Wasteland: Sirain Rises

by Ann Bakshis

  “Caderyn knows we’re here,” I say to Braxton.

  “Then we can’t stay long.”

  “I’ve already changed the passcode, so they won’t be able to get in easily.”

  “Have communications been re-established with Acheron?” Bevan asks.

  “No. At the moment they are strictly going to Tyre.”

  “Neo, we’re going to need to stay the night. Lehen and I can work on your communications, so at least you can see what’s going on in Acheron, and cut your link with Tyre. That may tip off the army, but it gives us time. Where can the others sleep?”

  “I’ve got men ready to give up their beds for you all. They’re very grateful, as I am, for your assistance.”

  Neo’s second in command escorts us to the sleeping area, while Neo takes Braxton and Lehen to the communications room, which is next to weapons storage. I take the bed in the back, away from everyone else, and fall asleep the minute my head hits the pillow.

  In the morning, we’re treated to fresh eggs, milk, toast, and bacon. Braxton has managed to re-connect the Borough with Acheron, but visually only. From what we’ve seen of the live feed, the Tyrean army is busy fixing the shuttle rail. They have quite a bit of it completed, but they’ve had to do it from the air as they’re still not able to get past the detonators. Neo offers to have a couple of his Regulators go with us, and many volunteer, but Braxton declines, stating that they’ll be needed more in the Borough, especially with Caderyn on his way. Vier and Bevan come up with a defensive strategy for the Borough, which Neo gets underway immediately. Caitrin has volunteered to stay behind and assist. I’m glad she’s staying behind. We’re given fresh fruit and vegetables, bread, and dried meat.

  “Good luck, old friend,” Neo says to Braxton as we’re about to leave.

  “You too.”

  We head southwest. We stay off of Acheron roads, worried that Caderyn, or some form of Tyrean army may be on their way. Vier drives while Braxton sleeps on the floor in the back, with Lehen two benches over. I sit in the passenger seat, flipping through the journal to see where we should go next. If we can retake Acheron, Vladim will lose part of his stronghold, even though he hasn’t fully captured it, yet. I imagine what the current power structure looks like, and figure Kedua is probably the one in charge.

  I wonder what made her turn on Artemis. How is she getting her orders? Is it even possible to go after Acheron? Getting into a Borough is one thing, but taking a whole city is something quite different, verging on the impossible.

  I lean my head back, close my eyes, and try to think where to go next. We stop just before the sun sets. A storm outside prevents us from leaving the transport, so we pile in the back, and begin passing around the food.

  “Now where?” Lehen asks, munching on some dried beef.

  “Well,” Braxton begins, “if we’re to make any impact we need to do something big.”

  “How about freeing Acheron?” I chime in.

  “Trea, there’s only six of us, we could never take the city,” Bevan responds. “We would need an army of our own.”

  “I know where we can get one,” Braxton says, putting the food away. “The Reformatory is about five days northwest of here. I’m sure there are plenty of people there who would love a chance to destroy the Premier, and whoever is High Ruler of Acheron now.”

  “What is the Reformatory?” Piran asks.

  “It’s a prison. Each city has one. Acheron’s is in the northern section of its territory. It holds around five thousand people, mostly general law breakers such as Laics who refused to report to work, and Acheron citizens who’ve defied the High Ruler.”

  “What if they carried out a more serious crime?” Bevan asks, voice shaking.

  “You mean like treason?” Braxton stares at Bevan, hinting at what he’s done. “They’re given thirty days to prove their innocence, then they’re executed in front of the general population as a reminder to their fellow prisoners that death is the ultimate punishment.”

  “How do we know they’ll help us?” I ask, thinking about Braxton and how he was almost sent to the Reformatory.

  “We don’t, but it’s better than not doing anything.”

  We clean up the rest of our mess before calling it a night. I take the passenger seat, and Braxton sleeps on the driver’s side. Everyone else is either on the floor or a bench. As usual, my mind is too active for me to fall asleep. Instead I stare at the monitor showing the storm thrashing the trees outside.

