King of the Wasteland: Follow-up to Knight of the Wasteland

by Jon Cronshaw

“Damn it, kid. Please, don't kill anyone unless you really, really have to.”

  David nods. Kneeling, he feels inside the man's jacket and takes out a couple of bullets. “Think these work?”

  Abel shrugs. “Who could say? The one in mine didn’t.”

  David tips the contents from the backpack, finds a few tins of food and some dirty clothes, and puts the food back, grinning. His eyes pass over the bodies and his grin drops. “What should we do about these?”

  “Sal said to leave them.”

  David meets his gaze and Abel nods, looking around. “We don’t have time to bury them properly. We’ll get them off the road.”

  “Ditch,” Sis suggests, gesturing south towards a muddy scar running along the highway’s edge.

  Abel follows her gaze and nods. “You think you can take the smaller one?”

  Sis nods.

  “You grab the other one, kid.”

  David looks around, the side of his mouth twitching. “Okay.”

  Abel scoops the tallest man underneath the armpits and walks backwards across the asphalt. The man’s feet jerk along the ground in unpredictable spasms, responding to each crack and stone. David follows and Sis speeds on ahead, over the lip of the highway and onto the soft ground.

  Furry white fungus clings to the trees overlooking the ditch, their branches wilted and grey. Shadows flicker along the pool of muddy water as a red and black insect lands on its surface. Sis rolls her body in first, standing over it as it slowly sinks.

  Abel waits, his eyes catching the charred sodden logs of an old campfire. He spits on his hands and pushes the body on top of the first. He glances towards David. “You okay, kid?”

  “I usually want someone to say something, but these guys were going to kill us if Sis hadn’t...” His voice trails off.

  “It’s alright. We don’t have to say anything.”

  David turns to Sis. “Thanks. You took them out before they hurt anyone.”

  Sis nods. “Had to.”

  “Here,” Abel says, crouching next to David and rolling the body into the ditch. He gets up and wipes his hands, gesturing towards the highway. “Come on.”

  THEY REACH THE ROAD leading to Trinity an hour or so after lunch. The trenches have been filled in with rubble or otherwise covered with thick sheets of wood. The barriers lie shattered at the roadside.

  Abel stares up at the crucifix for a long moment, then shakes his head. “Damn it,” he mutters.

  “They got five guards,” Sis says, looking through her rifle sight.

  “Let’s keep moving,” Abel says.

  They march ahead, following the highway’s gentle slope. The trees to the right stand bare, their fallen leaves carpeting the ground. Below, dead fires and torn earth remain the only signs of the king’s camp.

  “I was thinking about that compass,” says David. “Bet you would have got some good stuff to trade for it.”

  Abel sighs again. “Would. We’ll have to find the caravans out west until Sal gets things back up and running.”

  “You think she's okay?”

  “Damn it, kid.” Abel stops and turns to him. “I don't know. She was in a bad way when we left.”

  David shakes his head. “When my uncle died...” His voice trails off.

  “Sorry, kid. We’ve all had it tough.” Abel looks to see Sis standing still, staring towards Trinity. “You coming?”

  She lowers her rifle and turns to him. “Bike in there.”

  Abel raises his hands. “There's not a lot we can do about that.”

  “Want to get it back.”

  “They'll kill you.”

  Sis shakes her head. “What use have they for bike? I should just get it back.”

  “It’s not worth it.”

  Abel runs over to her and pulls her arm. “Come on,” he says, nodding towards the city. “We can look out for a new bike.”

  Sis meets his gaze for a long moment, and then nods. She walks at Abel’s side for a while and takes his hand. They walk together, not talking.

  WHEN THE SUN DIPS BELOW the horizon behind them, their shadows fading into the dark, David gestures down an embankment to the highway’s right. “We should stay down there again.”

  Abel clears his throat. “What's down there?”

  “We stayed there once. Before the Family took me back to the city.”

  “I remember. You had diarrhoea and you fell in it. Had to clean you up in the river. You were like a baby.”

