Wasteland

by Ann Bakshis

  I take a deep breath and open my eyes.

  Quin’s face looks down onto mine. His hair is slightly longer now, his eyes older. The sun is shining brightly behind him. Light cascades down between the leaves from branches that hang over us. I sit up, feeling grass and dried leaves under my palms. Terrance squats down next to Quin.

  “I thought you were dead,” I squeak out, as I stare at him.

  “I almost was,” he says, as he helps me lean myself against a trunk of a tree. “I managed to grab the syringe you had pulled out for me and inject myself before passing out. When I was well enough to walk, I made it back to the Refuge and told Terrance and Rena what had happened. It took some time to track you, and then Terrance wound up getting collected. I followed the people who took him and have been camping here on the outskirts of Tyre trying to figure out a way to get in.”

  I look around, but I don’t see the city.

  “Where are we?” I ask, as Quin hands me a roll to eat.

  “We are about a day’s hike north of Tyre. When the group of Laics came out of the door at the base of the stadium, I managed to cut away the wire fence surrounding the perimeter to allow them to escape. I waited to see if Terrance would come out, and he eventually did…carrying you.”

  “They were Laics? I thought they were rejects the Collectors couldn’t sell.”

  “Not all of them. Terrance and one of the women were the only ones from the Collectors, the rest were Laics from the south Boroughs.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “They’ve entered the Wasteland.” Quin hands me some water to help me wash down the roll. “We should be heading back there as well.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean ‘no’?”

  “We need to get to Acheron. I believe another Antaean is there.”

  “Hold on, wait. Let’s think about this.” Quin sits down next to me. “We can’t just hop on a shuttle and waltz into Acheron. From what the Laics told me while they were fleeing was that your demonstration was broadcast all over Sirain, including Acheron. They’re going to know what you look like, and since they will obviously know you escaped from Tyre, they’re going to be looking for you.”

  “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.” I stand up, brush myself free of leaves, and look around for my Levin gun, noticing it’s sticking out of Quin’s rucksack. I reach inside and retrieve it. “Are you coming with me or not?”

  Quin glances up at me with an apprehensive look. Terrance quickly springs to his feet and is at my side in seconds.

  “No, Terrance,” Quin begins, “it’ll be too dangerous for you in your weakened condition. Go back to the Refuge.”

  Terrance looks pained, but he knows Quin is right. He will only slow us down.

  I give him a hug, while Quin stuffs his pockets with goods for the trip home. He turns around and sets off down the hill, only turning back once.

  “You’re going to need a change of clothes,” Quin says to me as soon as we’ve lost sight of Terrance.

  We clean up Quin’s make-shift campsite, leaving anything we don’t really need, like the tent he constructed out of tree branches and vinyl sheets. I notice my motorbike buried under two feet of fallen leaves and unearth it. The wheels are flat, there’s no fuel, and the engine is fried. I rebury it, making sure to say goodbye to my old friend. We have enough food to last us three days if we ration it out. I think about heading back towards Tyre, but Quin nixes the idea immediately. He says there is an Oasis about a two days hike to the east of us.

  We begin our journey in the late afternoon.

  The seasons are beginning to change so we have fewer daylight hours to work with. Rain pours down on us the closer we get to the mountains. Night falls fast, so we take shelter in a cave just before the mountain’s height begins to dramatically rise. Quin collects firewood while I make bedrolls out of whatever I can find. The wood he brings back is hard to light as it’s wet, but it dries enough to build a fire. We heat a can of baked beans with the Tyre logo on them, passing the one can between the two of us. I decide not to tell him about the extravagant meals I’ve been eating, though I have to admit, the beans are a sad substitute.

  “I have something for you,” Quin says, as he picks up his rucksack from the cave floor and extracts the tablet I left in the barn.

  “What made you think to bring this?”

  “It seemed important to you.”

