Haven Ward

by Elias Witherow

  I hated this, “N-no King. I ran into some…trouble a-and,” I was stuttering, the words bloated and stuck in my mouth, “I lost the pass. I didn’t get your money.”

  King froze, the match he was holding inches from the bowl. He put them down, face growing dark, “Would you please say that again,” he rumbled.

  I gulped, “I ran into some trouble and…well…I got robbed by Hazmats.”

  King put his head in his hands, “Son of a bitch, Weston. Do you know how much money you’ve cost me?”

  “I’m so sorry King.”

  “You’re sorry?”

  “Really sorry.”

  King stood, raising his voice, “Do you realize that everything the past two days now means nothing?!” I shrank back, scared, afraid, terrified. King had never raised his voice to me.

  He came around the desk and grabbed me, shaking me, “Do you realize that Bird and Mathis died for nothing now?!”

  He shoved me back and I stumbled then tripped, landing on my ass. He stood over me shaking with rage, “I give you a delivery mission and you can’t even get that right! What happened to you, Weston!? You used to be good! You used to be the best kid I had!”

  Tears were running down my face and I sniffed, hating that King saw me like this, “I’m sorry! I did my best! I did everything I could!”

  “You’re best? This is not your best! I’ve seen you at your best and you are far from it!”

  I wiped my eyes, “There’s…something else.”

  “Oh god, what now?”

  “I freaked out when I lost the pass.”

  “As you should have.”

  “I wanted to get your glu for you.”

  King was standing, arms crossed, his eyes impenetrable, “What did you do?”

  “I played…the Draw. And…I lost…big time,” I sobbed.

  “Oh Weston you fool,” King whispered, putting a hand to his face.

  “I’m…in some serious trouble King.”

  “How much do you owe?”

  I scrubbed my face, miserable, “Ten thousand gallons. Liquid glu.”

  King said nothing, the very air from the room sucked out. I watched as the news impacted him. I just wanted to die. I had let King down, I had damned my future, who knows what would happen to poor Ashleign if I was taken away.

  “You owe…” King started then turned away from me, “Weston. Listen hard. There is nothing I can do for you.”

  I climbed to my feet, “King?”

  “I can’t help you.”

  “King please…”

  “Half a gallon of glu…we could have fixed that…worked that out somehow…but this…”

  I took a tentative step forward, “I’m going to be shipped to Haven Ward, King…”

  “I know. I know kid.”

  I reached out and touched him, “I-I don’t want to go to Haven Ward.”

  He turned back around, his eyes cool and his expression sad, “Damn it West, I wish you had come to me first. Don’t you see though? I want to help. If there was any way in hell I could, I would. But this hole is too deep for me to fill.”

  I looked at him blankly. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I thought that King would be able to do something, anything. He was the Dynasty leader! He was like an emperor to me! And here he was telling me that I was dead in the water.

  “W-what am I suppose to do now?” I croaked.

  “Run. Hide. Do everything you can to stay out of that nightmare factory,” he sighed, voice weighted with a deep sadness.

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere Weston. The Hazmats are coming for you. Soon. If you haven’t paid by the end of the day, an alert goes to Haven Ward. They’ll be looking for you.”

  I spread my hands, “I-I don’t even have a gun! How am I supposed to protect myself?”

  King looked at me, “I hate to say this Weston, but they will get you. And when they do, it’s better that you surrender to them instead of shooting them. I’m…I’m sorry.”

  I stood by the door, the feeling of dread in my gut was like a poison, an infection, a thick pus that was seeping into my blood.

  “Bye King,” I finally said after a few seconds of silence. He just stood, staring at the floor saying nothing. I could see the pain in his face.

  I left Dynasty Gern. My only hope had just told me I was screwed. I felt like the world had turned its back on me.

