After that, we remained silent for a time, the minutes passing like years. I longed to be out fighting by King’s side, cutting down the Hunters. Avenge Bird and Mathis, my two fallen privates. I wondered how Roland was fairing through all this. King would protect him, just like he was protecting me. I knew I shouldn’t worry, but I couldn’t help it. You’ve got enough problems to deal with, I thought.
“Bones,” I said, breaking the stillness, “Can we talk about my blood now?”
“Oh damn it, Weston…”
I turned and looked him in the eye, “Look, I’m tired of wondering what going to happen to me. I could die or be dragged away at any second. I’d like to know where I’m going and why I’m so damn special.”
“Section 36.”
I blinked, “What?”
“They’re going to take you to Section 36,” Bones said darkly, turning away from me.
I felt my heart sink, my mouth going dry, “Bones…Bones why are they taking me there. Bones I’m going to die there. I can’t go there, I can’t. You know as well as I do that people taken there don’t come back!”
Bones stood up, crossing the room, his voice pained, “I’m sorry Weston! I really am! I wish there was something I could do, but I can’t!”
I stood as well, “Why are they taking me there? What are they going to do to me?!”
Bones said nothing, the corner of his eyes filling with tears.
I pounded the wall, “Damn it Bones!”
He sniffled, then said quietly, “They’re going to harvest your blood. You’ll be kept alive, but you’ll never be able to leave. With your blood, they’re going to make Golden Glu.”
I was breathing hard, panic rising like an ocean wave, “What? What’s Golden Glu?! And why is it me?!”
“It’s your blood type. It’s incredibly rare these days. Only a handful of people have it. And with it, you can make an elite glu. A glu that if injected, gives you the strongest high out there. It’s said to be almost too strong, taking your mind to the very edge of ecstasy.”
“I didn’t even know such a thing existed,” I said, pacing, running my hands through my hair.
“There’s more. Because it’s such a rare blood type, people are willing to pay a lot of glu for it. Do you know how much just an ounce of your blood is worth?”
I shook my head.
“About five gallons of glu.”
“God…” I said. I had no air, my throat tightening. No wonder Progg had helped me out. I was making him rich.
“There’s people in Red City who want this Golden Glu. People with your blood type. And here’s why it’s so expensive; only people with your blood type can use it. AB-. It’s a coveted thing among junkies and there’s plenty of rich ones in Red City. Sure they can shoot up with regular glu, but that’s made with O blood. It’s common. It’s what most people have.”
“Why don’t they just use that then?!” I yelled.
“Why would they settle for that when they can obtain something so much better? They don’t want to use the same stuff the Gallow dwellers use! They think they’re better than us so they want a better glu. And that’s where you’re blood comes in.”
“Shit…” I whispered, mind wild.
He continued, “Most of us get blood drawn once a week. The ones of us with O, myself included. They then use that to make the blue tabs and liquid glu. Almost no one knows about this. All these prisoners having no idea what’s being done. They think it’s just a check-up. All these…” he swung his hands about, “Oblivious animals in here.”
“How can they hide a secret like this?!” I gasped.
Bones snorted, “It’s only a secret to us. The people from the Gallows. Red City and Midtown know damn well what’s going on here in Haven Ward.”
“Then why aren’t they doing anything about it!? It’s cannibalism!” I screamed.
“Not to them,” Bones said sadly, “They don’t consider us human. We’re rats, scraping through life. We’re mud, dirt, shit. They don’t care about us. They don’t even think about it. If they can profit from our suffering then that’s all they care about. There’s no more drugs in the world Weston. People are going crazy for a high. Do you think an addicted world gives a damn about where that high comes from?!”
I was stunned. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
Bones collapsed on his bed, “It’s a sick world, kid.”
“How do you know about this?” I asked, turning to him.
He grimaced, “Because I was born in Red City.”
I stared, “What?”
