The Rat Collector: A Dystopian Thriller (Age of End Book 1)

by Chris Yee

  So as Rupert dismounted his horse and dug his boots into the snow, Fred displayed a burning confidence. Today was the season’s first hunt day. They usually went to the woods to hunt, but this time, they tried the snow plains. He looked around and observed his surroundings. To his right, the endless snow-covered plains. To his left, the large mountain range. He had never crossed over to this side of the mountains before. The hunting trip was a good excuse to explore these new grounds.

  “Okay,” he said, as he mounted his horse. “I’m all stretched out. Let’s go.” They galloped along until the mountains were out of sight. Now there was only flat snow all around. He pulled on the reins and dismounted again. “This looks like a good place to set up camp.” He reached for his bag and began to unpack.

  As he worked on the camp, Fred watched from a lonely tree stump nearby. Rupert pitched the tent and built a fire using logs they had brought. The cold would worsen come nightfall, and snow was on its way. If they wanted to get through the night, fire and shelter were necessary. Anything else was a luxury. When the modest camp was complete, Rupert took Fred’s spot on the stump, and Fred returned to his shoulder. It was time to hunt. They both peered off into the horizon, waiting for movement. Fred was ready to pounce.

  Before sundown, Fred had gathered twenty kills. Satisfied with her performance, Rupert called it a day. They huddled in their small tent as the sun lowered, and the wind and snow picked up.

  “You did well today, girl.” The wind howled outside as Rupert spoke. “We’ll hunt a little in the morning and head back by noon. We should be back to Snow Peak by sundown.” Fred responded with a blank stare. “You know, you’re good company, but sometimes I wonder if you understand a single word coming out of my mouth.”

  They slept undisturbed, Rupert on the ground, Fred perched in the corner. Their tent blocked the harsh weather outside.

  *****

  By morning, the snow stopped, and the wind lessened. The sky was clear and blue. Rupert and Fred awoke at sunrise, spending the entire morning hunting. Satisfied again with Fred’s performance, he decided to call it a day. He marched back to the tent, as Fred relaxed on his shoulder, admiring the scenery. In the distance, she saw a small cluster of birds. She sprung from Rupert’s shoulder towards the flock to investigate. And maybe to kill.

  “Fred!” Rupert yelled, “What are you doing? Come back here!”

  She ignored him. Her wings spread out wide as she glided with confidence. Her eyes locked onto a single bird. The wind roared past her head as she gained speed. Her talons opened, ready to snatch her prey, when suddenly, a mysterious figure emerged from the horizon. A man.

  Her wings went stiff. Her heart raced as she stared at the approaching man. Something about him struck fear into her very soul. Her head spun in circles as she tumbled into the snow.

  She quickly recovered and jumped back into flight, headed in the opposite direction. She fled towards the protective hands of Rupert. Rupert caught her and immediately knew something was wrong.

  “What is it, girl? What did you see?”

  He looked up and caught sight of a man wearing a black coat and wool hat, marching through the snow. He dashed back to camp, collapsed the tent, placed Fred on the ground, and laid on his stomach beside her. He stayed low and watched the man, who was now standing among a flock of birds. A loud whistle cut through the silence, and the birds fluttered away.

  The man continued walking in the direction of Snow Peak. Rupert hopped to his feet and packed the rest of their luggage, making sure to stay low. When he finished, he glanced back. The man was gone. There were fresh footprints leading towards the mountain range. Rupert mounted his horse, and Fred returned to his shoulder.

  They galloped along until the mountains were in sight. Rupert could see the mysterious man at the base of the trail. Rupert approached the mountain, moving slowly to keep his distance. As he got closer, a hollow crack echoed from above. His eyes darted up. A large section of ice tumbled off the mountainside and crashed to the ground.

  They rode up the path, both curious and cautious of what happened. Who was this man and why was he here? When they reached the top, they did not find the man they expected. Instead, they found someone else, lying helplessly in the snow. Red footprints climbed up and over the edge of the cliff, leading straight to his bloodied feet. His eyes, wide open, were rolled back in their sockets.

