“All clear for the grand finale,” Lloyd says over the walkie-talkie. The faint sound of a song about fire can be heard when he is not speaking, which makes the young woman smirk. “Found our friend Baxter in the dark. As we feared, he was born without a brain. So I took his head and put a bomb in it. Should be a fun surprise if it goes off. Oh, and they left everything in here except for the sensors that Bart gave us. Ready to go?”
“Meet you on the other side of the ridge,” Cassidy says, tossing the sniper rifle and walkie-talkie over the edge. She pulls the rough blanket away to reveal a rocket launcher with a single shot already loaded. “Sorry that I have nothing cool to say here, Lloyd. I’m just ready to get this over with.”
Cassidy aims for the tractor trailer, which has been filled with explosives that range from powerful fireworks to homemade material that their supplier was only too eager to offer. As the rocket heads for the installation and the guards stare in horror, she wonders if her expectations are too high. Not knowing much about explosives beyond grenades and a few landmines, it dawns on her that this final blow could be rather disappointing. Her fears are put to rest when the truck explodes with a boom that rattles the area and sets off the activated car bombs. Cassidy covers her ears with her hands as she is knocked off her feet and sent rolling down the hill to where Lloyd is waiting for her.
“Off to California?” he asks with a grin.
“Off to California,” the blonde replies as she limps to the jeep. She opens the passenger side door and turns to glare at her friend. “Why is there blood all over the seat? You know, don’t say anything. Just shut the fuck up, Lloyd. I’m driving while you clean this mess. You can spend the rest of this trip with an ass that smells like a slaughterhouse.”
“There’s just no pleasing you.”
“Get in the car, Lloyd!”
Iron City by the Bay
After parking on the far side of Interstate 80’s final stretch across the water, Cassidy and Lloyd take in the unexpected sight before them. The young woman is clutching her locket as she stares at the distant Golden Gate Bridge, which is covered in what she assumes are abandoned cars. The rest of San Francisco is surrounded by an immense wall of metal panels that remind the travelers of something out of a dystopian novel. A wide channel has been carved along the southern border to turn the city into a fortified island, making the two bridges the only access points to the mainland. Only gulls and seals are in sight, which adds to the sense of mankind abandoning the area. A shift of the wind brings the smell of rotting meat to the pair, the foul odor doing nothing to improve the atmosphere. They assume it is a large shark that has washed up on shore, but they silently fear that the smell is from something much more ominous.
Using her binoculars, Cassidy feels her stomach tighten when she spots gun turrets at the top of the wall, all of the weapons aiming for the bay and bridges. Examining their only path across the water, she notices several telltale, blinking lights on the struts. Her mouth moving without making a sound, Cassidy counts the explosives and stops at ten. From the bombs’ positions, she knows they are a final defense built out of sheer paranoia and no restraint was used in preparing them. Once detonated, the devices will obliterate an enemy-infested bridge and leave only one path to San Francisco. She wonders if the locals have done the same to the Golden Gate Bridge, but all she can do is hope they would not be crazy enough to destroy one of the few remaining national landmarks. Even as she finishes the thought, several examples of insanity come to mind and prove that it is entirely possible.
“Call me paranoid, but I think it’s better to go around and get to the bridge from the other side,” Lloyd suggests while rummaging through his shirts. Finding one of a bunch of colorful, spandex-wearing superheroes, he sniffs the collar and decides it is the best of his collection. “It’s obvious that those people don’t want company. Unless there’s a really bad door-to-door salesman infestation here, which means a giant wall is a perfectly reasonable reaction. I’ve played enough video games to know that vehicles set up like they are on the bridge are for cover too. Sadly, neither of us fit the bill for a shaved bear in body armor with a gun the size of a park bench.”
“The bridge is set to blow too,” Cassidy points out, tossing the binoculars into the jeep. She can see that there is a single path along the middle of the bridge, which would leave them exposed to the gun turrets and any other ambushes. “I’d rather do this with permission from the locals. Last thing I want is to get sniped for trespassing after coming so far. What do you think about using a white shirt as a flag? We can put it on the jeep’s antennae since we never use the radio.”
