by J. L. Harden
I turn to Rob. “You said the Rangers will have the answers I seek.”
“Yes. They will. They will definitely have the answers you seek.”
“I’m betting my life that they’re down in the lower levels of this basement.”
“You are correct. But there is no way you can go down there. You saw what happens. They all band together. They fight together. United, they have strength in numbers. United, they fight to protect themselves. And there’s no way you can fight all of them.”
“I can. And I will.”
“You will surely die, Hector.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But we’re about to find out real fucking soon.”
I make my way towards the stairwell. The other men shuffle back, clearing the way. They begin smiling and then they start laughing. Then they clap and they cheer. They cheer because odds are, I’ll be beaten and my legs will be broken. Odds are, I’ll be a meal for the Raiders. Odds are, I’ll buy these dead men a few more days of life.
But what else am I going to do? Sit here and wait to be eaten? I’d rather go down fighting. I’d rather go out on my own terms. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to walk down these stairs, down to the lower basement levels. I’m going to fight a hundred men. A thousand men. I’m going to kill as many as need to be killed.
I’m going to find these Rangers and I’m going to get some goddamn answers.
The dead and broken men move out of my way, cheering me on, slapping me on the back, shouting words of encouragement.
I descend the stairs.
Chapter 14
To my surprise, Rob follows me. Don’t know why. No need for him to risk his life and his limbs like this.
We make it down to the first level.
A hundred men are waiting for us.
I tell them I don’t want to fight them. I tell them there’s no need for them to die. “Look, I don’t plan on staying here long. I just need to pay some people a visit. I just need to ask some questions. And then I’ll be on my way.”
“You don’t leave here,” comes the reply from the crowd. “This place is death. A long and slow death.”
“Not for me it ain’t. Now kindly get the fuck out of my way.”
A man in the crowd motions with his head in my direction. He gives a signal. And then ten men… twenty… thirty… a mob of men… who still have their physical strength and their spiritual strength advance on me. And even though no one leaves this place, even though I was just told that no one leaves this place, I can tell that all of these men still have hope. They have not been broken yet. I’m guessing they’ll break eventually, but so far they have survived, so far they have avoided the firing line and the butcher’s knife. And they still dream about escaping.
They rush me. They keep advancing.
And this is a mistake…
And I know I’m going to take a beating here. I know this. But I’ll live. I’ll be just fine. Some of these poor bastards however, they’re about to be broken. They are about to be shattered.
They keep advancing on me, but before we exchange any blows I give them a warning because deep down I’m a nice guy and a good sport. I tell them, “I’m looking for Enforcers. I’m looking for Rangers. Tell me where they are, take me to them, and I won’t hurt you. I won’t kill you.”
I won’t end you and I won’t fucking destroy you.
They ignore my generous offer…
Rob pleads for mercy behind me. Begs the men to leave us alone. His pleas fall on deaf ears.
And once again I’m expecting a fight.
But there’s no fight.
They simply herd us into the stairwell, forcing us down to the next level. And I feel like I’m being buried and I feel like I’m suffocating. There’ll be no mercy. No peaceful resolution. This is a pit of despair, a place of death. Violence… physical violence and physical strength is the only way and it’s the only thing these dead men understand anymore. We get to the next level, to the second level of safety. Another hundred men, all staring at me. Cold stares. But honestly, a lot friendlier than I was expecting.
And again they advance on us, surround us, they urge me to go down, lower, down to the next level. And now I understand, they want to surround me. They want to overwhelm me. And the reason I feel like I’m being buried is because I am actually being buried.
But there’s nothing to do except go with the flow. So I descend to the next level.
And the next.
These are huge basements, huge concrete caverns. Maybe this used to be an underground parking lot. Impossible to tell.
Anyway, we move deeper. And there he is, waiting for me.
The Ranger.
A charismatic leader of men.
A brute with a brain.
A warrior, strong and fit, in his prime and in his element.
He’s behind enemy lines. He’s in so deep.
And now I realize that the stairwell behind me is blocked with men. I really have been buried. I am so unbelievably trapped.
But that’s fine by me.
Because I’m guessing all I have to do is beat the Ranger, take down their undisputed leader. All I have to do is prove myself and my strength and I’ll win the approval and the loyalty of these prisoners.
This won’t be a problem. Not for me. And even though he’s probably got protection from the Raiders and he’s probably accumulated all sorts of power in this prison, I know destroying him and ending him will be easy for me.
Rob is still by my side. He says, “You would have to be mad and desperate and downright stupid to take him on.”
And I’m thinking it’s a good thing I’m a combination of all three of these things.
The Ranger says, “This is a death sentence for you. Coming down here. You’re trapped.”
“Of course I am.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m searching for answers.”
“You want to know who killed the girl.”
“Yeah.”
“What does it matter to you? There’s no way you could’ve known her for more than five seconds.”
He’s right. I didn’t know her for that long…
Five seconds.
