by J. L. Harden
He screams.
And this noise, it echoes off the tunnel walls and is eventually swallowed by the darkness.
Tommy falls to his knees, clutching at the knife in his eye.
I take the gun out of the holster strapped to his belt. I grab the knife and slide the blade out of his eye.
There’s blood everywhere.
And Tommy throws up and he’s screaming, “I can’t see! I can’t see!”
“Calm down, you pansy ass. You’ve still got one good eye.”
He ignores my words of reassurance. He continues to scream. So I pistol whip him across his face and I hear a crack and I think I’ve re-broken his jaw.
He stops screaming.
“Where is Mike taking Angel?” I ask.
“My fucking eye!”
“Can you stop whining about your eye for one goddamn second? Where is he taking her?”
“Fuck you. You think I’m going to talk?”
“You’re a rat, Tommy. It’s what you do.”
“Go to hell. You’re just delaying the inevitable. They’re gonna hang you. One way or another, you are going to die.”
“We’re all gonna die, Tommy. Some of us sooner than others.”
I press the barrel of the gun against his temple. “Where is he taking her?”
“I tell you… you let me live. Right? You’ll let me go?”
“Sure, Tommy. I’ll let you go.”
“He’s taking her outside.”
“Outside?”
“Above ground. He’s taking her to the Wasteland. He’s got orders from the Collector. He’s going to put her body on a spike, use her as a warning to the other girls trying to escape into the Wasteland. Can you imagine it? The girls. Let’s say they make it, they make it out of Wonderland, through the Long Tunnel. They escape the Buried City. It’d take a miracle, right? Imagine then seeing a girl, one of their own, dead, murdered and mutilated. It will send quite the message don’t you think?”
“What exit is he using?”
“He’s going to one of the surface stations.”
“Which one?”
“Where else? Central station, of course.”
“Thanks, Tommy. You’ve been a good little rat.”
I aim the gun at his head and before he can stop me, before he can complain about how we had a deal, I get totally carried away and I put a bullet through his brain.
Chapter 18
The surface stations.
Everyone in the Buried City knows to avoid the surface stations. During the day they are excruciatingly and unbearably hot. But during the night they are worse. Much, much worse. And even though the temperature drops to a somewhat tolerable level, the surface stations are the last place you want to hang out. To say they are treacherous and dangerous is an understatement. This is because at night, they are frequented by Wasteland Raiders and twisted things from the ruined city above.
Yeah, you’re supposed to stay the hell away from the surface stations.
And here I am, driving fast, racing towards the sun, racing towards Central, chasing a monster.
The Sunspeeder is fast and good and it’s plenty charged up. There’s even an onboard computer that has a layout of the subway tunnels. Every single tunnel. All I have to do is tell it where I want to go and it will lead me there.
I’m coming, Angel.
The tunnel dips and bends and the Sunspeeder actually picks up speed and I have to back off a little. And to think, I could’ve owned one of these bad boys.
If only I’d played the game.
Don’t go thinking like that, Zoe. Don’t start down that road. Playing the game. Whatever the hell that means. Doing favors for Wonderland. Like Wonderland would ever make good on a promise, or honor a deal. No. Wonderland will do whatever the fuck they want to do. The Lord. The Collector. They don’t answer to anyone. If they feel like screwing over someone, they’ll go right ahead and do it. Don’t care how many favors you’ve done, don’t care how dirty your hands are.
The Sunspeeder is flying through this tunnel. Driving uphill now. The engine is working hard. I’ve got the windows down and the air is getting warmer. A lot warmer. It’s starting to burn my skin. My lungs.
I think about rolling the windows up. But I don’t. Need to acclimatize. Need to get used to this feeling.
Burning.
Suffocating.
Starting to see warning signs now.
Stop.
Extreme heat ahead!
Turn back now!
Exposure to surface air temperatures will result in injury and possibly death.
