“I don’t want you hanging around my daughter anymore,” he told me.
I didn’t know how to respond to that.
“We’ve been best friends for years,” I told him. “How can I just not be friends with her anymore?”
“She has become a woman,” he says. “She has to start looking for a husband soon. I don’t want you to get in the way.”
“But we’re just friends,” I said.
“Men and women can’t be just friends,” he said. “I know that you’re only her friend because you’re in love with her.”
“That’s not true at all!” I said.
“You’re the kind of kid who would try to sleep with her illegally,” he said. “I used to be a young man your age, so I know how it is. You have to be responsible and disciplined in order to control hormones at your age, but responsibility and discipline are two things you know nothing about.”
“I would never try to persuade Nova to sleep with me,” I say.
“Maybe so,” he says. “But I don’t want you hanging around her anymore. Just in case.”
“You can’t stop me,” I told him. “And I doubt you’d be able to stop her, either.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “But I can persuade you.”
He went into his wallet and pulled out twenty McDonald’s bucks. Each one was worth a hundred credits.
“I’ll give all of this to you if you never speak to her again,” he tells me.
Then he put the money in my pocket. I tried to take it out, but he just pushed it back in.
“This is the easy way,” he told me. “You don’t want to do this the hard way.”
He wouldn’t let me back into the party, so I walked home with the money. The next day I told Nova all about what happened. She decided that we should spend the money and then hang out even more than before.
“But what if he tries to separate us the hard way?” I asked her, as we sat up in a tree.
“That’s what he always says,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. I know how to threaten him a lot more than he knows how to threaten me.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask.
“Yeah. I’ll just tell him that if he tries to separate us again then I’ll have sex with you out of spite.”
When she looked at me, she noticed my face was blushing. It made her smile.
Before we get into our vehicle, the Chief looks at me. He squints his eyes and then nods his head.
“You’re the Togg boy,” he says.
“That’s right,” I say.
“Funny meeting you here,” he says, digging his finger into his ear and then examining the wax he collected. “Back when you were kids, it seemed every time I saw my November outside of the home you were always there by her side. Even in the wasteland, you two won’t stay apart.”
“She saved my life from the Bitches,” I say, hoping that Nova doesn’t hear me using the term bitches.
“It’s like old times,” he says, sniffing at his finger. “Old times.”
They load us into the trucks and head off down the road. I ride with Robby and the Captain, wishing I would have been in the same vehicle as Nova and her sisters.
When we get to the facility, it is a much larger place than I had expected. The building is ten times the size of the McDonaldland mall. It is like a small city inside of a fortress. The only thing I like about it is the drab gray color of the buildings, which is much more pleasant to look at than the yellow and red of McDonaldland.
Past the main gate, we pull into a parking lot filled with trucks and armored vehicles. We drive up to a building and are greeted by a swarm of mutants with machine guns. When I exit the vehicle, I see Nova being escorted by gunpoint away from the direction I am supposed to go. She looks back at me, her eyes begging for me to do something. I only look back at her with an apologetic expression. The same one she gave me when I was prisoner of the wolf women.
Inside the facility, it looks much like an abandoned mall. Long empty hallways, brown and yellow stained concrete floors, faded white brick walls, paint peeling off of the ceiling. It is unpleasantly warm and emotionally sterile.
Captain Kongun takes me into an office the size of a bathroom. He has me tell him everything I know about the wolf girls. I tell him how many they are, how badly they were crippled after the last attack, and how they are short on supplies. Basically, I told him everything he already knew. If I had any useful information I probably wouldn’t have given it to him, even though I owe the Warriors no favors.
By the end of the conversation, he believes I’m someone who can be trusted and says I will be a good addition to their army. He calls Robby into the office. Robby walks into the room with the hands on his chest curled into fists, like they are fist-shaped breasts.
“I’m going to make him a probationary recruit,” he says to Robby. “I want him by your side every second of every day for the next three months. He’s your responsibility. If he fucks up, you share the consequences.”
Robby nods.
“Now, show him to the barracks,” says the Captain. “There’s an orientation later today. Make sure he attends.”
“So how the hamburglar have you been doing?” Robby asks me with a big smile on his face, as we walk through the dreary corridors toward the barracks.
“Okay,” I say, not in the mood for small talk.
As we walk, we pass mutants of all varieties. They are not in as high spirits as Robby. Most of them look exhausted and depressed. They wear brown jumpsuits that don’t look like they’ve been washed in months.
“It’s great to see you,” he says. “I was hoping some more of my friends would join the Outlanders.”
“Outlanders?” I ask.
“That’s what we call ourselves.”
“The Warriors call you Meat,” I say.
“Warriors?”
“The wolf women. They call themselves the Warriors of the Wild.”
“Oh.” He laughs. “We call them the Bitches.”
I nod my head, but don’t laugh with him.
“You remember Frank, right?” Robby asks.
“Of course,” I say.
“He was here, too,” he says. “We even played poker again a few times. Good old Frank.”