A moment.
One moment.
A lifetime.
“Just give me a name.”
“You’re asking the wrong questions, Hector. You’ve already met the killer. But you’ll never find him again. And if you keep this up, you’re never going to find the truth.”
Find the killer. Find the truth.
I’ve got a good feeling that I’m looking at the killer. I’ve got this weird feeling in my gut that I’m looking right at him, looking him dead in the eye. A voice in my head, in my mind, a voice that’s a distant echo says, “Yes.”
But then again, maybe this son of a bitch is messing with me.
I’ll never know because we’re done talking.
This Ranger… this son of a bitch is strong and powerful. He’s a warrior. Created and forged behind the walls of Wonderland and in the heat of the Wasteland, forged through years of elite and specialized and brutal training, through years of fighting and combat.
I launch myself at him because there’s no point in letting him get the first hit. No point in being generous.
No point in taking the risk.
This guy is in his physical prime. Every part of his body is shielded with muscle, every part of him is fast and powerful. Each strike of his will create enough force to knock me the fuck out, to rattle the teeth in my skull.
So I launch myself at him. I open him up, cutting his face to shreds with my fists.
I feel myself smile.
And I’m having a blast. And I don’t want this to be over.
The endless rush of adrenalin kicks in right on schedule.
I am addicted to this feeling.
And now I’m getting worried. Now I’m getting scared.
Scared that this fight will end too soon. Before I get my fill.
But then I feel the crowd, the angry mob behind me.
They grab me, hold me back.
And this is the Ranger’s real strength. His ability to lead men. His ability to control them, get them to fight for him.
When you fight this guy, you’re not just fighting him. You’re fighting a hundred other men. A thousand other men.
This is his power. His strength.
I am trampled.
And this won’t be as easy as I thought it would be. And it won’t be over anytime soon. I fight my way to my feet. The mob clears out.
But I’m dizzy from being stomped and kicked in the head. I’m struggling to breathe. Might have some broken ribs.
The Ranger flies at me. I catch him, wrestle with him. I make space, distance. I throw an uppercut that he catches easily, effortlessly.
“You’re too slow, Hector. You can’t win. You can’t fight all of us.”
Maybe he’s right.
He shows me what a good uppercut looks like, shows me what it feels like. The Ranger is good. And getting better. Sure he’s got some help, but I knew he would. I knew this going in. No point in complaining about it now.
What I should do instead is, I should break his face. His neck.
I should break his body and his spirit.
I plan my attack. I’ll break his nose first, make him bleed some more, make his eyes water.
I visualize this.
But then the mob grabs me again. And this will be way harder than I ever imagined.
My hands are pinned. My hands are trapped.
The Ranger grabs my head. Puts his knee through my face. I see stars. I see outer fucking space. I see the great continental Arks, floating on the edge of the solar system.
This is the end of the fight.
I think I am defeated.
And the Ranger is going in for the kill. Here he comes. Only one thing on his mind. I scramble to my knees and I’m convinced I’ve given my all. I’ve fought with honor, fought to my last breath, my dying breath.
And then something digs into my hip.
Something Sharp. Metallic.
It’s the shiv.
A makeshift knife.
Could’ve sworn it was taken from me. Could’ve sworn it.
The Ranger comes in close. I’d say he’s going to choke the life from me, watch my eyes bulge. He wants to hold me and feel my life drain away and feel death consume me. He wants to listen to the air in my lungs, to my life rattle as it leaves my body for good.
He’s not counting on me having a weapon. I wasn’t even counting on me having a weapon.
He stands over me…
And all I have to do is strike…
So that’s what I do. I slash his stomach and his guts fall half way out of his body. His eyes go wide and he doesn’t scream because he is in shock. And Before I drive the knife into the side of his neck, I ask him about Ruby. “Who killed her? Was it you? Was it one of your men?”
He doesn’t answer. Can’t answer. Can’t speak. So I drive the knife into the side of his neck.
I end him. I fucking destroy him.
And then I collapse…
And I can’t be certain but I think Rob is standing over me, watching over me. A few men try and rush him and grab him, but he beats them back and takes them down in quick succession. I hear bones break.
And then he kneels down, puts a hand on my chest. “Good work, Hector. Excellent work. You will be rewarded for this. You have my word.”
Chapter 15
I’m not sure where I am.
Somewhere in the Wasteland… below the Wasteland…
Somewhere on Earth.
I float through time and space. Through darkness.
I hear voices…
“We can’t risk contamination. They believe… wrongly… foolishly… that we can cure their disease. But we cannot. If one of the infected get in here and contaminate the rest of us, it will spell the end for every citizen of Wonderland. We will be denied access to the Arks. We will be denied Salvation. We will be sentenced to death.
“It’s a good story. It might even be true.”
