Boneyards & Badlands: The Complete FTW Series

by Morgan Hobbes

  Barred windows and thick stone walls. Apart from the missing door this place would be impregnable.

  Those in our group with guns scout it out first to make sure it’s safe. They return after a few minutes without incident so we camp inside for the night. We discuss a roster of keeping watch, and the first shift takes their position.

  They give me the night off from watch. Maliah says I need to rest my ankle and getting up halfway through the night won’t help it. As much as I’d like to help on watch, I’m grateful for the rest.

  I get as comfortable as I can on the cold, stone floor and stretch out. My feet and legs immediately thank me, and while my ankle throbs, it’s not enough to worry me.

  Stilwell shuffles around somewhere to my right, trying to get comfortable with his pack for a pillow. I flick the switch of my flashlight and the inside of the building turns pitch black.

  My mind wanders as I lie there in the dark. Where is Echo? I miss her so much that just thinking about her in the clutches of FTW hurts my chest. I have to push her out of my mind and trust I’ll see her again if I am to get through this.

  I focus on the dark, emptying my mind and concentrating on the sound of my breathing.

  I’m sure within seconds I’m asleep.

  Morning comes around way too quick.

  I’m used to waking up at the crack of dawn, so when I wipe the sleep from my eyes I’m not surprised to find I’m the only one awake, except for the sentry keeping watch. He turns when he hears me stirring and I see it’s Nils, the other guy who helped pull me free yesterday.

  I get up and shuffle over to him as quiet as I can. My ankle is stiff but doesn’t ache too much, so I’m hoping that’s a good sign. Nils nods at me as I sit next to him.

  He’s older than me by about ten years from what I can gather. Completely bald on top but makes up for it with a beard that reaches halfway down his chest.

  “Hey, I didn’t get a chance yesterday, but thanks for saving me.”

  “No bother at all,” he says. “We look out for one another. We have to. Nobody else will,” he says, a raspy laugh escaping him.

  Half an hour later and everyone is awake and ready to leave. Maliah waits until we’re all assembled, then clears her throat.

  “People. Today will be much harder than yesterday. We’re deep into the Badlands now, which mean we’re likely to run into trouble. But bandits aren’t the only thing to worry about. It’s hot and dry, and we’ve a long trek ahead of us. Keep your wits about you and you will make it through alive. Understood?”

  “Understood,” everyone replies in unison.

  “Good, then let’s get moving,” she says and marches through the door.

  Maliah wasn’t wrong about the heat. The morning wasn’t too bad, but as the day wore on and the sun rose higher into the sky, we could feel it intensifying. Even midday in the boneyards wasn’t this bad. When I ask Stilwell about it he shrugs.

  “It’s FTW’s fault,” Nils says from behind us.

  “What is? The heat?” I ask him over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, those air scrubbers they have on every building that clean the air? They don’t just do that.”

  “What else do they do?”

  “They keep us needing them. Back before FTW took over it used to rain. Everywhere, like all over the world. It hasn’t rained in decades. Longer than you or I or even Maliah have been alive. They don’t just control the air, they control the water as well. The two most basic things every person needs and they have the monopoly on them. The scrubbers clean the air and stop the rain.”

  We walk on in silence for a few minutes.

  “How do you know all of this?” I ask, eventually.

  “Maliah told me. It’s one of the reasons we’re heading out here,” Nils replies, then lowers his voice to a whisper. “Word has it we have a way to break FTW’s grip on the world and bring back the rain.”

  I raise my eyebrows at him, prompting him to tell me more but he shakes his head.

  “Not now, Kara. All will be explained in good time.”

  And leaving me with that puzzle he quickens his step and joins Maliah towards the front of our group. In my mind I turn over what Nils had said.

  There’s something out here in the Badlands that’ll help end FTW. But what? Everything out here is dead.

  I ponder this in silence while we walk on for another half hour. Stilwell’s tap on my shoulder breaks me out of a trance I didn’t realize I had fallen into. With the repetitive sound of boots marching on earth I had zoned out.