  I take it from him, lean against the cave wall, and place my palm onto the screen, hoping there is still power. Quin sits next to me, resting partially on the wall, and partially on me. After the usual interval, the tablet comes to life.

  “I went underground, as did many of the other survivors,” Devlan’s voice begins. No images this time. “We were fearful of the cities because we thought they might hold us responsible for the deaths. The children were sent off with protectors - those we felt would make sure the safety of the children was their main priority.

  “You were sent off with one of the nurses, placed into her care until you were older. The High Rulers went scouting the country, looking for the Nuceiran troops that carried out the massacre. Their leader denied having any part in the destruction, but said he was glad it occurred. He stated that he wished he had thought of it himself, even though that would have meant the death of some of his own people, who had stayed to work on general research after the initial project was scrapped and the Antaeans created.”

  I feel Quin nuzzle closer to me, trying to help control the shaking from my fear.

  “Six years after the event, I learned that you had been located. I came out of seclusion to go and retrieve you, to hide you again. I’m sorry I wasn’t successful.”

  The tablet shuts down.

  I hand the device back to Quin as tears stream down my cheeks. He stuffs the tablet into his rucksack and pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me. We stay clutched together for quite a while before crawling under our bedrolls to try to get some sleep.

  We start late the next morning as the sun begins to crest over the peaks. It takes us all day to maneuver over the jagged face. We locate a pass about two hundred feet up. Chunks of black rock line the wide trail.

  “Looks like it was a road once,” Quin says, as he examines the odd stones.

  We continue down the path, keeping as close to the rock face as possible finally emerging several hours later where we begin our descent. As the sun fades, we huddle under an outcropping of trees close to the base of the mountain range. Rain begins to pour, and Quin wraps his arms around me to help warm me up. I nuzzle my head into his shoulder and fall asleep.

  We reach the wire fencing surrounding Oasis Two in the late afternoon. Quin has me wait inside an abandoned home just a few yards from the fence. He takes my Levin gun and disappears. I wander around the house rummaging in cabinets looking for anything useful. From the looks of everything, this home was raided years ago. After I pilfer a few remaining supplies, I plop down on a sofa, curling myself into a ball.

  I must have dozed off as I hear Quin whispering for me to wake up. The sun has just about set, so there is little light to see with, but I can make out his features. He hands me a pair of white linen pants and a long sleeved, thick black sweater. He has also snagged an outfit for himself. I look up at him and grumble at the selection of clothes he picked for me. I hate sweaters, but the long sleeve was a smart choice as it will hide my Quantum Stream.

  I go into one of the bedrooms and change while he dresses in the front room. My socks are dirty, but he didn’t provide me with a clean pair so I will have to put those back on as well as my boots. I decide to leave the top portion of the fighter’s uniform on, as well as the glove Vladim had given me.

  As I exit the bedroom, I notice Quin’s back for the first time.

  The Levin gun left a large hole between his shoulder blades and down to his lower back which glows a soft blue. Small lines of clinging flesh make a unique pattern, breaking up the Quantum Stream slightly. He puts
on three layers in order to cover up the brightness. I walk across the hallway and go into the bathroom, closing the door silently behind me. Taking my sleeve, I try to rub off the dirt that is caked onto the mirror hanging over the cracked sink. I’m not sure it’s worth the effort; the reflection is still me, only tired and worn, the effect being made dramatically worse by the fading light.

  I begin to rethink my idea of going to Acheron.

  Perhaps we should just rejoin those in the Wasteland. Go back to the Refuge and help Rena with supplies, and forget the other Antaeans. I think of Devlan and his sacrifice to keep me out of the hands of the cities. Flashes of my past dance behind my eyes. The Dormitories burning as I was carried away into the forest that surrounded the complex. People screaming and dying as the place crumbled. The four of us children clinging desperately to our rescuers as the others perished before our eyes; Devlan scooping me up and then handing me over to a woman. A woman I would call my mother for six years before he reclaimed me.

