by Eric Vall
This must have been some sort of office building before Doomsday.
I spent the next few minutes walking around, opening up the desk drawers. Finally, on the seventh one I checked, I found a small spool of yarn.
It wasn’t anything near industrial strength, but it would do the trick.
“Alright,” I whispered as I headed back out into the alley. “I’ve got rope. Now what?”
Karla walked me through the whole process of stringing up the trap. She explained how I needed to set up the deadly board with a release mechanism that would be activated when somebody stepped through the tensioned string. We eventually settled on using some old rat traps I’d found in the alley for the release mechanism, and it was quite ingenious.
I tied the yarn taut around two giant hunks of concrete on each side of the alley, picked up the rest of my gear, and headed over to the fire escape. It was rusted out and somewhat unstable, but I was able to make my way up without much of an incident.
Once I was on the roof of the building, I could finally see just how extensive the damage from the nuclear blast had been.
The once-sprawling metropolis of Chicago was now nothing but ashes, rubble, and decay. Skyscrapers were missing their entire top halves, overpasses had completely crumbled away, and there was nothing but silence in the air.
There wasn’t even wind.
In Chicago.
It was eerie, to say the least.
Everything alright? Karla questioned through the microchip.
“Yeah,” I muttered as I shook it off. “What’s next?”
Karla walked me through the process of creating the release mechanism and, about ten minutes later, voila.
I had a working trip-wire trap.
But that wasn’t going to be enough. Even if one of them were to activate it, the thing would only take out one or two of them at the most.
I needed something else.
I had the bow and arrow, but there were still six of them and only one of me.
Maybe I could take out the archers and then try and run? Then at least I wouldn’t need to worry about getting shot in the back…
Talk to me, Hunter, Karla demanded. You’re being awfully quiet.
“What’s a good way to take out a bunch of enemies all at once?” I asked bluntly.
Something large, usually something that’s beyond the scope of a simple trap, she pondered aloud. Something like an explosion or a rock slide or running them over with a semi or something similar.
I’d seen a few vehicles on my journey, but I highly doubted any of them still ran. So, smashing the mutants with a semi was pretty much out of the question.
Then it hit me. I was literally standing in a city of rubble.
“Crazy question,” I prefaced, “but could I bring a building down on them?”
In theory, yes, Karla noted. But that would take a lot of firepower, which you don’t have.
“Wait!” I gasped. “Fire. That’s it!”
As I began to climb down the fire escape, it all became clear.
I couldn’t run these guys over or blow them up or even bury them under a pile of rubble.
But I could set them on fire.
Sounds like you have a plan? Karla mused.
“I do,” I chuckled as I planted my feet down on the ground and made my way toward the other side of the alleyway.
I entered the office building once more, went over to one of the desks, and yanked out the largest drawer. Then I headed back outside, went to the end of the alley, and looked around for mutants.
The coast seemed to be clear.
Then, just across the road, I saw the broken facade of an establishment named Pippin’s Pub.
A bar. That would do perfectly.
I rushed over to it, shoved open the door, and then stumbled inside the darkened building.
A few beams of sunlight trickled in through the windows, and all sorts of dust and tiny debris floated through its rays. Many of the tables and chairs had been completely destroyed by fallen brick and steel, and the bar on the far side of the building looked like it was rotting away by the second. The wall behind the bar, where the alcohol was normally stored, had been completely smashed.
However, I could see there were still a few bottles cluttered around the floor.
I walked over and began to inspect the debris. Much to my surprise, there were several bottles of alcohol that still contained the glorious nectar.
I wouldn’t have drank it on a dare, but it would do more than fine as a catalyst for a fire.
One by one, I started to pop off the lids on the bottles and pour it into the desk drawer. I didn’t discriminate, either, as long as it was over a hundred-twenty proof. Whiskey, tequila, vodka… It all went into the drawer to form a dark, deadly cocktail.
Once I had enough for my plan to work, I walked back across the street to the alleyway, dumped the alcohol on the ground, and watched as it spread out across the asphalt like the wave of a tsunami.
Next, I removed the walkie talkie from my belt, turned the volume all the way up, and then placed it smack-dab in the center of the backstreet.
Finally, I climbed back up the fire escape, sat down on my knees, and waited.
Are you sure this is going to work? Karla implored.
“Nope,” I chuckled. “But it beats trying to outrun these guys. My legs will thank me later.”
I just hope they’ll show before nightfall, the voice sighed. If you’re still out there--
“Yeah, yeah.” I shrugged. “My chances of survival go down a lot. That’s why I’m just gonna hope this plan works.”
I sat there for a few more minutes, and then I heard the sound of the walkie talkie down below. The voice on the other end echoed like a clap of thunder, and I was sure anyone within a half a mile could hear it going off.
Then I heard a gargled cry from just a few blocks away.
Showtime.
Not five minutes later, I saw the patrol of mutants dashing toward my position.
The one at the front of the pack had his own walkie talkie, and he was speaking into it as he ran. His voice echoed through the alley from my end like a beacon of sound guiding the mutant squad back to it.