  Would Braxton have been put to death if he’d been arrested? Will all of us be executed if caught?

  I shake my head, trying to remove the thoughts and images. I look over at Braxton to find him awake and staring at me.

  “Go ahead, ask your question,” he says to me.

  How does he know what I’m thinking?

  “Would you have been executed if Caderyn had taken you?”

  “Leaving your post is considered treason in Sirain. I was following the High Ruler’s orders, but since he was killed while I was gone it wouldn’t matter. So, yes.”

  “You answer like it’s no big deal.”

  “If it meant protecting you, then yes it’s no big deal.”

  “Why?” I scream at him, waking everyone up. “Why am I so damn important to everyone that they’re willing to risk their lives for me?”

  “You’re an Antaean, Trea, that’s why,” Bevan responds.

  “Piran, Lehen, and Vier are Antaeans, but everyone treats me differently. I’m no different than they are. Why can’t you think of me that way?”

  “Because, Trea,” Vier begins, “we were told to protect you.”

  “Told…told by who?”

  “Your mother told us to,” Lehen replies. “Eunice made us promise.”

  At first I don’t know how to react. I stand there stunned, eyes wide, and mouth gaping open.

  What do they mean Eunice made them promise? Why? What do I still not know?

  I hit the hatch button on the front console and bolt outside before it fully deploys. Tears mix with the rain as they hit my face. I don’t care where I’m running to as long as it’s away from the others.

  How could my mother do this to me? What was her ultimate goal? Was it to bring down Vladim? Unite Sirain as one? Why don’t I know? Why does everyone know more about myself than I do? I don’t want to be an Antaean anymore. I just want to be Meg, not Trea.

  I lost Meg long ago, but I ache to bring her back. I’d do anything to be a simple Laic, or even back in the Wasteland. I don’t want to be the one everyone depends on. That’s a type of pressure that can break someone. It’s crushing me right now, and I can’t seem to stop it.

  I feel like I’m on the verge of shattering, and drop to my knees and scream. My pain changes to rage. I plant my hands in the mud and let my anger take over. Heat builds, flowing through every cell. The air around me begins to glow. I let my hatred build. My hatred for who I am. Streams of blue light begin to snake along the ground from my fingers. I watch as it travels until it locates a source to grab on to. The power surges up a tree it has captured. When the bark can’t hold off the pressure any longer, the tree ignites into a flaming mass.

  My body gets very weak. I lift my hands up, the power stops, and I collapse backwards, unable to move. I close my eyes and let the darkness envelop me.

  CHAPTER 17

  Was I dreaming? Did that really happen?

  I’m afraid to open my eyes, fearing what I’ve done. Something touches my face. I instinctively reach for it, gripping my hand tightly over the flesh. My eyes spring open to find Lehen staring at me. I let go of his hand before pushing myself up into a sitting position.

  I’m on the floor of the transport. I look around at the concerned faces, wrapping myself up tighter in the blanket that was placed on top of me. The only person I don’t see is Braxton, so I assume he’s driving.

  “You had us worried,” Lehen says, sitting on the bench next to me. “We didn’t think you’d ever wake up.”


  “How long have I been out?”

  “Three days,” Piran answers.

  “What?” I practically shout. “That’s not possible!”

  I try to stand, but I’m too weak. Vier hands me a food packet and instructs me to eat. It’s not my first choice in food, but with an empty stomach it’ll be easier to digest than anything else. I eat slowly, also sipping small amounts of water. I begin to feel better, and a little stronger. I want to ask how they found me, but that would entail them asking me how I set the tree on fire. Instead, I ask them something else.

  “What did you mean by the things you said about my mother?”

