Wasteland Wonderland - Part 1

by James Harden

  Chapter 4

  I make my escape. I leave the building.

  I know the Enforcers and the Mercenaries are waiting for me. I know they have blocked off all the exits. But they don’t know all the exits. They don’t know this place like I know this place.

  So I leave this seedy hotel. I leave Ruby, dead and cold, covered by a sheet.

  I escape unseen.

  I move quickly because I know it won’t be long before they get sick of waiting, eventually they’ll figure out that I’ve given them the slip, eventually they’ll come looking, eventually they’ll tear that building apart in a desperate search for me.

  And when they don’t find me, they’ll come hunting, chasing.

  So I don’t have long.

  I need to keep moving. I need to speak to the only person I can trust right now. I need to talk about Wonderland Enforcers and murdered girls. I need to say these things out loud and get these crazy thoughts out of my head. Basically, I need someone to tell me that I’m not fucking insane, that the scene back in that seedy hotel room was real. That I did the right thing. That I’m fully and totally justified in getting my revenge and killing a whole lot of people in the process.

  My brother lives in one of the nicer parts of the Buried City. By nice I mean the water is usually flowing, the power is usually on, and the roaches and the rats aren’t so damn big. He chooses to live in the nicer part because he can. He can afford it and no one was going to tell him otherwise. And now that we’re both essentially retired, he’s got no use for hanging out in the rougher parts. He’s got no use for fraternizing with the rougher people.

  I make my way to his apartment. The door is locked but it makes no difference to me. I’ve known how to pick a lock before I could throw a punch.

  My brother is awake, sitting in a chair, drink in his hand.

  He was waiting for me.

  Or for someone.

  He turns a lamp on and I look away so as to not ruin my night vision.

  “You armed?” I ask.

  “Should I be?”

  “Probably.”

  I look over, initially blinded by the light. He shows me a hand held gun. A relic. An antique. A treasure worth more than our lives combined. Hell, the bullets contained within the magazine alone are worth more than our lives combined.

  “I’ve been seeing a lot of those things today,” I say.

  “In the hands of the Enforcers no doubt.”

  “And Mercenaries.”

  “Mercs don’t usually have guns.”

  “I guess someone is supplying them.”

  “That someone being from Wonderland.”

  “Why are you awake?” I ask. “Why have you got your back to the wall?”

  He puts the gun away, somewhere in the waist of his pants, somewhere near his knife. “A man came to see me yesterday.”

  “About what?”

  “He was asking about a girl. He knew I used to be a transporter. Back when we had people to transport. Thought I might have helped her.”

  “Helped her? With what?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me. Not at first. But it doesn’t take a genius to figure this out. She escaped from Wonderland. She stole something from the Collector.”

  Ruby. She was scared. She was on the run. No wonder she was hanging out in that bar, in that part of town. No wonder she wanted me in her room. Lot of good that did her.

  “What did she steal?” I ask.

  “He didn’t say. But does it really matter? You steal from the Collector, or from the Lord, your life is over.”

  “Why the hell would anyone steal from those guys?” I ask, thinking out loud. “Why would anyone want to escape from Wonderland? The risk, it’s not worth it. This doesn’t make any sense.”

  My brother shrugs his shoulders. “Beats me.”

  “No one chooses the Wasteland over Wonderland. I don’t care what you stole. I don’t care what you did. No one chooses the Wasteland.”

  “You’re pretty worked up over this. Mind telling me what happened?”

  “A man came to the bar last night, probably the same guy who came to see you. He was asking me about a girl. The girl.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I’ve never seen anyone like her before. I’ve never seen anyone with skin so smooth and soft. Hair like silk. She said her name was Ruby. She said she was from Wonderland. She said she knew secrets.”

  “You spoke with her?”

  I nod my head slowly.

  “What the hell did you do?” He asks this question even though he already knows the answer.

  “She was scared,” I say. “She was terrified.”

  “And you slept with her?”

  “She died in my arms. She’d been poisoned. Wasn’t no regular poison.”

  My brother pours himself another drink. He’s drinking from a bottle of whiskey. Another antique. He doesn’t offer me one. Probably because I look like shit. And probably because he doesn’t want to waste a priceless bottle of whiskey on a dead man.

  “And then the Enforcers showed up?” he asks.

  “Yeah. And the Mercs. They showed up before anyone but me could’ve known she was dead.”

  “She’s from Wonderland, Hector. They can track their people. That’s probably why she came here. The signal gets weaker underground. A lot weaker. Probably bought her some time.”

  “Not enough.”

  “Did you kill anyone?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Jesus. Why didn’t you cooperate?”

  “They were going to frame me for her death. They were going to put it all on me.”

  “How do you know that? They weren’t after you. They wanted the girl.”

  “They had guns. They were out for blood.”

  “Did you kill Mercs or Enforcers?”

  “Both.”

  “They’ll Exile you for this. Or worse.”

  “I’ve been Exiled before. I’m not afraid.”

  “That was years ago. It’s hotter now. A lot hotter. And you’re not getting any younger.”

  “You really think anyone is gonna enforce an Exile on me?”

  “Yes. I do. And if you don’t cooperate, if you don’t go peacefully, they’ll put people in place, in the Canyons, in this city. They’ll have guards and patrols. They’ll be armed to the teeth. They’ll punish anyone who helps you. They’ll isolate you. That’s how they do it. That’s how they win. They have more people. More guns. They have the tech. There’s no surviving this. Not unless we go to them immediately. We go to them and we explain that it was all a misunderstanding. We need to start cooperating. We need to start calling in all the favors we spent years working for.”

  My younger brother, the hard man of the Buried City, has gone soft on me. That’s what retirement will do to a person. That’s what living in a nice apartment will do to a person.

  Drinking priceless whiskey.

  Having regular showers.

  “There’s no talking my way out of this,” I say. “The Wonderland Enforcers, the Lord, the Collector, they’re out for blood. This girl, she knew something. Something big. Something that got her killed. She came to me for protection, she could’ve just as easily have found you.”

  “Hector, I got a job. Came from the top. If you cooperate, we can clear your name, we can start working again. But if you refuse, I can’t help you with this.”

  “A job? What kind of job? No one’s been processed in years.”

  “That’s all about to change. The Shuttles are almost here. I’m taking people from the Canyons and the Buried City into Wonderland. I’m getting paid a small fortune. I’m sorry. But I can’t help you.”

  “Don’t you think the timing of this is a little suspicious? They knew I’d come to you. They knew you had nothing to lose, that you’d help me. That together we’d be that much harder to stop. You had nothing to lose, so they gave you something to lose.”

  “They showed me the proximity of the Shuttles. They’re g
etting closer. It’s nearly time.”

  He has his head lowered. He can’t look me in the eye.

  “I don’t need your help,” I say. “I don’t need anyone’s help.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to find out what Ruby knew. I’m going to find out what got her killed. And then, I’m going to get a whole lot of revenge.”

  “You should make peace with the Red Giant.”

  “I already have.”

  My brother finishes his drink and stares at the empty glass.

  No one says anything for a while.

  And then I say, “When you go up, watch out for Raiders. Those bastards are getting desperate.”

  I say this because I’m unable to say goodbye.

  He nods. He knows to be careful. He knows the dangers. It’s why he’s the best at what he does.

  “When I get Exiled,” I say. “Come visit me in the Wasteland.”

  Before I leave, he throws me his gun. A treasure, a priceless and deadly antique. He throws me two extra magazines.

  He says, “Don’t you dare waste those bullets.”