by Dhar, Mainak
Rashid’s horse peeled off from the others and he rode towards The Khan, coming to a stop mere feet away, and dismounted in one expert, fluid motion.
‘My Khan, our two scouts have been sighted. They should be here in ten minutes.’
‘Good, I am keen to hear what they have seen in this so-called Wonderland.’
Rashid was about to get on his horse when The Khan stopped him.
‘There is something that troubles you, Rashid. I have known you too long for you to pretend otherwise. What is it?’
Rashid hesitated, knowing that he was signing the death sentence for the two scouts, but that was a preferable outcome than bringing The Khan’s wrath down on himself.
‘My Khan, the scouts have brought back a human captive. It seems to be one of our suppliers, one of the bandits we have dealt with in the past.’
A flash of anger passed through The Khan’s mind, but then it was gone. The men would be dealt with, but first he had to learn what they had seen. He dismissed Rashid and came down to join his men, riding with them. After a few minutes, the two scouts came in, a gagged and bound man tied and draped across the back of one of their horses. The Khan called them over and asked for them to be given water before they talked to him.
The two men were averting his gaze, knowing they had erred, and even before they got to their mission, one of them pointed to the man strung up on the horse.
‘My Khan, we are hungry and we came across this one. He and his fellow bandits refuse to supply us any more, they are so afraid of that Alice and her armies. They are of no use to us as suppliers, so they may as well become our supplies.’
The Khan’s eyes bored into the man and he looked away, and both men were silent. The Khan walked up to the captive and inspected him.
‘He is healthy, and seems stout. Someone take him away and prepare him. We can have a feast tonight.’
The two scouts were looking at each other, grinning behind their masks, relieved that their infraction had not angered the Khan. That was when the Khan walked up behind one of them, grabbed him from behind and broke his neck. As his lifeless body crumpled to the ground, the other man fell to his knees, begging for mercy.
‘I only need one of you to report what you saw. As for this fool—he broke our rules and came back bragging about it. For years we have cultivated these bandits to work for us. Yes, they fear this Alice, but now they will never work for us if they know we have turned on them.’
He grabbed the man by his shoulders and raised him to a standing position.
‘You will live today. Now tell me what you have learned about this Alice and what you have seen of their defenses.’
When the man had finished, The Khan retreated to his tent to think through his course of action. He had learned much about the armament and numbers of Wonderland, but importantly, he had learned much about Alice. He knew that the strength of any army, and indeed the roots of its weakness, lay in its leadership, much more than the number of foot soldiers or weapons it could bring to bear. His men had interrogated a bandit who had been a captive in Wonderland and had seen Alice up close, and what he learned about her intrigued him. She was a warrior, but her strength and success lay more than in just her prowess on the battlefield. She had somehow been able to create a fully functioning society that integrated humans and Biters. Her unique hybrid condition was part of it, but part of it was her surrounding herself with men and women, and indeed a certain Biter with strange ears, who seemed to be her core group, the group that kept Wonderland going.
His men in contrast were fighters and followers, the two qualities that had kept them alive and by his side so long, but they were hardly the sort to discuss strategy with. The Khan allowed himself a smile as he recalled the days before The Rising, when he and his colleagues would talk dismissively of these tribal guerrillas allied to Al Qaeda or the Pakistani Taliban and their crude fighting tactics. Pray and spray. That was what they had called it, and at the time, The Khan had found it funny, basking in the security and arrogance that came with being part of the world’s mightiest war machine.
But then that very machine had abandoned him, leaving him to die in the radioactive wasteland that Pakistan had become or fall prey to the undead monsters that now roamed the cities. The prison The Khan ran with his CIA colleagues was secret, and what had happened in it—torture of suspects without trial, illegal renditions, experiments in mind control—was too damaging to ever see the light of day. So in the days of The Rising, when all looked lost, the undead multiplying with every bite and the threat of nuclear war looming large, he had hoped he would be evacuated like the other bases in and around the region. That order never came. Someone had preferred that the secrets of his prison would die with him.
Unfortunately for them, he had refused to die and made his way to the tribal areas, fighting and killing to survive each day and ultimately finding a home among the very men he had tortured and ridiculed. He knew the language, he knew the customs and he knew that to survive, an outsider like him had only one option—take charge. So he killed anyone in his path, and carved a swathe of death and destruction along the way.
For weeks, for months, he hoped things would go back to normal. That he would find a way home. He saw the mushroom clouds, he saw the living turn into the undead, he saw men turn on each other when the food ran out; and soon after his own hope for any rescue ran out. He had always been a man who instilled fear in others, but now it was terror he wrought where he went. He had been betrayed, his world, his life taken away from him. Now he would create a new world for himself, the only one possible in the terrible new world he inhabited—one he would rule over and carve with a sword. His name was unknown to all those who served him. They knew him only as The Khan, and like the great Mongol rulers of yore who bore that title, he and his horseback horde would spread out and conquer what lay in their path.