  David looks at the ground. “I hoped you’d forgotten about that.”

  “Don't worry about it, kid,” Abel says, patting him on the shoulder. “Happens to the best of us.” He looks at David for long moment, and smiles. “I’m proud of you, kid. I remember how you were when we first met. Look at you now.”

  They climb down the embankment until they reach a single-storey building nestled between the trees. “It’s worse than I remember,” David says, looking inside. “I'm sure there was a door.”

  “It had fallen off. Don’t you remember? We made a pile of blankets and things.”

  David nods.

  “There’s another building this way,” Abel says, carrying on down the slope. He hops over a trickling stream and takes a left, pushing through trees and down a steeper embankment, dropping onto an expanse of flat concrete. A crack runs along the ground, exposing soil and tree roots. Ancient cars stand in rows, decaying heaps of twisted metal.

  An old office building stands ahead.

  Abel leads the way through the double doors and into the lobby. He takes a right and sees his blue crosses marking the doorframes. “Sis, you should stay in this one. There's a bed in there. Make yourself comfortable.”

  David runs on ahead. “I'm taking the last one.”

  “I wouldn’t be going in there if I were you, kid.”

  David stops, his hand reaching for the door. “What is it?”

  “If I remember rightly, there's a body. Just bones now, but not really where you want to be sleeping.”

  After a moment's hesitation, David nods and leans into the next room. “This one looks okay.”

  “Yep. I don't mind staying with you. I can stay in another room. It's up to you, kid.”

  “I don't mind.” David drops his backpack onto the desk, sits on the chair and looks around. “There’s some books.”

  “Nothing useful. Nothing to trade.”

  David shakes his head. “Where could you trade them now? Can’t see Town wanting books.”

  Abel chuckles. “They’d probably just use them for a fire.”

  “I'm serious. I don't think the king’s going to trade with us.”

  Abel tugs at his beard and sighs. “We'll work something out, kid.” He goes over to the shelf and takes down the books, flicking through their pages before shrugging. “Speaking of fire. I don't know about you, but I’m starting to get hungry.”

  “I'll go and gather some wood.”

  Abel nods. “Sure. Take care.”

  David gets up and leaves. Abel returns to the corridor and approaches the end room. Covering his nose with a forearm, he opens the door. A metal bucket filled with ash stands in the corner. He looks around, squinting, but sees no signs of the bones. He shrugs to himself.

  Taking the bucket, he carries it to the lobby and sets it on the reception desk. He gets the books and tears out the pages, dropping them into the bucket.

  When David returns with brittle pine sticks bundled under his arm Abel moves the bucket near the door, builds a fire, and lights it with a single match. As the lobby fills up with smoke and firelight, Abel takes the bucket outside, its sides heating-up.

  Piercing the lids of a couple of tins. He drops them into the flames, goes back inside and knocks at Sis’s door. “You hungry?”

  Sis opens the door, poking her head out. “What?”

  Abel sees her rifles laid out on the bed, midway through cleaning. “You hungry?”

  Sis nods and retrieves a tin from her jacket pocket. She rests it on
the table and Abel thrusts down on it with his knife, making a hole in the lid. “Just drop it in the bucket outside.”

  Abel goes back to David's room and finds him lying with his head resting on his rolled-up jacket, his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He glances up at Abel.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Was just thinking, this place is alright.”

  Abel shakes his head. “It’s too exposed here. I know the garage is a bit cramped, but at least it’s well-hidden.”

  “We’re miles from everywhere. We should move.”

  “What about the boat?”

  “I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe we could move it.”

  “We get a lot of our trade from the city,” Abel says. “We need to be near it.”

  David nods and looks around. “What about you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if you're asking something like that, and now there’s usually something up.”

  “Right.” Abel rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t want to talk about it, kid.”

  “Sal was really weird with you before we left.”

  Abel swallows, nodding slightly. “Yep.”

  “You fall out or something.?”