  King was like a god to me. He had been my role model, a strong honest man that I looked up too. He had helped me so much, getting me out of trouble time and time again. I remembered when I first asked him if I could join the tribe, Roland at my side, both of us young, head strong ten year olds. King had laughed at first, but it wasn’t mockery. He was amused, flattered that two kids wanted in so bad. We had had our share of baggage, but nothing King couldn’t handle once we were in the tribe. A few pissed people that we had pick pocketed, a handful of vendors that we stole from, but nothing more. King had silenced this anger towards us and kept us safe. He made sure no one was going to come after us. He always did. Always took care of his men. But now, in this cesspit of misfortune that I was sinking into, he could do nothing. It was a horrible feeling to watch your god-figure turn his back on you.

  It was near dark now and I wished that the night would just swallow me up whole, winking out my existence here and now. There was no way out of this. I had to accept that. But I couldn’t. I felt like I was dreaming. This kind of thing happened to other people, not me. This wasn’t happening to me. I was going to wake up soon and realize I was safe. Safe. Would I ever be again?

  I just wanted to go to sleep. Just lie down and sleep, forget everything that had happened and dream of a place far away. Away from this beast that hunted me, this animal that hungered for my flesh. My tribe abandoned me, a kid, to be stalked by not one, but two predators. I wondered who would get me first, the Hunters or the Hazmats? And if I was taken, what would happen to my sister? She was helpless, unable to work, bedridden by her addiction that squeezed her tighter every day. How could I face her and tell her I was leaving? It would kill her. She would wither away alone in that pile of filth until death or insanity nibbled at her body until there was nothing left.

  I walked the streets well into the night, not wanting to talk or see anyone. I could feel the burning target on my back and part of me wished someone would plant a bullet in it. Finally, exhausted, worn, defeated, I crawled under a house, worming my way to the middle, and fell asleep, the whisper of tears dampening my eyes.

  It was a relief to wake up. I was freezing and the dreams that my mind concocted throughout the night were horrors I didn’t want to dwell on. I lay there, watching feet trudge by as the people began another day. This day was different for me though. Today I was on the run. Today the highest power was looking for me. I shivered at the thought that by tonight I could be in Haven Ward. No. That wasn’t going to happen.

  I lay there, my stomach rumbling, till around noon. I didn’t know what else to do. A couple times I saw the familiar boots of Hazmats marching by. It had started already. They were fast. I wondered if they might not by hunting for me, but another unlucky bastard who had lost the Draw. I crawled out from under the house when I saw someone walking by. Someone who was limping heavily.

  “Psss! Roland!”

  The boy stopped in the middle of the street, looking around, puzzled. His eyes fell on me as I pulled myself out of the dirt. I glanced around, feeling exposed.

  “Weston!” He cried, limping quickly over to me, “God where have you been?! I’ve been looking for you all day!”

  I motioned for him to come around to the back side of the house, away from the street. I squatted down, keeping my eyes peeled for more Hazmats, “I’ve been hiding out. I don’t know what to do Roland, I’m scared out of my mind.”

  “Did you see King?”

  “He pretty much told me I was finished. Doomed to Haven Ward and there was nothing I could do about it.”

  Roland looked surprised
, “Really? He didn’t offer protection or anything?”

  I spread my arms, “What is he going to do? Realistically? We’re a tribe not an army. He can’t stop the Sanction from claiming me. All’s it’d do is spark the destruction of Dynasty. Even though I’m pissed…I know there there’s nothing he can do for me.”

  Roland scratched the back of his head, gingerly testing his wrapped leg, “I guess I’m not much help to you with this huh?”

  I smiled miserably at him, “Don’t sweat it.”

  “I would let you stay at my place, but the Hazmats were kicking down my door early this morning looking for you. I guess someone told them we were friends.”

  “Great.”

  Roland grimaced, “So what are you going to do?”

  I didn’t have an answer for him. If the Hazmats were already looking for me then it was already over. It would almost be easier if I just gave myself up. At least then I knew what was going to happen. But Ashleign. I couldn’t abandon her.

  “I’ll figure something out,” I finally said.

