A Broken World

by Andrew Lauck

  “Must have.” I let the last word trail and continued to stare at the man, trying to judge whether I should kill him now and take the car or actually believe him. I know that I should have just gone with my first instinct after the incident at the fort, but I still wanted to believe in people.

  “Could we come with you?” Kat chimed in again. I sighed and glared over at her over my shoulder, but the man cleared his throat knowing how pissed I was becoming.

  “You can if you want. I might have to move some things to the trunk, but we’ll find room if your friend here wants to join us.” He looked expectantly to me, and something about the way he stared made me suspicious. Unfortunately, Kat was so hopeful that I couldn’t say no. I caved.

  “Fine, but one wrong move, and we’re out of the car and walking again. Understood?” She huffed again, but nodded emphatically. If she were any more excited as the man cleared space in the back seat, Kat would have jumping up and down.

  “Well, there you go mister.” He gestured a hand at the open door, and Kat slid in. I walked past him and got in, placing the Sig on my lap for easy access. The man got in the driver’s seat and closed the door. We were in this for the long haul now.

  “The name’s Bill, by the way,” he said in the rearview mirror, grinning. Kat smiled and looked out the window as he drove. I watched the road ahead, knowing that if he turned right at any point I’d have to shoot him. Kat had mentioned a game back in the fort, and I had a sinking feeling like it wasn’t over yet.

  Note to self: People with creepy laughs and questionable grins should be shot on sight.

  Chapter 10

  That same damn day…

  If I’m lucky enough for this to end up in the hands of a guy and you’re reading this, have you ever made a decision because of a girl that bites you in the ass later? Like, you know it’s a stupid thing to do, but you give in anyway? Yeah, tell me about it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t just let Kat get in the car with the total creeper alone. I was hoping that after the fort, she would be more cautious of people, but at the same time I envy her faith in humanity. After what I can only assume she’s been through, there’s no way I could believe in anything else if I were in her place.

  Bill drove in awkward silence for a while, glancing up every few minutes to check on us in the backseat. Kat seemed to enjoy the scenery out the window despite having just seen nothing but that for the last few hours. Based on her infrequent sighs of frustration, I think she was mad at me. Maybe I was even supposed to feel bad for earlier. To break that train of thought, I shifted my focus back to investigating this Bill guy.

  “So, Bill, how many people are at this supposed town we’re going to?” I scooted forward in the seat a little and kept the barrel of my Sig aimed directly at the back of his seat. I wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Well, let’s see...” He trailed off and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I guess a roundabout number would be maybe twenty. Lots of good folks in our town.” That last part seemed to be his attempt to ease my suspicions, but it did the exact opposite. It may sound cynical, but anytime someone works harder to gain approval it usually means they should not be trusted.

  I felt the car begin to slow, and Bill turned the wheel left as we started on a gravel road, the dirt being kicked up in a long cloud behind us. I leaned to the right enough to see out the front windshield, wanting to know if anyone would be waiting to make our trip difficult. Instead, after about ten minutes of driving, a small building became visible in the distance. As we drove, the building grew, as did the surrounding structures until we were close enough for me to make out the whole town.

  Rather than have a welcoming party waiting to kill us like I expected, the people were busy with the day’s labors. I had always wondered what modern society would do if everything went to shit, and my answer was right in front of me. Men sat atop buildings using primitive hammers to bang makeshift rock nails into leaky roofs, others plowed a small garden area where I assume they originally used seeds that they had brought with them, and directly ahead of us sat a bigger building adorned with various colorful banners where I figured the head honcho resided.

  I have to admit, this town had a pretty appealing first impression. Of course, that nagging feeling entered my mind that desperation blinds a man into accepting anything at face value. I told that feeling to shut the hell up, and let me enjoy my ignorant bliss at the time.

  Bill calmly parked next to a small, run-down building and stopped the car. The metal side-paneling was peeling from the main structure, and I could see sunlight breaking through numerous holes in the roof, but I guess a guy could call it home if he were so inclined. No offense to the man, but Bill didn’t exactly come off like the kind of guy to bitch about a crappy house if you know what I mean.