  “She kissed me,” he sighs, slumping against the wall and sinking his head in his hands.

  David sits up, tilting his head. “I thought you liked her?”

  “Damn it, kid. I do like her — that's the problem. You saw how she was yesterday. I don't know what she was doing.”

  “Maybe she just likes you?”

  Abel shakes his head. “It's not that simple, kid. She’s vulnerable, and she's in a bad place.”

  “You could be there for her. Maybe she is reaching out to you because she knows she can trust you. Maybe losing Trinity has made her realise what she really cares about.”

  Abel looks down at his hands. “This happened on the same day she lost her home, saw one of her friends getting shot in front of her, and chopped off her hair. Think about it, kid — she’s lost a home, her direction, her faith.”

  David doesn't say anything for a long while. Abel looks up to see Sis leaning through the doorway. “Food ready yet?”

  Abel nods. “Yep.”

  He gets to his feet when Sis leaves, his legs stiff and creaking.

  “I didn't think you believed in God,” David says.

  “What?” Abel gives him a confused look.

  “She's lost her faith. So, what? Thought you said it was just God stuff.”

  “Doesn't matter what I believe. It's important it her. Her world has fallen down around her and she reached out in some confused way. It wasn't done out of love, or because she really wants to be with me. She just did it because she's confused, because her head’s all over the place.”

  “Maybe.” David pushes out his bottom lip. “Maybe not.”

  Abel lets out a long sigh and gestures to the door. “Let’s go eat.”

  16. Remorse

  Abel sits with his back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling, his shotgun bouncing on his palm. He places the weapon at his feet and stands, rubbing the back of his neck. He paces for several minutes, tugging at his beard. A noise comes from outside the room. Frowning, he picks up the shotgun and opens the door. He stands and listens. The building groans around him, the ceiling above clicking and creaking as a gale rages outside.

  The next door along opens and Sis leans out, rifle drawn. They both sigh, relaxing. “Can't sleep either?”

  Sis shakes her head and steps out into the corridor. “Noises.”

  Abel nods. “At least we’re sheltered in here. I wouldn’t like to be outside in that.” He sits on the ground, crosses his legs and pats the floor next to him.

  Leaning her rifle against the wall, Sis sits opposite Abel. She stares into the distance, chewing on her bottom lip.

  “You okay?”

  “Don't like not sleeping. Dark thoughts.” She looks up at Abel and swallows.

  “How do you do it? How do you kill people?”

  Sis looks at the ground, picking at her fingernails. “That's why I have dark thoughts. I know I need to do what I need to do, but I see faces in my head.”

  “So, you feel bad about it?”

  Sis nods, but doesn't say anything.

  “I don't think I've ever killed anyone.”

  “Not sure?”

  Abel sighs. “You ever hear of the Family?”

  Sis nods. “Plez.”

  “Might have killed some of their people. It's been eating me up. I was able to push it aside, you know? But it's brought it all back.”

  “What you mean?”

  “I mean, with the Family it was about stopping them making plez. I checked to make sure the place was empty, but you can never be sure. I told myself it was, but I’m not a killer.”

  “I don't want to. I don't want to die if I don’t.”

  “When I went to see that king, I was going to kill him. I had my pistol pointed at his face and I pulled the trigger...I was going to kill him. I kept pulling the trigger, but nothing happened.” His voice cracks.

  “He still alive.”

  Abel sighs. “I know, but I would’ve killed him. In that moment, I pulled the trigger, knowing it would kill him. I wanted him to die. Whether he’s dead or not, that makes me a killer.”

  “But he still alive,” Sis says flatly.

  “He was unarmed.” Abel tugs at his beard.

  “If you killed him, that woman would be alive and everyone be at Trinity. Not safe on wastes. You work out what is best. Sometimes, that mean you kill.”

  “Thing is, I don't look at you and see a killer. I look at you and see a survivor. Why’s it different?”

  “I live with what I done.”

