King of the Wasteland: Follow-up to Knight of the Wasteland

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King of the Wasteland: Follow-up to Knight of the Wasteland Page 11

by Jon Cronshaw


  “Just follow the highway. It’s a long way. You’ll see it.”

  “Go big road?”

  “Yep.” Abel points west. “Keep going. You’ll know it when you see it.”

  Big Ned faces west, raising his chin. “We got to get them back. I take my men and hunt them like critter.” He spits on the ground. “He just a man now.”

  18. Mister Fluffy

  It's dusk when Abel spots the tattered red marker hanging from the branch of a dead pine. They make a right off the highway and head through the trees, pushing through ferns and ducking beneath hanging thorns. When they reach the garage, Abel lifts up the shutters, starting at the deep metallic thud when they reach the top.

  Looking inside, he flaps away the dust. “I think we should stay the night,” he says. “But then I want to go back and help out at the Grid.”

  “Why?” David asks. “We’ve just got home.”

  “They’re going to find it real difficult. I was thinking I could take them some tools.”

  “Okay,” says David. “I need sleep first though and we need to get clean.”

  “Sis, you don't have to come if you don't want to.”

  “I want my bike back.”

  Abel nods. “Does that mean you want to come?”

  “I help.”

  “What was all that Mister Fluffy stuff?” David asks, taking off his backpack and placing into the boat.

  Abel chuckles. “Oh, Mister Fluffy.” He shakes his head, grinning. “Remember I told you about that wizard guy I ran with before I met you?”

  David nods. “When you took out the Grid? I bet a dozen times.” He smiles at Sis.

  “Right,” Abel says, his grin dropping. “Well, before the stuff at the Grid, we tried to get the kids freed down by the city. Near where I met you.”

  David nods. “When we buried your dog?”

  “Yep.” Abel takes in a tight breath and exhales. “We'd found this quad bike, and it worked.”

  “What's quad bike?” asks Sis.

  “It was like...it was like, you know that truck? The one the king had? It was like a really small truck to sit on. I think it was meant for a child. It had an engine that still worked. It was a bit like your bike, but with four wheels. About this big.” Abel shows the height, halfway up his thigh. “This wizard guy had a magic show. It wasn’t really magic, he just used to go around, showing people things from before.” Abel shrugs. “Things like light bulbs. People loved it and they’d give him things.”

  “What's this got to do with Mister Fluffy?” David asks. “I’m confused.”

  “I'm getting to that,” Abel says, raising a hand. “We went to Town. It was the first time I’d been there, and the wizard had this trick where he’d make electricity and attach the wires to a dead frog. The electricity made the frog's legs kick. He told people that he’d brought it back to life. It was just electricity, but it looked pretty good.”

  “He bought the frog back to life?” asks David, eyebrows raised.

  “No, no, no. That's just what he told people. And so when were at Town, Big Ned brought out this thing.” Abel shrugs. “He'd made it out of different animals. It had a fox’s body, a squirrel’s tail, and about a dozen rats’ heads sewn into its neck hole.”

  “That sounds horrible.”

  “It was. Believe me, it was.”

  “Big Ned asked the wizard to bring Mister Fluffy to life. I mean, he’d just seen the frog, right? Why not?”

  “What did you do?”

  “He said yes,” Abel says, shrugging. “So we took Mister Fluffy with us.”

  “I don't understand. What’s this got to do with a quad bike?”

  Abel laughs. “We strapped Mister Fluffy to the quad bike and used it as a distraction when we tried to rescue those kids. It would have worked, but the other people from the Family came out on boats from the city.”

  “Right,” David says, making a face.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Sounds a bit far-fetched. You sure you’re not making it up?”

  “No, no. The best part is when I went back to Town. It ended up a couple of the kids who we actually rescued from there said they'd seen Mister Fluffy, so they believed he was alive.”

  “Is that why they like you?”

  “Yep. I haven't got the heart to tell them what really happened.”

  David lets out a long laugh. Sis joins in.

