Haven Ward

by Elias Witherow

  Roland entered the armory, shuffling past more prisoners, “Hey guys, we need to get out of here. There’s a ton of Hazmats headed our way. I guess they heard we got in here. It’s not looking good.”

  I stopped rubbing my arm, “You seen King?”

  “No but I heard he’s in Haven Ward...somewhere.”

  Bones had picked up a shotgun and was resting it on his shoulder, “Where to next?”

  I forced myself to stand upright, “I think it’s time we go pay the Warden a visit.”

  Roland was almost knocked over as two Underdogs rushed by him, howling and duel welding pistols. He righted himself and asked, “Are you sure we should? Don’t you think we should find King first?”

  I shook my head, “As much as I’d love to, we don’t have time to wander around. We need to end this as fast as we can before serious defenses are taken up. The Hazmats are still running around with their pants down, but if we let this chaos continue, they’re eventually going to get control back.”

  Bones was shoving shells into his pockets, “What are you suggesting kid?”

  I drew a finger across my throat, “We gotta kill the Warden. If we do that, the Hazmats aren’t going to know what to do. They’ll be leaderless. Unorganized.”

  Roland was shaking his head, “There’s no way we’re going to be able to kill him! He probably has a ton of Hazmats following him wherever he goes! It’s going to be impossible to get through to him.”

  I held up a finger, “Ah but you’re forgetting something. Warden Martin is a very prideful man. The last time there was a riot here, which you weren’t here for, Martin went psycho. And he was alone, hacking down inmates like they were nothing.”

  Roland exhaled, “Ok. I want to find Nadia though, make sure she’s ok. She’s been good to me since I got here, plus she’s helped us so much.”

  I pointed a finger at him, “You go right ahead, but first things first. I think you should stay with us until we get closer to the Medical Ward.”

  “Agreed.”

  Bones was looking at me, a shadow of a smile on his lips. I looked at him, cocking an eyebrow, “What?”

  “You’re really something, Weston.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  He shrugged, looking tired, “It’s just I never thought we’d get this far. For years I’ve been holed up in this hell, accepting it because it’s what’s been dealt to me. But you. You haven’t stopped for a second since you got here. You always had something in motion. When King asked me to keep my eye on you, I was confused why an old friend would call in a favor over a child. But watching you, through everything you’ve been through, after everything that’s been done to you, you never slowed. I can see why King took an interest in you. You’re going places West. You’re going to be big. If I survive this, I want to see what kind of man you’re going to turn into.”

  I snorted, “Stop it, you’re embarresing yourself.” But inwardly I was touched by the old man’s words.

  Bones just shrugged, “We’ll see right? First things first.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Roland was peering out the armory door, “If you two are done, I think it’s time to move. I hear a lot of gunfire coming this way.”

  I tilted my head, “Shall we?”

  We left the armory, a group of Hazmats approaching from the far end of the hall, guns roaring. They weren’t making much progress, their advance slowed by a cluster of pissed off prisoners with a lot of fire power and a new will to fight.

  Together, keeping our heads low, we took the long way around, avoiding the growing intensity of the fire fight. As we trotted, guns in arms, the prison rocking from another explosion. King might be in the building, but his troops, his army, hadn’t stopped the assault.

  Rubble lined the hall, charred bodies and fallen ceilings slowed our progression. The air was filled with the sounds of battle, the echos of gunfire racing through the air like charged electricity. It smelled of hostility and anger, blood and perspiring hatred. It wasn’t about keeping order anymore for the Hazmats, it was about putting these men they hated so much back in their place. The collar had been removed, the beast set free. Free to maim and murder, cut and break anyone who resisted the Sanctions authority.

  We passed two of Dragon Dynasty’s crew, torturing an unlucky Hazmat. As I glanced at the scene, feet never slowing, I assumed that this was personal. I thought about putting a quick bullet in the poor bastard’s head, but on second thought, I decided to let the inmates have their sick fun. Roland was muttering something at my side, but I didn’t hear what. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I had been. Bones didn’t even seem to notice.