“It’s true. I lived there till I was six. I don’t remember much except my parents getting high. After that…well…they decided it was costing them too much to take care of a kid. They only cared about shooting up. It was their world. And I was obstructing that. So one day my dad came into my room, picked me up, flew his Hover to the Gallows and kicked me out.”
“That’s…awful. I didn’t know.”
“So there I was, this rich spoiled little kid, wandering around the Gallows, having no clue what to do. I tried talking to the Hazmats, but they just beat me. They wouldn’t believe I was from Red City. No one did. And that’s when Dynasty found me. I was getting picked on by the Hunters. Hassled. So they saved me and took me in. Eventually I was chosen as the new leader. You know the rest.”
“That’s terrible,” I said quietly. “You must have been out of your mind.”
He nodded, “It wasn’t easy. I don’t remember most of it. I was young. Only the really horrible things stand out anymore.”
I let it be after that. I could tell his mind was reliving the terrors he had suffered. I couldn’t imagine. I lay down on my bunk, my thoughts turning to my future. It was over. I was going to be transferred to Section 36 and my blood would be drained. I would suffer down there till I died.
“Bones,” I said after a time, “When are they going to come for me?”
The old man wiped his eyes, “You should have a while kid. Usually they only take adults down there. They have more blood. It wouldn’t surprise me if you were here for another ten years.”
I breathed a little easier. At least I had some time. A lot could happen in ten years. Maybe the Sanction would be overthrown by then. I quickly pushed that thought aside. There was nothing more wretched than hope.
Suddenly the door to our cell slid open. Progg walked in, his mask and goggles back on. I stood up.
“Come here Weston.”
Not knowing what was happening, I did as was told.
He grabbed the back of my neck and leaned forward so Bones wouldn’t here, “I want more blood. Now.”
“Ok, ok, relax, I have two more vials for you, but you better kill Nark. And I mean now. I’m tired of sitting around in here twiddling my thumbs wondering if you’ve done it or not.”
He gripped my neck harder, “Just give me the blood.”
I reached down into my boot, noticing how Bones was staring at us, and pulled out the little vials, covering them so our curious audience wouldn’t see. Progg snatched them up and stored them away. He didn’t let go of my neck. Instead he spoke loudly.
“You’re going to see the Warden Martin to speak to him about the murder of inmate known as Nark. Keep your mouth shut and don’t cause any trouble.”
My heart froze, “What the hell Progg?! What are you doing!?”
Progg continued so Bones would be able to witness, “Nark was found dead in his cell this morning. Murdered. Hazmats recall you sneaking around outside your cell. No one knows how you did it but witnesses saw you leaving Nark’s cell.”
I spun around to Bones, “What is going on?! Bones I was here all morning, tell the man!” Bones was about to speak when Progg pointed a gauntleted finger at him.
“If you protect this kid, you’re an accomplice. I’d think very, very hard about what’s happening and exactly what you can do about it.”
Bones looked at me, his eyes pleading, “Damn it Weston…they’re setting
you up!”
“This is bullshit Progg!” I screamed.
Progg pulled out handcuffs and slapped them around my wrists, “Shut up. I’m taking you to the Warden. He wants to talk to you. And he’s not happy.”
“Progg why the hell are you doing this!?” I cried, being dragged out the door. I looked back at Bones who was shaking his head, distraught.
Progg tightened his grip on me, “There’s been a lot of shit happening and the Warden wants someone to pay. When Nark was killed this morning he was livid. Especially in light of the riot. You’ve been a suspect before, you’ve got two dead Hazmats on your record, and everyone knows you had beef with Nark.”
I tried to shake free, “Damn it, you killed him!”
Progg put his gun on me, “If you don’t stop struggling I’m going to shoot your legs out and drag you up.”
I stopped fighting, “Why are you setting me up!? Why are you going back on your word?”
Progg snorted, “My word? I don’t owe you shit. I saw an opportunity to make money and I took it. You were a fool to trust me. I don’t want the Sanction looking too deeply into this mess so I need to produce the killer or my ass is going to be on the line. Lucky for me, I found one.”
