Evolution (The Wasteland Chronicles, #3)

by Kyle West

  Now, it was my turn. I grimaced, doing my best to land where they had. But, a sudden gust of wind lifted me above the street. Gritting my teeth, I tried to turn, but to no avail. The wind caught hold of my canopy, taking me above the flat roof of the four story building. If I didn’t do something, I would overshoot the building and draw dangerously close to the wall on the opposite end of the settlement.

  It was now, or never.

  I pulled the release, and the main canopy shot above me. Automatically, the reserve deployed. By now, however, I had already landed on top of the building, tucking and rolling even as the reserve went limp from lack of air.

  Panting, I cut the cords of the reserve with my knife, untangling myself from the lines. I gazed ahead, where the main canopy now settled onto the corner of the roof, precariously close to falling off. I’d take care of that in a second. First, I threw off my pack and stripped out of my jumpsuit, tossing them aside. I went to the roof’s corner and picked up the main canopy, dragging it to the building’s center, where there was a barrel. I stuffed the canopy inside the barrel, and then stuffed my reserve and jumpsuit in as well. I didn’t want the wind catching them and blowing them away. Then, I crouched on the ground, holding my Beretta in my right hand. I crawled toward the edge of building in Samuel and Makara’s direction. I took a peek over the edge.

  The street was dark. Without my goggles, I probably wouldn’t be able to see a thing. Only a few windows were lit in the early morning. Gazing upward, clouds blanketed the whole sky, blocking out the stars. Somewhere high above, unknown to the town below, Gilgamesh hovered. I could see or hear nothing of it.

  So far, so good. The town was fast asleep. We had not been spotted by any of the guards, and we had all landed relatively close to one another. It was just one of many things that needed to go right tonight.

  Across the dirt road, Makara and Samuel kneeled between two buildings. I could see their faces staring at me from below, in the darkness. I had to find a way down and join them.

  I kept low and searched the perimeter of the building for a way down. I was in luck; a metal ladder descended from the building’s side, right into the alleyway below. All I had to do was go down it and dash across the street to where Makara and Samuel were. Then, we could begin our search for Anna.

  Before I stepped down, I surveyed my surroundings. The buildings were all old, mostly from Pre-Ragnarok times. Most of the paint had long peeled off, and the buildings’ sides were cracked, their original whitewash stained with dust and soot. The wall had probably been built following Ragnarok for additional security. In the distance, I could see one of the gatehouses. From its twin guard towers, flags flapped in the darkness. On the wooden ramparts stood two figures of guards, facing outward.

  I climbed down the ladder, taking the rungs carefully. It wouldn’t do to slip and fall because I was in a hurry. When I reached solid ground, I allowed myself a small sigh of relief. I stepped lightly onto the dirt of the dark alley. A chill clung in the air, and a thin veil of mist covered the ground. In the distance, perhaps several buildings away, a couple of dogs howled, sending shivers down my spine.

  I edged closer to the street. Everything was as empty as we could have wished it. I had expected there to be more people about, and for a minute, I was skeptical of it. Still, I crouched low, and ran across the street. When I reached the alley, I finally joined up with Samuel and Makara. They both looked relieved to see me.

  “We’re inside,” I said. “Now what?”

  Samuel motioned for me to keep my voice down. In the calm night, it had carried more than I’d intended. Then, he took off his goggles. Makara and I followed his example. I allowed mine to hang around my neck. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness.

  “She will be probably be under lock and key,” Samuel said.

  “Assuming she wasn’t killed,” Makara said.

  Samuel nodded. “Yes, that is always a possibility.”

  “Maybe a guardhouse of some kind?” I suggested.

  “Or a jailhouse,” Makara said.

  “Those would be good places to start.”