  Abel nods to himself and smiles. “Thanks, Sis. The fact we feel like that, it means we’re alright.”

  A smile reaches Sis’s eyes. “I like that.”

  17. A Man

  The sun rests high in the sky when Abel, David and Sis turn left off the highway and follow the trail to Town. Shattered logs and car parts lie on the trail’s edge as thick grasses and ferns jerk against the breeze. When the slope flattens out, Abel steps to the front and calls out in greeting. The cars that usually rest in a horseshoe-shape around Town now stand in a closed circle, sealing the settlement off from the rest of the world. “Hello?”

  Abel looks around and listens. Scraping and hammering comes from inside. He calls out again.

  “Mister?” Second Bob looks over the makeshift wall, his green eyes darting between Abel, David, and Sis. “I'll let you in.”

  They stand and wait. Abel looks around and shakes his head. “They really did a number on this place.”

  “Think they’ll be alright?”

  Abel shrugs. “They’ll have to be, kid.”

  Second Bob returns with a few more men. They shove a car aside, letting Abel through.

  “How’s everyone doing?” Abel asks.

  “We rebuilding, mister. I'll get Pa.” He looks over his shoulder and calls out. “Pa! Pa! Abel here.”

  Big Ned emerges from behind a half-built shack then runs over to Abel, embracing him in a tight hug, pushing the breath from his lungs. “You want eats?” Big Ned asks, releasing Abel.

  Abel takes in a sharp breath and waves a hand. “We've not long eaten. How's the rebuilding going?”

  “We building,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “That king got to get got. We got plans.”

  “Plans? What kind of plans?”

  Big Ned gestures to a couple of men sitting between a pair of burnt-out huts, each whittling a length of pine to a point. “We making new bows. We got spears. We can stab him up. We get him good.”

  “Good luck with that,” says David. “They've taken over Trinity.”

  “What that?” Big Ned asks, tilting his head.

  “It's a settlement a day or so west.” Abel signals the direction with his hand. “They’re good for trade.” Ab
el shakes his head. “At least, they were.”

  “Good eats too,” David says, grinning.

  Abel shoots him a glare.

  “We got to get our women back. We go get them soon.”

  Abel places a hand on Big Ned’s shoulder. “They're too well-organised. They’ve got guns. They’ve got a big fence around them. The chances—”

  Big Ned reels back, a snort erupting from his nose. “You think I can't deal with horse man?” he snaps.

  Abel shrugs and looks around. Half-melted sheets of blue polythene flap against cracked wood panels. A few men hammer away while others shift corrugated iron sheets, securing them with telephone wires. “You saw what they did last time.”

  Big Ned clenches a fist, reaching it back behind his ear, a flash of rage in his eyes. His arm flops to his side, and he shakes his head. “We need to get them,” he says in a softer voice. “We need to get them back.”

  “It's over. It's too late.” Abel shakes his head.

  “We still alive. If we alive, we fight.”

  Sis pulls on Big Ned’s sleeve.

  “What you want?”

  “Can’t call him horse man. Horse dead.” She pats one of her rifles.

  “You kill horse?”

  Sis nods. “We ate it. Was good.”

  Big Ned smiles, grabs Sis beneath the armpits, and heaves her onto his shoulders, dancing around with her as she squeals. David laughs and smiles. Sis’s screams turn to giggles and Big Ned lifts her back down to the ground. “You do good killing horse. He no horse man now. He just man.”

  Sis smiles and looks down at her feet. “Just a man,” she repeats.

  “How was the fox?” Abel asks.

  Big Ned wrinkles his brow. “Fox?”

  “Sure, I brought you a fox. Furry critter. Bit like Mister Fluffy.”

  “Critter you brought only had one head — was dead too. Not like Mister Fluffy, but some good eats.”

  “I'm glad I could help.”

  “Where we find tree tea place?”

  “The what?”

  “Tree tea, where our women’s at.”

  Abel furrows his brow for a moment then nods. “Trinity?”

  “That’s what I say.”