  Roland reached into his cloak and pulled out his pistol, “Take this. You need it more than I do. Plus you were always the better shot.”

  I took it willingly, “Thank you.” I put my hands on his shoulders, “Now look. If I get taken away, you have to watch over my sister. You’re the only other person besides me that knows she exists.”

  Roland smiled weakly, “Hey no worries boss. She’ll be in good hands.”

  I looked at him sharply, “She has an addiction.”

  “I know.”

  “You’ll give her glu right?”

  “Only if you want me to.”

  “Would you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And food?”

  “Of course boss.”

  “You’re a good friend,” I said wearily, “I can’t thank you enough.”

  Roland had something else on his mind but he seemed hesitant to ask. I nodded my head at him.

  “What is it?”

  He licked his lips and said slowly, “Are…are you coming back?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When they take you to Haven Ward. Will you come back?”

  I grunted, running both hands through my hair and turning around, “I...I don’t know what’s going to happen. If I know that Ashleign is protected though, I’ll be ok. No matter what happens.”

  Suddenly Roland’s eyes went wide, “Weston. If the Hazmats have been to my house…then they must have been to yours.”

  I blinked, “So?”

  “Your sister Weston.”

  Oh shit. “How could I be so stupid!” I cried slapping my forehead.

  Roland pointed to the street, “Go. Make sure she’s ok.”

  “She’s tough, she’s ok,” I said, more to myself.

  “I’m sure she is, but you should go anyhow.”

  I checked the street, “Hey Roland?”

  “Yeah?”

  I looked at him. We were both scared, “Everything’s going to be ok, right?”

  He smiled sadly, “You bet boss.”

  I tucked the pistol into my belt and tapped Roland on the chest with my fist, “See you around brother.”

  “Definitely.”

  I took off down the street, not looking back. I knew I’d probably never see my best friend again. I didn’t want to see the sadness in his eyes. It was too much. Too much of a reminder of what awaited me, what fate had in store for me.

  It wasn’t a long walk to my shack, I kept my hood up, hiding my face deep within it. I kept tapping my finger against my leg as I walked, anxious to get to my sister. A pair of Hazmats walked by and I shrunk off to the side as they passed. Not yet. Please don’t let me get caught until I see my sister. I hoped Roland took care of her. He would. He was a good friend. But how would Ashleign take the news? How would she react once I told her I was going away for a while? Deep down I knew she would start to mentally die, each passing hour another nail in her coffin. I was all she had.

  We had been taking care of each other for as long as I could remember. We never knew who our parents were, both of us growing up in the mud of the Gallows, bouncing from place to place, eating scraps and barely surviving. But we had each other. And that’s what got us through the nights where we’d cry from hunger. She always protected me, always was made sure I ate before she did. When she had saved up enough money to buy the vendor, it was like we were kings. On average we made three tabs a day which was used to buy food and eventually the shack we lived in now.

  I had always done the best I could for her, knowing I was probably more of a burden on her then a help. I’d offer to watch the vendor while she went to scrounge for things to sell, I’d try to fix up the shack for her the best I could, little things to brighten her day. Then she had started using glu. Getting high every day. At first I hadn’t realized it, but then we she began to run out, I knew. She was getting sick. I tried to keep the vendor open, but it was just too much. People took advantage of a little kid. One day all my stock was stolen and I had to watch, big tears running down my cheeks, as our income was taken.

  So I had done the only thing left to do. Join Dynasty. It had been Roland’s idea. The thought wouldn’t have even crossed my mind until he mentioned it. I agreed. It was our only hope. It was my turn to step up. My turn to watch out for my family. And I would do anything to protect her.

  Shaking myself out of my memories, I turned up the street to my shack. At first everything appeared ok, normal, safe, but then I heard something that spiked my fears. Screaming.

  “Oh shit no,” I sobbed, now sprinting full out. My legs churned the earth, my feet pounding, pushing me closer to my shack. I recognized the screams. My pistol was in my hand as I flew up the steps.

