15 Years Later: Wasteland

by Nick S. Thomas

  "Why not? They are your people."

  She shook her head. "If I go back I will die."

  He didn't need to ask why. He nodded as if to accept that she was not his enemy and lowered the rifle. He knelt back down and picked up his photos.

  "Are they your family?" she asked.

  He shrugged. "Probably, but I’m not sure."

  It didn't seem to strike her as strange that he didn't know.

  "Why do you carry pictures? People you don't really know; probably aren't even alive."

  That made him angry. He needed something to keep going on for besides survival.

  "You have no idea if they are alive or not, do you?" he snapped.

  She shook her head, but didn't shy away as he thought she might. He could tell she was the creation of a harsh world, a savage upbringing he would not wish on anyone. He looked back at the photos and wondered what it might be like to never have anyone to care about.

  "Where will we go now?"

  He looked puzzled.

  "We? We aren't going anywhere. I am going West. Don't follow me."

  But it was clear that she fully intended to do that, whether he liked it or not.

  "Why would you want to follow me, anyway? I can't offer you anything. I don't even have anything to give."

  She shrugged as she looked out into the distance.

  "Lonely life out there."

  He thought about it for a moment and began to wonder if there might be some safety in numbers, but then he turned back and remembered what and who she was. She still looked at him with crazy eyes. He fully expected her to attack him at any moment, and he didn't want to imagine what trying to sleep through that risk might be like.

  "You tried to kill me, why would I want you around?"

  She blanked him completely and responded with her own question quite bluntly.

  "You have any food?"

  Her face was so matter of fact and serious.

  "What?"

  "Food, do you have any?"

  He shook his head as she threw the pack off her back and opened the lid. It was full of cans and jars, as well as bottles of water.

  "If you want food, you will go with me."

  He sighed and shook his head, but looking down at the jars he began to notice how hungry he was, and how strong her position was. He briefly considered taking it from her with force, but somehow he wasn't comfortable with striking her, when all she was trying to do was live with him.

  "Fine, we go together until I find my own food."

  She smiled, and he could tell she really was happy.

  Maybe there is some humanity left. Maybe she really does want something more than to live in that hellhole amongst savages. Or maybe she just has no choice.

  Whatever it was, he was stuck with her, and him with her. They seemed like the most unlikely of pairings, and yet it was the events that brought them together, not their personalities.

  "You are waiting until night?"

  He nodded as she came forward and took a seat out of sight where he had been before. They eased into some comfort as she broke out some food. For several hours they did nothing but periodically check for any sign of the lunatics from Jaytown. Occasional passes in the vehicles gave them cause for concern, but they never got close enough to be a problem. It was clear they had no clue where he had gotten to, and that was a major relief. As they reached midday, the sound of the engines died down, and he could only speculate they had given up their searches. He could only imagine how much gas they must have wasted looking for him, and what they might do if they ever caught him.

  It was a boring and tedious day. The sunshine that had been so welcome was now baking them. There was no shelter in sight, not that they could move to until night. Eventually, he turned his attention to the woman, realising he didn't even know her name.

  "I'm Zed," he said.

  "Rave."

  He laughed, but she didn't seem to find it funny.

  "That can't be your name?"

  She nodded.

  "What was your birth name?"

  She shrugged.

  "I don't remember anymore. All I remember is Rave."

  "Yeah, well it suits your attire."

  "Attire?"

  "Your clothes."

  She didn't seem to even find it strange how she was dressed.

  "Homicidal punk schoolgirl leaves a lasting impression."

  She didn't seem to quite understand what he meant, but smiled as if to pretend she did.

  "You wore that to school?" he asked, pointing to some of the clothes she wore.

  But she shook her head. "No, my sister."

  "And she's?"

  "Dead."

  There didn't even seem to be any sadness in her face or tone of her voice. Death was nothing to these people, and he realised he would do well to remember that fact. He lifted the rifle into his hands, and that made her on edge for the first time since arriving. Her eyes were locked on it as if she had never handled a firearm.

  "I'm just checking it over," he reassured her.

  She still seemed uneasy as he pulled the bolt open.

  "What is it?"

  "In Jaytown, only the Captains were allowed to touch them. I would have been killed for touching."

  In his mind he instantly thought of safety. Despite her age, she still came across as very childish, but he knew that wasn't the reason.

  "I guess a working gun with ammo is a valuable commodity around here?"

  She nodded in agreement, as if he were talking about bars of gold. The bolt of the rifle was stiff, and he found the breech empty. The mechanism was dry and looked like it hadn't been cleaned or had a round down it in years. He looked around for something to clean it with, but there was no oil in sight or fabric to spare. He blew out dust and sand as best he could, slid the bolt back and forth, and checked the breech. It was far from satisfactory, but he didn't have much else to hand.

  He unclipped one of the hooks on the bandolier and pulled out a stripper clip. The brass was old, dulled, and a little dusty. He blew them off and slid the rounds into the weapon.

