Wasteland

Home > Other > Wasteland > Page 25
Wasteland Page 25

by Ann Bakshis


  The fuel cells operating the vehicles are solar powered, so we don’t have to worry about being short on power, but the air inside becomes stagnant after a couple of hours so Rabaan flips a control switch on the front dash opening a panel in the roof allowing fresh air to flow in. I close my eyes, lean against Jagger, and drift off to sleep.

  My nightmares resume the moment my eyes close.

  My friends perishing around me…the buildings collapsing…Magda rescuing me.

  Sometime later, I sense the vehicle is no longer moving, and open my eyes.

  I’m alone inside, the sun radiating through a group of trees just above the roof. I sit up and exit the vehicle. Everyone is gathered on a small patch of open land. Some appear to be sleeping while others are stretching or eating. Jagger and Lehen are sound asleep under a large elm tree. Quin is off to the left of the group, sitting alone, and reading. I walk up to him, sit down, and remove the worn leather bound book from his hands.

  I recognize the book as belonging to Parson Mathan. “Where did you get this?”

  “I took it from his study early yesterday.”

  I hand the book back to him, but he doesn’t reopen it.

  “I followed you and Braxton into the healer’s dean and stood out in the hall when you two were talking to him. I knew they were all lies…the same that they’d been telling me.”

  “What did they say to you?”

  “That I was wicked, crafted to lead the destruction of man. In order to save myself from death, I was told that I would need to befriend the other Antaeans. It would make their capturing easier. I had no idea what Parson Mathan’s real plan was. They never tried to harm me like they did Lehen and you. I think that’s because Rabaan prevented it.”

  “How long had it been going on?”

  “The torture?”

  I nod.

  “Since I was ten. I just accepted it after a while. I was taught to never question anything the Parson or Dr. Baccus did, or wanted. When I heard what Dr. Baccus told you and Braxton, I knew I had to find out more. I went to confront the Parson, but he wasn’t in his study. I found this instead.” Quin holds up the book. “The lives he destroyed, all captured in his little ledger. People he murdered, including his own father, women he raped, and children he sacrificed, all for the name of some deity he didn’t even believe in. He would carry this around, claiming it was scripture when in reality it was a log of atrocities he committed against his own people…against me…against you.”

  Tears begin to well up in his eyes. Quin tries to choke them back before they spill over. “I’m sorry,” he says to me after a long pause.

  I hold him tight and begin rocking him, my own tears falling. My life in the Wasteland was trouble-free compared to the cruelty Quin suffered. He wraps his arms around me, weeping softly. We stay there, holding each other for over an hour, afraid to let go.

  Quintus has returned.

  After another hour of rest, we climb back into the vehicles, and continue our journey. We traverse over small foothills, past dried-up lake beds, and watch as the moon shines brightly overhead. The next day we make another two hour long stop. I elect to stay inside the vehicle and sleep. Quin stays with me.

  The next morning, just as the sun is rising over the cracked ridge, we come across a transport road that should take us right into the hatchery. The vehicles pick up speed now that the terrain has leveled out. Thin pine trees line the left side of the narrow road as the right side cascades down, jagged red and brown rocks leading the way. We wind our way up the elevation, making a sharp right once we’re at the top. Another hour passes before we reach the outskirts of Hatchery Nine.

  The road is blocked by a heavy metal gate, coated white. When our convoy stops at the entrance, Braxton exits the vehicle walking towards the front. The post on the right side of the entrance that holds that side of the gate in place, slides open at his approach. He steps inside the opening and a few moments later the gate opens. He climbs back into our vehicle before we pass through, the gate closing quietly behind us. About a half-mile later we’re at another gate identical to the first. This time Rey gets out and approaches. I can’t see what security device he needs to trigger, but within moments the gate swings wide allowing us to pass.

  We travel only twenty miles per hour for the next half hour, even though the road is straight and flat. I look over at Braxton who is continually monitoring our speed on the digital dashboard. Looking out the window on my right, I notice conflagration artillery hidden amongst the trees.