  I looked around, as if I might find those kinds of places in this cold, deserted alley. The settlement was a little bigger than I thought. It was probably the same size as Oasis in the Wasteland, although the population density was much higher. The buildings were more packed together, most of them being three and four stories. Obviously, this town had existed Pre-Ragnarok, and the Empire had appropriated it for its own use. Ashton gave us thirty minutes to complete the mission upon touchdown, and it would easily take hours to go through all the buildings. Even I wasn’t feeling that lucky, especially when danger would be lurking inside.

  I was about to ask where we should start, when a door slammed open from the building to our right. Yellow light spilled into the alley. A man was thrown out the door, crying out as he rolled through the dirt and into the brick wall of the adjacent building. He moaned in pain as three men exited the open door, brandishing clubs. They stalked toward their victim, surrounding him.

  The downed man opened his eyes, looking right at us. His eyes widened, but he said nothing. He seemed to be pleading with us to help him.

  The men had yet to notice us standing just a few feet off in the darkness. That wouldn’t last long. Samuel urged us forward.

  As the men closed in on their prey and began the beating anew, we sneaked up from behind. I silently retrieved my knife from its sheath, hoping for a quick and silent kill. We were close, now – just feet away, and they had yet to notice us. That’s when the man closest to me turned around – fat, with a thick, unkempt black beard, and dark brown eyes. He cried out in alarm.

  Samuel stepped forward, silently stabbing the man’s neck before he could react. He screamed and fell to the dirt. Makara bounded forward, taking out the second man, tall and skinny, with a frenzy of knife swipes. She finished the job similarly to Samuel – stabbing the man through the throat once he was down.

  I had the job of finishing the last one – a short, bald man who made up for his lack of height with plenty of muscle. He looked like a fighter to the core, covered with scars on his face and arms. He had drawn his own knife, backing away as he faced off against me. But his retreat was a feint. He lunged at me, eyes filled with lethal purpose.

  Samuel and Makara pressed on him from either side. Knowing he was surrounded, he made one last ditch effort to attack me, in order to cut his way free. I dodged his wild swipe. The attack had put him off balance. I kicked him with my boot. He grunted, and was sent sprawling to the ground. He yelled in Spanish, probably calling for help, before Makara jumped on top and finished him, cutting him cleanly across the throat. Blood gurgled from his mouth. He quivered, and grew still.

  The man we saved still cowered against the wall, as if we might attack him next.

  “It’s alright,” Makara said. “You can trust us.”

  The man looked up. “Thank you. I couldn’t take all three.”

  The man was maybe in his mid to late twenties. He had coppery brown skin, and sported a full, black beard. He wore a simple cotton shirt and rough pants fashioned from what seemed to be hemp or burlap. Whoever he was, he wasn’t a wealthy man. He was covered in hard muscle, as if used to hard labor. He had striking, green eyes, and several day’ stubble covered his face. Several scars crisscrossed his forearms, and a small one underlined his right eye.

  “Why were they attacking you?” I asked.

  He shrugged, sitting up straighter against the wall. He closed his eyes, still obviously in pain.

  “I’m a slave. This is nothing out of the ordinary.” He looked at us, curiously. “Who are you? You are obviously Americans, but you have guns. Did you escape? Who was your master?”

  “We’re trying to find a friend,” Samuel said. “She is short, with black hair. She was taken here two days ago, and we’re trying to find her.”

  The man’s face lit with recognition.

  “Yeah, I know who
you’re talking about.” He shook his head. “You just missed her.”

  “Missed her?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

  Makara glanced nervously toward the open door. From within came the sound of yelling.

  “Guys,” she said, “we better keep this short.”

  “They transported her, last night,” the man said. “She fought against the slavers in the town square, even killing one of them.”

  “And she’s still alive?” Samuel asked.

  The man nodded. “They sent her to Nova Roma.”

  “Nova Roma?” I asked. “What for?”

  “I don’t know,” the man said. “I saw her leave this morning, with the other slaves.”

  Other slaves. So she is enslaved.

  “We have to go after her,” I said.