“All of our white clothes have red marks on them,” Lloyd points out, scratching his head with the sheathed machete. A school of dolphins pass through the bay, the animals turning away from the bridge to go back the way they came. “I know this is our grand finale and it should be full of excitement, but I don’t like this. Every city we’ve found that should have been walled off and isolated was exposed to the world. I can’t help wondering why this is the one place that is locked up. Maybe the locals are cross-breeding or simply waiting for a chosen one to born and free them from a crazed warlord. You know there is a third-”
“We’re going to San Francisco and granting my mom’s final wish.”
“As you wish.”
“Just take what you need and lock the jeep.”
Already armed with a shotgun, Cassidy grabs her favorite pistol and puts on the pea coat even though the thick jacket makes her sweat. As an afterthought, she hangs the binoculars around her neck while Lloyd takes his machete and a bottle of beer. It takes a few minutes to booby-trap the jeep against being stolen, each one designed to severely injure anyone who tries to get inside. A pack of Wilders appear from down the shore, their greedy eyes locked on the potential prize. The shaggy, almost primal humans are surprised when Cassidy undoes one of the traps and tosses them a bag of food. When she pats the side of the vehicle, one of the men nods his head in understanding and divides the down payment on their help among the others.
The travelers keep their hands up as they step onto the bridge and begin the long walk toward the looming city. Stopping after several minutes, Cassidy listens for a robotic buzzing that comes and goes every few yards. Pretending to tie her shoe, she notices that one of the abandoned cars has a camera behind the windshield. Continuing on, the young woman hears the device follow them until they are out of range and another picks them up. Glancing at Lloyd, she watches him track another camera and try his best not to make faces at whoever is spying on them. The fact that they have not been shot yet gives her some hope, but it could also be that they are not in range of the guns. As they pass Treasure Island, a strong wind returns the smell of rotting flesh to their noses. The artificial landmass is nothing more than a dumping ground for bodies, which has turned the area into an isolated plague swamp.
Eyes still tearing from the stench, they reach the fortified door to San Francisco, which has the name spray-painted in golden letters. Pigeons wander the rocky coastline and peck at any edible trash that they can claim before the prowling rats. The ringing of a trolley can be heard from inside the city as well as faint voices, which stop when Cassidy grabs a hammer and uses it to knock. Keeping themselves close to the entrance, the travelers do their best to stay out of the gun turrets’ sight. They are so nervous that the crackling of a nearby intercom makes them jump behind a nearby crate.
“State your business,” a woman says in a slightly robotic tone. A screech followed by a hum bursts from the device before the voice continues in a more human form. “The city of San Francisco welcomes all outsiders as long as they do not mean us any harm. I see that the two of you are armed, which is disconcerting.”
“Sorry, but we’ve come from New York,” Cassidy explains, holding up her locket to what she thinks is a camera lens. Wiping sweat from her brow, the blonde takes the woman’s silence as a request for more information. “My mother was killed and
her remains are in this locket. Her dying wish was to have her ashes thrown off the Golden Gate Bridge. She kept me alive when everything went to hell, so I owe her this and so much more. We’ve fought through a lot of dangers to get here, including Nebraska. Please let us through to honor my mother’s wishes and we’ll leave your territory as soon as we finish.”
“That is a touching story,” the woman replies, sniffling as if she is crying. The camera whirrs as it changes position, the lens focusing on Lloyd. “The man looks too close to your age to be your father. Not sure I trust him. Something about his smile makes me think he is planning trouble. What is your reason for this journey?”
“I’m her friend and bodyguard,” Lloyd replies, showing that his hands are nowhere near the machete. Remembering that he is holding his paintball gun, he turns the weapon to show that it is non-lethal. “She needed help and got me out of a jam, so I owe her. Then a lot of adventures happened and we lost score. If Cassidy wasn’t here then I’d say I’m in the lead, but we’ll go with a tie. Would it be easier if we go around to the other side of the bridge? That way we don’t have to enter your city.”