  Lehen moves to the floor by my feet before answering. “It was during our memory exercises, when a speaker was placed under our pillows during naps and the instructors would play conditioning recordings. Eunice was in charge of one session a week. For that hour, she would instruct us in our sleep to protect you at any cost. She must have played something else for you during that time since you don’t recall it.”

  “But why?”

  “That, we don’t know.”

  I lean my head back against the wall separating me from the driver. I wish I knew what Eunice played for me all those years ago.

  Why can’t I remember?

  I’m handed a few more packets of mash, all of which I eat. We stop just before dusk. I don’t recognize any of the terrain as I step out to stretch. The land is flat and burnt, with sporadic patches of tall grasses, and there are no trees for miles. Braxton advises we’re only a few hours away from the Reformatory. He tells me they’ve been driving non-stop, changing drivers every twelve hours.

  “It’s better if we get close during the night. It’ll give us better cover,” he explains, closing the hatch after we’ve climbed back on board. “I expect a high number of army personnel to be there.”

  “So, what’s the plan?” I ask, sitting on a bench.

  “We walk in.”

  “Are you crazy?” Lehen snaps. “They’ll kill us before we get anywhere near the entrance.”

  Braxton walks over to a bench next to the far wall, pops open the top, and removes a Tyrean army uniform. “Neo collected these before they buried the bodies. I thought they might come in handy.”

  “There’s no way they’ll just allow the six of us to enter, even if we are wearing uniforms,” Vier chimes in.

  “They will if you have a prisoner. Especially one they’re looking for.”

  I know how Braxton thinks. Commander Caderyn is hunting for him, so he wants to use himself as bait.

  “No,” I say in protest. “There has to be another way. I’m not going to let you go. They’ll kill you.”

  “What do we do once we’re inside?” Bevan asks, ignoring me.

  “They’ll take me into Intake where I’ll be processed before being branded and moved to a housing level. The guards’ quarters is behind Intake, along with weapons storage. If the army has treated the Regulators at the Reformatory like they did in the Farm Borough, the guards should be mixed with the prisoners. We’ll have to take one level at a time.”

  “How many levels are there?”

  “Three. Each holds fifteen hundred people.”

  “You expect us to free that many? How do we control them once they’re out of their cells? They’ll never listen to us,” Lehen protests.

  “You’ve got another problem,” I interject. “Vier can’t simply put on a uniform. They’ll see his face and immediately and know what he is.”

  “Then use me as the bait instead,” Vier says. “You know they’re looking for Antaeans. If we bring them one, it might make getting in easier. As you said, Trea, they’d kill Braxton, but they wouldn’t kill an Antaean.”

  He has a point.

  “And since Braxton knows his way around the structure, we can move about easier if he’s with us and not captured,” Piran adds.

  The decision is made. Vier will be the bait while the rest of use dress as soldiers. Braxton starts the transport and we begin the final trek to the Reformatory.

  The lights from the complex can be seen several miles away. Heavy spotlights sit atop high fence walls encompassing the structure. Braxton informed us during our journey that the prisoners are held in a building called the Cylinder, which is adjacent to the main building, connected only by a single walkway. The main building itself is in the formation of an “I”, housing the showers for the prisoners, the guards’ quarters, weapons storage, a set of lifts, and holding cells for prisoners who are to be executed.

  “Why is it called the Cylinder?” Piran asks, securing a uniform to his thin frame.

  “There’s a three-story open courtyard in the center of the circular building. In this area, they hold the public executions. All prisoners are removed from their cells and ordered to stand behind the railings that circle their floor so they can see down to the main level. This allows everyone a good view of the punishment.”

  No one speaks for a while.

  Braxton stops the transport five miles from the entrance. The rest of us have put on our uniforms. I’m hoping my hair will still give me some cover as it’s still short and black. Once we’re all prepped, Braxton drives the vehicle to the gate, which swings open at our approach.

  “They shouldn’t have opened the gate so easily,” Braxton comments, nervously. “Why would they do that?”