  "You ever used one of these?" he asked her.

  "Long time ago."

  He took in a deep breath, trying to find a way to approach her with all the questions he had without seeming crazy.

  "Do you know what year it is?" he asked casually, as if knowing the answer and putting her to the test.

  She shook her head. "What is it?"

  He sighed. He needed answers, but it was like drawing blood from a stone. He had to try at least.

  "That city back there, the ruins of a big city, what was it called?"

  Once again she shook her head. It was as if she had never known it to be any other way but the desolate remains that he had witnessed. There was silence for a few minutes as Zed tried to think of any information he may be able to get from her. All he could think was to go back to what was her home and work from there.

  "How long have you lived in Jaytown?"

  "Long time, long as I remember."

  "And before that?"

  She pointed out into the distance.

  "We walked from place to place. Stayed where we could."

  "Who?"

  "Different people."

  It seemed she'd had some kind of education. She wasn't entirely feral. It was as if her education had been cut short before she had gotten to high school. Maybe that was an indicator as to the time frame since whatever had caused this apocalyptic scenario, if that's what it was.

  "Is it like this all over?"

  She didn't seem to understand.

  "Governments? Police? Any organised society, anything more than Jay?"

  "The Boss?"

  "Boss? Who is that?"

  "That's what people called him. He was in charge of all these lands. In charge of everything I ever saw. Up in the city."

  "What city?"

  "The only city."

  "Was?"

  "People say he was killed, n
ot long back. I don't know."

  "And someone else has taken his place?"

  She shrugged.

  It was incredibly frustrating, but he didn't know how to get much more out of her. He also felt sorry for her, even if she had tried to kill him.

  "That wreck of a city. I made it to the outskirts. All I found were young men, feral, more like animals. What's their deal?"

  "Scraps."

  "What?"

  "That's what we call them. Scavengers, that's all."

  "Where were the older folk?"

  "I don't know. We stay away from the city. Jay once went there many years ago and barely came back alive. He went in with ten and came back alone."

  Close call, then.

  He couldn't believe he was thinking it, but maybe getting hauled into Jaytown saved his life. That was depressing thought, but somehow he knew it to be true.

  Maybe there are worse people and places than Jaytown. Is there nowhere worth living anymore? There has to be. There has to be more than this, more people that are still sane.

  "What is West?"

  "Paradise they say, but nobody that goes West ever comes back."

  "The man who set me free, he told me to go West. Why would he do that?"

  "Maybe because it is your only chance of escaping Jay. He will come for you. He never lets anyone escape, and when he finds you, he will kill you. But not quickly."

  "I know his sort," he replied confidently.

  He began to wonder how true that was. He felt it was.

  Why did I say that?

  "I have no intention of ever going back there. I've seen quite enough of Jay and his disgusting town. I'm going West. Not because I think it's a good idea, but because it's the only idea, and maybe it might just see me to safety."

  "Then I go West, too."

  "You don't owe me anything."

  "No."

  "Then why would you want to come with me?"

  "Because I can't go home, and nobody makes it on their own out here."

  She really did mean and believe everything she said. Neither of them liked each other much or wanted to be round one another, but it was a necessity for survival.

  Chapter 7

  Zed awoke in the rays of the morning light once again. He cautiously sprung up into a seating position and clutched the rifle beside him as he looked around for any danger. There was nothing, nothing but the faint sound of snoring from Rave lying a few feet away. She looked completely at home sleeping on bare rock, with nothing but her backpack to elevate her head a little.

  Is this the life I have to look forward to? I really hope not.

  He got up, paced over to her, and gave her a gentle kick to wake her up. She was so deep in sleep she didn't even stir, so he kicked her again a little harder until she did.

  "What?" she asked as if she had been awake the whole time.

  As she opened her eyes, the look on her face changed. She had forgotten where she was, and no longer in the relative safety of Jaytown. She looked disappointed for a few moments as she got up.

  "Come on, we can travel by day now," said Zed, looking down at the canyon ahead and the cover it provided.

  It looked as though there had been a fast flowing river at the base many years ago, but it was long dried up. There were no end of nooks and crannies for them to hide, should they need to be, and were well covered from being seen from a distance. Rave stepped up to behold the view that they could see little of when they arrived in the night. She looked more curious than anything else.

  "Have you never been here?"

  She shook her head.

  "Never West."

  "Didn't you ever want to?"

  She seemed surprised he even had to ask.

  "We go places because we have to. Because we need food, water, or are running from someone. Why else go anywhere?"

  She really seemed to mean it.

  "Haven't you ever wanted more in this life than to live in that shithole of a town?"

  "What is better?"

  He grunted. He couldn't believe it, but she really had no idea of what else could or used to exist.

  "There has to be a better life than this? Somewhere nicer?"

  She only shrugged.

  "Stories I have heard of great places, but they are only stories."

  "No, they aren't. There is more to life than this."