  “Well,” Bill said, opening my door for me and motioning for us to exit, “we’re here. It’s not much, but we’ve gotten along just fine so far.” He smiled again, vaguely reminding me of something not long ago, and led us away from the crap house toward the big building. As we passed the people, they waved, nodded, smiled, or any other greeting you might have seen in an older film where everyone was friendly. Bill made idle conversation with some, but most kept it to non-verbal altercations before going back to whatever task they were doing.

  The building ahead loomed over us like some sort of satanic church, bathing us in a cool shadow. The sounds of the townsfolk working echoed around us, but an eerie feeling seemed to make the sounds more distant. That nagging feeling returned, but Bill opened the door, and my feet carried me inside as curiosity got the better of me. I know this would be the point in every horror movie where the audience is screaming at the screen for the main character not to go inside the creepy-ass house, but what can I say? I’m only human. Besides, I think my senses may have become lax due to constant exposure to whackjobs.

  Bill led us up a set of stairs and down a short hallway, only passing three doors. From the outside, the area looked much larger, so I wondered how big each room was. At the end of the hallway stood a pair of intricately-carved double-doors, the wooden panel chiseled into a calming scene of a desert night sky. Pushing open the doors, I immediately saw a man standing off in the corner looking out over the town through arched windows. His head tilted slightly when Bill announced our presence, but he didn’t move to shake hands.

  “I see Bill has brought us another outsider. Hopefully,” the man said, turning to face me, “you’re not going to try and kill us like the last one.” His dark eyes flicked to Katherine, but I stepped in front of her. This town may have seemed friendly, but that didn’t mean I wanted anyone eyeing Kat. Especially this guy because the look in his eyes was hunger.

  “I’m sure as long as you do the same, we’ll get along just fine.” I’d like to think I have a lot of self-control, but there’s always been that alpha male in me, and this guy just seemed like he lived on a pedestal. The look he gave Kat didn’t help, so the room was silent as testosterone-based tension filled the air.

  “Of course,” the guy said after a moment, stepping toward me and extending his hand. “The name is Dawes, James Dawes.”

  “Eric. This is Katherine.” I shook his hand, tensing my grip slightly to let him know I wasn’t weak. In the world of men, the perfect handshake is everything. The edge of his mouth lifted in a grin, and he moved on to Kat, taking her hand and bending low to kiss it.

  “A pleasure.” His lips parted in a full smile as he stood again, dropping her hand gently and backing up. “Bill, I’m sure you’ll show them around. I have a lot of work to do still.” With that, he nodded toward us and gave a short and smug, “It truly was nice to meet you,” and sat down at the huge desk that dominated the space. Maybe it was his smug smile, or maybe it was the way he acted toward Kat, but I really wanted to punch that guy.

  Chapter 11

  1600 Hours

  Creepy Town, Illinois

  After we left Dawes’ manor, Bill took us around the town and showed us to a
make-shift saloon stocked with a limited selection of alcoholic drinks, but something was definitely better than nothing. He informed us that the saloon and the general store, which I assumed would be our next stop, worked on a barter system. If someone didn’t have anything worth trading, they worked for town credit. I thought that was a good idea; it sounded much more civilized than anyone I had encountered yet in the new world.

  Bill gave a slight nod to the bartender standing across the counter, but I caught it.

  “What can I get you, sir?” the bartender asked us, cleaning a glass with a clean rag attached to his waist.

  I glanced around the bar before settling on a straight beer. Bill smiled and walked off to sit at a table, so I remained at the bar with Kat and took a seat. The thing squeaked as I shifted, but it was a nice relief to be able to sit down.

  “What can I get for the lady?” The kid looked to Kat, smiling. I say kid because he looked to be in his mid-twenties.