  Rupert dismounted and approached the body with caution. Fred flew over and landed on the side of the stranger’s head, looking down at his face. She twisted her neck and curiously pecked his cheek, breaking the skin. A thick drop of blood trickled from the small cut. She pecked him again, this time on the nose.

  “Fred, stop that!” Rupert said. “Get back over here.”

  Fred obeyed and returned to his shoulder. He knelt down beside the body and placed a finger on his pulse. The skin was rough and cold. He was nearing death, but his heart still beat. He rolled the body onto his back and lifted him up in his arms, hoisting him onto the horse.

  “Come on, girl. We’re going back to Snow Peak. This fellow isn’t dying on my watch.”

  FIVE

  ELLA STOOD AT the center of the room. She stared out the window, watching the snow float gently to the ground. She turned her head to see where she was. It was the Snow Peak library. A single, vacant room with shelves lining the walls. Why was she here? She inspected the shelves, but they were all empty. There was only one single book sitting on the center shelf, in the middle of the room.

  She grabbed the thick, brick-like book and read the title on the dusty cover; The Wonderful World of Animals: Volume 5 — Reptiles. She flipped to a random page. There was a large picture of what appeared to be a turtle. Its skin was dry and flaky. Dirt smudged its enormous shell. There was a short caption below:

  Giant Tortoise

  There are numerous species and subspecies of the giant tortoise, all spread throughout various parts of the world, but they are typically found in a tropical island setting. Their diet consists of various plants, including grass, flowers, and other greens. As their name suggests, these specimens are very large, weighing as much as 600 pounds and growing up to 4 feet long. Once very prominent around the world, their population has significantly declined. In the days of pirates, many considered tortoise meat a delicacy. Their slow movement made them incredibly easy targets. Tortoise meat is highly resistant to spoiling and has a unique taste. Docked sailors would often capture these creatures in large quantities before setting out on long voyages. Nowadays, giant tortoise sightings are very rare. The giant tortoise can live for over two hundred years.

  She stopped reading. The giant tortoise can live for over two hundred years? She clapped the pages shut and placed the book back on the shelf before turning around to exit through the front door.

  The doorway led to a sandy beach. That’s when Ella remembered, Snow Peak was not on top of a snowy mountain range. It was on a tropical island. She shaded her eyes from the sun to get a better view of the shore. The beach was empty, and the waves rolled smoothly over the sand, crashing down just short of her feet. The tide quickly rose, and she soon found herself waist-deep in ocean water. She gently fell back, letting the water hold her up. A strong current swept her floating body away. She shut her eyes and let the cool breeze gently blow across her face.

  When she opened her eyes, she was lying in bed. There was a light breeze coming from the window across the room. The air was stinging with frost. She tensed up and bundled her sheets tightly over her shoulders. She glanced out through the window, at the full moon. Outside, there was the silhouette of a slender man. His features were hidden by the darkness of night, as he moved towards the cabin across from hers. “Martha and Patrick,” she whispered to herself. The unknown figure entered the cabin. Her eyes stayed fixed on the front door until the figure exited, carrying a body.

  She sprung out of bed, but when her bare feet touched the hot sand, she remembered she was not in her bedroom. She was in the des
ert, and her bed was not a bed at all, but a giant tortoise. The large desert creature inched forward one foot at a time, leaving a trail of crater-sized footprints. She left the tortoise behind and wandered into the vast fields of sand. She reached the base of a large sand dune and looked up at the towering peak. Bits of sand crumbled from the top as the ground began to shift. The movement grew more violent, knocking Ella off her feet. She fell onto her back and lay still, waiting for the shaking to stop. But it persisted. It grew faster, louder, more intense. It was more than she could handle. Her insides felt like bubbles about to burst. She opened her mouth, ready to scream.

