by Quil Carter
“You –” she choked, her yellowing eyes squinting. “I… I know you!”
I laughed and was about to tell her it was alright when to my shock her fucking head exploded with a deafening, ear-splitting crack.
I whirled around as the noise echoed in the canyons, grabbing my M16 as I did. I thought one of them had been aiming for me but missed, but to my further confusion…
Asher had his combat shotgun in his grasp. I watched as a puff of smoke and another loud crack sounded. The old man went down.
I held my M16 to my side and rained bullets into the remaining three. I managed to empty half a clip into their heads before they dropped lifelessly to the wasteland floor.
As the gunshot echoes faded around us, we both fell silent. Our eyes were fixed on the lifeless wasters, their gaping bullet wounds running blood down their bodies into the grey dirt below, the pools getting larger as specks of dirt and grass filled the edges.
Asher’s head rose and so did mine; we locked eyes. I stared at him for a moment, my ears still ringing from the blast.
“Why did you do that!?”
Asher gave me the most bullshit innocent look he could muster. He looked behind him and pointed. “One of them has a dirt bike.”
“So!?” I said exasperated.
“I wanted it.” Asher gave me a look like it was the most stupidly obvious answer in the world.
I stared at him again. He stared back.
We both broke into laughter.
After we had a good laugh together, I hitched my gun and walked inside the gas station. I stepped over the old woman’s corpse and kicked her head. “We won’t have room to bring the carcasses to Aras. They don’t have enough meat on them to make them worth it either. Anyway Greyson would shit himself if I brought arians and Killian would recognize this broad.”
Asher walked in front of me and headed for the utility closet.
“Too bad there weren’t any ravers, but eh, what are you gonna do?” I shrugged. I would miss the money. I had told Matt to expect a few newly bolted rats. I’d have to come back empty-handed in that respect.
“Let’s gather my shit and we can roast a few pieces on the flames at least, see how much flesh we can carry back,” Asher suggested. I heard him rummaging in the utility closet. “I miss earning my own food… ah, there it is!” He gave out a relieved sigh. “It’s still locked, perfect.”
I jumped over a makeshift bed, just a smelly mattress on the ground surrounded by tin cans, garbage, and bones. God, wasters lived like animals.
I helped Asher drag his crate to the front of the plaza. It was the size of any normal supply crate and would fit nicely on the back of the quad, especially if Asher was going to ride the dirt bike home.
I took one last look around the small cache town to make sure it really was empty and started hauling the crate up to the quad.
Asher was checking out the dirt bike.
“It has almost a full tank too. You can have it, Reaver; you’re risking your ass coming with me anyway.” Asher started wheeling the bike towards the small campfire. It was a good-looking bike; it even still had flecks of its original blue paint.
“Nah, I have Reno’s quad.” And the quad I had stolen from the factory, though that was still in holding until we could refurbish it to not to look like a legion vehicle. I wasn’t going to tell Asher that, though I did trust him in a lot of ways, I didn’t trust anyone with the knowledge that I had blown up the Typhus Canyon factory. “You keep it, and I’ll borrow it whenever I want, alright?”
There was a roar as Asher kick started the bike. He pressed lightly on the throttle. The bike jerked forward and a few moments later Asher was driving circles around me, whooping and hollering.
I shook my head and started cutting off some flesh from the younger guy’s ass. Luckily he hadn’t shit himself like most of them do. The flesh was clean but I was going to wash it well in some water.
Soon after, Asher parked his brand-new dirt bike against the grocery store’s deck railing and started helping me cut up the meat. By the fire, there was a cast iron frying pan and a big bucket of boiled water that I used to wash the meat in. While the food fried, we took some time to scavenge as much as we could from the buildings.
“You know what I like about you, Reaver?” Asher asked after a couple hours had passed. We had been doing our own thing, gathering what we could from the dead arians. By the time we were done we had collected not only a few small valuable things to take back to Aras, but we had made another cache of the rest of the items we couldn’t carry back. We put it right where his old crate had been in the utility closet.