  “What?” I ask him, but then I see it. “Oh.”

  Right in front of us and stretching as wide as the eye can see is a gigantic chasm. As we get closer to it and catch up with the rest of our group, I can see it’s at least one hundred yards across to the other side.

  “The good news,” Maliah says, her voice raised above the strong winds near the edge, “is we’re almost at our goal. The bad news, if you’re afraid of heights, is this is the only way across.”

  She moves to one side and reveals a rope bridge that spans the chasm. It sways back and forth in the strong breeze and doesn’t look at all safe.

  “Is that safe?” I ask.

  “Of course it is. I wouldn’t have come this way if it wasn’t.”

  “So there’s another way across?” I ask, hoping beyond hope I won’t have to cross it.

  Maliah laughs.

  “Sure, just walk about one week in that direction,” she says, pointing off to her left. “Then of course one week to get back. By that time though we’ll be long gone.”

  “Ah...” I say, somewhat embarrassed.

  “We’ll be with you all the way,” Stilwell says and Nils nods in agreement.

  “Come on, no time to waste,” Maliah says and strides onto the bridge.

  Stilwell and Nils push me forward and my feet find their own way. I step onto the first plank and hold my breath. Stilwell puts a hand on my shoulder and together we walk forward. The bridge lurches a little beneath our feet.

  “Just don’t look down,” he says.

  I close my eyes and grab the ropes and will myself to walk. Step by step we move forward, and before too long Stilwell tells me we’re half the way across.

  I open one eye and straight away regret doing so. Standing in the center I can see how much the bridge sways from side to side. My stomach lurches but I keep it together.

  “Come on, you can make it,” Stilwell says, encouraging me from behind. “You don’t have a choice anyway,” he adds. “The bridge isn’t wide enough for us to pass you and leave you here,” he says and then laughs.

  “Hilarious,” I say.

  He presses on my shoulder again and we move forward. Maliah is almost at the other side. She has stopped about twelve feet from the end of the bridge and is looking back at us, impatience showing on her face.

  Once we catch up, her demeanor softens and she smiles at me.

  “Well done, I knew you-”

  A loud click, like a gun being cocked, cuts her off. She turns around slowly and I peek over her shoulder.

  “Shit,” I whisper. “Bandits.”

  Stilwell’s head appears next to mine as he leans in to see what’s happening. He expresses the same thought as I did.

  “Greetings fellow wanderers of the Badlands,” the man closest to us says. “My name’s Hank, or if you prefer, Hank the Bastard.” He’s holding a gun trained straight at Maliah. “Nice day to be out for a walk, no?”

  He’s not alone, and not the only one armed. There are five of them, two standing either side so they form a kind of “V” shape. The two closest to him hold machetes. The others have guns similar to their leader’s.

  All five of them are wearing collars I’ve seen before. I’ve even worn one myself. They’re the explosive kind we wore during the Death Match. I find myself wondering if they’re former contestants or unwanted prisoners.

  I shake the thought from my head. Now isn’t the time to lose focus.


  Each of the men in front of us is sunburnt and caked in dirt. Whatever hardships life has thrown at them outside the walls of the city hasn’t hurt their physique any. They’re bulging with muscle so somehow are well fed.

  There’s no apparent source of food out here, and given the way the one in front is looking at us, I suspect we might be it.

  Maliah clears her throat and speaks for us.

  “It’d be nicer if we could get off this bridge,” she says. I’m impressed at the level of calm she keeps in her voice.

  Hank chuckles but his gun doesn’t waver.

  “I can see why you’d think that. But see, there is one minor issue we need to address before you can,” he says.

  From behind me I can hear whispered conversation.

  “I see,” Maliah says. “And what would that be?”

  “There’s a toll on this bridge, see. Help pay for its upkeep and the like,” Hank says, grinning at us through blackened teeth. “Pass us everything you’re carrying, and you can leave the bridge unharmed. Don’t, and well...”