  “The road is speed sensitive,” Braxton says, now keeping his eyes on the vehicle in front of us. “If anyone goes over twenty miles per hour, the vehicle is showered with artillery fire.”

  “What about the other security devices we passed?”

  “The first gate is a full body scan. The biometric scanner inside the post maps out the person’s structure. If you’re in the data banks, the gate will open.”

  “And if you’re not?”

  “You’re incinerated.”

  Jagger grunts at Braxton’s comment.

  “Gate two is triggered by weight. The person needs to be between two hundred to two hundred and forty pounds. The sensor is directly in front of the gate. If you’re over or under by a quarter of a pound, you’re electrocuted by a pulse from the gate.”

  “How many more gates do we have to go through?”

  “Just one more…and you’re going to have open it.”

  “Why me?”

  “You’ll see.” He looks at me with a large grin on his face.

  Another half hour passes before the convoy stops again.

  Braxton gestures for me to exit the vehicle. I hesitate and he doesn’t rush me, but waits patiently as I contemplate what might be waiting for me at the head of the line. I open the door, carefully placing my feet down onto the asphalt, and make my way slowly up to the gate, all eyes on me from every passenger in the first two vehicles.

  The gate is a simple archway, nothing visible blocking our procession. I stand in front of the first vehicle, staring up at the white granite keystone perfectly centered in the arch. Focusing my gaze forward, beyond the haze that has settled over the landscape, I slowly advance, aligning myself directly under the keystone.

  A red veil drops down on me, my skin prickling hot from the waves of energy bombarding it. The heat begins to increase; I feel my molecules accelerate, colliding into each other. I close my eyes, not wanting to see my flesh break apart, but just as the sensation reaches the level of pain I can barely tolerate, it stops. I open my eyes. The red veil is gone, and the haze lifted. Moving beyond the keystone, I step off to the side to let the vehicles pass. Braxton stops to allow me back inside.

  “Even though I’m whole, a part of me feels as if I’ve been ripped into pieces and hastily reassembled,” I comment as I secure myself into my seat.

  “That’s a side effect of the gene decoder.”

  “What was it looking for?”

  “It was looking for your X chromosomes. In order to unlock the last gate, you have to be female.”

  “Why go to such lengths to protect the hatcheries?”

  “You’ll see.”

  We maneuver around a tight ridge, and a large, white square building comes into view. The drive circles in front of the building; a group of short pine trees adorns the center. The structure stands two stories high. It’s long, with precise ninety-degree angles at the corners. It appears to be sitting on the edge of the rock face, and I guess there are more stories below the surface.

  Braxton is first to the door, placing his right palm over a scanner next to the entrance. A small bulb above the scanner goes from red to green, but the door doesn’t open.

  “Welcome Captain Braxton,” a high-pitched female voice announces from hidden speakers. “What can we assist you with today?”

  “Our communications with Acheron have been lost and we desperately need to contact the High Ruler.”

  “Only five of you may e
nter the Intake Facility. Please advise the remainder of your party to stay with their vehicles. Remove all weapons from your persons before entering the building.”

  Braxton walks over to Keller and Rey who’ve exited the trucks, and speaks quietly with them. I place my Levin gun and knife on the front seat of the last vehicle. The two Morrigan who’ve been riding with us are divided between the other two vehicles, which leaves Jagger, Quin, Rabaan, Lehen, Braxton, and I. Jagger elects to stay behind with the others as we line up in front of the door, which hisses open and then quickly closes behind us.

  No one is there to meet us.

  The entryway is flanked on both sides by glass inlayed doors. The glass is clouded over by a white film. I step out of the group, walk to the far side of the room, to a large window, which allows me to see into several rooms on the other side of the building. There are a couple of women sitting in chairs, their legs elevated as they’re being examined. I look away, my eyes drifting down through the whole in the center of the structure to the rust colored rocks below where massive sturdy columns extend out from the cliff face, holding the building into place.