  Another explosion rocked the walls and we all went sprawling around a corner, grasping blindly for support. I fell to my stomach, hearing the chatter of more gunfire right in front of us. I quickly got to my knees and saw that we had stumbled across an intense fire fight, almost as bad as the one we just left.

  Thankfully, we had shown up on the prisoners side, a makeshift barrier set up at our end of the hall protecting the Underdogs who populated the scene. At least they were doing something. It seemed as if they had found weapons and were blindly firing at the Hazmats who had taken up a similar position at the far end of the passage.

  Roland was crawling towards cover, bullets pinging all around him, one of them nearly hitting him.

  “This is such bullshit,” he growled.

  I slammed myself between two Underdogs, securing some cover, nodding to Bones who was propped up next to me, “You good?”

  Instead of answering, Bones sat up and discharged two shells, the shotgun deafening as the shrapnel evacuated the barrel and raced to meet the Hazmats.

  “Who are you with?!” one of the Underdogs asked me, reloading his pistol.

  “Why the hell does it matter?! Shoot them!” I yelled, popping up and taking a quick snap shot. This wasn’t looking good. We weren’t getting through here anytime soon. The clock was ticking.

  “Fucking pricks!” Bones screamed, ducking down as a barrage of bullets whistled overhead.

  The Underdogs didn’t have good aim. There were a lot of them bunched behind the twisted metal shield they had created and out of sheer luck they were managing to kill some of the opposition. But the Hazmats were trained and many more of our boys were dropping dead. The Underdogs were just kids. Ruthless and brutal yes, but they didn’t have the experience of these tuned killers. We were going to lose unless something was done.

  Roland seemed to read my mind, “Guy’s were getting slaughtered here!” he yelled over the noise, “We need to find another way!”

  Bones spit on the floor, “Screw that, we’re getting close to the Warden’s elevator.” He raised his head over me and yelled at the Underdogs, “Hey! Does anyone have an explosive?!”

  One of the kids, tiny, probably not even eight, crawled over to us, dragged a massive metal tube behind him. Sweating, he looked up at us from his belly, “Ness said to watch this for him, but Ness is dead. You can have it, I can’t even lift the thing.”

  I took the tube from the kid and looked it over, keeping my head below the barrier, wincing as I watched an Underdog get his head shot off.

  “What is it?!” I yelled, barely hearing my own voice.

  Bones grabbed it from me, “Jesus almighty, where’d you get this thing kid?!”

  The boy shrugged from the ground, “I don’t know. Ness had it. But Ness it dead.”

  Roland looked at Bones, his face sweaty and black from all the gun smoke, “What is it Bones?”

  Bones cackled, “It’s an RPG! Goddamn it, it’s a RPG!”

  I fired off another shot, then ducked down again, “Well use it already!”

  Smiling like a mad man, Bones hefted the thing onto his shoulder, testing the weight. He ran one hand down the long barrel and slid his finger into the trigger. He glanced over his shoulder, “Make sure no one’s behind me! And get ready for a loud noise!” He raised his voice even loud
er, addressing the Underdogs, “Hey! Get ready to charge!”

  He then inhaled deeply, “Cover me guys, lay down some fire.”

  Simultaneously, Roland and I let our guns sing, emptying our clips as Bones lifted the massive weapon up and took careful aim. He fired.

  There was a loud hiss and a tremendous whooshing sound followed by a blinding explosion as fire billowed across our enemy and gore splattered the walls.

  Bones stood, raising his arms, “Now! Get them! Go go go!”

  Everyone roared, the inmates hopping from their safety and sprinting through the smoke, the continuous pop pop pop of fire arms piercing the momentary lapse from the Hazmats. As we breached the smoke screen, I saw that serious damage had been done. Bodies lay in pieces, masks had been knocked off, mouths dispelled blood and teeth as the Hazmats lay on the ground in a daze, vomiting and screaming.

  We were quick and we were ruthless. Boots connected with bodies and guns were emptied into the wounded. I watched as Roland stood above a pleading Hazmat and put a bullet through his skull, void of emotion.