  “It does sound kind of ridiculous when I think about it,” Abel says, smiling. “But seriously, we should get cleaned up, get prepared, get a good night’s sleep, and eat. We’ll get back on the road early tomorrow. Think you guys can manage that?”

  David and Sis nod.

  TREES RUSTLE AROUND them as Abel, David, and Sis approach the gorge’s edge, its sides glowing orange with the midday sun.

  “I try to find this place,” says Sis.

  “The cave?” Abel asks.

  Sis stops and takes in a shuddering breath. “Becca bring me here. We wash and find water. I try to find it lots of times. Could never find it.”

  Stepping forward, David drops down onto the trail first, Sis and Abel following close behind. They walk with their right hands pressed against the rocks as tiny stones fall into the river far below.

  The cave’s jagged mouth opens before them. Looking inside, they follow the sound of trickling water as it echoes around the tunnel, its rocky sides glistening with a faint fungal glow.

  Abel sniffs at the cold air, the smell of damp rocks. Reaching the water, he slips off his boots and drops his socks and T-shirts into the water. David and Sis do the same as Abel fills up a pair of bottles, his hands burning against the icy flow.

  “It's really cold today,” David says.

  “Yep. We'd best get cleaned up. I always feel like I’ve got a layer of grime stuck to me after I've been on the roads.”

  Sis stands half-dressed, shivering and staring into the water. Her eyes well up with tears.

  “Hey,” Abel says. “What's up?”

  There's a long silence and Sis sniffs and splashes water against her face. “Becca.”

  “What happened to her?” David asks.

  “It's okay if you don't want to answer,” says Abel, shaking his head at David.

  “It's okay,” Sis says, swallowing. “I miss her.”

  “Was it raiders?” David asks.

  “We had a place. Three men come to take food and everything. Becca tried to fight them...” Sis's voice trails off and she takes in a long breath. “She made me hide in cupboard. They ripped her clothes and shoved into her. She kept screaming, and they kept laughing. They kept shoving into her and hitting her and then she stopped screaming.”

  Abel and David share a look, David's mouth gaping.

  “Really sorry to hear that, Sis. There are some horrible people out there.”

  “Was she dead?” David asks.

  Sis shakes her head and sighs. “That night she did. She made me go and then shot herself with rifle.”

  “And you've been alone ever since?” Abel asks.

  “Becca taught me to shoot. Men came back...” She shakes her head and looks into the water. “I kill them.”

  “Were they your first?”

  Sis nods. “I didn't want them to shove into me...” She slumps down onto a rock and looks up at Abel.

  “You don't have to justify yourself to me, Sis. You did what you had to.”

  “I'm glad you're not like them.”

  Abel lets out a bitter laugh. “Me too.”

  THE SUN HANGS LOW IN the sky, prickling the edges of feathery clouds with an orange glow. Sis stops a few metres ahead of Abel, crouching over something. She lingers over it for a moment, tilting her head.

  “What is it?” David asks.

  “Poo.”

  “So?”

  “Fresh.”

  Abel looks around, scanning beyond the highway. Bony pines stand in a haphazard cluster, stretching to the south until they meet the edge of a slow-movin
g stream. He walks over to Sis and looks down at the stool. “That's a dog's.”

  Sis turns to him, getting to her feet. “How can you tell?”

  “The smell, for one thing. Nothing else smells like that.”

  Sis pulls a rifle from over her shoulder, sweeping it in a broad arc to the south. She takes in a breath, holds it, and then pulls the trigger. The rifle cracks, its recoil pushing her shoulder back. “One dog,” she says, lowering the barrel and gesturing beyond the pines. “We should get it.”

  Abel raises a hand. “Wait,” he says. “You sure there aren't any more?”

  “I didn't see anything. We keep watch.”

  David looks up at the sky and then down towards where the dog lies. “We should try to find somewhere to camp. We can eat that dog.”

  Abel shakes his head and looks down at his hands. “You can, kid.”

  Sis hops off the highway's edge, and Abel and David follow. “Why you not want food?” Sis asks, turning to Abel as she shoulders her way between a pair of dead pines.