  “The lady,” I said, emphasizing the last word, “will have water until she’s old enough to drink.” This elicited an irritated groan from my right, and Kat gave me a look.

  “Okay, Dad. I don’t think two years really makes a difference out here.” She waved her hand around generally, but I didn’t budge. The kid placed a glass of water on the table, and I slid it in front of her.

  “You can drink all you want, Kat,” I said calmly, keeping my tone even. “Once you’re 21.” I laughed at the angry look on her face and took a drink of my beer. I savored the taste and felt like a guy in one of those commercials I used to see on television, where the guy drinks the beer and then practically orgasms from how good it is.

  “So, what’s your name?” I said, becoming self-conscious about my expression and returning my attention to the bartender.

  “Matthew.” he said softly. I think he was scared of me or something by the way his chin went down, and he shifted nervously. I stifled a laugh.

  “Matthew? Good name. I have to say, one good thing that’s come out of all this is that the names I’m running into aren’t ridiculous ones. Honest to God, sometimes I wonder what goes through peoples’ brains when they name their children. It’s like, ‘Hey, I’ll name my kid after the first thing I see but screw up the spelling to be cool.’ That’s one thing I sure as hell won’t miss.” I realized I had been ranting, so I re-focused. “So, Matt, how long have you been here?”

  “Long enough, sir.” The kid had manners, something I respected from someone of his generation, but he also had deep sadness in his eyes. I guess everyone would have that look for a long time to come, assuming society ever made it back to the way things were. At this point, I was on the fence about that hope. I nodded slowly at his answer and looked over my shoulder at Bill.

  “So, did Bill find you on the road?” I asked, lifting my eyebrow as my suspicions came back. Something about the way Matt was acting told me Bill was a bad guy. The nervous shifting of the kid was not all because of me, and I didn’t have to know psychology to guess there was some form of pressure or abuse taking place behind the scenes.

  “Bill? Umm…no. He brought me here from another…” The kid cut off, and I sensed Bill giving him some look behind me. “He brought me here.”

  “Uh huh.” Suddenly, that nagging feeling didn’t seem so wrong. “Were you here when the town was put together?” I was milking this kid for information, because somehow he didn’t fit in. In a town of creepy people, Matthew the Bartender just didn’t stand out as the head freak.

  “I got here after the first couple buildings were finished. Bill’s been here from the beginning, though.” I could tell he was holding back something, but I couldn’t figure out what. Interrogating someone for information is like fishing without knowing which lure to use. You just have to hope you stick the right one on your line and nab a big one. I decided to take a different approach by changing topic.

  “So this Dawes guy, what’s his deal?” This merited a nervous look to Bill and the kid shifted. Ding ding, we’ve got a winner.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I assume he’s the leader of this town because he sits up there in the big, fancy house with the nice door and the window overlooking the town. Why does everyone treat him like he’s the king?”

  “Before all of this, Mr. Dawes was the head of a major corporation. He says he was a millionaire businessman or something, and he made his living planning and developing land complexes. He organized this town in the first place, and everyone just kind of looks up to him ever since.”

  “But what exactly does he do?” It was starting to sound like Dawes was a cult leader, which could prove dangerous. If these people all believed he was some sort of deity, any slight trigger could set them off. I hate cult mentalities.

  “He gives everyone instructions, and tells us how to survive.”

  “And what instructions did he give you, Matt?” I leaned forward and set my elbows on the table, looking him straight in the eyes. His eyes refused to lock onto mine until he gave up and looked down to a glass he was cleaning. I heard Bill stand, and I did the same, turning to meet him.

  “I think we’ve taken up enough of Matthew’s time for the day. How about I show you our store?” The last part was more stated than asked, but I accepted and moved toward the door. Before we left, I thanked Matt for the drink and walked out the open door. Things were starting to fall into place in my mind by then, and I can’t say I was liking the picture that was forming. Dawes seemed like your typical shady villain, Bill was the lead henchman that did all the important stuff, and Matthew was the innocent guy that worked under the fear of death or maybe worse with these people. Still, despite piecing things together like that, I felt I was missing something.