When they finally reached the alleyway, the first mutant made a mad dash toward the device.
However, he found my trip wire first.
There was a quick “thwip,” and then the rebar-filled board swung down like a trap door being released. The jagged metal struck the mutant directly in the chest and punctured all the way through his body.
He fell down onto the ground and floundered in pain as blood pooled all around his body.
The rest of the team suddenly went on high alert as they held their weapons at the ready. The archers began to look upward, and I had to duck down to avoid being seen.
Beside me was an old beer bottle I’d found in the garbage, filled with alcohol. I’d ripped off a piece of my shirt and stuck it inside as a makeshift wick.
Come on… Come just a little closer…
Finally, the remaining five mutants were fully inside the alley.
I picked up a chunk of concrete in one hand and the steel knife I’d snagged from the mutant in the other.
This was probably the most inconvenient way I’d ever tried to start a fire, but it was all I had. Usually, you needed pure flint or quartzite to make this work, but the rocky material in my hand was the closest I could find. So, I took a deep breath and then quickly struck the knife against the stone.
A small spark flew from the impact, but it didn’t ignite.
Even worse, it made a way louder sound than I’d thought it was going to.
“Iktuna?” I heard one of the mutants growl three stories below me.
Shit.
I struck it again, and nothing.
Now, I dared to look over the side of the roof. Down in the alley, the mutants were well aware of my presence, and two of them were headed for the fire escape with looks of pure rage plast
ered on their faces.
Double shit.
I rock and steel together again, but the Molotov cocktail didn’t light.
Come on, you bitch.
I slammed the two objects together, and this time it created a spark. The tiny speckle of a flame hit the fabric of the t-shirt, glowed, and then began to spread.
Hallelujah.
I picked up the bottle, stood to my feet, and looked down at the mutants in the alley below.
They looked over at me and snarled, and then the archers raised their weapons.
Too bad they were too late.
I dropped the Molotov cocktail over the side of the building and watched as the mutants realized what was about to happen.
They tried to run away, but within seconds, the bottle smashed against the alcohol-covered ground and lit it up like a Christmas tree. The mutants screamed in pain as the flames rose up the sides of the building and completely engulfed them in its deadly embrace, and they continued to scream as they ran out into the streets, where they tried in vain to put themselves out.
Within seconds, they were all dead.
“Yes!” I fist-pumped into the air.
I assume that means it worked? Karla asked.
Suddenly, I heard the building groan beneath my feet, and I peered over the ledge. The flames were roaring and intense, and they were now rising up the side of the building.
“Welp,” I sighed, “I probably should have seen that coming.”
I ran over to the main roof entrance, flung it open, and then dashed down the stairs. Many of them were crumbling away and broken, but I had to keep pushing forward as quickly as I could. I hopped over a few gaps in the stairs and then followed them until I reached the first floor.
The room was completely filled with a thick, black smoke, so I fell down onto my knees and covered my mouth with my hand. This was the same building that was missing most of its west side, so I was able to find my way out pretty easily before the smoke inhalation overwhelmed me.
Once I was back outside, I jumped to my feet and took off down the street until I was at a safe distance. Then I turned around and admired my handiwork from afar.
“Hunter, seven… Mutants, zero,” I chuckled.
I will admit, Karla mused, I am impressed. Good job, Hunter. Now, don’t get complacent. Those were not the only mutants in the city, you know.
“Right.” I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “At least this gives me some time before--”
Suddenly, I heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. I ducked behind a larger pile or rubble and then watched as a silver dune buggy with a massive machine gun on its back approached from the south. It was traveling at a breakneck speed, intent on getting to wherever the hell it was going as quickly as possible.
Then I noticed who was driving.
It was a human.
Against my better judgement, I stepped out of my hiding place, walked out onto the road, and waved at the vehicle.
Its brakes screeched against the road as it slowed down and then rolled to a stop about fifty feet away from me.
Behind the wheel was a beautiful woman with long, corn-blonde hair. She was wearing green combat pants with dozens of pockets, as well as a denim jacket over a dirty white tank top. The jacket was covered from head to toe with all sorts of colorful patches, and its sleeves had been completely ripped off.
Manning the machine gun was a burly-looking dude with a black beard that would make ZZ Top jealous. He was wearing a more militaristic uniform, a black helmet, and fatigues meant for urban combat.
“I told you it was another human,” the blonde woman noted to her friend. “The Rubberfaces don’t just scream out ‘Iktuna!’ for no reason.”
“Who are you?” I asked as my jaw dropped, and the blonde woman turned back to me and scowled.
“The people who are about to save your ass,” she scoffed and then nodded to the flames. “Is that your handiwork?”
“Sure is!” I announced with a large grin.
“Don’t act so excited,” the woman warned. “Every single mutant in the city is going to see that, and do you know what they’ll do? They’re all gonna come here. And when they do that, we’re all fucked.”
“I--Uh--” I tried to think of words to say, but nothing was coming out.
