by G F Cusack
Will travels back to the Sanctuary
11 August 2202
As Will was driven away from the rebel stronghold, he could see flames billowing out of the ruins behind him. This was the sixth cell that he’d wrapped up in as many days and that should have made him happy. Yet it gave him little comfort to know that soon the buildings would be just a large pile of ashes.
He wasn’t looking forward to explaining to Brand that the girl had escaped. He had taken out a large percentage of the rebels in this area, including this last compound, but he knew that Brand did not reward failure.
Heading to the landing site, he heard the rotor blades speeding up. One bonus of the helicopter ride was that it would take him home faster than his troops. They would spend the next couple of days on the rough roads and tracks heading to the border.
Of course, the flight was not direct. It would have to stop off at a couple of places to pick up warriors for the pits. Yet, even with these detours, his travels would be faster and more comfortable. The reinforced suspensions on the purpose-built armoured trucks would help but, without well-maintained roads, there was no such thing as a smooth ride.
As Will flew in to Newtown, it seemed unusually chaotic. Below him was a large group of people, although that was to be expected as he had arrived on gel distribution day.
This wasn’t the first gel distribution point he had seen and distribution points were never orderly as there never seemed to be enough gel packs. It was not supposed to be a case of survival of the fittest but, as the strongest always pushed to the front of the queue, they got fed first.
Scheduling the same distribution day at the same time throughout the country stopped people from travelling between locations to try to get extra gel packs. Even though barcodes needed to be scanned to get gel, there was always a black market in food when life was so cheap.
When he landed, he could hear the radio message blaring over the speakers. It was the same message that would be going out on a loop at all the gel points across the country.
It was supposed to be a message of hope. “The gel rations have been increased by ten percent today.” Will knew that this wasn’t true as they had actually decreased the rations by thirty percent. “In order to continue to increase gel supplies for all our valuable citizens, we will be reducing the compulsory age at the next aging ceremony from forty-five to forty-four. We are grateful for our elderly citizens’ sacrifice to keep the rest of us alive. We are stronger together.” The same message repeated over and over.
Will was aware that there was no need to reduce the gel distribution or to reduce the compulsory age. The increase of supply was not to benefit the masses but to provide more wealth for the elites. This dark economy provided kickbacks on the black market that even Will benefited from. What they stood to gain was always on the mind of the elites.
Brand chose not to get involved directly but he still benefited financially from these dealings and, like everything else the elites did, his spies kept him updated on any developments.
Will’s helicopter had a short stopover in Newtown to pick up future warriors – prisoners – from the local sheriff, who seemed very happy to see two large men bundled into the helicopter. Will was told that these two miscreants had killed several people in a fight over a small amount of food. The current shortage of gel packs made food expensive even though the value of life itself was becoming cheaper, almost worthless.
The prisoners were bound, gagged and then, rather than being allowed to walk into the helicopter, stacked like luggage. Their comfort was of little concern to Will; they were just excess baggage burning valuable fuel and making the journey riskier.
Transporting prisoners in this manner saved on the number of troops required to guard them. This was a logistics matter to be considered against the impact of the prisoners’ extra weight on the fuel reserves.
Will was relieved when they eventually reached the border staging point and unloaded their cargo. A sergeant who met the helicopter instructed his troops to bundle the prisoners into the back of a couple of trucks. On the outside the sergeant seemed unusually happy to see the prisoners but that was only because it reminded him that this was the end of his three-month tour at the staging point.
Soon the replacement shift would arrive and his troops would return home, taking the prisoners back to the Sanctuary with them. Transporting a bit of extra cargo was a minor inconvenience when it came with the chance of returning to the Sanctuary. At least home offered some kind of entertainment – unlike here, where the only activities were servicing vehicles, manning guard towers and patrolling the border.
Will stayed in the vehicle while the helicopter powered down and took on its valuable fuel, which Will had ordered the pilots to do even though the stop was supposed to be a drop and go. The emergency fuel at the staging point wasn’t meant to be used without higher authority. Possibly Will would upset both the logistics teams in charge of the fuel and the scheduling personnel in charge of the flights. But he didn’t care. As long as he had Brand’s backing, no one could argue with him.
In what seemed to Will like no time at all, he heard the “wop, wop, wop” of the rotors as they began to rotate. After a slight shudder, once again Will felt his stomach drop with the rapid ascent into the sky. The next time they landed, he would be reporting to Brand – and that made him more worried than the thought of the helicopter crashing.
5
Pepper and Flo reach the cabin
13 August 2202
While they were still some distance from the cabin, Pepper noticed the smoke. The nights were already getting colder so this could have been a little smoke from the cabin’s stone fireplace. But Pepper doubted this was chimney smoke.
He cautioned Flo to be wary. His gut was telling him that something bad had happened.