I must be getting close. Been driving hard for an hour now. Maybe longer. Juice is down to half a tank, half a charge. I wonder how long the battery will last for. Wasn’t fully charged when I jumped in. Luckily, I don’t have far to go. The onboard computer is telling me I’m close.
Real close.
But I don’t see anything.
Just the walls of the tunnel.
Darkness.
Nothingness.
And then I see it.
Finally.
The tunnel opens up and I’ve arrived at some kind of junction, I’ve arrived at Central Station. There’s multiple tracks and multiple platforms. Up ahead I see a Sunspeeder. Its doors are wide open. I hit the brakes and grab the gun I took from Tommy Two Scars. It’s good and loaded.
I’ve also got the knife I took from the dead Enforcer. It’s only a small knife but it is sharp and nasty and plenty lethal.
And again, if I want to use it, I’ll need to get close. Personal.
That’s fine by me.
I leave the Sunspeeder with these two weapons and I’m feeling pretty good about this. I just hope I’m not too late. I just hope Mike has taken his time. I hope Angel is still alive.
I move towards the nearest platform, using iron support pillars and the actual platform as cover and concealment. I remind myself that Mike’s also got one of his goons with him, the son of a bitch who tortured me, the son of a bitch who knocked me out.
I run from cover to cover.
I’m keeping an eye and an ear out for them but so far there’s nothing. Not a goddamn sign of anyone. Within seconds I’m pouring with sweat. Breathing hard. I can’t believe how hot it is. It feels like the air is on fire, like I’m actually walking and running through a fucking oven.
I’d give anything for a thermo suit right about now.
Sweat drips off my face and my arms and my fingertips. I wipe my hands on my pants and then I see him.
The goon.
The torturer.
He’s got his back to me. He’s watching another tunnel, another entry point.
I’ve got the drop on him.
I’ve got the element of surprise.
I sneak up. I stalk him, hunt him.
I take out the knife, flicking the blade into position. And the noise, just the noise, a click, a tiny and insignificant click, is enough to tip him off.
I make my attack anyway.
He turns around. He’s on his feet and he’s ready to fight but he’s too slow. I jam the knife into the side of his neck. He swings one of his massive arms, pushing me, brushing me away, knocking me completely off balance. I fall back, landing on my ass. Son of a bitch just disposed of me like I was nothing. Meanwhile, the knife is still in the side of his neck. But he doesn’t seemed too bothered by it. He’s kind of holding the knife handle like it’s a minor inconvenience, like he’s cut himself shaving.
He takes the knife out, slides it out slowly. Blood pours out of the wound, but again, he doesn’t seem too concerned. He inspects the blade and says, “Try again.”
And then he throws the knife at me, like an expert, like a trained goddamn assassin. And the blade sticks in my shoulder and the pain nearly drops me.
Son of a bitch.
The goon takes a step toward me, a very large step. His arms are outstretched like he’s about to grab me and snap my body in half. I slide the knife out of my shoulder. No time to ins
pect the wound.
I tell myself it doesn’t matter anyway. I tell myself it’s just a flesh wound.
I tell myself it’s nothing.
It’s nothing.
It’s just a flesh wound.
The goon is almost on top of me and there’s no way I can fight this guy. Just as I’m about to throw the knife back at him, aiming for his throat or his heart, I realize that I still have Tommy’s gun. And I realize I should probably use it right fucking now because there’s no way in hell that I’ll get another chance to use it. I tell myself to stop playing around. I’ve lost the element of surprise, lost any advantage I ever had. So I decide enough is enough.
I take Tommy’s gun out.
I take the shot.
Two shots.
At point blank range. Loud and thunderous.
Center mass…
Two slugs right in his chest.
It takes the second shot to drop him and I’ll give this guy credit, he was a tough son of a bitch. Tough as nails.