  I return to the group just as the door to the right opens. A tall woman wearing dark red slacks with a matching blazer walks out. Her red hair is pulled tightly back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She doesn’t extend her hand as she introduces herself, but rather keeps her hands firmly clasped together behind her back.

  “Captain Braxton, I’m Superior Hersher. What can I assist you with?”

  “Hersher?” I question, making sure I’d heard her clearly.

  “Yes, Diana Hersher, and you are?”

  “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Dr. Hersher?” My voice raises an octave. I can tell I’m startling this woman, which makes me smile inside.

  “He’s my father. Why…has something happened to him?”

  “No, Superior Hersher,” Braxton begins, as he gestures for me to keep quiet. “I’m sure your father is quite fine. We’re in need of your security and communications room. We’ve not been able to contact Acheron for a few days and we need to radio for assistance.”

  “I’m sorry, Captain, but our link to Acheron seems to have failed as of this morning. I was in the middle of a video conference with the High Ruler when our system went into emergency shutdown. I haven’t been able to raise them since.”

  “That means it’s begun,” Rabaan says from the back.

  “Superior, please excuse me for being so abrupt, but it’s imperative that you take me to your security and communications room.”

  She hesitates briefly, but upon hearing the urgency in his voice she nods and signals for us to follow her back through the door she’d entered through.

  The corridor is brightly lit from the windows that line the wall on our left. We turn the corner, rushing down the passage at a quickened pace. A few pictures hang between closed doors, which slowly begin to open as we go past. Half-way down the hall we turn left and begin descending a flight of stairs. We pass two additional floors before coming to the bottom level. The Superior makes an immediate right, opening the door after she inputs a code on the keypad embedded in the handle.

  Several of the monitors hanging on the wall are black, but a faint humming noise filtering through the speakers indicates the screens are still on. The remaining monitors show changing scenes of the complex from outside, including the front entrance. A couple of workers in gray uniforms are busy working the controls, probably attempting to reestablish the connection with Acheron.

  “Security footage from the Centurion satellite is usually displayed on these screens,” the Superior states, as she gestures to the blackened monitors. “We also control all Acheron broadcasts through those monitors to the other buildings in the complex.”

  “What does the satellite take pictures of?” Rabaan asks.

  I image he’s probably curious about whether it was ever directed over Nuceira.

  “It sweeps about one hundred miles around the hatchery checking for any people from the Wasteland or Nuceira who might be trying to enter restricted territory. The satellite is controlled from Acheron’s main security building.”

  “Is there any way to get the satellite back online?” I inquire, trying to make myself useful.

  “It’ll take us a while to reroute the connections between here and Acheron,” Braxton answers, voice tense with fear.

  The two workers look up, finally noticing our presence. Superior Hersher introduces them as Duren and Hera, the security officers of Hatchery Nine. Hera is the voice we heard at the entrance. They, along with Braxton and Rabaan, try to work on reconnecting the complex with Acheron.

  “Should I be concerned?” Superior Hersher pipes in from the doorway.

  “What kind of defenses does this facility have, other than the gates?” Lehen asks, as he begins to assist Braxton who has now crawled under the main console.

  “We have an armory in our emergency bunker.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “It’s off the connecting bridge between the housing unit and the Predestination Center.”

  “Superior, we’ll need you to allow those other men into the complex,” Braxton demands, as he slides out from his corner.

  “Is that really necessary? Having so many guards inside this facility could be worrisome to the children.”

  Braxton doesn’t back down in his persistence, and indicates they may be crucial to helping the children.

  She purses her thin red lips at him, but concedes to his request with one rule; that no guards be allowed beyond the emergency bunker, and no entering the Predestination Center or the Developmental Quad.

  Quin and I follow Superior Hersher back up the stairs and to the entrance. He goes outside to collect the others while the Superior and I wait in the entryway.

  “I know who you are,” she says to me, hands still clasped behind her.

  I look over at her, watching as her face darkens, a wrinkle forming between her perfect brows.