  “He had a word for it,” David says. He turns to Abel. “What's that word for when you do something, even though it might be stupid, but there's a meaning?”

  Abel shrugs a shoulder. “I don't know, kid.”

  “Sure you do. Sentimental. That's the word, isn't it?”

  Sis stops and looks back at David. “What you mean?”

  “Abel won't eat dogs because he used to have one.”

  “Food is food,” Sis says.

  Abel sighs and follows David through the trees, dipping his head as he passes a low-hanging branch. “It's not that simple, kid.”

  “Of course it is. Your dog died. You miss your dog. You won't eat dogs.” David tilts his head. “Isn't that being sentimental?”

  “It's still moving,” Sis says, kneeling next to the dog. She places a hand on its bloody grey fur, its breath wheezing through a bullet wound in its neck. She prods its mouth. “Sharp teeth.”

  “Damn it,” Abel mutters, crouching next to Sis. He cradles the dog’s head in his arms, squeezing it between his biceps and forearm. The dog twitches, its hind legs kicking as it gasps its final breath. Abel releases the head and looks around. “You want to gather some sticks, kid? Here's as good as anywhere to camp.”

  THE BUTCHERED DOG LIES next to the fire as Abel places its skinned hind legs onto a trio of stones arranged near the centre of the flames.

  “You sure you’re not going to eat?” David asks, sitting cross-legged with his back to the fire.

  Abel sighs and pats his backpack. “I got a tin.”

  “You know, without Trinity, you’re going to have to be less fussy about the type of meat we eat. This is good stuff.”

  “I still miss her,” Abel says, dropping his pack and crouching on bended knees. “I can't bring myself...”

  “It's not like you're actually eating Pip though, is it?” David meets Abel’s gaze.

  “Well, no.”

  “So, what is it?”

  Abel shrugs. “I don't know.”

  “Then you're being sentimental. It's that simple. You said yourself, Pip wasn't like these dogs.”

  “I suppose.” Abel lets out a sigh and reaches for a stick to poke the fire. “Just feels wrong.”

  David shakes his head. “It's up to you. If I were you, I think about winter. It's going to be even harder to get the food we need.”

  “I get it, kid. I'll try it.”

  David raises his eyebrows and smiles up at Abel. “Really?”

  “Yep. We need to do what we need to survive. Can't be holding on to sentimental things.”

  Sis turns the dog’s legs over on the fire, the flames hissing as the fat drips down. “Same with your code?”

  Abel licks his lips, his shoulders tensing. “That's not sentimental.”

  “Seems it to me.”

  “The code stays,” he snaps. “Change the subject.”

  Sis looks up at him, tears welling in her eyes. “I didn't mean...”

  Abel raises his hands and shakes his head, arms slumping to his sides. “Sorry, Sis. It's just this stuff with the king. I don't know what to think. I need to hold on to my code.”

  “Okay,” Sis whispers. “Sorry.”

  “Don't sweat it.” He turns to the flames and checks the nearest dog’s leg, raising it to his mouth and sniffing. “It does smell good,” he says with a half-smile. He takes a tentative bite and chews, letting the fat and the meat and the warmth fill his mouth. Swallowing, he hands the leg to David. “One step at a time, kid.”

  David smiles and takes a bite. “It's good,” he says between mouthfuls. “Thanks, Sis.” He swallows, passing the dog leg to Sis, and turns to Abel. “I was thinking about what that king said. What do you think he meant by protected zone?”

  “Who could say, kid?” Abel says, shrugging. “He's crazy.”

  “You think it's where they get all the tins?”

  Abel rubs his beard and takes another dog leg from the fire. “He’s calling Trinity Omar’s Kingdom. I'm sure he’s made up lots of names for places.”

  “I remember the Family used to talk about smuggling plez back to the other side.”

  “To the other side of what? The highway? The Grid? The city? Other side of the water?”

  “I don't know. How did they get that truck working? Where did they get guns? And bullets?”

  “I found mine,” Sis says. “Becca had gun. I got more.”

  Abel nods. “I've seen vehicles working before. It's rare, but I’ve seen it.”