While he’s lying on the ground dead and dying, I put a bullet in his skull. I do this to make sure he doesn’t get back up. And then I make my way up and on to the platform so I can get a good look around the station. Maybe I should be hiding and taking cover, but I want to get this over with.
It’s time to end the hunt.
Time to get everyone out in the open.
Time for everyone to show their cards and their hand.
I’m about to walk up a set of stairs, to one of the higher levels, when I hear a familiar voice…
“You just won’t die, will you Zoe? Just like your old man. Stubborn and difficult to your last breath.”
“You’re one to talk, you old fuck. You goddamn vampire.”
Mike Malone, my former deputy has a hold of Angel, he’s holding her by her neck. He’s got her in a choke hold. The barrel of the gun is pressed into her temple. I look closer. The gun he’s using is the gun that was given to me by the Mayor the day I was sworn in as Sheriff.
“You should turn back,” Mike says with just a hint of desperation and fear in his voice. “You should run while you’re still good and able.”
“Yeah? Why’s that, Mike? Give me one good reason to run.”
“The Scarred Overseer is coming for you. When he finds out about this. He’ll come back. He’ll hunt you down. And there’s nowhere you can go that’s safe. Nowhere. The Canyons? He’ll find you. Even if you somehow managed to get all the way to Ark America, he would still find you.”
“Let him come. I’d prefer a clean fight.”
“Always such a smart ass, Zoe. Always. You’ve never taken my advice. I tried to teach you, tried to make you see the error of your ways. You never listened. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re not listening now.”
“That’s right, you shouldn’t be surprised.”
I aim my gun at Mike Malone. My gun. Tommy Two Scars’ gun.
I aim the gun.
I cock the hammer. There’s a risk I could hit Angel if I miss.
But I won’t miss.
Not even with blood dripping down my arm, and my ears ringing from the fire fight, from shooting and killing a man at point blank range, I won’t miss.
“Don’t you dare!” he shouts. “Lower the gun or I will kill her right here, right now.”
Mike is hesitating. He’s hesitating because he’s under strict orders from Wonderland on how to kill us and how to display our bodies.
“You’re all talk, Mike.”
Mike fucking Malone. Yeah, he’s played this all wrong. Should’ve killed Angel by now. Should’ve ambushed me. Should’ve shot me in the back of the head. But he didn’t. He keeps holding on. He keeps the girl alive. Maybe he wants to have his way first. Maybe he wants to have a party as Tommy Two Scars so eloquently put it.
If I miss, I’ll hit her.
But I won’t miss.
My father taught me how to shoot. Taught me how to hunt rats, just like Mike Malone.
I fire the gun.
It does the trick. Its aim is true.
Mike flies back and Angel is tossed to the side.
I step forward and kick away his gun. My gun. It slides off the platform and deeper into the tunnel, disappearing in the darkness.
Angel has hit her head on something. She’s holding the side of her head. “You are crazy.”
I guess I am a little bit crazy.
I stand over Mike and he’s struggling to breathe. The gunshot wound is dead center. Blood is bubbling up and out of his chest. I think I’ve punctured his lung.
He is dying and struggling to breathe and struggling to come to terms with everything that just went down. The look on his face is priceless.
He says, “What have you done? You’ll pay for this. They’ll send the Overseer after you. They’ll send an army. Don’t you know who I am? I’m the Sheriff. I’m a veteran of the Last Great War. Don’t you know who I am?”
And I say, “Sure I do, Mike. You’re a goddamn son of a bitch. A rapist, a crooked cop who got what was owed to him.”
Mike is cursing me. Swearing at me. Telling me it didn’t have to be like this. He is outraged. He wants to kill me right now. But he can’t. He can’t because he is dying and he can’t because he’s not in charge of this situation.
He was never in charge.
I aim the gun at his head and his eyes go wide and Angel says, “Yes… do it.”
And I think… No…
And I say, “No.”
“No?”
“Where’s my gun?”
Where’s my fucking gun? The gun the Mayor gave to me the day I was sworn in as Sheriff.