“Everything I hope,” I joked. I was gnawing on a piece of flesh I’d had simmering over a bed of coals; it was tender and sweet now. I wished Killian was here; he probably had some salt in that satchel of his, or some other spices. Everything that kid touched ended up tasting great. I’d probably bring a few chunks home for him tonight. I could always make up a story as to where we got it, or just say I got it from the Slaught House.
With my free hand I was dividing up drugs with an old credit card and a mirror. I wanted some fiesta time before we dragged our asses back to Aras.
“You’re like me,” he said simply.
I chuckled, before bending over the mirror and taking two lines into my nose. I wiped my nostrils and sniffed. “No, you’re like me.” I corrected.
Asher laughed and took the sniffer. I turned my head and watched him do the lines. I always enjoyed watching my friends inhale drugs. I got a small thrill knowing I had corrupted them.
As he wiped his nose, his eyes turned up and looked at me. He let out a giggle I had never heard before. He laid down on a blanket and looked up at the grey sky. “That cloud looks like an apple.”
I turned my head up, which made the opiate powder drip into the back of my nose. I shuddered and lay down beside him. I looked up, and enjoyed the warmth flowing through me. “Nah,” I said. “It’s a peach, you idiot.”
We both fell silent as we watched the clouds. The sky behind them was cold and blue, almost the colour of Killian’s eyes. I wanted him to be here with me right now. It would have been safe for him, though obviously he would have never agreed to kill that old lady. He would have gone psychotic on Asher if he had shot her in front of him. Might have been a good enough excuse for him to finally do what I knew he wanted to do and mutilate Asher.
I sat up and did another two lines, before I passed the mirror to Asher. We both tilted our heads back, letting the bitter powder dissolve down our nasal passages.
We were quiet for a long time, each enjoying our highs, when Asher’s smooth voice broke the silence. “I fucking love these things, but they make my skin itch.” He let out a pleasurable shudder and shook his head vigorously as if trying to shake something away. He was running his hands up and down his body, scratching his skin lightly. I watched him, noticing he had taken his leather jacket off. He was wearing my bulletproof vest over bare, muscular arms.
“You must not have had them for a while, usually I need to be clean for months or rocking a detox kit in order for them to hit me like that.” I felt a bit jealous. I had felt the same way when Killian first took them. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of that kid as they hit him for the first time. We hadn’t even started dating yet but still I felt such an attraction towards him it was tangible.
“It’s been a long time.” Asher lay back down and let out a sigh. His eyes looked back up to the sky. “We’re buds right, Reaver?”
“Sure.” I felt like we were, but that might be the drugs.
“Then scratch my head. It feels way too good and I’ll elbow you in the face if I start doing it myself.”
I shifted until I was beside him. I knew I shouldn’t but I didn’t mind nearly as much as I should have. I reached my arm over and started scratching his head.
“If I was a cat I’d be purring,” he said. I shook my head at the sky and closed my eyes. Taking in the blissful high feeling, my
fingernails scratched his scalp lightly, up and down, it was almost hypnotic. I stroked the auburn smooth strands as I felt my consciousness plunge into the dreamy, disconnected feeling I had previously named zombieland. A warm, cozy, out of it sensation I chased every time I got high.
Then without even realizing it, I fell asleep.
There were two things I realized when I woke up to cold darkness around me. I didn’t know which one was more disturbing. The fact that Asher had his head on my chest and his hand up my shirt, or the fact that I could hear snarling and crazed yelling on the ridge behind us.
I put my hand over Asher’s mouth and wrenched his face near mine. “Do not say a word, okay?”
There was a surprised gasp but he quickly stifled it, he nodded and I let him go. I saw his eyes widen, once again cold and pale in the night, as he realized the situation we were obviously in. There was another scream and his head jerked. His eyes shot back and mouthed ravers? to me. I nodded.
