Wasteland

by Ann Bakshis

  Lights ensconced in the ceiling begin to come to life as the sun sets. I walk over to where Corinna and Raven had been standing, as they have now moved off to the kitchen. The windows in the living room are floor to ceiling in height. I’ve never been so high up before, so I hesitantly move closer to the windows, standing a few inches from the edge, making sure I’m not leaning against the glass before I look out.

  Down below my feet is the rail system of the shuttle, bending slightly as it goes around the city. Several pedestrian bridges straddle the rails making it possible to move from one area to another without being electrocuted. The interchange is to the right of us, high-rises springing up across the street from the interchange as well as to the right and left of the Letchworth. The people roaming about the sidewalk look small and insignificant from this altitude.

  My gaze moves outward to the large stadium directly in front of us. The arena is long, slightly bow-like. Seats encompass the inner walls, and only a few are blocked off by large chain metal links. The base of the arena itself looks to be metallic, spanning almost the entire length of the stadium. Reflective barriers encircle the arena floor, rising only a few feet, not giving much protection to the spectators. My eyes move over the stadium onto the mass of water behind it.

  The waves lap slowly forward, breaking upon barriers I can’t see. The color of the sea is blue with a hint of pink from the sun setting below the edge of the horizon. I’ve never seen such a vast amount of water. Water beds are dry in the Wasteland…no lakes…no rivers. I grew up hearing stories of the Great Seas, but had never seen anything but sand and dust, and thought that was how it was all over. Apparently I was mistaken.

  “Beautiful isn’t it,” Artemis whispers over my shoulder.

  I’m startled by his sudden appearance. “Yes, it is,” I choke out.

  “The ocean goes on forever, reaching lands that no one talks about anymore; republics that have fallen silent or are too terrified to speak; terrestrial beings no longer of any consequence to Sirain.”

  I feel his breath on my neck, warm on my skin. My heart rate rises as I begin to feel flush.

  Why is he having such an effect on me?

  He moves closer to the window, smiling at the sight of the water, and nudges my arm, gesturing me to follow him as he guides me around the residence.

  The room Aidan and Wes disappeared into is a game room full of all sorts of electronic gadgets, and several large view screens. It’s the only room that has walls, other than the bedrooms and bathrooms. Artemis’ room is right next to the game room, with a private bath and walk-in closet. My room is next to his, with a bathroom I’ll be sharing with both Corinna and Raven, who are in the room on the other side.

  Artemis leads me into the dining room, where everyone has assembled for a large gourmet dinner prepared for us by Artemis’ private chef. The extravagant meal consists of a spinach salad mixed with fresh strawberries and a tangy dressing. For our main course we are served roast beef, mashed potatoes, rolls dipped in butter, and peas in garlic sauce. Matt and Aidan go back for seconds as I’m still working on my first helping. Artemis breaks out bottles of wine, giving everyone a healthy glass full. I only sip at mine as I don’t like the taste.

  The amount of food for such a small group surprises me. I feel guilty in eating this lavish food since those in the Wasteland are struggling to find their next meal. I place my fork down, unable to eat the rest.

  The fighters laugh at each other’s jokes, discuss strategies in regards to the opening battle sequence tomorrow, and make bets on who will come back a winner so they can advance to Round Two. Matt and Aidan have experience in this, and tell stories about their past battles. Matt retells more triumphs than Aidan as the latter has lost the last several times during the opening battle. Matt boasts about his many wins by showing off the tattoos he has on his right arm, each ring a different shape and color, indicating a win. Aidan tries to hide his left arm, but Matt grabs it before he can move, rolls up his sleeve, and shows the markings a loser receives.

  Aidan’s left arm is scarred, not by intricate scrolls like Matt’s, but by raised burn marks, probably made by some kind of electrical bracelet placed around the bicep. Aidan shoves Matt away, who hits the table, knocking Raven’s wine into her lap.

  “Hey!” she screams as the liquid soaks into her clothes.

