d be mad not to.
I guess the same goes for the Arks.
“You have the outer walls,” he continues. “Protecting us from the Wasteland. Then the quarantine facility. From here there is a train that delivers us to Wonderland. To the last operational space station on Earth.”
“It’s more of a city,” says the other guy.
“How many outer walls are there?” I ask.
“It is hard to say. They are constantly moving, constantly building new ones. At last count there were at least three outer walls. Security is paramount. I am sure you understand.”
Moving walls? Building new walls? This is news to me. “How long have you two been locked up here?” I ask.
“Too long,” says the nervous guy.
“We have both been here for over five years. When people first arrive they are taken into a general population area. Eventually, when a cell becomes available, you are chosen to move into the more secure wings of the facility. We are assigned one of these holding cells. Here we are tested and tested. Prodded and probed. And then if everything is fine, if everything is satisfactory, we are entered into another general population. From there, if there are no issues, you are allowed access to Wonderland.”
The whole process sounds unbelievably drawn out. Overly cautious. But then again, maybe it is merely necessary.
“But you should already fucking know that,” says the nervous guy. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. So tell me, what the fuck are you doing here and where the fuck did you come from?”
I wish I could answer him. But I can’t.
So I say, “What are your names?”
“Rob,” the calm guy says. “And my distrustful and skeptical cellmate is Merle.”
“Hector,” I say.
And when I say my name, Merle goes quiet. Real quiet.
“Things move pretty slow around here,” I say.
“I hear the shuttles are taking longer to return,” Rob says. “I hear they have been grounded for maintenance on Mars. It only takes one cog in the machine to break…”
“That’s bullshit, man,” Merle says. “They’ve got the shuttles. It’s just that the Arks are moving deeper, further away.”
I keep hearing both stories. And I’m guessing that’s what they are… they’re stories. They’re lies, cooked up to confuse and placate.
“Either way, the shuttles ain’t here,” Merle continues. “Which begs the question… just what the fuck are you doing here?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re not supposed to be here. No one has been processed in five fucking years. The whole system has come to a stop. What the fuck are you doing here? How did you get inside?”
I shake my head because I can’t remember how I got here. I was at the Water Treatment Plant. The Long Tunnel. I was hunting. I was getting close.
And then my memory fails me…
And now I’m sitting with my back against the wall of this cell and it’s only now I’m realizing how hot it is. We’re technically behind the walls of Wonderland. I thought we’d be protected, shielded from the Red Giant. But it’s almost as hot as the Buried City in here.
Merle is still suspicious of me and my story. He keeps pressing me. Rob tells him to give it a rest. Tells him to relax.
But I decide to share what I can remember, which unfortunately is not much.
“I was looking for the son of a bitch who killed my girl,” I say. “Her name is Ruby… was … Her name was Ruby. She was murdered. Poisoned. The killer is still out there. He’s still hiding in the Ruined City. Or maybe he’s made a break for the Canyons. But I’m not done yet. I’m not going to let him get away so easily.”
“Still doesn’t answer my question,” Merle says. And then he says, “Wait. You’re going back out there?”
“You’re damn right I am.”
“But we’re in quarantine. We’re inside the walls. We’re protected. And by some sheer fucking miracle you’ve ended up in this cell. We’re so close…”
Closer to Wonderland.
Closer to the Arks.
To Salvation.
This is the dream, the ultimate goal of everyone left on Earth. Maybe not the Wasteland Raiders, and definitely not me, but most people.
And I say, “I don’t care…”
Because I don’t care anymore. All I care about is making things right.
“They’ll kill you,” Merle says. “For asking to be released from here. Asking to go back? It’s just not done. They’ll kill you as soon as you’re outside. They’ll wait for you to turn your back and they’ll plug you. Leave you to rot.”
“Let them try.”
“You’re fucking crazy. And anyway, we have no contact with the people in charge of this place. We know we’re being watched. We know the Enforcers are here behind the scenes, ready to punish if any of us get out of line. But this place is all automated. How the hell are you going to do this? How are you going to ask to be released when there is no one to ask?”
“I didn’t know that. About the place being automated.”
“Well, it is. So looks like you’re stuck here. Unless you do something stupid.”
A plan takes shape in my mind. I could start a fight. A riot. That would get the attention of the Enforcers. That would make them come running for me. And then I can asked to be released back into the Wasteland.
I can ask nicely.
Or I can ask not so nicely.
“This is so fucked up,” Merle says. “Something is going on…”
Before he can offer any theories as to what he thinks is really going on, and before I get a chance to put my plan into action, before I get a chance to do something stupid, the door to the cell opens all by itself.
And standing in the corridor is a small army of Enforcers.