He finished sketching out his plans in his mind. This girl Alice had done well for herself, but she had made a big mistake by challenging him. He ruled over his people through fear and the absolute confidence they had in his strength. For her to challenge him openly was to put that in doubt. Also, he now knew the riches that lay in Wonderland—the people to serve as slaves, and yes, as food, the fresh fruit and vegetables to be had if his men still had the taste for such things, and from what the bandits had told his men, doctors who might yet be able to do something to prolong the time The Khan had left.
The Khan smiled to himself. Yes, his time was limited. He was honest enough with himself to know that, and now that he had begun to cough up blood, the end would come in months or even weeks. He had seen many of his initial horde waste and die from the exposure to radiation during The Rising. Perhaps Rashid or one of the others would come to know and hasten his end. The Khan was strong, but he knew that if his horde sensed weakness and turned on him, it would be a matter of time before his own throat was cut on some moonless night. No, he would die one day, as all men would, but he would not go quietly.
He would bring his horsemen out of their valley and into the plains that lay to the East. It would take them more than a day of hard riding and then they would lay waste to Wonderland.
***
‘Are you coming for the party tonight?’
Salil looked at Christopher and smiled. Yes, of course he would be there. The way the boy doted on him had made him uncomfortable at first, but then as he got to know the kid better, he had realized he enjoyed sitting and talking to him. Chris was bright, and always full of questions about everything under the sun. He was about to turn twelve, but was big for his age, and so always did more than his share of work on the farm. When the first kids had arrived, Salil had been one of those to worry about having to babysit their new wards, but now he had no such misgivings. They were all more than pulling their weight.
‘What do you want for your birthday?’
The boy’s eyes lit up.
‘You know what I’d really like? I want a sniper rifle.’
>
Salil chuckled to himself. That was not the first time Chris had made the request, and Salil had checked with Alice. With their small stocks of sniper rifles, it was unlikely they would hand one out to a kid, especially since there was no imminent fighting to be done which required such a mobilization.
‘I’ll see what I can do. Now go on back to the farm. I’ll finish my patrol and get there soon.’
He had been on patrol outside the farm for most of the day and he checked back with Brittany to see if she had picked up anything on her side of the farm.
‘Nothing. Those horsemen wouldn’t have come by just for a joyride. Something’s up.’
‘I know, but now all we can do is wait and watch.’
A few hundred meters away, Alice was holding a class for kids—both those who lived in Wonderland and the new arrivals. There were about twenty kids there, all under the age of fifteen, and Alice was teaching them unarmed combat skills. She still remembered her own lessons from back in the settlement, when Jones and others had trained her, and while the war with Zeus was over, she wanted to make sure that her people were never found wanting if they were called upon to fight again. The horsemen worried her. It was one thing to fight against enemies like Zeus or the Red Guards, whose agenda and mission was known. It was quite another to fight against enemies whose identity, let alone their agenda, was a mystery.
Two girls were sparring, and one of them caught Alice’s eye as she deftly threw her opponent with minimal effort. She had come in with the last flight from the Homeland, and was reportedly the daughter of a famous resistance fighter who had fallen in battle. Her mother was a scientist who was working on the farm equipment, and she had accompanied her over.
‘What’s your name and how old are you?’
The girl, sweat glistening on her olive skin, straightened up to look at Alice.
‘I’m Teresa.’
‘You did well. Now, let’s get some firearms practice before we call it a day.’
Teresa grinned at the praise and joined the other kids as they sat in a circle and Alice trained them on the finer points of shooting a handgun while on the run. When Alice had been Teresa’s age, she would have been carrying a sidearm at all times, but now weapons were stored in the armory and a small batch had been brought out for training.
‘When do we get to fire for real? We just practice here.’
Alice saw the pout on Teresa’s face and suppressed a smile. When she had been younger she would pester Jones and her Dad to allow her to go out on combat patrols, and had even stolen out of the settlement on more than one occasion, trying to get some action. ‘Teresa, we train to fight so we can if we don’t have a choice, but I wouldn’t ever wish for a battle.’
As she got up to leave, she wondered if that had been her speaking or her Dad. Alice had always been keen to get into battle, but now, having seen what it did to people and learned what it felt like to lose those you cared most about, she had learned for herself what her Dad had tried to teach her when she had been growing up.
She found Aalok near the farm, walking alongside Bunny Ears and Norbert. When they saw Alice, Aalok called her over.
‘I’ve been spending some time with Bunny Ears, and something struck me. That’s why I got Norbert along for a second opinion.’