  The store happened to be right across the street—the big sign saying “Store” making me wonder how the hell I missed it before. I was probably too busy watching Bill for any signs of hostility. The store wasn’t fancy by any means, but inside were several wooden shelves with various goods and trinkets that one might pick up wandering through a city void of the living. A ding resounded above us, and I looked up to see a bell with a small wire leading down to the entrance’s floor. Kat rushed ahead and began sifting through each shelf, examining things like she had never seen them before in her life while I walked over to the cashier. He didn’t look dangerous, but then again neither did anyone else in this seemingly peaceful town.

  “How’s it going?” I asked, leaning one elbow on the counter and keeping an eye on Kat. She elicited a sound of excitement upon finding a pair of jeans her size before asking where a bathroom was. The cashier pointed to the far corner, and she rushed away to change.

  “Oh, nothing much. Same old, same old.” The man was elderly, clean-shaven, and dressed relatively well for being in the middle of nowhere. Lucky bastard. My stubble had grown into a full beard that itched like crazy these days, since I had yet to find anything decent for shaving besides my knife, and I wasn’t about to risk that. I made a mental note to see if they had a razor. It became apparent, though, that no one in the town was in the mood to chat, or maybe they were following orders from Dawes.

  “Do you guys get many visitors, or just the few that Bill picks up on the side of the road?” The cashier laughed nervously, looking to Bill who shared in the laugh. I kept my face blank, feeling like that kid that’s out of the loop and not liking it. I have a pretty damn good sense of humor, so if I wasn’t laughing something was off.

  “No, sir, we’ve only had a few come through here. Some stumble in; others get brought here.” About that time, Kat returned from the bathroom in her new jeans with a smile on her face and handed me my jeans back which I stuffed back in my duffel. Still, I hadn’t forgotten what the cashier had said since Kat reminded me that we had been brought here.

  “Brought? From where?” I leaned forward slightly to be more imposing. This time there was no nervous laugh, but a glance to Bill. The look in his eyes screamed, “Help!” Bill stepped forw
ard and placed a hand on my shoulder.

  “Maybe it’s time we lef—” Bill cut off when the front bell rang, and he removed his hand promptly. I turned outward to see who the newcomer was, but Bill wasn’t remotely curious, almost like he knew who they were already. The words, “It’s a trap!” shouted in my head as I saw that it was not just one, but two men walking into the store. I turned briefly to look at the cashier, but looked back to see the two men notice Kat as she rounded a corner. One guy looked to be around my age, while the other was a little younger. Of course, neither was out of shape, and both looked like they had seen the inside of a prison.

  The two watched Kat as she moved down a shelf, bending low to pick something up off the bottom shelf. The younger one leaned in to say something to the other, and they both laughed.

  “Something funny, guys?” I spoke loudly to get their attention. The two didn’t look like a couple of geniuses, and I had never been one to pick a fight, but something told me they weren’t laughing at the game of cards they played earlier. One thing my father had instilled in me from an early age was that you always defend a woman’s honor, and while I was willing to let a few things slip since civilization broke down, I sure as hell would hold on to the most important morals. The older one stepped toward me.

  “Yeah, but it’s none of your business mister.” I guess he was trying to look scary by tensing his chest muscles, but I almost laughed at the facial expression he made. It’s hard to be intimidating when you look like a puffer fish.

  “Just keep your eyes up, and we won’t have a problem.” Kat looked behind her at that and stood, giving them an angry look and moving to the other side of the shelf. Chippy, I designated the younger one, followed her around before stopping next to her.

  “Listen, ma’am, we didn’t mean anything by that back there. I was just admiring the view. I mean, your jeans do seem a little tight. If you need help out of them later, I’d be happy to give you a hand.” He grinned again, but I knew exactly what was coming. Kat stood up, hauling off and slapping him. Chippy twisted to the side, almost falling back on his ass.