“It is true. We must believe it to be true. Everyone must believe this. The Wastelanders are building an army. And together, united as one, they will fight us, they will attack us. They will lash out because they cannot accept their inevitable fate. And in order to defeat them once and for all, we must stand united, we must band together, every citizen of Wonderland. They say the Last Great Wars happened decades ago, but this, this right here, this will be the Last Great War of Earth. The very last.”
“It won’t be a war. It will be a massacre. A slaughter of sheep.”
“The Wastelanders are already dead. Dead and dying. They’re just too stupid to know it. You must ensure the rest of us remain safe. This is the only way. Kill the resistance. Kill the rebellion. Kill their will to fight. You will be rewarded with Salvation. With a life among the stars.”
I hear voices. They come from a dark place, from deep within my mind. I don’t know who the voices belong to. I have no earthly idea.
There is talk of risk and reward. There is talk of success.
A terrible burden.
A Final Exodus.
An Extermination Event.
“He was successful?”
“Absolutely.”
Who did he get?”
“All of them.”
“All of them?”
“Of course. There was never any doubt. We have eviscerated their pathetic rebellion.”
“So what now? What comes next?”
“You already know. The Final Exodus. The Extermination Event. It is terrible. But it is necessary.”
I’m in a tank on the edge of the Ruined City, heading for the Deep Canyon.
There’s been an explosion back on the southern edge of the city. A massive explosion. It’s ripped apart the solar panel farm. A major energy source for the Wastelanders.
The tank is heading in the opposite direction.
Someone asks, “Are we going back?”
“No. We’ve got a job to do.”
A terrible and necessary job. A terrible and heavy burden.
We’re somewhere on the edge of the Ruined City, heading for the plains of the Wasteland, heading for the Deep Canyon. Sitting in the tank with me, locked and loaded, focused and ready, is an elite squad of Enforcers.
The van guard of Wonderland.
The tip of the spear.
And there’s one son of a bitch who keeps eyeballing me.
“Who the fuck are you,” he says. “And what the fuck are you doing here?”
He has a scar down his face, over his left eye. He’s a commander of these men. A leader of warriors. And he doesn’t like me.
“He is part of the Lord’s personal guard,” Rob says.
“Let the man speak for himself.”
“I’m nobody,” I say. “I’m a soldier. Just like you.”
“Never seen you before. Never seen anyone like you before. I’d remember a big fucker like you.”
“I’ve been in prison. I escaped from the Raiders. Escaped in broad daylight.”
Escaping in broad daylight is a bold move. Harder to hide without the cover of darkness. It’s also a dangerous move, because running around in this heat is a good way to get yourself killed. But we had no choice. To live in the Wasteland, above ground, you need to sleep during the day, live at night.
You need to be a nocturnal creature.
It’s the only way.
So we made our escape in the middle of the day, while most of the Raiders slept, while the sun scorched the Earth. My good friend Rob, he’s sitting next to me, he’s still by my side and he says, “Fortune favors the bold, right? Well, we were bold. We were so fucking bold.”
Rob explains how we escaped from the Wasteland Raiders in broad daylight, under the glare of the Red Giant. He goes into the small and tiny details and then it all comes back to me as if by magic.
But the C
ommander still wants to hear the story from me. “For fuck’s sake, let the man speak. I want to hear it from him.”
He is suspicious for some reason. Don’t know why. Seems to me we’re all in this together. But I agree to tell him what happened because I can see it all in my mind… a memory… clear as day.
Conjured up and recalled as if by magic.
Rob is right, we were so fucking bold.
I see the prison…
The Wasteland Raiders…
The ropes…
The whips…
The canes…
I see men tortured to an inch of their life. I see men tortured to death. I see men locked up and chained up. I see their broken bones, their broken skin, and broken teeth. But the scariest thing I see… are the broken spirits.
These men are beaten men, broken men. They are defeated. I see that distant look in their eyes.
A hollow look.
Hollow men.
Nothing more shocking than a hollow human being… a shell… a husk.
And these hollow men, these broken men, they made up the majority of the prison population. Hundreds of them. They had been tortured daily, their spirits broken… shattered. They had watched fellow prisoners die. Watched as their flesh was sliced up, piece by piece. Watched as their limbs were taken, one by one.
“Why keep them alive? Why not kill them?”
“Because the Raiders are eating them. They eat them slowly. Bit by bit. Limb by limb. They keep them alive for as long as possible. Keep the meat fresh. They know they’re being eaten. They know. And yet they don’t fight back… can’t fight back.”
Because they are hollow.
Because they are broken.
Rob stands up in the cramped confines of the tank. He holds on to a hand rail for support as the tank traverses some bumpy terrain. “Now you truly know what we are up against. Raiders are insane. They are cannibals. They have lost their humanity. I know you have heard the rumors. But now you know for certain. This is why we are executing these orders. This is why the Final Extermination Event is necessary.”
A culling of the population is our mission. A terrible and heavy burden.
The Commander is still suspicious. He still wants to know the how of it.
How did it happen?