“You go to hell,” I growled feeling my back begin to sprout sweat.
Progg laughed as we took the all too familiar elevator, “I’m afraid that’s where you’re going.”
The familiar blinding light of Warden Martin’s office assaulted my eyes as we reached the top. The office looked completely different. Instead of the neat and orderly set up, instead of everything being carefully put in its designated place, the room was trashed. The chairs were broken, the globe was split in half, papers were tossed about the room and Martin’s sword was stuck in the top of his desk as if he had chopped it then left it.
Martin himself looked a mess. His long black hair was sweaty and sticking up, uncombed and dirty, his glasses were crooked, and his black suit was wrinkled and stained. His face was a mask of fury, his eyes boring into me as the elevator stopped. Sweat was dripping from his nose, his cheeks red and puffed as he breathed.
“Weston!” He called out to me, his voice sharper than any blade, “You’ve really done it now!”
I stepped forward, planning on defending myself when Progg slugged me in the back with the butt of his rifle. I went to my knees, gasping.
“No more excuses!” Martin yelled, walking over to me. “I don’t want to hear one more lie out of your lips! I have given you many opportunities and chances to prove to me you’re honest. That you weren’t like the rest of this filth! And what do you do? You fuck me, West. You bend me over and you fuck me. Do you think I like being fucked?”
I shook my head, staring at his shoes, not daring to get up.
Martin grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him, “I warned you. Was my public execution of your cell mate not clear to you?! Did that not convince you I was serious?!”
“Please Warden, if I could explain,” I mumbled.
Martin laughed, “What is there to explain?! Hazmat’s saw you coming out of his cell this morning! How you actually did it is beyond me, especially since we’re in lockdown, but you’ve proven you’re a smart kid. I’m sure you thought of something.”
“I was set up,” I said, taking a shot in the dark. I wondered how much Progg paid the Hazmats.
Martin slapped me across the face, the blow coming out of nowhere, “Shut! Don’t insult my intelligence! If I had a tab of glu for every time I heard that, I’d be able to buy the entirety of Red City. It’s disgusting. And it’s pathetic. All these worms wriggling and writhing trying to slither out of their responsibility. Well guess what, I’m not buying it.”
I had nothing to lose, “Damn it I’m not lying! I paid Progg to kill him! I gave him vials of my blood! He’s the murderer, he’s responsible. If I’m going down, then so is he!”
Martin was motionless, staring at the both of us, his fingers forming a steeple. After a few tense moments he said, “Are you mocking me?”
“What?”
He knelt down to my level, “Do you think I’d hire dirty guards? Do you think I’d employ men who were corrupt and swam in the muddy waters of crime?!”
I was speechless, not believing what I was hearing.
Martin continued, “If these guards were corrupt, than the infection would be incurable. Don’t you want to cleanse this earth of disease?”
My throat was dry, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The world is suffering from an epidemic. And that epidemic is filth. It’s everywhere. It’s inside all of us, it’s consumes our lives. It stains our clothes, it smudges our faces, it runs out of us.” He ran his hands through my hair, grimacing, “It’s the grease in your hair, it’s the plaque on your teeth, it’s the sweat on your skin. It’s the murder that surrounds us, it’s the violence that eats away at our livelihood. If we don’t take control of what’s happening, if a select few of us don’t take a stand against this, then soon we’ll all drown in the coming flood of chaos.”
I shook my head.
Martin glared at me, “What?!”
“Nothing.”
“What is it!?”
I looked him in the eyes, “You’re completely insane.”
He looked like he was going to strike out, but instead he smiled sadly, “I wouldn’t expect a mud rat like yourself to understand my vision. I’ve been chosen to lead this rebellion out of the marsh these inmates are stuck in. I’ve been cleansed. I’m completely pure and so are the Hazmats I hired. It’s why they’re hired. Because they strive for the same vision.”