A click signifies that the intercom has been turned off on the other side, forcing the travelers to wait in silence. A pelican lands on the railing and stares at them for five minutes before one of the wall gunners fires. The short burst pounds into a nearby car door, which creaks and clatters onto the ground. Glancing at the source of the noise, the bird stretches its wings and flies away to leave the terrified pair to more even more. Something about the animal not having any fear toward the loud noises gives the travelers goosebumps and a bad case of dry mouth. When they hear a distant gunshot and see a body launched into the bay, Cassidy and Lloyd strongly consider returning to the jeep.
“Sorry about what you saw,” the woman says with a laugh. There is a sense that she is smiling, which does nothing to put her potential guests at ease. “A man wasted his last chance and we had to remove him from our community. Being visitors, you don’t have to worry about that part of our constitution. Now, I feel it would be beneficial for you to enter San Francisco. It is the only way to your destination. We have a mile of mines defending the far end of our beloved bridge, so that path would be suicide. Neither of you strike me as wanting to die, which means through this gate you have to go.”
“Thank you. I promise we’ll be quick,” Cassidy swears, ignoring the doubt etched on her friend’s face. Turning away from the intercom and politely holding up a finger, she lowers her voice to talk in private. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to vomit. Is it the smell from that plague swamp?”
“You know that isn’t what my face looks like,” Lloyd snaps, his fingers wiggling from the desire to kill. He nervously licks his chapped lips while taking another look at their desolate surroundings. “Probably nothing, but I really don’t trust this place. Hard for me to say this, but let’s be careful here. I don’t want you letting your guard down because we’re at the last chapter. That’s how tragic endings happen and we’ve made too many friends and enemies to be a one-shot story.”
“I’ll stay alert, but this is what I have to do,” the blonde whispers, his companion’s anxiety making her wonder if she is missing something. With the giant wall in her path, there is no way to figure out if they are walking into a friendly metropolis or a haven for psychopaths. “Maybe I’m distracted, which makes sense. Then all I can do is push forward and trust you to be my bodyguard. More importantly, I need you to be my friend here. Either we walk in there together or we both turn back in defeat.”
“Wish we had the mine locator on the jeep.”
“Are you with me, Lloyd?”
“I still know of a thi-”
“Are you with me, Lloyd?”
The serial killer nods his head and reaches out to touch the locket, the exterior starting to tarnish. “Once more into the unknown we go. If this gets me killed then I’m so telling your mother on you. Unless I get to come back as some warrior of hell or the only guy able to recapture a bunch of escaped souls. Think this is a story where heroes and villains can come back from the dead no matter what?”
“Doubt it because then my mom would be back,” Cassidy replies, turning to face the intercom. She takes a sharp breath and smiles at the camera, hoping they have not kept the woman waiting for too long. “Sorry about that. We were discussing our decision and have agreed to continue. Thank you for helping us.”
“Stand clear of the doors,” a man orders from inside the city.
With the bangs and clicks of large deadbolts, the entrance begins to open and forces the travelers to back away. They can see explosives wired to the hinges, the bombs designed to collapse the upper part of the wall. As the doors swing wide, fifty soldiers aim their machineguns at the outsiders’ heads. Two people come out to slap handcuffs on Lloyd and Cassidy before another group of guards uses stun guns on the prisoners as an extra precaution. Standing above the unwelcoming committee of San Francisco, a woman with patchy, blonde hair and one eye watches the operation. Wearing a white dress that is stained with old blood and a crude circlet of wood, Mayor Trudy Bellis smiles like a demented wolf.
“Loved ones tend to stay dead in most stories, especially if it’s an origin tale,” Lloyd mentions as they are dragged into the city.
“Do I even have to tell you what I want to say?” Cassidy angrily slurs before getting zapped again. Drool slipping from her mouth, she glares at the proud woman who is congratulated her men. “This won’t end well.”