  The man stood up from where he had been sitting. “My name is Julian, by the way.”

  “Look,” Samuel said. “Introductions can wait. If what you say is true, Julian, then we need to get out of here right now.”

  Before Samuel could say anything more, two men ran out into the alleyway from the open door. They stood for a moment, shocked, upon seeing their fallen comrades soaking in their own pools of blood.

  One of the men turned to Julian, his face a mask of fury. Then, he noticed us. Both men reached for their guns, but we already had ours out. In a moment, we were shooting them down. The shots reverberated through the quiet night, alerting everyone to our presence.

  Julian looked at us in shock even as the bodies fell around him. Shouts filled the streets as doors slammed open.

  “What now?” Makara asked.

  “I know a way out,” Julian said. “You have to trust me.”

  Julian bounded down the alley and was lost to darkness. Having no other choice, we ran after him.

  Chapter 12

  Julian took us over a mangled fence as more men ran into the alley, shouting in alarm upon finding the dead bodies.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “There is a storm drain that leads outside the walls,” Julian said. “I’m leading you there.”

  “Have you used it before?” Makara asked.

  “Yes,” Julian said. “Although, that time it didn’t work out.”

  “Didn’t work out...?” Makara asked.

  Julian ignored Makara’s question, instead turning a corner and running straight down the street. Two men stood ahead of us, talking in front of an open door. Upon seeing us, they looked at each other and began to shout.

  Before they could do us any harm, Makara aimed her gun and fired. The two men ducked into an alleyway. They stayed out of sight as we ran past the alley. They must not have had guns, but they would surely go find people who did.

  “Here!” Julian said.

  He threw open a door to one of the buildings as more men came from the alley behind us. We rushed inside, slamming the door. Samuel locked it, then placed a nearby chair under the handle. We all rushed up the wooden steps behind Julian.

  “Where are we going?” I shouted.

  “We have to take a bit of a detour. You have to trust me.”

  “This is the second time you’ve said that.”

  “Save your breath for the jump!” Julian said.

  The jump?

  Five landings later, Julian opened a final door. We were on the flat rooftop of the tallest building in town. Around us in the night were the shapes of other buildings, most slanted and decrepit from time and lack of maintenance. On the street below, several men were battering down the door of our building with a large piece of wood they had found somewhere. The door fell.

  “Why are they so set on coming after us?” I asked.

  “Catching five escaped slaves is a huge payout,” Julian said.

  “But we’re not slaves.”

  “Even if you’re not, they don’t know that, do they?”

  I didn’t have an answer for him as Julian bounded ahead. He was fast. Far faster than Makara, Samuel, or anyone I had ever seen for that matter. Not even looking down, he sailed through the air with a mighty leap. We all ran forward, watching him fall onto the next building across the alley, about a story down. He tucked and rolled upon landing, standing without injury to himself. He looked up, motioning us on.

  “I hope this is the only time we have to do this,” Makara said.

  She backed up, sprinted, and then jumped. Several men in the alley below spied her, shooting upward several times. I could hear shouts from the stairwell from the men running up behind us. There wasn’t much time left.

  Samuel and I jumped in tandem. I had done this enough times by now to be used to it. Upon landing on the next building, instead of letting my knees take the brunt of the impact, I rolled forward to distribute the force of the fall evenly. It still hurt, shocking my senses, but I stood on steady legs, shaking off the impact.

  “Good,” Julian said. “That was the hard part. The rest is fairly easy.”

  We ran, jumping from building to building. The buildings were of even height, so making the jumps wasn’t too difficult. Behind us, our pursuers were beginning to make their first jump.

  Julian was so quick. His lean, muscular body and long legs were built for speed. My lungs burned for air just trying to keep up with him. If I hadn’t been working out, I’d have long been left in the dust.