  The two men with machetes move forward and hold them against the ropes of the bridge. Now they’re closer I see their eyes look almost glassy, as if in some kind of trance. They don’t look at all with it. It’s like they’re not even looking at us, more through us.

  Maliah exhales at Hank’s demand, then turns to face us. The resignation on her face is obvious. We’ll be meeting their demands.

  “Do as they ask,” she says. “Hand your things down the line, slowly.”

  People behind me grumble but they comply. Packs and weapons get passed from person to person. When they’re handed to me and I turn and pass them to Maliah, something cold and hard slips down into the back of my pants. My shirt is then pulled over the top of it.

  I turn back to get the next pack passed along and Stilwell winks at me. I nod and continue passing our gear forward to our extortioners.

  Maliah tosses each pack so they land in a rough group besides the men. The next pack I’m handed is heavier than the others so far, and when I hand it to Maliah, she changes her grip. This time she tosses it straight at Hank and hits him square in the face.

  Taking the cue I reach back and grab the gun stuffed down the back of my pants. Maliah pulls her weapon and drops to the bridge. I do the same. We need to get out of the way of people behind us.

  The first crack rings out, followed by two more.

  One of Maliah’s goes wide. Hank tries to dodge the second but when it slams into his shoulder, it causes him to spin and drop to the ground. I aim to the right and fire at the man holding the machete to the rope.

  I’m close enough that accuracy doesn’t mean much. I squeeze the trigger and pump three into his stomach.

  He drops at the same time as the one on the left. Someone behind me has picked him off.

  “Return fire you idiots,” Hank screams at his men.

  The two remaining men snap out of whatever daze they were in and open fire. Bullets spew towards us.

  The sound is almost deafening. My hands cover my head automatically in some attempt at self-preservation.

  Someone behind me screams and falls from the bridge. The twang of a rope snapping followed by another makes my heart jump into my throat. Bullets crack into the timber boards of the bridge.

  I chance a look back. Stilwell and Nils are cowering behind me. Behind them is a blood bath.

  Another twang as more rope lets go under the volley of bullets. I do the only thing I can think of. I toss the gun off the bridge and grab onto a timber board with every ounce of strength I have.

  A second later a rope snaps and we pitch sickeningly to the right. The last remaining rope is severed, and the bridge falls away and carries us with it.

  Screams come from behind me as others plummet to their deaths. I clutch the board with everything I have and we slam into the wall of the chasm.

  Stilwell grunts and Nils curses as we hit the wall. Maliah above me hangs on by one hand, the other scrabbling for purchase.

  The board she’s holding breaks, and she slips towards me. She grabs the next one as she falls and it halts her descent.

  “You guys okay down there?” I call down to Stilwell and Nils.

  “Never better, thanks,” Stilwell wheezes.

  “I’m hanging on,” Nils calls out.

  “Use the boards like a ladder,” Maliah calls down to us. “You should be able to climb up, it’s not far.”

  From the top of the cliff the face of Hank leans over and grins at us. He’s pressing a hand against the shoulder Maliah put a bullet through, but otherwise he looks fine.

  “Take your time,” he says, grinning through his disgusting teeth.

  He makes a kind of choking sound then hawks a glob of phlegmy, bloody spit at us. Fortunately it sails over our heads into the abyss below.

  As we crawl to safety, the men don’t move their guns from us. Hank waves the end of his gun around as if to indicate I’m supposed to do something. Maliah has her hands raised high in the air so I assume he wants me to do the same.

  Stilwell and Nils finally make it to the top. Taking their cue from us they also raise their hands. We’ve no choice but to surrender. We’re clearly out-gunned.

  “You made us waste a lot of good meat there,” Hank says.

  None of us say a word.

  “Got nothin’ to say?” he says.

  Maliah clears her throat.

  “W-what are you going to do to us?” she asks.

  Hank smirks at us and scratches at the stubble on his chin as if deep in thought.

  “Well... I did say if you handed over your stuff I’d let you get off the bridge unharmed... and I guess I’ve done that.”