  But then she was back in bed. The window across the room was still open, but the full moon was no longer there. It was morning. Ella’s mother, Tamara, sat nearby. She shook Ella’s shoulder, trying to wake her up. Ella lightly pushed her hand away. “Okay, okay. I’m awake.”

  Tamara got to her feet. “Get up and get ready Ella. You have work to do. That wood’s not going to chop itself, dear.”

  “Ugh, you don’t know that,” Ella replied. She peered out the window at Martha and Patrick’s cabin. There were no footprints in the snow. No sign of anyone coming or going. “What a crazy dream,” she said as she got out of bed.

  The giant tortoise can live for over two hundred years.

  SIX

  VINCE OPENED HIS eyes. His lids scratched against the dry surface of his eyeballs. He blinked rapidly to build moisture, and then squinted as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight peeking through the edge of the window curtains. He was lying in a modest bed in the corner of a cozy room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all made of aged wood panels. The piney aroma filled his nostrils as he took a long deep breath. There was a kitchen in the corner, equipped with a gas stove and a small sink. A blackened fireplace was tucked away in the other corner.

  He tried to get up, but a strong pain rang through his body. Arms, shoulders, back, chest, stomach, legs. They all ached. An intense pounding invaded his head with each coming heartbeat. He lay back and tried to gather his thoughts. Where was he? Who had brought him here? Where was Saul?

  He rested for a moment and tried to sit up again. He swiveled around and let his legs dangle off the side of the bed. The pain rang through his body again, but this time he ignored it. He carefully slid off the bed and onto his feet. A burning rage devoured his soles, crawling up his legs and clawing at his knees. It was a burn too hot to ignore. He collapsed to the ground, screaming in agony. He lay still while the pain subsided. Once it was gone, he sat upright and folded one leg over the other to inspect his feet. They were heavily bandaged.

  He grabbed his ankle and bent it further to get a better look. The bottom of the bandage was a light shade of red. As he removed it, he slowly revealed the gory mess underneath. Bare bone showed in scattered areas, and large chunks of flesh hung from what could barely be called a foot anymore. Most of the bleeding had stopped, but there were still wet spots here and there. He carefully covered the wound back up and patted it lightly.

  Examining the room again, he noticed a small metal wheelchair in the corner across from the fireplace. His coat and bag were draped over the back. He crawled on his hands and knees, making his way across the room, and climbed into the chair.

  The front door creaked open, and a boy’s head poked in. The boy looked no more than seven years old, maybe younger. He slid through the crack and pushed it closed behind him. He stared at Vince. Vince stared back. Neither said a word.

  Finally, Vince cleared his throat and quietly introduced himself. “Hello. My name is Vince. What’s your name?”

  The boy said nothing.

  Vince wondered if perhaps the boy did not understand him. Maybe he spoke another language. “Do you understand me?”

  Still no answer. The boy just stared blankly at him. Vince had many questions, but clearly this boy was not the one to ask.

  “Is there someone in charge? Someone I can speak with?”

  The boy smiled and nodded. He opened the door and signaled for Vince to follow. Vince wheeled his chair through the doorway and closed it behind him.

  The cold slapped his skin. He reached behind to grab his coat. His aching muscles intensified as he twisted his body. His coat fumbled about in his trembling hands. He draped it over his shoulders and huddled his arms close to his body.

  The village was populated with small wooden cabins. A heavy coat of snow covered the roof of each one. The roads were nearly deserted. A lone old man wandered through the snow, spouting nonsense to a non-existent audience. No one else was outside, but faint candlelight glowed from the inside of windows, and dark smoke rose from chimneys in thick puffs. They must all be inside. A forest of evergreens bordered the village. The boy stood in the middle of the road, waving his arms over his head to get Vince’s attention. When Vince finally looked, the boy signaled for him to follow, entering the cabin across the road.

  A beautiful horse stood out in front, tied to a wooden post. Tall and strong with a white hide; its hooves the size of coconuts. Its gorgeous mane fluttered in the light breeze. He took a moment to admire the gentle beast, and then rolled his chair into the road. The thick snow made it difficult. His aching arms burned as he turned the wheels, and his muscles tingled with an unpleasant numbness.