This had to happen quickly. The ravers were here for a reason and eventually they would make their way down here. “There are ravers on the cliff shelf. We won’t be able to make the quad.” I didn’t think they could hear me under their own noise though. “Are you sure you’ll be able to drive that thing?”
Asher nodded. I saw in his eyes no fear at all. That was more reassuring than any bullshit words.
“The dirt bike will get us to Aras faster than the quad, we’ll be able to take more shortcuts too.” Asher’s voice was so quiet I didn’t know how it could be so clear and audible to me, even with my hearing. Usually when people spoke in whispers their speech got muffled with their voice. “Let me drive, I’ve ridden these all my life,” he said.
My face tensed, my teeth clenching together. That would mean I wouldn’t have control over our escape, or not as much as I would like.
Behind us I could hear rocks and loose dirt tumbling down onto the ground below, barely audible over the animalistic shrieks. The ravers were walking back and forth from the steep ridges. They obviously knew something was down here; that something had invaded their old home. I just hoped we had a few more minutes before they found the road that winded down to here.
My god, what had I let happen? I felt a flare of anger towards myself for falling asleep. I shouldn’t have done so many drugs at once, especially since I hadn’t sampled from that type of pain killer in a while. It was a stupid mistake. Now I had to put my faith in Asher in a dangerous situation. That was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Trust me, Reaver,” Asher whispered.
Trust you? I ground my teeth together. The words were bitter on my lips but I said it. “Alright, Asher.”
My night vision saw him smile. I silently got up and looked towards the dirt bike. Asher’s cache was tied to the back of the quad. It was just the two of us and a few bags on the bike. We could come back tomorrow for the rest of our supplies, or I could hire a few of our mercs to go and fetch it if I decided I’d had enough wasteland.
We walked towards the dirt bike, both of us using every stealth technique we had been taught. We were as silent as shadows, making our way quietly to our only reasonable means of escape.
Asher got onto the dirt bike first, then I followed behind him, though I sat on it backwards so I could get shots in if needed be. I grabbed my M16 and unholstered my pistol. Asher had his combat shotgun a few inches away from the back of my head too so I could always grab that for backup.
“Brace yourself,” Asher whispered. A few moments later he kicked the throttle, and as he did the headlight flooded the entire plaza and the rocky bank behind it.
The night air erupted into manic shrieks. My eyes focused to the movement on the ridge.
As Asher pulled the dirt bike away from the plaza I watched as the ravers all started to spill over the sides of the cliff.
They tumbled and fell, some snapping limbs and some falling onto their comrades. They ran off the ridge without fear or sense of self-preservation. The radiation and the kuru had rotted their brains to the point of indifference. It didn’t matter what stood between them and their food, they went for it until they either got it or they died. That fact alone made them one of the most dangerous radcreatures in the greywastes.
The pile grew as raver after raver ran off the cliff. The ones who had shattered leg bones flailed brown, spindly limbs as their pack mates climbed over them, their milky, dead eyes never leaving the dirt bike as we rode away from them. In my night vision they were nothing but white silhouettes of long limbed monsters, rotted and scabbed but still fast and dangerous.
They started to get closer as we rode. A few stayed behind to feast on their comrades but a vast majority of them were starting to follow the dirt bike. There had to be at least a dozen of them.
I swore as Asher rode up near the side of the canyon ridge. I knew my friend meant business. This was a direct path back to Aras, but it would pass us closer to where we had originally seen the ravers. It would have been safer to hightail it in the opposite direction and make a loop, but it would have added too much to our time, and I for one didn’t know the terrain as well further north.
We followed the broken pavement as it winded towards the top of the ridge. I saw another dozen ravers pushing to get down the cliff, but as the headlight swept over them their heads snapped towards us. Their opal eyes looked at us intently, glowing like moons in a starless sky, before they started to move up and down in the darkness. They were charging at us.