  I shoot a confused look at Stilwell and Nils, and they look back at me equally perplexed. Are we really going to walk away from this?

  “So, we’re free to go?” Maliah says and slowly lowers her arms.

  Hank laughs at her.

  “Hell no! You’re coming with us. You’re on the menu tonight. Fresh meat is always the tastiest,” he says and then licks his lips.

  “But you said we’d be unharmed.”

  “Don’t be calling me a liar, miss,” Hank spits at Maliah. “You’re off the bridge now. Safe and sound, just like I said. Now is a different matter. You killed two of my men and let’s not forget YOU SHOT ME.” He turns his attention to Stilwell and Nils. “You boys look strong. You’re in charge of dragging them back to camp. No point in letting them go to waste. Don’t forget their gear.”

  Stilwell and Nils nod and squat down. They pick up the machetes the bandits had been holding and put them back into their sheaths. As they stand from their squatted position, Stilwell and Nils grab the dead bandits by their boots and get ready to drag them.

  “Igg and Ook here will make sure you don’t fall behind, won’t you fellas?” Hank says.

  The two bandits with guns grunt and grumble under their breath as they walk past me. Most of it is intelligible, but I’m sure one of says, “Not Igg. Not Ook. Asshole.”

  They also have glazed eyes, much like the guys who had the machetes. They stare at nothing as if in a trance, but I’ve no doubt they’d turn on us in an instant. They reacted fast enough when their leader ordered them to shoot us.

  “Now, get moving. I’m hungry,” Hank says.

  “Which way?” Maliah asks.

  Hank points off into the distance and Maliah and I trudge off in that direction. Hank falls in behind and keeps his gun trained on us. Stilwell and Nils bring up the rear, followed by not Igg and not Ook.

  They lead us a short distance to a building much like the one we slept in last night. All the windows are smashed, so once we get inside there’s a fair amount of light.

  It doesn’t take me long to wish there wasn’t though. In one corner there’s a makeshift cage which at first glance looks to contain the remains of some poor soul.

  Until it moves.

  The buzzing of a thousand flies erup
ts as they’re startled into flight. The figure in the cage scrapes its body along the floor into a sitting position.

  A man, or what’s left of one, stares out at us through the bars. One of his arms and both legs are missing, just charred stumps in their place. Stark naked, he’s missing chunks of flesh all over his body with each cauterized by fire.

  If he wasn’t sitting there looking at me, I wouldn’t believe someone like that could be alive.

  “Move, meat,” Hank says, jabbing a gun into my back. “Join old Stumpy over there by his cage. Don’t worry. He’s ‘armless.” He laughs at his own joke.

  Maliah and I shuffle towards the cage. Behind us more footsteps and dragging noises let us know Stilwell and Nils have arrived.

  “Chain yourself up. Around the ankles and wrists if you’d be so kind,” Hank says.

  “Do as he says,” Maliah whispers to me. “Play nice, be patient until you can see an opportunity. No point getting beat up before then.”

  I nod and we find chains and shackles on the floor. The smell this close to the cage is revolting. Dried blood, piles of shit, and thousands of flies. I try to take shallow breaths as I pick up a shackle and snap it around my ankle.

  I want to move as far from the cage as I can, but the chain is short and I’m kept within three feet of it.

  The stench is making me gag. Flies are swarming all over me. I swat them away from covering my eyes. They’re all over me, trying to enter my mouth and nostrils. Maliah I notice is doing the same.

  The half-dead guy in the cage seems resigned to his fate, the flies not bothering him at all. Just when I think it can’t get any worse he opens his mouth and lets the flies swarm in. He then snaps his mouth shut and chews.

  It takes everything I have to not vomit.

  When he sees we’re both secured to the cage, Hank turns his attention to Stilwell and Nils, and orders them to do the same.

  “Leave the bodies where they are,” he adds, and Stilwell and Nils drop the legs they were dragging them by and join us in Hell.

  Hank relaxes once we’re all chained to the cage. He leers at us, his upper lip pulling back in an evil grin which exposes the top row of his blackened teeth.