  The knock at the bathroom door brings me back to reality.

  I open it to find Quin is standing there, grinning at me. He looks more tired and worn out than I do. He gestures that it’s time to leave, so I follow him into the living room. The light that had been filtering in through the holes in the roof is now completely gone; there is only darkness outside.

  “What about my hair and face?” I ask him, as he picks up his rucksack.

  “It’ll be dark in the oasis. The shuttles don’t run at night, so we will be able to sneak on board one as it sits parked. There will only be a couple of Regulators around, so we will need to keep an eye out for them.”

  I’m not thrilled with the idea, but what other option do we have?

  Before we leave, however, I remove the Levin gun from the rucksack and disable the safety features. If we’re to be caught, I’m not going down without a fight. I stick the gun into my waistband, covering the bulge with my sweater then leave the house and walk through the hole he made in the fence earlier.

  We enter the oasis through an access door at the bottom of one of the support columns holding up the structure. After climbing, he pushes back a grate above us and we enter a janitor’s closet. Quin cracks the door open just enough for him to see out into the hallway. He nods as he opens the door wider. We quickly exit and try to find the correct corridor that houses the shuttle that will take us to Acheron.

  The lights are very dim down every passageway, including the main passenger loading platform. There are two shuttles sitting in the bay, one on either side of us, with a Regulator patrolling them. The platform is a wide-open space, ceiling darkened to give the effect of the current conditions outside. There is no place for us to hide, nothing to shield us from detection. I look carefully around the corners just to make sure there isn’t another door or hallway we can use to get in a better position. The shuttle on our right is slated to leave for Acheron in one hour, according to the large monitor dangling in the center of the room.

  “Okay, now what?” I whisper to Quin, as we slink back down the hallway.

  “Let’s try the cargo platform. It should be one level below us.”

  “How do we get to it?”

  Quin goes past the closet, down a darker hallway, passing a lounge with a monolith-style fountain in the center, and comes to a stop just outside the edge of another concourse. He steps forward, gesturing for me to stay hidden against the wall, and then disappears around the corner. I can hear his footsteps echo faintly, then stop as he opens a door.

  I begin to feel nervous, wondering if any Regulators might be coming down the corridor.

  Quin returns several minutes later.

  We scamper across the concourse, dodging between deserted shops and eateries that fill the space between the shuttles. The door Quin directs us to is situated between an upscale clothing store and a nondescript jewelry retailer. The silver knob turns easily in is hand, allowing the door to swing open silently. We amble into a narrow hallway that is lit from hidden lights below. I turn and see a set of stairs. Quin begins to head down after he has closed the door. I hesitate, standing still and listening.

  If no one is supposed to be in the oasis at this hour besides Regulators I wonder where the light below me is coming from.

  Muffled voices radiate beneath my feet. I hear wood scraping along concrete, so I take slow, gentle steps as I descend. Quin is standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting as someone walks over to us.

  I don’t recognize the uniform the small man is wearing: gray coveralls, black belt cinched at his waist. His thick black hair looks slick and greasy. After removing his gloves he shakes Quin’s hand.

  “Come with me,” he says. “The shuttle is about to leave, so we don’t have much time.”

  We run across the platform towards an open door underneath the shuttle.

  “You can hide amongst the cargo containers,” he says, as we reach the door. “We’ve almost finished loading the crates that are to go to Acheron, so you will have supplies for the twelve hour journey. No one will be on board on the top level since the passenger compartments don’t open until seven. They never have citizens ride on the same shuttles as the cargo, so you should be fine until you reach the inspection post just on the outskirts of the Boroughs of Acheron. There, Regulators will come on board to inspect the cargo to make sure it’s genuine, but they shouldn’t be on long, so you will need to find a good hiding place until then. The stop should last no more than ten minutes and then it will leave for the city itself. Once you get to the station, make sure the head handler sees you. I’ve sent him a message that you’re coming.”