  The execution was over in a matter of seconds and the Underdogs let out a roar of victory. But the Dogs were hungry for more blood. Like a pack of rabid animals, they didn’t slow, charging down the hall, fresh ammo and guns ready for use. One of the Underdogs put on a Hazmat mask and for some reason, it made me shiver.

  Bones was breathing heavily at my side, looking distastefully at the blood dripping from the barrel of his gun, fresh from the last shell.

  “I think it’s time for me to go find Nadia,” Roland announced, scrounging through the dead. “You guys can make it without me right? I’ll meet you at the Warden’s office once I find Nadia. That ok?”

  I was reloading my gun, “Do what you go to man. You know where to find us.”

  Tight lipped, Roland gave us a curt nod. I grabbed him by the shoulder before he left, “Hey.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t die.”

  He smiled at me, “No worries boss.” And then he was gone, following the Underdogs rampage through the halls.

  Bones looked at me, “Seems like it’s back to just me and you kid.”

  Now that the adrenaline had drained from me, the cut in my arm began to burn again. An annoying reminder that I was wounded. Even in death, Progg still caused me pain. The bastard. I bent down and ripped off a piece of cloth from a dead Hazmat and began to wrap it.

  Halfway through, Bones sighed, taking the cloth from me, “Here. Let me do it. You’re going to make it hurt even more the way you’re going.”

  I watched him wrap me up, his fingers trembling slightly. I looked into his face, “Are we really doing this? Am I dreaming down in Section 36 still?”

  Bones grunted, “This is real boy. And we’re about to live the final act. Now let’s go, we’re close to the elevator.”

  Feeling like my arm was still on fire, I followed him. We had to step over the dead, our boots splashing in the puddles of blood. Part of me, just a fraction of myself, thought that maybe Roland was right. Maybe we should wait for King. But as we continued down the hall, I realized that this was personal. I wanted to be the one to put down the Warden. I wanted to be the one to take his last breaths away. I wanted to kill him. After all his cruelty and sick mind games, I wanted to be the one to wretch his little world away from him. His kingdom of insanity.

  My heart was pounding in my chest, my fist gripping the pistol I held. So much had happened. From Bird and Mathis dying, seemingly ages ago, to my sister’s brutal death, to the walls of this mad house. I had slowly begun to realize just how messed up the system was. How unjust the Sanction’s rule was. And we, the prisoners, the sacs of blood, were the most tormented victims. No more though. No more. I was going to end this.

  As we walked, another explosion erupted causing us to stumble. This time though, it didn’t have the muted sound from the ones outside. This one had come from inside. Close. I heard screaming somewhere lost down the halls. Something big was happening. Seconds later, a roar ripped through the sounds of battle. The roar of a great number of men, invigorated and hungry for death.

  “I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” I muttered.

  “It’s not our problem right now, let’s just stay focus on the task at hand,” Bones said gravely.

  “Fine by me.”

  “There it is,” Bones announced, nodding his head at the elevator as we turned a corner. A single Hazmat was standing by it, leaning, his neon green goggles streaked with blood. He was injured and weaponless. Without slowing our trot, Bones raised his shotgun and shot him down.

  “You have Progg’s pass key?” He asked, glancing at the dead Hazmat as we passed him.

  I pulled out the card and swiped it through the scanner. A metallic click followed and the doors swung open. We stepped onto the platform and the ascent began. Next to me, Bones face grew hard and he looked at me, more serious then I’ve seen him before.

  “Listen to me Weston. Don’t give this animal a second to speak. No bullshit here, ok? As soon as those doors open, you go in guns blazing.”

  “Of course. I want him dead as much as you.”

  The metal creaked as gears pulled us upward. The air tasted stale. Sweat ran into my eyes and I wiped it away distractedly. I found that my adrenaline had returned, coursing through my veins like a pulsing heat.

  Suddenly we were at the top. Everything had boiled down to this moment. I raised my gun as the doors opened, every muscle in my body tense and perspiring.