  Even as he said it, he began to doubt his own words. He really had no idea if anything more or better existed out there. Whatever this life was, it was nothing like the one he remembered. And that brought him back to when she first found him, when he first awoke in this nightmare.

  "Back when you tried to kill me on that rock a few days back, had you come looking for me?"

  She shook her head.

  "Did any of you recognise me?"

  The same response followed.

  "Then why did you find me? How?"

  "There was gunfire in the area in the night. We went looking."

  Gunfire? There were no guns in sight when I woke up, or anyone with gunshot wounds.

  "Do you find many people wandering out there?"

  "I guess, but less this past year. It's too dangerous."

  "Why?"

  "Because everyone wants to take what you have."

  "Yeah? Well, not me."

  "You have taken everything I have. My home, my people."

  "But not your life," he quickly replied.

  She couldn't argue with that, and it was clear that meant a lot to her. She had slept in all her clothes just as he had, and looking at her filthy state, he realised he was no better.

  "I need a bath," he stated.

  She smiled and then began to laugh, and it seemed uncontrollable for a few minutes, and he soon realised why. Ever since he had awoken, it had been apparent he was in a particularly dry and dusty land. Water must be a rare and valuable commodity, too rare to waste on something as basic to him as washing. He pulled on his bag and rifle.

  "Come on, we might as well get on."

  They were soon on their way. There seemed no sign of finding life ahead, but it was a damn sight better than what was at their backs. It was hard and difficult ground, and the heat didn't help, but he was glad to at least be putting as much distance between them and the town as possible. They had been walking a few hours when finally Zed opened his mouth once more. She didn't ever seem one to talk without being prompted.

  "How'd you get the name Rave?"

  "It was Raven, but people just call me Rave."

  "Because it sounds tougher, edgier?"

  "No, shorter."

  He smiled, but she hadn't even realised that it would be funny.

  They walked all day. Towards the end they came over some rocks and found something completely out of character with the jagged natural terrain, the remains of a large turbine engine. It was badly damaged and scattered into many parts. Zed strode up to investigate, but as he drew nearer, he spotted the nose of the passenger jet it had come from. The fuselage was scattered over half a mile ahead of them. It was covered in dust and sand so that much of it blended into the environment.

  "I remember these," said Rave.

  Zed heard a crunch of something and looked down. Several bones were beneath his feet. No skin or muscle tissue, they had been stripped bare.

  "Must have crashed sometime ago."

  "Yes," she replied confidently.

  "No one could have survived this."

  He went forward and stepped up to a large hole in the fuselage and looked inside. No bodies, no belongings, nothing of use.

  "We aren't the first to find this. When was the last time you saw one of these fly?"

  She looked so vague and uncertain it must have been a long time ago. He had so many questions that he wanted answered, and yet she seemed incapable of even scratching the surface. He went onwards and led the way. It wasn't long before he came to a bridge across one of the canyons. It was a simple but well designed steel construction that looked like something
the military would use. On the path to it were the prints of many boots, but no vehicle tracks. They had to be fairly recent.

  "Well, look at that," he said with a smile.

  They carried on over it and followed what was little more than a dirt track as it led them through a corridor of stone. Not large enough to fit a car through. Eventually, it began to open out, and they found themselves before a manmade wall. It was constructed from concrete cinder blocks and stood twenty feet tall, and had just one entrance, a thick steel door at the centre.

  "Hello!" Zed yelled.

  When nothing came back, he repeated himself even louder as they approached and came to a standstill to await a response. Finally, a man appeared at the top of the wall. He looked to be close to fifty, scruffily dressed, but far cleaner and more respectable than anything he’d seen in Jaytown. He carried a recurve bow in his hands, but didn't seem eager to use it.

  "Keep moving!" he barked back.

  Zed stayed calm and made no attempt to reach for his rifle or pose any kind of threat.

  "We are just passing through! I am looking for some people I know!"

  "You don't know anyone here. Keep moving on. We aren't looking for a fight, but we will defend ourselves!"

  "We ain't looking for a fight!"

  But the man drew out an arrow from behind the wall and began to slowly string it.

  "We aren't looking for any trouble," replied Zed.

  He reached towards the inner pocket of his coat, but that made the guard on the wall only more anxious as he lifted the bow towards Zed. He slowed down his hand and very carefully reached in for his photos, holding them up for the man to see.

  "I am just looking for these people!"

  "They aren't here. Go look somewhere else!" came the response.

  "Please, you can't see them from there. We don't want anything from you. Just please let us in to ask a few questions."

  "No strangers!" said the man.

  Zed was getting agitated, but he didn't know how else to word it.

  "Please, no need for a fight here."

  The man drew back his bow and fired a shot. It was well short and landed ten feet in front of Zed, clearly intended to be that way.

  "Move on!"

  But Zed couldn't. He stood his ground and shook his head. The man struck another arrow and pointed at him as if expecting him to move, but he did not. He simple stared back at the man and shook his head.