“Stay here and I will be back for you. Do not move until I return. But if I don’t return in the next hour, do not come into the cabin to find me – head north.”
With no response from Flo, Pepper asked, “Do you understand me?”
“Yes, I understand,” she said meekly.
With that acknowledgement, he circled around so he could approach the cabin from the back; he had spent so much time around here that he could have walked this area blindfolded. When he got closer to the cabin, he crouched down and stayed perfectly still for ten minutes, listening for any out-of-place sounds until he was sure that he was alone.
When he emerged into the clearing, his first view was of the smouldering remnants of the cabin.
He judged that, in its current state, the cabin had been burning for some time – over twelve hours, by his estimation. So he was fairly sure that whoever had started the fire was now gone.
With empty shell cases scattered all over the site, Pepper assumed that his old friend must have put up a strong resistance. Unfortunately, though, the Company forces would have had more firepower and must have worn him down.
Stapled to the trees were the regular Company posters. The Company’s standard method of operations was to burn down any habitable buildings and then display warning posters. Destroying buildings removed any potential shelter for rebel forces. The posters were meant to instil fear – and by and large they were effective. The posters had the standard words:
These resources and the surrounding buildings were destroyed by the forces of the true governing body.
The inhabitants were traitors to the rule of law. Their sole goal is to shatter our fair and civil society.
Anyone sheltering or harbouring survivors from this punishment will be liable to summary execution and their bodies will be transported to the gel plants.
Pepper always smiled bitterly when he read the last line of the posters. Once you were summarily executed, how would you care what they did with your body?
But then he also realised that he would not find a body here as, if the Company forces had killed Rogan, they would have taken the corpse to the gel plants. After scouring the a
rea thoroughly and deciding it was safe, he went back into the woods to retrieve Flo.
He found her exactly where he had left her, cowering behind a tree.
“It’s okay, the bad people have gone,” he said quietly and calmly.
“Are you sure?” she asked timidly.
He took her by the hand and shepherded her into the clearing. “Trust me, it’s okay.”
The cabin and the smaller buildings had been ransacked. Their contents would have been either destroyed in the fire or plundered by the soldiers.
Luckily Pepper knew of a stash of supplies within walking distance of the ruins and he motioned for Flo to accompany him. A hundred yards from the clearing at the base of an old maple tree was a shovel hidden in the undergrowth.
With the shovel, he dug down to uncover a moulded plastic strongbox.
Opening the lid, he was glad to see that the monthly checks had ensured that the cache was in good condition. Knowing that the cabin was always at risk, Rogan had insisted on this lifeline and, right now, Pepper was very grateful for it.
After extracting the two backpacks, he began to fill them with the other contents of the box. Although he divided the dry foods evenly between the two packs, he gave himself the weighty stuff such as the canned food and blankets.
He took both of the Glock pistols and the bullets, placing one pistol and the two silencers in his bag and the other pistol in his waistband. The silenced pistol had long been the preferred weapon of the rebels as they needed to depend on stealth to give them an advantage over the Company’s superior resources.
Pepper tossed Flo a winter jacket, a hat and gloves. They were a bit large for her small frame, but they were heading into winter and her survival could depend on them.
As it was still light, Pepper was conscious that the smoke remained visible from some distance. Worried that it would attract more attention, he decided to vacate the area as quickly as possible. He did not want to take Flo with him but he was also aware his previous plan of leaving her with Rogan was now literally up in smoke.
“We need to get away from here right now. Come with me and once we are far enough away to be safe, we can discuss what to do next, okay?”
Flo was clearly tired and confused but her instincts seemed to tell her that Pepper was her best option. “You won’t leave me, will you?”
“I know you’re tired but as long as you keep moving, I won’t leave you. Can you keep putting one foot in front of the other?”
“I think so.”
“Put both of those straps over your shoulders. It will spread the load and you’ll not tire as fast.”
They headed off, bearing north. Pepper knew that they would be walking for some time, until he felt safe enough for them to rest up.
6
Will reports his successes
11 August 2202
The wind was whipping up clouds of dust as the helicopter touched down. To the side of the landing pad, two large armoured vehicles waited to take Will to Brand.
As he exited the metal bird, Will took a few minutes to stretch his legs and reach his arms up towards the sky. After the circulation had returned to his limbs, he rolled his head from side to side until his neck seemed looser. He had been sitting in the helicopter for hours and, although the armoured vehicle would have more comfortable seats, he needed to gather his thoughts before he began the journey to the council buildings.
Climbing into the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, he motioned for them to head off. When the powerful engines gunned into life, they headed away from the airfield and towards the impending briefing.
It took less than thirty minutes for the vehicles to pull up in front of the council buildings. Will realised Brand would be aware of their arrival as Brand seemed to know everything. He bounded out of the vehicle and up the steps. As he hadn’t been restrained by his escorts, he assumed that they hadn’t been sent to apprehend him.