  “Now!” Bones screamed as the crack in the doors grew. I open fired before I even could see the Warden. The gun jumped in my grip as we entered Martins domain. Bones got two shots off and I had spent three shells before we realized that we were shooting at a target that wasn’t there. The room was empty. No sun shone through the glass walls and ceiling today, but instead a heavy rain was assaulting the panes.

  “Son of a bitch!” Bones yelled, lowering his gun. His eyes were wide and his skin pale. He had put everything into this last act only to be rejected by bad luck.

  “What are we supposed to do?” I asked quietly, feeling the same sinking frustration.

  Suddenly, from across the room, a head poked out from behind the desk.

  Martin. His hair was slicked back, his glasses firmly in place on his nose, golden armor shining despite the lack of sunlight in the room.

  “I had a feeling you would do that,” Martin announced, head still bobbing above the desk.

  Roaring, Bones brought his shotgun up and blasted three quick holes in the desk, the wood splintering from the impact, chips and fragments scattering on the floor.

  Martin peeked out again, “Stop that you barbarian.” Suddenly a tiny pistol was staring at us in the face, Martin’s speed unnerving. Bones groped his chest before I even heard the shot, the bullet catching him near the collar bone. Blood dripped down his chest as he collapsed onto the floor.

  Martin was now standing, still pointing the gun at us. In his other hand he had a sword, long, curved and menacing. I recognized it as the one his dismembered Titan with.

  “Hello Weston,” the Warden said, smiling dangerously at me. The layered belts on his pants clinked as he strode closer to me. “I had a feeling it would be you who reached me first.”

  I was frozen. Paralyzed. The gun in my hand felt impossibly heavy, my heart was roaring in my chest, the sight of Bones bleeding glued me to the floor. Martin’s gaze was piercing, his sharp eyes cutting into my mind.

  “Such a brave little boy aren’t you?” he cooed, “Rising from the depths of Section 36 to come claim your vengeance. How fucking cliche. I thought more of you. Really I did. If your blood wasn’t such a gold mine, I think I could have eventually used you and that...” he snapped his fingers, thinking, “...that prestigious mind of yours.”

  Bones was rolling weakly around on the floor growling, “Shoot him Weston, shoot him!”

  But I couldn’t. I couldn’t find the strength to raise my arm an
d pull the trigger. It was as if the reality of the entire riot had just come crashing down around me in a matter of seconds. My head hurt and my vision stung.

  Martin was now standing directly in front of me. He reached forward and plucked the pistol from my limp hand, “I’ll take that. You really don’t want to shoot me do you?”

  I fumbled for words, “I-I’m going to...kill you...”

  Martin threw his head back and laughed long and hard, his voice harsh and bitter in my ears, “Oh I bet you are. You’ve always been such a hot head West. I’ve always loved that about you.” He knelt down to my height and smiled at me, his perfect white teeth glowing as bright as his armor, “Look at you,” he said very softly, “You’re trembling.” He reached out and traced a finger across my dirty cheek then withdrew it and sucked on it, closing his eyes, “You taste like violence.”

  At that second, hearing those words so close to me, the invisible bonds that held me, shattered. I felt an animalistic urge seize me, take me, overwhelm me. It was overpowering. I cocked my fist back, and screaming at the top of my lungs, I smashed my hardened knuckles into Martin’s face. His glasses exploded on contact and he fell back onto his ass, the unexpected blow catching him off guard. He dropped his weapons, catching himself with his hands so he didn’t end up on his back.

  He looked at me, eyes now sweltering with anger, dripping with blood from the glass fragments that were lodged around the sockets, “Big mistake!” He roared, scrambling to stand up. I didn’t let him. I leapt, my body crashing into his, both of us tumbling and me landing on top. He was a lot bigger then me, but if I could keep the upper hand, I had a chance.

  This new primal strength I had found, this beating heart that had been hidden, this base of pure rage I felt, stripped of all other emotion, drove me as I plowed my fists into the Warden’s face, still screaming. Blood flowed freely from my enemy’s face, his eyes shut tight against the barrage of punches. Then I felt a hand grab me by my throat and throw me off. I went skidding to the wall where I hopped to my feet, hands aching from the punishment I had dealt.