  “You’re my father’s creation. A perfect soldier for times of chaos…for a reckoning that never came.”

  “It’s coming now,” I whisper, not really sure that she hears me.

  Jagger is first to enter, with Quin at the end. Superior Hersher leads us through the opposite set of doors, down another corridor, and around the corner on our right. Women in light orange uniforms exit from small, closet-sized rooms, standing in awe of the parade of men going by. At the end of the hall is a set of double doors that seem out of place. Upon our approach, the doors quietly slide open, leading us to a metal-framed walkway with floor-to-ceiling glass panes as walls, and bright incandescent lights flooding the area with a soft yellow glow. The walkway makes a sharp left, taking us to the housing unit.

  The passageway seems to float in midair, with slate covered hills to our left, and a deep slope to our right.

  We enter the next building, which is identical to the first, turn right after entering, then turn left. Halfway down this corridor sits another set of double doors off to our right. We pass through them and walk onto another connection bridge. This one cuts into the cliff at an angle, probably to allow access to the emergency bunker.

  Before the corridor breaks right towards the Predestination Center, the Superior stops at a small portal on our left and hurriedly provides a palm and retinal scan. When the door opens, she instructs Jagger and Keller on where the armory is located as well as the passcodes needed to gain entry. She doesn’t allow me to enter, but instead insists I accompany her back to the Intake Facility.

  “If I’m to understand, you all will be here for some time,” she begins, as we reach the housing building, “we’ll need to arrange sleeping quarters. As I don’t want any of my women disturbed, the nurses and instructors will be moved from their usual sleeping quarters in the Intake Facility. The nurses will stay with the women, while the instructors will stay with the children.”

  She quickens her pace as a thought enters my mind.
/>
  “How were you able to conference with the High Ruler of Acheron if no one ever sees him?”

  “The Superiors are always informed as to who’s in charge. It’s the Laics that are kept from knowing. If they knew how many times the High Ruler position has changed hands, they would find a way to exploit it and rebel.”

  Once we’re back at the Intake Facility, Superior Hersher pages Dr. Werner, Ms. Amara who is in charge of the nurses, and Ms. Eryn, into her office.

  The office, one floor below the main level, affords a view of the entire layout of the hatchery. The other buildings have two additional floors below the initial first floor, for a total of four floors. Each building is identical in shape, design, and color.

  The interior of the office is decorated in Acheron colors, and the city’s emblem emblazoned on a monitor sitting on the Superior’s desk as well as the carpet on her floor. Few personal items take up some of the empty spaces on bookshelves that line one wall. The only other furniture is a coffee table that sits before a blue leather couch and matching side chairs. Clearly the Superior enjoys all the privileges that can be afforded her.

  A soft knock on the office door breaks the uncomfortable silence. A heavy-set man in white dress clothes with thinning brown hair enters, along with a mouse of a woman in an orange cotton uniform, her graying hair cropped short, and glasses tucked too tightly against her bony face. Ms. Eryn, it seems, has yet to arrive.

  “Dr. Werner, Ms. Amara, this young woman and a number of guards will be spending a few days with us. The High Ruler has sent them to do a security check on our facility due to the lingering threat Tyre poses on the city of Acheron and its people. We must make them feel welcome and be of any assistance to them if needed.”

  She’s already told us she doesn’t want us here, but I’d never know it from what she’s just told her inferiors. The lies seem to come naturally to the Superior, as if she tells them every day.

  “Dr. Werner, you, Ms. Amara and the medical staff will be temporarily moved into the housing unit with the women. I know this is a great inconvenience, but an unfortunate necessity.” She looks over at me, trying to pass the fault of this arrangement onto me. “Your daily routines will continue. Ms. Amara, would you mind advising the kitchen staff about our extra guests? Their meals are to be served after the rest of the facility has eaten. I want to avoid as much socializing between the staff and children and our guests, as possible. If any issues arise, call for me immediately.”

 

‹ Prev