“Two dozen, buddy, speed her up!” I called over the deafeningly loud dirt bike. It needed a new fucking muffler. I could barely hear a thing.
“As soon as we get in sight, radio Aras, we’ll get the sentries to shoot the remainder,” Asher shouted over the noise.
“I’m still fucking charging them for the meat!” I yelled with a whoop.
Asher hollered too. I felt a vibration and the engine roar as he sped up a sharp incline. I braced myself on the small handle in front of me.
“Hold on, I’m going to have to get a bit ballsy here. Time to make your peace with the gods, Reaver!”
I laughed and held my M16 scope up to my eye. I fired off a single round and hit the nearest raver right between the eyes.
“I am a god!” I yelled back. I leaned forward on the dirt bike and gave another adrenaline-induced holler. I rested my M16 on my side and started shooting.
The ravers were catching up to us though, and quicker than I would want them to. I knew they would run until they dropped dead. We had everything that ravers liked all wrapped up in a neat moving package: loud sounds, warm flesh and blood, and movement.
I shot at another one, though I missed as the dirt bike took a hard turn. I tried again and got him in the shoulder. He fell back and landed on the ground. The others ignored him and kept running towards us. I drew my scope back up to my eye.
“Get off, now!” Asher shouted.
I didn’t have time to ask why. I trusted him, as much as I hated to admit it, so I jumped off. I took this opportunity to get better shots in. The ravers were running towards us so fast it made my pulse race. Just when I thought we had lost the mass of them, I could see more white flailing bodies behind. Panting, yelling, and gnashing splintered, broken teeth.
I heard a whine and a screech. I looked over and saw Asher half on the dirt bike, half holding it up. In front of him was a steep incline, one we could have never gotten up on if both of us were weighing down the bike.
I watched as he pressed down hard on the throttle. The bike jolted him off balance and carried him, with a taught jerk, up the ridge. As soon as it was on level ground, Asher let go of the bike, falling onto the greywaste floor. The bike toppled onto him.
“Fuck!’ I heard Asher swear. I lowered my gun and climbed up the ridge. The bike was still idling, but muffled over the screaming that was coming closer with each passing second.
I pulled at the bike and helped Asher up. As I sat backwards on the bike, I saw the fingers of a raver groping the ridge a
s he tried to climb up.
His fingers were radiated and petrified, bare sun-stained finger bones grasping and clawing the greywaste ground. As they dug into the dirt, I saw the top of his scabbed head as he tried to pull himself up.
Then he was pushed down, and another raver took his place. This one was smaller but more agile. He swung a bare leg onto the ridge and started to pull himself up. I could see white skull under his red and crusted scalp.
He looked at me and gnashed his teeth, sharpened and broken into points. I could see the blackened remains of a tongue long shredded to ribbons. As he rose I saw more boney fingers groping the ridge, then legs as the others followed his lead.
They got further away as Asher rode on. I raised my gun and pulled the trigger hoping to snipe the leading one.
Click
“Oh, fuck me…” My heart rose into my throat. I was about to reach for the combat shotgun when something slammed into me.
The next thing I knew I was flying through the air. I closed my eyes and braced myself as best as I could for impact.
I landed hard on my back, the wind knocked out of me. I rolled to my side and tried to get up, but suddenly I felt a searing, gnawing pain in my side.
My eyes snapped open and I snarled like an animal. I pushed the raver off me and grabbed my pistol. I shot him in the head twice and scrambled to my feet.
I heard a deafening shriek and swung around; there were two more behind me. Both females dressed in torn dresses, their tangled blonde hair caked in shit and dirt. Their heads were lowered but their milky eyes were staring at me like I was their dinner. They snarled and bared their stained and broken teeth.
The left one charged first. I shot her in the head and put a bullet into the remaining one’s chest. I could still hear screaming all around me, distorting my senses. I whirled around trying to find them, but all I could see was greywastes.