  We swing around the road and stop a few feet away from the building. Braxton opens the hatch. Lehen and Bevan have a hold on Vier as they escort him out, Piran and I following behind. We walk to the double glass doors and Lehen hits the button next to the door just as Braxton catches up to us. A buzzer sounds as the doors part and we step into a vestibule blocked by another set of doors. The ones behind us close before the others open. This is going to make any escape attempt difficult. We may need to find an alternate way out.

  A Tyrean soldier sits at a desk covered in monitors as we approach the Intake area. The room behind the man is empty except for a metal bench and a machine with three cables coming out of its top, each capped with several needles.

  “What have you got there?” the soldier asks.

  I can’t see his hands, which makes me nervous.

  “We caught this one trying to escape into the Wasteland,” Bevan begins, jerking his head toward Vier. “We couldn’t reach Tyre due to a malfunction with our radio, so we thought we’d bring the Antaean here.”

  “An Antaean? Really?” The man’s eyes grow wide as he finally looks at Vier. “The Premier will be most happy.”

  I look around the room and see several cameras rotating towards our direction from the four corners. I can hear their lenses adjust their focus.

  This was a mistake, I think. We should never have come here.

  “What’s that vehicle you’re in?” the soldier asks, still sitting at his desk, hands still hidden. “That’s not a regulation transport.”

  “We found it abandoned several days ago. We don’t know where it came from,” Lehen answers.

  The man seems to think this over. I sense Braxton stiffening as he stands next to me. He knows, like I do, that the guard isn’t buying it.

  “Where did you say you picked up this Antaean?”

  “He was over by Oasis One, trying to make his way into the Wasteland,” Bevan says.

  They’ve been warned. Could a troop have made it to the Farm Borough already?

  I feel my pulse quicken as the tension in the room increases. Heat begins to build in my arms. I have to use all of my will power to prevent the stream from showing.

  A door to our right opens and Tobin enters, scarred almost beyond recognition. My breath catches in my throat. I’m stunned and elated to see him here. Tension eases from my limbs, and I also feel Braxton relax considerably.

  “I’ll take it from her, Tribune,” he says with an air of authority.

  “Yes, of course, Praetorian Tobin.”

  Tobin gestures for us to follow him through the open door. Braxton hesitates, as do
I.

  “Is there a problem, Captain?” Tobin asks Braxton.

  “No, sir!”

  We pass Tobin into a narrow hallway. He advises us to enter the first door on our left: the guards’ quarters, which is completely vacant. The beds look like they haven’t been used in weeks. Tobin closes the door once we’re all inside.

  “What happened to you?” Braxton asks, his finger caressing the trigger of his Levin gun.

  “This is what Vladim does to you when you don’t cooperate,” Tobin says, his hand still on the door handle.

  “How did they capture you and Gage back at the Dormitories?” I ask.

  “They came at us from the tree line. They used a weapon I’d never seen before. Gage and I were completely paralyzed from the device, so we couldn’t send out the warning. They took us to the Reformatory in Tyre where they tortured us for days.”

  “Gage didn’t break, but you did,” I say, more as a statement than a question.

  “And look where it got him, a firing squad on live television. At least I’m still alive…what’s left of me anyway.” He takes a deep breath.

  I can see confusion in his eyes. He’s trying to decide what to do next.

  “It was wrong of you to come here, Braxton,” Tobin says. “I’m sorry, old friend, but he got here before you did.”

  Tobin opens the door and Commander Caderyn walks in. The room fills with soldiers before we have a chance to react. Braxton is removed from the room quickly. I fight with the soldiers taking him, but I’m still not at full strength from the other night so I’m finally face-planted onto the concrete floor. Bevan is placed into custody, as is Piran. Vier, Lehen, and I are taken to the holding cells on the main floor, just outside the Cylinder. We aren’t kept together, but are only a few cells a part. The minute my cell door closes, I try to get out, but in my weakened condition it’s useless.