I laughed, “You can fool yourself into thinking you’re better than the rest of us, you can think your Hazmats are…are your ‘guardians of light’, but in reality we’re all shit. Every single one of us. And deep down, you know that too. If you’re so pure then why do you indulge in murder? I saw the fire in your eyes when you went to quell the riot. I saw the madness as you killed Titan. So no. You’re not special. You’re full of shit.”
By the end of my speech, Martin was trembling with rage. He kicked me in the stomach and grabbed my throat, “Liar! I have been chosen! I am the law!”
I coughed, “You aren’t worth more than a bucket of piss.” This earned me another boot.
“Think what you want, you little rat. I am above all of you and don’t you forget it!”
I lay there gasping.
Martin ran his hand through his hair, “Now I can’t kill you because of your blood. It’s too valuable. Don’t think you’re getting off easy though. You’ve defied me and you’re going to pay for it.”
I waited.
“I was going to wait until you were older, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll still make a killing off you.”
I looked up.
Martin smiled. He nodded to Progg, his voice colder than a winter storm, “Take him to Section 36.”
I stood, heart hammering, “No!”
Martin ignored me, his back turned, walking to the window and staring out at the ocean.
Progg grabbed me.
I felt my blood turning to ice, “You can’t do this to me! Don’t send me there! Martin this isn’t right! Martin!”
He said nothing as I was hauled away, his justice dealt.
Chapter 13
So this was it. I was to be taken away, thrown down into the hell of Section 36 where I’d spend the rest of my life as a living blood bank. Forgotten, ignored, nothing but a tool in which others got rich off. Despair hugged me tight in its dark arms, squeezing me, welcoming me. I felt as if my heart was decaying, flakes of it drying up and peeling off, a lifeless void.
Progg’s gun was all too present as it dug into my back, pushing me forward, towards the far end of Section Z, past Fahrenheit Block, past Celsius Block, further, further, my footsteps lost in ears that did not hear. The world seemed to be melting, thick chunks of metallic wax running down the walls, my feet slowing as they plodded through a
sticky goo. I shook my head quickly, clearing my head. I was exhausted, my dreams and vision colliding.
Eventually, after an eternity of walking, we reached a checkpoint. Two barred steel doors slithered out of the wax and confronted us. I tried to focus. I heard Progg talking to Hazmats, clearing me, ordering them to open the door. I heard my name, but it slurred and dripped onto the floor. I opened my eyes wide. Focus Weston.
We passed the checkpoint, the doors opening before us, and we stepped into an enclosed elevator. The door shut behind us and Progg punched in numbers on the keypad. With a jerk, we descended.
“You’re going to die for this,” I muttered.
Proff snorted, “Bluff all you want. You’re never getting out of here alive. You served your purpose, made me a rich man, and now you’re going in the trash.”
“Hell is going to eat you alive,” I growled.
“Just keep your mouth shut. I hate listening to you talk.”
We kept going down, down, down, and I began to wonder if it was ever going to stop. I wanted nothing more than to bite Progg’s throat out. I knew he’d kill me, but it might be better than the alternative.
When we finally stopped and the elevator doors opened, the first thing that I noticed was dripping. Loud, fat drops of water falling from the ceiling making a plunk! The walls were almost completely black, a thick rust coating them, stained from filth. The murk was lit by flickering florescent lights spaced out evenly throughout the length of the long hall. I could see a door at the end, seemingly miles down, waiting for us.
As we walked I felt nothing. It was if my mind was slowly accepting what was happening. This was the end of the line. All I could do was shut myself down, locking down my emotions and letting none out. They would do me no good here. As soon as my fate had been sealed, the order given to take me to his dead end, my conscious self had begun drifting away, leaving my body to whatever vices the Sanction had in store for me. Haven Ward. All the events that had taken place here, all the anger, the suffering, the bloodshed, everything was slipping away, peeling off and floating downstream. They were meaningless, my actions null, because down here all that remained was hopelessness and death. I was now a puppet in the Sanctions play, a device they would use to further establish their foothold among the people. My blood, my body would make them stronger. I was no better than the Hazmats.
Haven Ward Page 14