I look over at Angel and her eyes are big and she’s afraid. She’s looking at me and she’s wondering why I haven’t take the shot.
And Mike says, “For fuck’s sake, Zoe. I tried to save your life. Do you understand that? I tried to save your goddamn life!”
My head hurts. My arm is going numb. I’m bleeding and I can hardly see straight.
I say to Mike, “I appreciate you trying to save my life.”
He shakes his head. He can’t believe the sass I’m giving him. He can’t believe it.
He is indignant. He is outraged.
“Angel,” I say. “You should look away...”
No response from Angel. She doesn’t look away.
“There’s nowhere to run to,” Mike says. “You’ve sealed your own fate. I tried to save you. Could’ve worked it all out. But you had no idea how to play the game. You’re so fucking good and clean. And righteous. Just like your old man. Your old man. And look where that got him.”
I know Mike knew my father.
I know Mike killed my father.
“I warned you… ” I say.
“Your father got himself killed,” Mike says, ignoring my threat. “He forced my hand!”
And I’m bleeding heavily and I think maybe I’m passing out.
And I hear Mike saying that he can’t believe it.
He can’t believe it.
It’s unbelievable.
Before I pass out, I make eye contact with Mike. Red hot, white hot eye contact. And I say, “How old are you, Mike? You served in the Last Great War. How old does that make you? You should’ve died a long, long time ago. You’re a vampire. Plain and simple. Remember how I said I was going to run a wooden stick through your heart? And then I said I was going to remove your head from your shoulders? Remember that? Well, turns out I don’t have a stake on me right now. But I do have this here knife…”
Again, I tell Angel to look away.
She doesn’t.
I straddle Mike and I slide the knife into his heart, right next to the gunshot wound. He tries to scream but no sound escapes his mouth. I then slide the knife into his throat and it gets real messy real quick and it’s hard to keep a grip on the handle and on reality.
But I manage.
I remove his head from his shoulders and I stand up and I hold it high. Blood is drippi
ng and pouring everywhere.
I throw it on to the train tracks.
And I scream into the darkness.
Angel is silent the whole time. She’s in shock and maybe she’s afraid.
Suddenly my world turns upside down. I see stars. I see the Red Giant. I lose my vision. Just for a second.
And then I’m on my knees and I’m dizzy and I can’t think straight.
And the whole world goes dark.
Angel is calling my name, telling me to stay with her. “Stay with me, Zoe. Don’t you fucking die on me!”
“Where’s my gun?” I ask. “My gun…”
Chapter 19
I earned that gun.
I was sworn in.
They gave me the gun.
And I earned it. Day in. Day out.
I was a good Sherriff.
I shot straight.
My aim was true.
Where’s my fucking gun?
I wake suddenly. My pulse is still racing. I’m lying on my back. I’m looking up at an extremely bright light.
There’s a shadow leaning over me.
A shadow.
A man.
There is a pain in my shoulder. In my chest. Shooting up and down my arm.
My vision slowly comes into focus.
I am surrounded by people. By concerned onlookers.
Maximillian Schroder.
Edgar Ramirez.
Angel.
“The blade clipped quite a few veins,” Max says. “You had lost a lot of blood. But you will make a full recovery.”
I try and sit up but I’m pushed back down by multiple hands.
“We need to keep moving,” I say. “We need to go. It’s not safe here.”
“We will go,” Ed says. “But we need to be smart.”
“The Scarred Overseer is coming,” I say. “He’s coming…”
“No one knows about this room,” Max explains. “It is well protected. It is hidden. We are safe for the moment.”
Nowhere is safe.
Not here.
Not the Canyons.
Not even Ark America.
“We’re not staying long,” Ed says. “First, I need to get Angel’s friends. And then we’ll go.”
“Wait… where are we?”
“We’re in the morgue,” Max explains. “Well, actually, we’re below the morgue.”