  I crashed through the front door, knocking it off its rotting hinges, and into the bedroom where I froze. Blood was everywhere. I could barely tell it was my sister tied to the floor. One Hazmat was kneeling over her, working on her. Another was standing in the corner, his mask off, smoking a cigarette, watching.

  “Ashleign!” I screamed, the horrors that splayed out in front of me too grisly to describe. Without stopping to think, a burning fire in my eyes and heat in my blood, I brought my pistol up and shot the Hazmats before they even knew who I was. I stood there panting, breath ragged. I couldn’t believe what was I was seeing. I couldn’t accept that that was my sister on the floor.

  “Oh Christ,” I wept, dropping my pistol and falling to my knees besides my sister. “Oh sis, what have they done to you?”

  What was left of her eyes, met mine, “I..I d-din say…anyfin…” She gargled.

  I held her close to me, tears springing from my swollen eyes, warm and wet, running down my face as I cried with her. We wept, big heaving sobs of anguish as we rocked together, two children just wanting to be loved. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, her blood staining my clothes, her stubs of fingers grasping mine, needing to feel protected.

  “I’m so sorry sister,” I whispered finally, croaking, my eyes blurry, my voice raw from crying, “I should have been here to protect you. Christ help us, I’m so so sorry.” I trailed off, holding her tighter.

  “You…av…to weev…” She finally whispered. “I d-don’t…wan dem…to find…you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I said, clenching my jaw, “I’m staying right here with you. I won’t leave you.”

  She stroked my face, “Pweese…I did dis…cause i…wuv you…don’t…make me…suffer for…nofink…fly…free…Weston.”

  Trembling, hands clinging to hers, slick with blood, I watched her die. Nothing more than a final shuddering of breath, then nothing. I leaned down and placed my head on her chest, my body shaking as I wept, racked with sobs. She was dead. I couldn’t believe it. She was dead and I had been hiding in the dirt because I was scared. A shivering little rat with his face in the dirt while his sister was tortured, unwilling to give an inch, all for the love of her brother.

>   Darkness fell and I sat against the wall, just me and the bodies. My face was dry, my tears evaporated into the rank air of death. The pistol was still in my hand.

  I put it in my mouth, “Fuck it.”

  A fraction of a second before I pulled the trigger, Hazmats stormed my shack. They came in shouting and yelling, guns raised, barking orders, telling me to put the gun down, give up, don’t be stupid. Overhead I heard the low rumble of a hover as it passed and landed in the street, more neon green-black uniformed men pouring out, coming for me. I sat there, eyes half lidded in hatred that ran so deep I could taste its foul bitter sting in the back of my throat.

  “You bastards,” I whispered at them. There were at least ten of them cramped into my house, guns trained on me, still ordering me to put the gun down.

  Instead I pulled it out of my mouth and lazily shot one in the head, smiling. I shut my eyes as they charged me, kicking the gun out of my hand and beating me with the butts of their rifles till I began to lose consciousness.

  As I began to black out I thought to myself, at least I took another one out before they drag me off to hell. The next hour was nothing but a slideshow of scenes as I faded in and out of consciousness.

  Yelling, pain, blackness, blur, white, more pain, moving, elevated, dropping, lifting, dragging, shoving, pushing, nauseous, dead, Ashleign, over, everything, floating, flying, straps, buckles, clips, tight, can’t breathe, breathing, sharp objects, needles, grunting, sweating, blood, copper taste, faint, light headed, throw up, punching, kicking, beating, screaming, blackness again. Sweet, sweet sleep.

  When I came to, I realized that I was on a Hover, tight restraints holding me down on a stretcher. My vision was blurry, red, blood leaking into my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was still alive after they knocked the shit out of me. Hazmats surrounded me, all sitting or standing within arm reach of my stretcher. This feeling in my stomach, this odd turning, flipping, gravity defying bubble in my stomach was the sensation of flight I realized. I’d never flown before. Too bad my first trip was straight into the clutches of damnation.