“Where is he now?” I ask.
“Dead,” he says. “Killed by one of those giant wolves.”
I nod my head solemnly. “I’m sorry. I had no idea what happened to the two of you. We both thought it was weird when Frank stopped hanging out, then you disappeared. I don’t know why I didn’t think something was up.”
“Well, you know,” Robby says. “The people in charge of The Blessed McDonald’s Corporation are a bunch of assholes. Their food causes deformities and instead of solving the problem they just get rid of those people infected.”
“I met a guy who works for Research and Development,” I say. “He said that he was trying to find a cure for our deformity.”
Robby chuckles. “Find a cure? Are you kidding?”
As we pass a group of old gray-haired mutants with swollen heads, Robby points at them.
He says, “You see them?”
“Yeah.”
“A few decades ago, the chemicals in the McDonald’s new sugar substitute caused several people to grow tumors which swelled so large that their heads quadrupled in size. Those that survived were just thrown out of the city. The doctors found a cure and the problem was solved.”
He points at another guy, who is covered in rough lizard-like skin. “Then another problem came along. When they tried to make synthetic pork for the McRib, they discovered that many people were allergic to it. The reaction caused permanent skin damage to those who were sensitive. So they kicked those infected out of town and put the McRib project on hold.”
Robby stops and explains the history of the Outlanders.
For generations, the quality of McDonald’s food has been degrading. The food has become more and more processed, infused with more and more chemicals
to synthesize flavors that they are not able to produce naturally due to limited resources. Over the decades, the food has caused a number of new diseases and mutations in the McDonaldland citizenry. Every ten years or so, a new mutation will pop up. Anyone infected is kicked out of McDonaldland and forced to survive in the wasteland.
He says the Outlanders have been around for several generations. They have banded together to help each other survive. They have created lives for themselves. They have children. They live the best they can.
Each outbreak is worse and more widespread than the last. But with each outbreak, their community grows in number. The multi-limb parasite is only the newest outbreak of mutants. However, it is by far the largest outbreak in the history of McDonaldland. Because of this, the Outlander army has become enormous.
Robby doesn’t know the parasite mutating the men has anything to do with the parasite that has been infecting the women for the past hundred years, and it doesn’t seem like any of the other mutants are aware of this either. They just think it is the newest mutation caused by McDonald’s food. Since it is the same parasite, I doubt it is going to be cured easily. They’ve never been able to cure the lycanthropy in women, so I doubt they’ll be finding a cure any time soon for the same parasite in men.
The barracks are absurd. The room is the size of a gymnasium and the bunks go four beds high. Most of them, however, seem empty.
“They had to build this in order to accommodate all of the newcomers that have been joining as of late,” he says.
He brings me to an open bunk.
“Take this one,” he says. “It’s better to get a bottom bunk. Just mess up the covers and people will know that it’s taken.”
I mess up the covers.
“Oh!” he says. “I forgot to tell you something. Your grandpa!”
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Steven Togg! That guy is a legend around here, at least among the old-timers. He really helped get this place into shape. He started their brewery. The beer is about two thousand times better than the crap you used to brew up.”
“Really?” I’m suddenly interested.
“Yeah,” he says. “We all get a beer ration. You’ll have to try it out. Perhaps they’ll even put you to work at the brewery. Besides fighting, we all have to work a maintenance job. The brewery is a good job. There’s also a winery, but the vineyard is so small that we don’t get much of a wine ration. It’s for special occasions.”
He laughs and slaps me on the shoulder. “Yeah, your grandpa did a lot for this community. He got the plumbing going. He helped build vehicles from the old wrecks around the wasteland. He’s like a hero. Too bad he was captured by the Bitches. Nobody heard from him after that.”
Perhaps that’s when grandpa joined the Warriors.
“So what’s this orientation about?” I ask him.
“You’ll get to meet the Mayor,” Robby says. “He’s the leader of the Outlanders.” Then he leans in and whispers in my ear. “He’s an enormous asshole, so don’t do anything to piss him off. I’m serious.”
“You have a Mayor?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Mayor McCheese.”
I’ve heard of Mayor McCheese before. My grandfather told me about him. Back when he was a kid, he used to see the Mayor up on his balcony dictating to his people.
The Mayor was the official leader of McDonaldland. He was the spokesperson for The Blessed McDonald’s Corporation. Originally, he was just a normal executive, but they wanted him to be more than just a regular politician. They wanted him to resemble the God from the McDonald’s Bible. They wanted him to be Mayor McCheese.
So this executive was given reconstructive surgery to look like the fictional character, Mayor McCheese. They made him look like a living cartoon. It must have been a comical sight to see this man walking down the streets of McDonaldland in his purple suit and top hat.
Grandpa said that the Mayor and his friends were kicked out of McDonaldland because of acts of high treason. It was believed that the Mayor wanted to dismantle The Blessed McDonald’s Corporation board of directors, and make himself the supreme leader of the country. My grandpa never knew what had become of him.