  When he reached the other side, he pushed through the door to enter the cabin. The boy was sitting in a chair behind a desk far bigger than he was, swinging his short legs back and forth above the ground. The room was almost identical to the other one. The curtains along the windows. The wooden panels. Even the same piney aroma. He rolled along the hollow sounding floor, and stopped in front of the desk, across from the boy. The wooden chair creaked as the boy kicked his legs and smiled at Vince. Vince smiled back, confused.

  “What are we waiting for?” Vince asked.

  “Stay here,” the boy said finally. He hopped off the chair and left through the back door. When he returned, a large burly man followed closely behind. His massive beard covered his lower face and reached down to his belly. He was well-built with broad shoulders and an imposing posture. The falcon perched on his shoulder glared intensely at Vince.

  He walked to the desk and placed a tray in front of Vince. On it was a warm bowl of chili and a cool mug of water. “Eat up. You must be starving,” he said with a full jovial voice. “Welcome to Snow Peak. My name is Rupert.”

  Snow Peak. The name was fitting. Vince had many questions, but the smell of warm food was far too enticing. He took a small sip of water and then shoveled spoonfuls of chili into his mouth. When the bowl was empty, he downed the rest of the water and politely wiped his mouth. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he said, “My name is Vince.”

  “Nice to meet you, Vince. You’ve already met Carl.” He pointed to the boy, who smiled back and waved. “He’s a little shy, but his mind’s as sharp as a needle. And this here is Fred.” He held out his arm and the falcon fluttered over, her eyes still piercing through Vince. “She’s one fierce bird.”

  “She?” Vince said with surprise.

  “Yes, Fred is a she.” He lowered his voice. “Although, she doesn’t know she has a gentleman’s name. She is one magnificent bird.”

  “That’s quite a horse you have out there,”

  “Yes, it is. Always reliable. Unfortunately, it’s the only horse we have.

  “Where are we exactly?”

  “Like I said, we’re in Snow Peak,” Rupert said as if the answer was obvious.

  “Are there any other towns nearby? I’m not familiar with Snow Peak.”

  “Sorry friend. Can’t help you with that one. We don’t have much contact with others. Everything we need is right here.”

  “You don’t have contact with others?”

  “Nope. Just you and Fred. Occasionally, traders come through, but they never stay too long.”

  “You haven’t seen a man pass through recently, have you? Skinny, black hat?

  Rupert paused, lost in deep thought. “There wa
s that one fellow out in the snow plains. I saw him right around the same time I found you. I didn’t get a good look at him, but I do recall a black hat. But he never came through town. He turned towards the forest. I considered following him, but you were in bad shape. You needed to be treated right away. It’s a miracle you’re even alive right now.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “We found you two days ago. We were all pretty worried. I’ve never seen that much blood before.” He glanced at Vince’s feet. “You look okay now, though.”

  “Do you know where that forest leads? Where is he headed?”

  “I go into the woods to hunt, but I stay fairly close by. I don’t know what else is out there, other than trees.”

  “Saul,” Vince whispered to himself. “What are you up to?”

  “What was that?” Rupert leaned forward, turning his ears.

  Vince almost repeated Saul’s name but decided against it. They did not need to know about Saul. Not yet. “Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

  “I hope—”

  An older lady burst through the door, interrupting his thought. Panic lingered in her eyes. She leaned against the wall, out of breath. “Rupe…Rupe…” She tried to speak, but her panting was too rapid. She took a short moment until finally the words spilled from her mouth. “Rupert! Another person is missing!”

  Frustration swept across Rupert’s face. “Damn it!” He yelled, startling Vince. Just seconds earlier, the man was both kind and welcoming. Even Fred was a little startled by his outburst. He took a moment to calm himself and turned to the lady. “Who’s missing?” he asked in an aggressively calm tone.

  She began to tear up. “Patrick,” she answered.