  David shakes his head. “He mentioned a wall.”

  “So? There's walls everywhere.”

  “He made out like there was more. And the other people seem to know what he was on about.”

  “Right,” Abel says, taking a bite from the dog's leg.

  “I'm serious. It's like with the tins. Someone must be making them, right?”

  Abel shrugs. “I guess. Trinity gets them from the caravans.”

  “But where do the caravans get them from? We’ve found tins when we’ve been scavenging and most of them have been rusty. How come their ones are new?”

  “I don't know, kid,” Abel says, frustration edging his voice. “I don't know where the caravans go. Maybe there's a factory somewhere? The Family had a factory, right? Maybe someone is doing the same for tins.”

  David sighs. “Maybe.”

  19. The Cache

  The Grid’s rusted cars spread out before them as the glaring light from the afternoon sun warms their backs. Abel smiles at a group of Trinity’s residents sitting around a campfire, boiling water in tins and buckets. Abel walks over to Jacob's hut and raps on its side. He steps back when the door opens. “You're back,” Jacob says, stepping out.

  Abel looks Jacob up and down, tilting his head at the dark bags beneath his eyes. “You look terrible.”

  “Hardly slept since the Trinity lot arrived.” He stretches and yawns, his eyes wandering across the Grid.

  “You'll get used to the noise.”

  Jacob shakes his head. “It's not that. It's feeding everyone. There’s just not enough to go around.”

  “We’ve got our own food. I thought we could help out. I brought some tools.”

  “I've been running it all through my head, trying to work out how we can make this work.” Jacob bangs his fist against the side of his hut and sighs, his head drooping. “I can’t see a way through this.”

  “You don't have to put all this on yourself. People pull together in times like these.”

  “It's been chaos here. People have already started fighting. We’ve only got enough food for a few more days. The people who were here before are starting to get angry. I'm worried tensions are going to erupt into something serious.”

  “Has anything happened?”

  “Nothing major. A lot of little things. Just a feeling in the air.”

  “That's a real shame. I knew it was going to be difficult.”

  “Trinity should have been
better armed. Sal knew about the weapons for years. We could have used them.” Jacob’s lip curls as he glances across the car roofs towards Sal. “None of this would have happened if she’d just listened. She wanted nothing to do with it.”

  Abel tilts his head. “Weapons?”

  “A few of us had to bury them in a cache behind Trinity. Sal said the fence would protect us, that God would protect us.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “And here we are.”

  “And where are these weapons now?”

  “They’re still...” Jacob's eyes brighten. “We should get them. I know exactly where they are. Unless they've been digging around the back of the settlement, they should still be there.”

  Abel nods. “What kind of weapons are we talking?”

  Jacob shrugs. “It’s been a few years. I think a few rifles, mainly. Couple of shotguns. A lot of bullets, too many really.”

  “And you just left them buried?”

  “Sal didn't want weapons in Trinity. She thought it would cause problems.”

  Abel looks around. A group of residents from the Grid stand huddled next to a pickup truck, sending furtive glances towards Trinity's former residents. They whisper to each other, shaking their heads.

  “I'll come with you,” Abel says after a long moment.

  Jacob gives a confused look. “Come with me? Come with me, where?” He looks at Abel, eyebrows raised, throws his hands up, and shakes his head. “No, no, no. I'm not going back there. I've got all these people to look out for.”

  “Exactly. If you’re going to look out for these people, surely it’s better to have Trinity back to who it belongs to? You need to do this.”

  “Can’t someone else do it?”

  “Who else knows where the cache is?”

  Jacob shrugs. “Just Sal, I guess.”

  “You think Sal’s in any condition to be risking her life like that?.”

  “Running into danger is more your thing. I save people, not—”

  “My thing?” Abel snaps, shaking his head, fists clenched. “Risking someone’s life isn’t anyone's thing. When I have it’s been out of necessity, because not doing anything would be worse.” Lifting his chin, he meets Jacob’s gaze. “You can either do what's right, or you can live knowing that you're a coward.”

 

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