  Matt shoves Aidan back and a fight breaks out. Artemis lets it go on for a bit before finally breaking it up, telling them to save it for the arena. Aidan shakes himself free of Artemis’ grasp and stomps away to his room.

  “Huh,” Matt huffs as he retakes his seat, “the old man needs to take a joke.”

  Of all the fighters, Aidan is the oldest. He looks to be in his early thirties, a little overweight, and slightly balding on top. He’s the man I saw Matt take out my first day at the ranch. I poke at the remainder of my food while the others return to their jokes, now mainly about Aidan.

  Our dishes are cleared after the wine has run out and we each slowly wander off to bed. I lock my door before changing. My closet is full of dresses, silk tops, dress pants, several cotton tank tops, and a brand new pair of running shoes sits on the floor. The drawers in my dresser house lace thongs with matching bras, white cotton pajamas, running shorts, and socks.

  Do all closets in Tyre look like this?

  This is too much. Why would you need so many items?

  I put on the pajamas, brush my teeth, and crawl into bed.

  I sleep very poorly, dreaming of Quin, his face plaguing my mind. He is yelling at me, blaming me for his death. I try and run from him, but am confronted by Terrance, who wears a mournful expression. He takes his old gun, aims it at my head, and pulls the trigger. I feel a projectile strike my forehead, shattering my skull.

  I dart up in bed, pain radiating outward from between my eyes. Slipping out of bed, I go to check the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for painkillers, but can’t find any, so I go looking for the next best thing…alcohol.

  I remember seeing a bar in the game room, so I quietly exit my room and make my way through the dark. One of the large screens attached to the far left wall is on. Wes is sound asleep on one of the red covered couches. The program he had been watching is still running, something about Tyre’s residents being more affluent than those of Acheron. I decide to leave it on as I walk over to the opposite wall and remove a bottle of Tequila from under the counter, along with a small glass to pour myself a shot, shaking my head at the irony of drinking Terrance’s favorite beverage while trying to erase his image from my mind.

  I drink it down and pour another before putting the bottle back under the counter, then pick up my glass while my eyes roam the room.

  A large color photo hangs up on the wall behind the bar. It displays a large aerial view of Tyre that includes the Boroughs in the northeast and southeast corners, both outside the natural border of the city. Each Borough has its own shuttle rail entering into the main station, which seems to be the only entrance into the city; however from what I can tell, the rails don’t actually enter into the station. The Boroughs are perfectly circular, surrounded by high fences with razor wire on top. Small brown buildings crammed together. There are no roads, either, only dirt paths that map the way around the buildings. In the center is a large circular concrete structure. There aren’t any identifiable markings on the building to determine what exactly it is.

  I move away from the Boroughs and exam the layout of the city itself.

  The plan of the city is significant in scale. Each building is a high-rise, the smallest twenty stories high. The city is in the shape of an egg, oval, but elongated. The shuttle system outlines the border, encompassing the entire city. It also highlights the shape of the inner rings of the city, with an interchange at every crossing. Sidewalks hide all vegetation, no grass, and no trees except for those which have been planted by the city maintenance. Walking seems to be the only other mode of transportation, as the roads that I have traveled out in the Wasteland do
n’t exist here. To the west of the city lies the Great Sea.

  I finish my drink, setting the glass on the counter before I leave. Wes is still asleep, snoring lightly. As I step into the hallway, I see the elevator rising to our floor, with Matt and Raven inside. They step out as I step back into the game room, not wanting to be seen.

  Raven is clinging tightly around Matt’s waist, their lips pressed against each other’s as they drip water onto the floor, towels wrapped around their bodies. Matt walks towards his room, Raven stumbles trying to catch up to his hurried pace. His door opens and closes loudly behind them. I quickly hurry back to my room, closing my door and crawling back into bed, but sleep doesn’t come for me.