“For who?”
“Not sure yet.”
“Oh, I hope it’s for that third solider on the right because I don’t like his three prong beard.”
Not wanting them to talk any more, two of the locals carefully hit the travelers in the back of the head with padded baseball bats. Darkness filling their vision, Lloyd and Cassidy are confused as to why they are not being killed immediately. The last thing they hear before passing out is something about impure ones and how the true citizens are one step closer to reviving the great United States of America.
*****
Ice cold water jolts Cassidy and Lloyd back to consciousness, the two of them shivering in their soaked clothes. They are surprised to find that they are no longer bound and have all of their weapons, but the line of armed soldiers dissuades them from fighting back. A huge crowd surrounds the wooden stage where the prisoners and Mayor Bellis stand, the one-eyed woman discussing the event with her well-dressed aide. Built into the middle of the floor is a metal shaft ending in a collection of rusty bars that have been fixed to the concrete. The tear-inducing smell reminds the prisoners of a sewer, which does not make the threat of falling any better. Noticing a few jugs of oil that are topped with soaked rags, Cassidy and Lloyd realize that the threat of impalement and disease are not the only things they have to worry about. The crowd stops cheering when the aide leaves the stage and their leader holds up her hands for silence. She picks up a microphone from the floor and blows gently on it to make sure the battery is charged.
“If only my dear husband, Senator Gary Bellis, was alive to see this,” Trudy announces to the solemn whispers of the crowd. She waits for the mild noise to stop, making sure to scratch at her eyepatch and bring attention to the old injury. “He saw that we would be betrayed by our allies and knew the enemies within our borders would take advantage of the blockade. So he escaped the destruction of DC and worked to revive our damaged nation. My dear husband chose San Francisco as the new capital and all of you came to believe in his vision. Within our first year, we had erected the wall and destroyed the enemies at our doorsteps. Then the criminals who have thrived on America’s carcass killed Senator Bellis . . . my husband when all he wished to do was offer a home to the pure ones who were still lost out there. I was lucky to have made it back here and report that no such people exist in the so-called Shattered States. After a decade, the only creatures outside our walls are animals and anarchists. They eat each other, fornicate
with beasts, indulge in every sin imaginable, and revel in our greatest nation’s execution. All we can do now is wait patiently for them to destroy themselves and execute all who are foolish enough to enter our city.”
“All I wanted was to honor my mother,” Cassidy growls, taking a step toward the mayor. A soldier fires a bullet at the stage, which stops the confused prisoner from advancing. “You could have told us to go away and we would have listened. Instead you plan on killing us for nothing more than living outside of your city. How can you condemn millions of people simply because of their location?”
“I’m more confused on how her husband found out about the attack and why he didn’t warn any of his friends,” Lloyd interjects, flipping off the crowd as they curse at him. The serial killer spits into the shaft before pretending to listen for its impact like a movie character testing to see how far down it goes. “I’m not saying anything mean about him. Probably had enough good intentions to pave a very pretty road. Yet one would think he’d try to get as many of our leaders out as possible.”
“Others survived and now they are hunted,” Mayor Bellis replies as if that explains the situation. Turning to Cassidy, she adopts a pout and gently strokes the younger woman’s dirt-marked face. “Such a beautiful person on the outside, but I can tell that you’re rotten on the inside. Not only because you are friends with an infamous murderer. You’ve killed and stolen and caused pain to others, which has made you damaged goods. If your mother truly loved you then she would have used a bullet to save you from such suffering.”
“Such brave words when you have soldiers and an entire city of brainwashed followers behind you,” Cassidy says while cracking her knuckles. Knowing she cannot get a shot off before getting killed, the blonde calmly puts her hands in her pockets. “The truth is that I don’t give a shit. Not about you, your husband, the old world, or anything other than doing what I have to do. So let us go and you’ll never see us again.”
Crossing Bedlam Page 32