At the same time, there was a faint beeping noise that arose in my ears. It wasn’t very loud, more like the sound of a buzzing mosquito. However, I didn’t have much time to figure out where it was coming from.
“Just get in.” The blonde nodded to the empty seat beside her. “Quickly, before the entire Rubberface population of this place is on us.”
Hunter? Karla’s voice asked. What’s happening?
“I’m not sure,” I admitted as I ran over to the dune buggy, hoisted myself into the seat, and buckled my seatbelt. “All I know is things are about to get a lot more interesting.”
Chapter 5
What do you mean, “interesting?” Karla’s voice demanded in my earpiece.
“You might want to hold on to something,” the woman behind the steering wheel warned.
Then she slammed her foot down onto the gas pedal, and there was a loud squeal of tires against asphalt as the wheels spun out and shot us off down the road.
I grabbed onto the sidebar of the dune buggy just as we lurched forward, but I still felt my insides jump back against my spine from the sudden motion. Then the wind suddenly picked up and sent me into a fit of shivering.
I’d only been to the Windy City a few times in my life, but apparently post-apocalyptic Chicago was just as biting cold as it was in my timeline.
Hunter? We really need to work on your communication skills, Karla grumbled. I thought you said Pest Control Technicians had to be good at that sorta thing?
“I am,” I hissed as quietly as I could, “but I’m kinda in the middle of a dune buggy going over one-hundred right now, surrounded by two people I don’t even know.”
So, you have made contact with other humans? Karla sounded relieved. Thank the stars. I was worried you wouldn’t make it out of the city on your own.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I grumbled.
“Excuse me?” the blonde woman spoke up.
“Oh, nothing,” I chuckled. “Just thanks for saving my ass, that’s all.”
“I wouldn’t thank me yet,” she stated without even looking over. “We’re far from being out of the woods.”
“What are you talking about?” I questioned. “I thought I just killed all the mutants in this area?”
Both the woman and the man in the dune buggy shot me a look of disbelief. It was a look I’d seen many times before, usually from middle-aged women who thought they knew how to do my job better than me.
It was the look of “is this guy serious?”
“Do--Do you have any idea where you are?” the woman in the denim jacket asked as we whipped around a corner.
“Chicago, right?” I retorted.
“This land hasn’t been called that since I was a little girl,” the woman explained as she raised an eyebrow. “That was what my parents always referred to it as, but those of us in the Nuclear Generation know it as ‘The Fallen Lands.’”
“Or ‘Mutantopolis,’” the man on the gun interjected over the sound of the rushing wind. “I’ll give you three guesses why we call it that.”
I didn’t even need one. Dr. Nash and Karla had mentioned this was the hotbed of mutant activity, and the name only solidified my hunch that I was smack-dab in the heart of their territory.
“You killed a small patrol,” the short-haired blonde woman went on, “but the Fallen Lands act as the home of every Rubberface in the greater Smoulder.”
“Uh, I’m not from here… ” I admitted. “What exactly is the Smoulder?”
The blonde woman rolled her eyes.
“How old are you, exactly?” she grumbled. “You look like you’re the same age as me, but you keep talking like you’re eighty years old. T
he Smoulder is what the old fogeys would have called ‘The Midwest.’”
Uff-dah. Dr. Nash and Karla had mentioned this was a hotbed of the mutant activity, but every single mutant in the Midwest?
That was a lot. And apparently I had just lit the beacon that would call them to our position.
“Why would they come after a giant fire like that?” I asked. “Doesn’t that kind of thing happen all the time around here, with lightning hitting abandoned buildings and debris and all that?”
“Is this guy for real, Natalie?” the man sighed. “Or did we fall into a bed of Radon’s Bane?”
“Please,” the woman, Natalie, chuckled. “If we’d fallen into Radon’s Bane, we’d both be writhing around in a radiation-induced coma right now. I don’t know what kind of visions we’d be having, but it certainly wouldn’t be this guy.”
I didn’t know whether to be offended or not. Mostly because I had no idea what they were talking about.
“So… ” I began, but Natalie cut me off with a wave of her hand.
“I don’t know where you come from,” she noted, “but it’s becoming more and more obvious you don’t know much about the Fallen Lands. Or the Rubberfaces. Or, well, anything, for that matter. Mutants are like moths. They’re attracted to large, glowing objects, mostly because it reminds them of the radiation that birthed them. And you put on quite the explosion back there. I wouldn’t be surprised if--Shit!”
As we came around another corner, Natalie slammed on the breaks, and I thought my seatbelt was going to be ripped straight out of my body.
Before us were a large group of mutants, lumbering right toward us like a horde of mindless zombies. Unfortunately, though, these things were anything but mindless.
“Iktunar!” one of them cried out as they pointed.
Unlike the patrol I’d encountered before, several of these hideous creatures were carrying guns. As they took aim at us, Natalie put the dune buggy in reverse, turned it around in a flash, and then jetted off in the opposite direction.
Gunshots rang out behind us as we drove, and the woman in the driver’s seat began to swerve like mad. At the same time, the man in the back flipped the large machine gun around so it was facing our rear and opened fire.