  The palisade wall approached in the distance. A couple guards stood on its ramparts, looking toward the city, drawn by the noise. Upon seeing us, they began to fire with their rifles. Julian ducked behind some crates, where we ran to join him. I slid on the flat rooftop, sliding right beside him. The men chasing us from behind were fewer, now, but they would be on us within a minute.

  “Where is this storm drain?” Samuel asked.

  “It’s between this building and the wall.” Julian paused. “It was how I almost escaped, two years ago.”

  “And you were caught,” Makara said.

  “Only because it decided to randomly rain. You try escaping through a storm drain when it starts to pour and see how it works out. I’m lucky to even be alive. The drain leads to the river. Once we’re there, we can escape into the forest.”

  We all looked at each other. It was a gamble, but we really had no other choice. We had to trust that Julian knew what he was doing. He had certainly kept us alive so far.

  But now, stuck behind these crates, we were pinned between the guards on the wall and our pursuers behind us. The guards on the wall would shoot as soon as we left cover. But the men chasing us were only two buildings behind now, and would surely kill us as soon as we were in range.

  “There is a ladder on the side of the building,” Julian said. “If we move these crates, we can have cover while we head over there. Once down the ladder, the building itself will be our cover.”

  We rushed to do what Julian said. We each scooted a crate. Bullets fired, and those that would have hit us struck the crates harmlessly. The danger increased as the men from behind caught up and began to fire their own guns. A few bullets riddled the crates on our side. A bullet ricocheted off the rooftop just inches from my foot.

  But by this time, we had made it to the ladder. Julian latched onto the metal, sliding down and gritting his teeth from the pain it caused his hands. Samuel went next, followed by Makara. Once I slid down the side of the building, we were all out of our pursuers’ line of sights.

  The metal and chipped paint burned and cut into my hands. I tried not to let the pain slow me down. The pursuing men were now on top of the ladder, aiming their guns down. I hopped off just as they started shooting, rolling away into the dark alley. I ran after the others, who were already disappearing around the corner.

  Upon circling the corner, I nearly ran into all three of them. They stood at the side of the street, staring at a metal grate covering the opening of the storm drain.

  “It’s gone,” Julian said. “They’ve closed it off!”

  The first of the men were rounded the corner, while
two men from the ramparts of the wall above aimed their rifles down.

  There was nothing more we could do. It was over. We had been captured.

  ***

  The men surrounded us, pointing their guns. They did not say anything as one of them stepped forward.

  That was when a repetitive thrum sounded in the sky. A blinding light shined down on all of us. The men cried out in alarm. Quickly, the light pointed away from us, and shined on the men. A second floodlight came on, shining on the men on the walls. They held hands up to their eyes.

  “Ashton!” I said.

  He couldn’t lift us out of here – by the time he let the ladder down, the men would have long recovered from their shock. We had to find another way.

  Makara dashed for the gate, knifing a man in the throat as she passed. As the man fell, we followed. The men were yelling, and by the time we vacated the scene, Gilgamesh remained in hover mode. Its twin turrets opened up, raining lead on the street behind us. The men ran for cover.

  Now that was the distraction we needed. The gate wasn’t far, and we found ourselves in front of it in under a minute. It was completely shut.

  “We have to go inside the gatehouse and open it,” Julian said.

  “How do we do that?” Samuel asked.

  “I don’t know, we’ll figure it out.”

  Julian threw open the gatehouse door, which led to a narrow set of wooden steps. We circled around until we reached the top. To our left, an open archway led to the ramparts, where two guards stood transfixed, watching the Gilgamesh. Since they were not even looking our way, Samuel put his hand on a giant wheel, which connected to a giant link of chains. He gave the wheel a heave. Not able to do it himself, we all joined him.

  The loud cranking sound shook the guards out of their stupor. They aimed their rifles, but not before I shot one in the chest. He fell off the rampart toward the dirt street below. The other one, deciding not to take his chances against the four of us, jumped right off the rampart rather than get shot.