  I finally decide to drag myself out of bed around five, dress in running shorts, a top, and my new shoes. The floor below us has a gym, indoor track, swimming pool, hot tub, and sauna. I first try to go down to the main floor, but it won’t go any lower than the gym without an access code.

  I go and run on the track, but it doesn’t feel as refreshing as running on solid ground.

  I do this for an hour then move to a slow jog for another half hour before returning upstairs. When I reach the top floor everyone is seated around the dining room table enjoying breakfast. I load my plate up with fresh fruit, eggs, buttered toast, and a large glass of orange juice.

  “I need everyone dressed and ready at the elevator by eight o’clock,” Artemis says, as he finishes his coffee. “The first battle is to begin promptly at ten.”

  “How many fighters will be competing this time?” Matt asks.

  “There are forty this year. I think the High Ruler might enter his own this time, so the battles will go until every fighter has competed. I checked you five in this morning and have your times. Meg, you’ll be sitting with me in the Possessor’s box.”

  “Why isn’t she fighting?” Matt demands, pointing his finger close to my face. “She’s good enough.”

  “Don’t worry, Matt. I have plans for Meg and they are of no concern to you.”

  I look at Artemis, trying to discern what he is planning, sensing Matt grinning and feeling a shudder come from Aidan. I lose my appetite, push my plate away, get up from the table, and go to my room. My head begins to pound and my right arm begins to tingle, but I’m not sure why.

  The urge to destroy something surges through me. Taking deep breaths calms me down.

  I find a new outfit hanging on the outside door of my closet. Red satin sleeveless blouse with a matching cover, charcoal colored twill pants, and red heels. I’m beginning to see the way Artemis thinks of me, and I’m not happy about it.

  Going into the bathroom, I strip down and climb into the shower, then remove the covering on my arm to wash it as well. I hear Corinna and Raven move about in their room. One of them comes into the bathroom, rummages through some drawers, and leaves again. I rinse, dry off, and wring out excess water from the covering before I re-strap it onto my arm. I wrap the towel around me before stepping out onto the cold stone floor, step over to the vanity to brush my hair, and tie it up. Corinna walks in and promptly unties it, forcing me to sit down on the toilet seat so she can do my hair.

  “Honey, you are in serious need of some style tips,” she says to me, as she works on getting out the knots I missed.

  I dismiss her comment, but allow her to do whatever she wants.

  She manages to smooth out all of the kinks, making my hair stick straight. She applies some gel, coating any strand that moves out of place. She next finds a small pair of nail scissors and slowly cuts a few dead ends from the hair that surrounds my face, feathering it ever so slightly.

  “You have great coloring, so no make-up for you,” she says, as she applies a little hairspray.

  I’m transformed before my own eyes, my hair perfectly framing my face. “How did you learn to do this?” I ask.

  “I used to be a private beautician to one of the Tyre Superiors, until he caught me in bed with his wife.” She smirks at the memory. “I had two options when I was detained. I could either go out and die in the Wasteland like the others, or become a fighter. I chose the latter, for obvious reasons.”

  “What others?”

  “Those who defy the laws of the cities, of course. Some are condemned to die in the Wasteland of starvation or dehydration, others get sold to Collectors to be trained as fighters, and there are some that are forced to live and work in the Boroughs with the Laics. That by far is the worst punishment ever.”

  “Who are the Laics?”

  “Honey, have you been living in a cave? The Laics are the working class, those who work for the cities. They do all the menial labor, crafting, anything the Tyreans or Acherons view as beneath their status. I wouldn’t be caught dead being stuck as a Laic, horrible people.”

  “What happened to the wife?”

  “She got a new lover last I heard, another Superior’s wife. I guess it’s safer to screw an equal than the hired help.” She laughs and leaves the room.

  I remain sitting, thinking about how Corinna referred to the Wasteland as a place to die. People flee to the Wasteland in order to survive, escape the hardships of the Boroughs. But it seems the cities are using it to threaten their own people into submission.