So much for staying behind the scenes…
The Enforcers wear full thermo regulator suits even though we’re inside. They’re wearing head gear as well. And body armor. I guess they’re taking no chances. With all the gear they’re wearing, there’s really no chance of infection or contamination.
The Enforcers point their advanced weaponry at Merle. They order him out of the cell, while telling Rob and myself to move against the rear wall. “Turn around. No sudden movements. You move. You die.”
Harsh. No warning. You disobey a command and you pay with your life. Doesn’t seem right. Doesn’t seem necessary. The Enforcers drag Merle down the corridor. Out of sight. The door closes and now there’s just two of us in the cell.
A few silent minutes pass. And then I ask, “Anything like that ever happened before?”
“No.”
“Strange.”
He raises one eyebrow as he thinks about whether or not what just happened was strange or peculiar. And he says, “Maybe not.”
“What do you mean?”
“That man, he is not who he says he is.”
&nbs
p; “Considering I don’t really know that man… he could be anyone.”
“Exactly. He could be anyone. But yes… yes you do know him. You know a lot of men like him. He is a killer. An assassin. He does not deserve to be here.”
“I’m a killer. And I’d bet good meat that you’re a killer too. It’s just the way of the Wasteland.”
“He was an Enforcer, once upon a time. Part of an elite guard known as the Rangers. These men, they are fearless. They routinely operate out in the Wasteland, in the heat. They act as scouts. As informants. And more often than not, as assassins. But this man, something happened to him. He became disillusioned with Wonderland, with the Lord. With his station in life. And so he deserted. He became a Wasteland Raider. He joined their twisted family. I do not know why. No one does. I guess he had his reasons. And now he is here. He claims he has had his fill of playing Raider, had his fill of living on the outside, his fill of human flesh. So he has infiltrated this facility. Snuck inside. A man who can infiltrate Wonderland, come and go as he pleases, is a dangerous man. A man to be feared.”
“Sounds like he’s done with being a killer. Sounds like he wants off this rock.”
“You are half right.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“He could very well want off this rock. And maybe he will make this dream, this fantasy come true. But he is not done with being a killer. Not by a long shot. He is either working for himself now, or perhaps he is still working for the Raiders. It is hard to say. But what I know for certain is that he is planning to attack Wonderland from the inside. An act of terrorism, of war. If he succeeds, he will force Wonderland to close its borders permanently. No one else will be allowed access.”
“How can I trust you? Why should I trust you?”
“I tell you this in good faith. Because I do not want Wonderland to close its doors. Because I am fortunate enough to be here, instead of out there. And if this man succeeds, he will ruin the chances of the innocent and good people of the Buried city and the Canyons. He will ruin their chances of Salvation. He will sentence them to death.”
“You still haven’t answered my question. Why should I trust you?”
“You should trust me because he is planning to take your life. Tonight.”
“Bullshit. If he kills me, they’ll throw him out. They’ll Exile him.”
“No, they won’t. He will plead self-defense. He will claim innocence. And you? You will claim nothing because you will be dead.”
He was nervous… pacing… tense. When he heard my name, he went real quiet.
“Heed my advice, Hector. And you will live to see another day.”
Chapter 3
The Enforcers come back about an hour or so later and I’m wondering if they recognize me. I wonder if my face is on a wanted poster somewhere on the streets and alleyways and tunnels of the Buried City, on the gilded walls of Wonderland.
How many Enforcers have I killed? I don’t know. I’ve lost count. A small army’s worth. Enough to put me on the shit list of these men.
Enough to make me a wanted man.
Dead or alive.
The Enforcers push Merle into the cell and take Rob away. Two Enforcers grab him and march him down the corridor. I guess they need to question him as well. And maybe they’re questioning all of us, everyone in this tiny cell, one by one. Which means I’m next. And as soon as they get me in a room, as soon as they get a good look at me, they’ll figure out who I am and what I’ve done. They’ll figure out I’m a wanted man. A killer.
And none of this is adding up.
The Enforcers knocking on this cell doesn’t add up.
Me being here doesn’t add up.
And I can’t figure it out. My mind is dark and my memory is hazy and all I can see is Ruby. Alive and smiling. Dead and covered by a sheet.
So yeah, it ain’t adding up.
And the way Merle is eye balling me and clenching his jaw and his fists doesn’t add up.
I don’t know why Ruby was murdered. Not yet. But I’m going to find out. To do this I’ll need to ask a lot of questions. I’ll need to ask them good and hard. But first, I’ll need to get out of this cell and out of this quarantine facility. I’ll need to escape from purgatory, something I’m guessing no one else has ever done.
But before I do any of that, I’ll need to deal with Merle. I’ll need to deal with him because I’ve got this feeling, this good and amazing feeling that Merle is ready for a fight. Ready and willing. The son of a bitch keeps looking at me, sizing me up. This is a problem that I will need to deal with right now.
