Wasteland

by Ann Bakshis

  “What do you help them with?”

  “Terrance and I go out on raids to collect supplies. It used to be Mercer, Rena’s brother, and Terrance. Mercer was taken several years ago.”

  “She told me a little about him, but I didn’t push the subject.”

  More time passes in silence and my eyes begin to grow heavy. I must have fallen asleep because when I wake, I’m out in the front room on the couch with a blanket wrapped tightly around me. Light is filtering in through the windows. I rub my eyes, sit up, and swing my legs onto the floor. I make a quick stop in the bathroom then head back into Terrance’s room. Rena is sitting in her chair playing cards with an awake, but groggy, Terrance.

  He grins upon seeing me and waves me over. His coloring is looking better, as is the gash in his leg. Rena deals the cards, including me in the hand. I ask her where Quin is, and she says she sent him to sleep in the barn about three hours ago. We play a couple of rounds, each of us winning a hand. Rena goes into the kitchen to make breakfast while I wander out to the barn to brush my teeth, since I haven’t done it in a while and can feel fur growing on them. Quin is not there from what I can tell, so I scrub until my gums are almost bleeding. When I return to the house, Quin is there in his old clothes, still damp from washing.

  Breakfast today consists of oatmeal and canned peaches. We all sit and eat around Terrance’s bed since he can’t join us in the kitchen. I’m not that hungry, but I force myself to eat. The time goes by slowly; no one speaks, it appears we have run out of conversation. Rena and Quin take the dishes into the kitchen while I change Terrance’s soaked bandages and give him more painkillers. He dozes off, so I leave the room and begin to go back down the hallway when I hear Rena and Quin arguing. I change direction and head to the kitchen.

  “You’re insane,” Rena practically screams at Quin. “You can’t go by yourself.”

  “We need supplies, Rena. The shipment tonight is the last one until next month, you know that.”

  “Then I’m going with you.”

  “Absolutely not,” Quin yells back, poking his finger at her. “You need to stay here. I can do this by myself.”

  “A raid is a two person job, so I’m coming,” Rena shouts, her face getting red with frustration.

  “I can go,” I chime in as I enter the room. They both turn and look at me. “If it takes two people I can go.”

  Rena seems to accept the idea, but Quin emphatically shakes his head.

  “Why not?” I ask him.

  “It’s too dangerous, and you have no idea what needs to be done to pull off a raid,” Quin says sternly, arms crossed over his chest.

  “You’re not leaving until later this afternoon, so you have plenty of time to go over the plan,” Rena says, as she turns her attention back to cleaning the dishes.

  Quin walks out of the kitchen in a huff, with me following.

  We spend the next five hours going over the plan. There are three steps to retrieving the supplies, and Rena is correct, this is a two-person job. First, we will have to find a way to get onto the city’s territory, subdue whatever security that may be guarding the supplies, and then make it back to the Wasteland without getting caught.

  When it’s closer to the time we need to leave, I change into my boots, a black tank top, and a pair of dirty black jeans while Quin gets the truck ready. I climb up into the loft, grab the satchel, which still contains the Beta gun, the night vision goggles, and then I throw in the last of the detonators and Quarum. I reach into the second hay bale for the Levin gun, but come up empty. I pull the bundles apart thinking it fell further in, but it’s gone.

  Quin is loading a crate of goods into the cab of his truck as I walk over to him, grab him by the arm, and spin him around.

  “Where the hell is it?” I roar at him.

  “Where’s what?” He shakes me loose and begins to head back to the house.

  “The Levin gun, Quin, what did you do with it?”

  “I didn’t do anything with it,” he protests. “I didn’t even know you had one.”

  As soon as he is inside I begin to rip apart the truck, but I can’t find the weapon. Rena walks out with a sack full of sandwiches and two thermoses of water. Quin soon joins us, stuffing a Regulator’s glass into his pocket. Rena hugs us each goodbye, tears in her eyes, and heads back into the house. I remember the tablet as we climb into the cab, but Quin says to leave it because if we get caught by any Collectors or Regulators from the cities, we will certainly be executed simply for having it.

  The building we are targeting tonight is the one farthest away, so the drive will take at least six hours. During our preparation, Quin said he hadn’t been to the area for over a year. He’s not a fan of this particular storage hangar, but the other ones have been raided too many times this year, so the odds of extra security on the others are extremely high. This facility is located on the outskirts of Tyre; one of the Boroughs lies a few miles on the other side of a large rock formation that lines its borders. The hangar is at the base of the formation, where security is not as tight.

  The delivery is due at the storage hangar around midnight, so we will have about two hours to get set up. We travel in silence, munching on sandwiches and drinking our water sparingly. I ask Quin if he wants me to drive, but he waves me off so I decide to curl up in my seat and take a nap so I can be well rested for our incursion.

  Some time later, Quin shakes me, indicating we have arrived at our destination. I open my eyes, which need to adjust to the darkness that now surrounds us, and scan the area, but can’t locate any structures, even with the headlights of the truck on.

  “Where is it?” I ask, as he shuts off the engine.

  “We have to walk about a mile that way.” Quin points directly in front of us.