  I go back to my room and dress.

  Everyone is gathered at the elevator when I arrive, except for Raven. Apparently she is having issues with her footwear. The fighters are all dressed alike, in two-piece, long-sleeved outfits made of a black colored material that appears to be a blend of moleskin and an elastic textile that I don’t recognize, with gray metal threads interwoven into the cloth. Their boots go up to just below the knee and are made of leather also black in color. Raven joins us five minutes late and receives an earful from Artemis.

  We enter into the elevator and descend, passing the lobby, which is crowded with people all dressed in semi-formal attire. When we come to a stop at the garage level, our shuttle is waiting for us. Exiting the building, we go back the way we had come. At the interchange we make a left and veer north. I spot thousands of people gathering on the pavement outside, slowly making their way into the stadium. Our shuttle moves left and under the stadium where we stop and sit for some time. Ahead of us there are lines of shuttles also loaded with fighters waiting to exit.

  All fighters are wearing the same outfit, which I guess must be a regulation by the High Ruler. We exit the shuttle and are immediately directed to our right. Artemis takes my hand and pulls me away from the others, who get in the queue for processing. A woman in a white uniform goes down the line of fighters, asking them questions, looking down at her tablet to verify the information, and then digitally stamps a code on the inside of each wrist. Another woman walks just behind, scanning the code, which appears on a large electronic screen, showing the fighters’ name as well as the Possessor they belong to.

  Artemis yanks on my hand, pulling me in the opposite direction. We wait in our own line to board the elevator that will take us to the seats above. Artemis greets people as we wait, some he calls by name. He is more relaxed now that we are here, but he continues to hold onto my hand, perhaps afraid I’ll get lost in the crowd - or try running.

  We get into the elevator, practically squeezed against the glass of the outer walls from the number of people riding. The ride, thankfully, is short. I trip on the shoe of the woman in front of me as I exit and she turns and leers at me in disgust. Artemis smiles at her, which causes her to blush and she quickly darts away into the crowd. The elevator lands us outside of the stadium, not inside like I’d thought. People are clamoring to get inside, anxious to get the best seats as they are not assigned.

  Artemis lets go of my hand, only to bend his arm and insist I link my arm with his. I oblige and he escorts me down the sidewalk towards a mob of onlookers gathered by an entrance labeled Elysium. The closer we approach, the louder the mob becomes. They begin to shout Artemis’ name, bombarding him with questions about his fighters.

  “Artemis, which one of t
he five you have entered is your favorite?” One woman asks, recording device in hand, shoved close enough to us that I feel the electricity pulsing through its circuits.

  “Well, my dear, I dare say they are all my favorites.”

  This generates a laugh among the crowd, smiles splash across plastic faces.

  “But honestly I would have to say its number twenty. He’s been undefeated in every battle he has participated in. Although don’t count out my new-comer, number twenty-three. She has extreme potential.”

  I’m confused for a moment until I remember that the fighters are given numbers and not names when in battle. Matt is twenty and Raven is twenty-three. I look above us and spot an identical screen to the one in the lower level hanging over our heads, minus the fighters’ names. I spot Corinna as number thirty-seven, Aidan is fifteen and Wes is four.

  “Artemis, do you think fifteen will be able to win this time? He has been unable to get past the opening battle for the last four sessions. Do you think he will be able to overcome his shortfalls today?” a short man asks in the front row.

  “I certainly hope so. If not, perhaps a turn in the Boroughs will straighten him out.”

  This produces another round of laughter and fake smiles.

  “Artemis, who is your companion today? You normally come alone, so our readers will want to know who you’re escorting,” a large plump woman in the back hisses out.

  All eyes are on me, searching every inch for a possible flaw or defect.

  Artemis takes his arm and wraps it around my waist, pulling me in tightly against his hip.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen of the Tyre Press Corp, may I introduce you to Ms. Meg Farland, my lover.” He winks at the reporters, smiling at them like a true showman.