I look him in the eye. I see fear. “You got something to say?”
“What the fuck are you doing here? What the fuck are you doing in this cell? This quarantine facility is massive. What are the odds that Hector fucking Ramirez ends up in my goddamn cell?”
“So you have heard of me?”
“Of course I’ve heard of you. Everyone has heard of you.”
My damn reputation…
“Are you working with them now?” he asks. “Is that what this is?”
“Them?”
There’s no us. No them…
“Don’t fucking play dumb with me,” he snaps. “Are you working for Wonderland?”
“No.”
“Bullshit. What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I’m looking for someone.”
“Who?”
“A killer.”
For some reason he takes my explanation as a threat. He springs into a fighting stance and he has a shiv in his hand, a makeshift knife that he fashioned from a piece of scrap metal that he found from god knows where. The blade is at least seven inches long, plenty long enough to end my life, to slide into my heart, to slit my throat.
This is how he’ll do it…
He’ll try and stab me first. Cut and stab. Anywhere, any exposed section of my body. He’ll cut my arms, stab my torso, my gut, my ribs, kidneys. But when he goes in for the kill, he’ll stab me in the heart or slit my throat. Maybe both. Probably both. This guy looks pretty worked up. Not sure why. I can’t be sure and I can’t be certain, but if I had to make a wager, if I had to take a guess, I’d say this guy is hiding something.
Maybe Rob was right. Maybe he is an assassin. Maybe he is a turned spy. A double agent.
The knife comes at me, at my chest.
I invite him into my personal space and then I grab his arm. I put him in a wrist lock and an arm lock. He loses his grip on the knife. I keep twisting and a split second later, his ligaments and tendons snap. His eyes go wide and his jaw drops because he wasn’t expecting it to be that fast, wasn’t expecting me to be that fast.
I’m still holding his wrist and I stand on the knife and I say, “Talk.”
“Wha… what?”
“Who killed Ruby?”
“What?”
He can’t form whole sentences. Can’t speak. Can’t think. So I twist his arm and his wrist. He goes to scream but I put my free hand over his mouth, muffling his cry of pain.
And I ask, “Who killed Ruby?”
“Who… who the fuck is Ruby?”
I break his wrist completely and he doubles over, paralyzed with pain. I grab a fistful of his greasy hair and pull his head back and force him to look me in the eye. “Who killed Ruby?”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who you’re talking about. I swear to you. I’ve been in this cell for over a year. Before that, I was in gen pop. I’ve been in quarantine for years! Years, man. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You are lying.”
I’m convinced he’s lying. I don’t know why I’m convinced. Maybe because he just tried to kill me. “Do you want to make it off this rock?” I ask. “Do you want to make it inside Wonderland proper? Do you want to make it all the way to Ark America?”
“Yes, I do. Please. I do.”
“You are so close. Closer than most. So here’s what I’m goi
ng to do. I’ll let you live, if you speak the truth.”
“I am… I am speaking the truth. I swear to you, to the Red Giant.”
“Rob said you used to be an elite guard. An Enforcer. A Ranger. And then you deserted, you abandoned your brothers to join another family.”
He nods his head quickly and enthusiastically. “It’s true. I infiltrated the Raiders. But that was my job. I had to gain access into their clan. Collect intel. Report back. I was a spy for crying out loud. It was my fucking job.”
I don’t know what to believe. If he’s lying, he is very good at it. But then again, an undercover agent, a spy, they’d need to be good at lying. Their life would depend on it.
“Rob said you forgot your place. Rob said you’ve been turned. And now you’re working for them. A double agent.”
“Rob is a liar. I don’t even know that fucker. He’s only been in this cell for a week. One week. And then you show up. Something ain’t right, man.”
And none of this is right.
This cell.
This quarantine facility.
This fucking guy.
The Enforcers dragging us away one by one.
Absolutely none of it is right.
And I’ve got this feeling in my gut that Merle is hiding something. And he did just try to kill me. So I pick up the shiv and he cowers in the corner of the cell.
He begs for his life and then he bargains for it, tries to reason with me. “Okay,” he says, holding his non broken hand up. “Look. Look. Look.”
He keeps telling me to look, like he wants me to see things from his perspective.
“Just stop!” he shouts. “For fuck’s sake, just stop! You’re right. Rob is right. I’m working with the Raiders. But this mission, it has to be done. They’re lying to us. Wonderland is lying to us.”
“I am surrounded by liars,” I say. “So I’m going to ask you one more time… who killed Ruby?”
“I told you, I don’t fucking know who Ruby is.”
And I don’t know what to believe. Is he a Wasteland Raider? Is he a double agent on a mission of terror and destruction? Or is he a Ranger, a Wonderland spy, returning home from an assignment, from years of being undercover?
I don’t know. I’ll never know.