  We exit the truck, Quin grabbing the crate in the back. I take the sack of sandwiches and thermoses. In the crate are several flashlights, a role of adhesive tape, rope, and various pieces of scrap metal. Quin hands me a flashlight, takes the rope, loops it between the handles on the crate, and slings it on his back. We turn our torches on and head into the dark desert.

  I can hear the hum of the electrical fence before I see it.

  We stop and crouch right next to it. I dig in my satchel and pull out the night vision goggles. Quin doesn’t seem surprised that I have them, which indicates that he has gone through my belongings, and reinforces my belief he knows where the Levin gun is, but I don’t have time to confront him at the moment. I turn the goggles to full power to see past the fence and the rail supports for the shuttle.

  The building is about fifty yards from a lone road that separates the building from the fence. The structure has two large warehouses at each end with a small delivery bay in the center. The hanger appears to be fully automated as I don’t see any guards. There are cameras at each corner as well as spotlights that are dimly lit at present. Our target, however, is not the building, but the delivery truck. We are to take the truck before it gets into range of the security cameras and spotlights.

  I hand Quin the goggles so he can take a look while I try to figure out how to get us over or through the fence.

  The razor wire at the top will prevent us from climbing even if we are able to knock out the electricity, so the only option left is to cut through the chain metal. Quin hands me back the goggles and we proceed to go south along the fence until the hangar is behind us. The cameras and lights for the building will be triggered as soon as the truck hits the sensor pad in the road about a half mile from the building. We move another mile south of that to give us plenty of time to stop the truck before any alarms sound. Finding our spot, we settle in. Quin digs into the sack of sandwiches while I examine the fence a little more.

  I remember Devlan telling me years ago that these fences travel the entire length of the cities’ boundaries, and yet are able to carry so much electricity that it can light the entire city for days. The problem with this much power being generated is that it gets weaker the furt
her away it is from its source. To keep the fence electrified along a massive span you need relay boxes to help carry the electricity across the great distance. If I can find the closest relay then I can knock out the power to this part of the fence. I tell Quin my plan, but he doesn’t seem interested.

  “How did you get in last time?” I ask, as I rummage through the crate Quin has set next to him.

  “We had someone from the Farm Borough helping us. He and several others dug a tunnel under the fence.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He escaped to the Wasteland with us only to be caught and executed several months later.”

  “How are you planning to get in this time?”

  “I’ll think of something as soon as I’m done eating.”

  I manage to come up with a pair of wire cutters, so I leave the satchel behind, take out the goggles, remove the Beta gun, and begin my walk. My timing must be precise as I’m sure the power will be turned back on quickly after it’s lost. Once I have the power down, my plan is to cut an opening wide enough to drive the truck through. Quin will need to drive the delivery truck back to the Refuge while I drive his vehicle.

  I find what I’m looking for ten minutes later.

  The relay is at the top of the fence, coiled amongst the razor wire. The box is approximately the size of a book, five inches by eight inches. I put the goggles on so I can see better, drop the wire cutters at my feet, aim the gun at the box, and fire. My hit is dead on and sparks shower down on me. I no longer hear the humming from the fence, so I begin cutting the large opening, hurrying so as not to get electrocuted when the power comes back on. If they’re able to repair it, the electricity will be weak until they can replace the box, but will still cause massive injury.

  I clip the last rung in the fence and yank the portion that is loose from the rest of the barrier just as the power kicks back on. Picking up my items, I walk back over to Quin, who is still sitting and eating.

  “What was that?” he asks, as I drop the wire cutters back into the crate. “The power was off and then came back on, nearly shocking me.” I notice the small hole he had managed to create in the links. “It would have been bigger, but someone ran off with my wire cutters,” he says angrily.

  “Relax and grab the crate,” I say, as I pick up my satchel and thermoses.

  We walk down to the hole in the fence then carefully make our way through it. Our next obstacle is overtaking the truck. I remove the detonators from the satchel and walk about a half mile down the road. The detonators can be set to be used as an explosive or signal. I flip the switch on the bottom of the device to indicate signal and place it in the center of the road, then walk back down to the opening in the fence where Quin is hunched behind one of the support columns for the shuttle.

  “When the light begins to blink on the detonator,” I state, as I point to where I’d just been, “we’ll know the truck has passed that location. Between here and there it will only take them about five minutes.” I point in the direction of the hangar, far off in the distance. “We should move farther down, closer to the hangar.”

  “All right, but we will need some kind of sign to indicate when the vehicle is approaching since we will be sitting on opposite sides of the road.”

  I think about it as we make our way down the road, stopping two hundred yards from the hangar, giving us an extra hundred yards before the movement of the truck activates the security cameras and lights. Digging in my satchel, I come up with the metal container holding the last of the Quarum and hand it to Quin. He doesn’t ask, he just puts it in the front pocket of his pants. That’s when I notice the Levin gun sticking out of the side of his waistband.

  “Give me that,” I scream at him, lunging for the weapon.

  He grabs me by the shoulders, slamming me to the ground.

  “No,” he says angrily, face red with heat.

  My head hurts from the impact with the ground, so I can’t completely focus on his expression.