  I climb through the door, squeezing between crates to make my way towards the front of the shuttle. Quin joins me and we are soon in darkness as the outer door closes and the shuttle begins to move.

  Chapter 14

  There aren’t any windows in the cargo area, so it’s going to be hard to tell what time of day it is or even where we are in proximity to Acheron. Quin rummages in his rucksack while I decide to continue to move deeper into the shuttle.

  A light flashes from behind me as Quin turns on the torch he must’ve been searching for. I look to my right, notice a ladder going upwards, and I begin to climb as Quin examines the crates to see what they contain.

  The ladder brings me up to the passenger level. The seats lie in rows with an aisle down the center. The windows display tall grasses that bend from a non-existent breeze. I make my way down the aisle, moving smoothly between the partitions that divide the shuttle into individual compartments. Several have their own private rooms and full baths. I then pass an empty dining area and kitchen that sit behind the shuttle’s front compartment.

  I press my ear against the door, listening for any noises, but it’s silent. I slide the door open, revealing two empty pilot chairs, an active instrument panel, and a large window displaying the true nature of the land we are speeding through.

  Scorched earth is visible under bright green vines and grasses. Fragments of stoic metal structures rust and bend. Trees are trying to push their way up through ancient roads of concrete that are deteriorating back to rock and gravel. Sizeable regions are too damaged to ever recover. I sit down in one of the chairs and watch the chaos flash past us. The horrors that led to such destruction seem unbelievable to me.

  What type of events have the High Rulers been hiding from their people?

  “Shocking isn’t it?” Quin says from behind me.

  “What happened here?”

  “No one knows for sure,” he says as he sits in the other chair. “Any records of the event would have been altered by the High Rulers and those who survived are long dead. We are only left with decaying reminders of those who once were. This is the true Wasteland.”

  We sit and watch the land as it goes by. I’m beginning to understand why they use imaginary landscapes, who would want to see this day after day? The shuttle approaches a long range of mountains capped with snow. We enter a tunnel and are thrown
into darkness. This lasts only moments as we exit out the other side into a landscape similarly scarred and desolate. I’ve had my fill and leave, Quin following behind me.

  We reenter the cargo hold and break open one of the crates holding crackers and nuts. It’s not much, but it’s easy to pilfer. We eat only enough to sustain us until we reach Acheron. Quin and I find nooks in which to conceal ourselves. He falls right to sleep, but I can’t get comfortable, as the air is too stale and warm. I crawl out from my space and retreat to the passenger level and into one of the private bedrooms, where I plop myself down on the firm mattress and drift into oblivion.

  Bodies lay scattered across the once pure granite floors, some burned beyond recognition, others in pools of their own blood. The walls begin to crack from the heat, but the woman keeps running.

  Cool, fresh air hits our faces as we reach the outside. The building we exit is at the edge of a large pool that sits in the center of the complex. We move farther away from the building as the structure begins to collapse. The night sky is alight with fire, ash flakes float down from a cloudless sky.

  The forward motion has stopped. My eyes fly open as I hear voices moving down the aisle towards my direction. I can’t make out what they are saying, but the tone being used suggests they are Regulators.

  The handler at Oasis Two said they would be boarding, but only to check the cargo, so why would they be up here on the passenger level?

  The voices are just outside the door, moving towards the front of the shuttle. I let out my breath slowly, not realizing I’d been holding it. I wait for several minutes until I hear their footsteps retreating, then get up quietly and move over to the door, pressing my ear against it.

  “All set?”

  “Set.”

  They retreat further down the shuttle.

  When I can’t hear them any longer, I slowly open the door and peer out, staying low to the floor. No one is in sight. I open the door wider, leaning farther out. The aisle is empty as the shuttle begins moving again. I close the door and make my way back to the cargo area. I don’t go more than two steps before noticing something flashing above my head. The object attached to the wall is about two feet above the windows.