He could have taken the elevator but Will decided on the steps to give himself a bit more time. Whether that was time to think or just a little longer to live, he was unsure as yet. As he ascended the six hundred steps, he knew this was a balancing act. He couldn’t climb too slowly as this might inadvertently anger Brand; he didn’t want to arrive out of breath or Brand might see this as weakness. He cursed himself for not taking the elevator.
The six security guards at the door nodded to their boss as he approached them. Will knew that only Brand and he could get through this door without having their documents checked. The guards had orders to shoot first and ask questions later, as one previous council member had found to his detriment.
Councillor Hurst had been lucky that his wounds weren’t fatal but that incident had impressed on all of the council that, no matter how important they perceived themselves to be, there was only one supreme leader and it was Brand.
When Will entered the room, he was struck as always by the contrasts in its design. The room was large and almost empty. The floors were dark polished wood and the walls were deep red up to a wooden border. The bright white on the top half of the walls extended up to a high ceiling of the same colour.
The browns and red made the room feel warm yet the whites made it feel stark and cold. It was said that the lack of furniture was to reduce the number of potential weapons but it also gave visitors nowhere to sit.
The one purpose for which this room existed was for Brand’s enjoyment. It was his domain and he controlled it.
Brand was sitting behind a large ornate wooden desk in a huge carved wooden chair. The only chair in the room, its leather upholstery and brass buttons made it look like a throne from centuries gone by.
Clad in a pin-striped three-piece suit with a crisp white shirt, Brand gave the impression that he wasn’t the type of boss to get his hands dirty. That notion couldn’t be further from the truth. On more than one occasion, Will had seen Brand beat a man to death with his bare hands. Will had been the only observer of these killings, which placed him in danger as he was all too aware. He was seen by most as Brand’s loyal right-hand man but Brand would despatch him quickly if he felt this witness was any kind of threat.
“So what have you got to report?” Brand got straight to the point.
“It was a successful mission. We destroyed six rebel dwellings and killed over a hundred rebels. As well as the six larger groups, we picked off some individual trouble-causers.”
“You think it was a successful trip?” Brand said sarcastically. “So you got the girl?”
“No, we didn’t capture the girl but I thought that was only the secondary part of the mission. Our primary mission was to destroy the rebels and we did that.”
“I set the mission parameters.” Brand’s voice was getting louder now. “I say what your priorities are and I wanted the girl captured. Do you seriously expect me to believe that with all of the resources I have provided you, you couldn’t capture a teenage girl?”
“My source at the final compound we routed said that a teenage girl was inside. I got my people to check all of the bodies closely but there was no sign of one. If she had been present, I would have brought her back with me, dead or alive.”
“Dead or alive.” Brand spat at him. “My express instructions were that she was to be brought back unharmed. Am I speaking to myself when I give these orders?”
Knowing this was a rhetorical question, Will did not say a word in response. He could feel the rage in Brand’s words and he couldn’t chance angering him any further.
“You may think that this mission was a success but I see it as a failure.”
Will reflected that his assessment on the journey home had been correct. No matter how many rebels Will had killed, Brand would be disappointed that he hadn’t captured the girl that he seemed obsessed with.
The reason why the girl was important was immaterial to Will as Brand always had his own agenda. Will only knew that capturing her was important to his survival. Making Brand happy was the best way to stay alive.
Will realised that he was in a dangerous situation. He chose to say nothing and that was just as well because Brand had a lot more to say.
“Today you are able to eat the best foods and drink expensive beverages but tomorrow you could be part of the next gel pack consignment. Remember that the next time you fail me.”
After a few more seconds, Brand seemed to regain control. “You will be glad to know that I have decided to be merciful. Today is not a day to send you to the gel plants.”
Because he hadn’t been dragged here by the team escorting him from the helicopter, Will had been cautiously confident that he might survive the day. Unfortunately, when dealing with a paranoid narcissist like Brand, there were no guarantees.
“There are more rebel enclaves in the regions further north than the ones you destroyed this week. As you seem to have a talent for neutralising these enclaves, that is where you shall focus your energies. I have other resources that I will employ to pursue the girl. Don’t think that you are being rewarded for your failure though – you should feel fortunate that you can still provide some value to me. Have you anything else to report?”
Will just shook his head. He felt like he was getting the chance to leave and he would happily seize the opportunity. He decided continued silence was the best option as his words were unlikely to improve the situation or, worse, if they were wrong they could result in his death.
As it turned out, Brand’s patience wasn’t helped by Will’s lack of verbal response. “Get out my sight and ensure that, the next time you present a report to me, it is a real success and not just half a job. Do you understand that?”