  “You’ve been holding out on me. You’ve had this with you the whole time and never said anything. This is the gun that damaged your arm, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I whimper.

  His grip is so strong on my arms I can’t feel my hands.

  “Shoot me with it.”

  “What? Are you crazy?”

  “Don’t be stupid, I’m just like you, you already know that! I’m built like you except for the Quantum Stream. This is the weapon that gave it to you, that brought your body to life. If it worked on you it can work on me.”

  I stare at him, dumfounded at his request.

  “You’re mad,” I mumble, unable to speak clearly due to the trembling in my body. “You don’t mean it…you don’t know what you are asking for.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I won’t…I won’t do it.”

  “Fine,” he says, removing the gun from his waistband and aiming it at my head. “If all it takes is a simple pull of the trigger then that’s what I’ll do.”

  I try and move, but he has me pinned. My heart begins to pound even harder as I feel the energy coursing through my body. My right arm begins to tingle to the point of bursting open.

  I hear the noise before seeing it.

  The truck is barreling down on us as we lie in the middle of the road. Quin notices it as well, and gets off of me, muttering a few curses, still holding onto my Levin gun. I back up across the other side of the road, removing the Beta gun from my satchel. The idea is to blow out one of the tires to make the vehicle stop. When they get out of the cab to investigate, we jump. Rena insisted on placing a spare tire in the back of Quin’s vehicle, so we can replace the one we damage on the truck, and make it drivable back to the Refuge.

  I aim the Beta gun at the left rear tire, fire, and it goes instantly flat.

  The truck slows to a stop, but only the driver gets out. I creep up to the vehicle, slinking low near the ground. When I’m close to the driver, I hear a struggle behind me. The driver turns as he hears the noise as well and I move, taking him down easily, binding his hands, feet, and mouth with adhesive.

  I walk around the back to Quin’s side, gun in hand. The security guard is halfway out of the vehicle. Quin pulling on the man’s uniform as they fight over the Levin gun. I fire a warning shot, blasting out the passenger window. The security guard gives up the fight, letting me bind his legs and hands. Quin jumps into the driver’s side, looking for the ignition switch. The guard begins to laugh as the vehicle apparently doesn’t have one.

  “How do you start the truck?” I ask, as I take the Beta gun and press it into his forehead.

  “Go to hell,” he says, spitting at me.

  I stomp on his face with my shoe, breaking his nose, then tape shut his mouth, and walk over to where I left the driver. He cowers at my approach, curling into a tighter ball.

  I’m kind of enjoying the viciousness that has come upon me.

  “If you are nice to me I’ll be nice to you, okay?”

  He nods his head in compliance.

  I remove the tape as carefully as possible, trying not to rip off the sparse black mustache that he’s attempting to grow on his upper lip. “How do we turn on the vehicle?”

  “I’ll only tell you if you take me with you.”

  Somewhat taken aback by his response, as I was expecting a protest like that from the guard, I agree to the deal without consulting Quin. I use my knife to cut off the tape that I’d secured him with, and then tell Quin to scoot over. He stares at me, seeing the driver behind me.

  “Are you fucking crazy?” he screams at me.

  “He can start the truck and he wants to enter into the Wasteland, so what’s the big deal?” I protest.

  “What makes you think he isn’t going to drive us into some kind of trap? You’ve gotten soft since Devlan died. If I had my way I’d leave your ass here, but seeing as Rena would kill me if I didn’t come back with you I guess I don’t have a choice.”

  After a brief sta
ndoff, Quin finally moves over. I climb in the middle and the driver gets behind the wheel.

  “Since you blew out the back tire it’ll be slow going, but I’m assuming you have a spare somewhere, otherwise why would you have blown it to begin with, correct?” the man asks, as he punches a code into the keypad on the steering wheel.

  I nod as a screen rises up from the dashboard, requesting facial and voice recognition. He shifts his head directly in front of the screen and gives a password. The small camera built into the monitor scans his face and his voice is recorded.

  The truck starts and I motion where to drive. He backs the truck up first so we don’t run over the security guard, which disappoints Quin. As we make the turn and begin to drive, the truck wobbles as it slowly rolls forward on three good tires. We make it through the opening in the fence, but just by mere inches. It takes about a half hour to reach Quin’s truck as the driver doesn’t want to damage the other three tires.

  The changing of the tire on the delivery truck goes faster than expected since we now have someone helping us out. Quin decides to ride with the driver so he can direct him where to go, while I follow in the other vehicle. The only danger we now face is the drive back to the Refuge, since we have to ride with the lights on. This will make us visible to any Collectors who might be out roaming at this time of night.

  We barrel through the landscape, with no more than a foot gap between the two trucks. I feel my eyes getting heavy with tiredness, but we have only been driving for two hours, and there are four more to go. My head feels groggy and my body starts to ache as my eyes begin to close, but I’m jarred awake as something impacts the truck.

  My eyes fly open, anticipating seeing the delivery truck against the hood, but it’s not there. The vehicle is hit again, but this time it’s behind me. Looking in the rearview mirror, I see only blackness so I keep driving thinking I must have hit a rock.