It appears that he has joined the Outlanders. However, that would make him almost one hundred years old now. I ask Robby about this and he says that all he knows is there is a rumor that Mayor McCheese was created with so many preservatives during his reconstructive surgery that he can live for a very long time.
When I see Mayor McCheese, he is not as comical-looking as I imagined. His enormous hamburger-shaped head is not like that of a cartoon character. It looks realistic. His head has been cosmetically modified to look like a giant hamburger. The burger, the bun, the condiments, they are all human flesh that has been stretched, twisted, and dyed to look like an authentic McDonald’s cheeseburger.
Mayor McCheese doesn’t dress as the mayor we know from the McDonald’s bible. He doesn’t wear a purple suit with a top hat. He wears a black military uniform with the sleeves removed, bullet belts strapped across his chest, and two shotguns over his shoulders. His body is bulky with enormous gnarled muscles large enough to carry his giant head with ease. His hamburger face is not friendly, it is warped into an angry (almost psychotic) expression. He is the scariest fucking thing I have ever seen.
I am in a room with seven other new recruits. All of them must have just gotten in from McDonaldland this week. They look even more freaked out by Mayor McCheese than I am, perhaps because they didn’t have anyone like Robby to warn them about him first.
With Captain Kongun following close behind, Mayor McCheese paces in front of us, examining his new men.
“I am Mayor McCheese,” he says. When his mouth moves, his entire hamburger head moves with it. “Your new boss. Here in the wasteland life is rough. We have wolves as big as houses who want to feed on weak men such as yourselves. We have pirate Bitches raiding our supply runs and taking our men prisoner to use in sadistic games of mutilation. If you want to survive you have to do exactly what I say when I say it. This is an army and you must respect the chain of command.”
He paces the men and stops in front of me, staring me down. His eyes are bigger than my fists and glossy. They bug out of the bun of his head like that of a toad.
“Your main job will be soldier,” he says. “You will learn to fight. You will learn to work in a team. You will learn to hunt wolves. But first and foremost, you will learn to obey orders. Many of you will not survive the year. Those who do will most likely do so because they followed orders without hesitation.
“You will each be given a job, assigned to you by Captain Kongun,” he points to the bald mutant at his side. “In addition to fighting, you must contribute to our society in one way or another. Perhaps you will work in the mess hall, perhaps in the vineyard, or perhaps in the garage. It all depends on what skills you possess.”
He steps back.
“I will let the Captain take over from here,” he says. “But, before I depart, just remember one thing: if you do not obey, you will be wolf food.”
He glares at me in the eyes again before he departs.
Captain Kongun removes his belt full of chainsaws and then gives us more details about what life will be like for us as Outlanders. He mostly just gets into the etiquette involved and how we are to treat our superiors. He assures us that we will be eaten by wolves if we don’t do exactly as he says.
When it comes time to assign jobs, he asks me for my experience. I tell him I am a brewer like my grandfather, Steven Togg. When I say the name Togg, he doesn’t seem to have ever heard of him before.
“You have experience as a brewer?” he asks with his eyebrows lowered in an aggravated manor. “There are no brewers in McDonaldland. You couldn’t possibly know anything about it.”
“I brewed illegally,” I say. “My grandfather was Steven Togg. He created the brewery here. He taught me everything he knew.”
The Captain eyes me suspiciously. “We d
on’t need any brewers at the moment. What we need is someone to work in meat processing. Do you know anything about meat processing?”
“I don’t think so,” I say. “I used to work in the fry-chopping plant in McDonaldland.”
“That’s close enough,” he says. He waves Robby over to me. “You’ll be working with your friend here.”
“I work in meat processing as well,” Robby says. “You’re going to love it there.”
When Robby takes me from the Captain, he whispers into my ear, “You’re going to hate it there.”
Robby takes me to the meat processing plant at the edge of the facility. He says that I’ll be expected to get to work immediately tomorrow, so today he’ll show me what I’m supposed to do.
“I’m sure you could use a rest after being a prisoner of the Bitches,” he says, “but that’s the way it is around here. Nobody gets a break unless it’s to eat, sleep, or shit. The place is worse than McDonaldland.”
He goes on to explain about how the Outlanders create products to trade with McDonaldland. He also mentions that McDonaldland isn’t the only civilization they trade with. There are other small communities that have developed after the apocalypse. The one they trade with most is a town in southern Texas. That’s where they get their oil, gasoline, and other food products that they can’t grow in this area of the country. They act as a median between McDonaldland and this other community.
“Did you think McDonaldland was the only civilization in the world?” Robby asks. “How do you think they get their oranges to make their orange juice? You ever see any orange trees there. McDonaldland isn’t as self-sufficient as they pretend to be. A lot of their food and supplies come from us or other outside communities.”
In exchange, the Outlanders give the people in Texas beer, wine, and fruits they can’t grow out in the desert. If it wasn’t for the Outlanders both McDonaldland and the other culture wouldn’t be as happy as they currently are.
Warrior Wolf Women of the Wasteland Page 16