‘What’s up?’ Alice could see the excitement in Aalok’s eyes as he talked.
‘I don’t know if it’s all Biters or just him, but he reacts to things. We used to think Biters had no memories, but when we were on patrol in the Ruins looking for spare parts for the factory, we found something and Bunny Ears just sat there, looking at it for the longest time. I swear I could see some hint of emotion there.’
‘What did you see?’
Aalok held out an old framed certificate. It had a symbol Alice didn’t recognize and the certificate itself was faded and torn, but the words ‘Make A Wish’ were recognizable. She looked at Bunny Ears and saw him standing there, with a low growl that she had come to recognize meant he was excited about something. Norbert smiled. ‘We were focused on a chemical solution, and a cure is perhaps needed, but clearly this means something from Bunny Ears’ past and he is reacting to it. If Biters retain some memories, we could trigger them with the right stimulus, and perhaps that may hasten the recovery process.’
Alice walked up to Bunny Ears and touched his arm gently.
‘I don’t know who he was or what his name was. All I know is who he is—my Bunny Ears, a dear friend and someone I trust with my life more than I would any human. That’s what matters.’
As she walked away, she turned and smiled.
‘Bunny Ears, if they pester you too much, feel free to take a bite.’
Bunny Ears growled and Aalok took a step back.
‘Norbert, she’s kidding, right?’
As they began to walk away, Bunny Ears growled again and Aalok took another discreet step aside.
***
‘Haroula Aunty, can I at least see the cake?’
Haroula smiled as Christopher came by, for the third time that day. It was his birthday after all, and each time Haroula had indulged him with a drink of cold milk or fresh fruit. The boy worked hard and had earned the treats, but she was not going to spoil the surprise by showing him the cake now.
‘Paula, your boy wants to see his cake again.’
Christopher’s mother, an agricultural scientist who had come on the first flight, smiled.
‘Kiddo, go on and work. Earn that cake.’
Chris ran out and got back to work, as Paula watched him wistfully. How he had grown. Her husband had been in the US Army, stationed at Fort Bragg. When The Rising had happened, he had used all his training to keep her alive, and had recognized that the New World Order promised by Zeus was nothing but a tyranny that preyed on the weak. He joined the resistance and became one of its celebrated fighters. They spent the early years on the run, fighting to survive each day, and in that chaos, Chris had been born. His father had disappeared two years ago behind enemy lines, holding off a full company of Zeus troops to help his comrades escape. Paula still held out hope that he was out there—in some camp that was waiting to be liberated. But for now, all she had was Chris, and she was so proud of how her son had grown up.
She saw Salil, Brittany and the others at the perimeter of the farm. She had been an Army wife and knew what she was seeing. They were getting ready for something, but what?
***
The Khan rode ahead of his men. He had lived in the valley so long that he had almost forgotten how wonderful it felt to be out in the plains, to see the land stretching to the horizon ahead of you, to see trees around you. He had brought along a dozen of his best men, and also Rashid, who now rode up beside him.
‘My Khan, we have been riding for eight hours straight. Should we stop for the men and horses to rest?’
The Khan looked at Rashid. How much did he know about The Khan’s deteriorating health? Was this a suggestion born out of concern for the men or a subtle challenge to The Khan’s orders that they take a break only when they reached the deserts of what had been Rajasthan, which would mark the rough midpoint of their journey, and then on to Wonderland? They had stopped briefly two hours ago, when they had come across the ruins of an old army base. It had already been cleaned out of all its weapons and food a long time ago, but The Khan did find something he kept—an old regimental sword that must have been kept for ceremonial purposes. He had hung it by his belt and they had continued their journey.
The Khan had estimated it would take them almost a day of hard riding in total and he did want his men rested before they engaged in any sort of combat. Still, he would not deviate from his announced plan on Rashid’s suggestion. He did not want Rashid to gain favor in front of the men. The Khan knew that when he passed, Rashid was the natural leader, but he would make the transition on his terms, and if he could get access to modern medicine and doctors of the sort Wonderland was reputed to have, then perhaps there was hope he could
extend his reign.
‘We ride on and rest when I say so.’
They had gone about twenty minutes more when Rashid was back at his side.
‘Alice’s people are numerous and well armed. We only brought a dozen men.’
If The Khan had been willing to give Rashid the benefit of the doubt earlier, now there was no question in his mind that by repeatedly questioning him and perhaps sowing doubt in the men’s minds, Rashid was building himself up to perhaps challenge him. The Khan could have explained his plan, could have told Rashid that even if they brought every man and horse, they would still be vastly outnumbered and outgunned, told him about how the balance of terror favored those who knew how to use asymmetrical tactics. He could have explained how their continued survival had depended not on their numbers and firepower alone, but on the terror they were able to create that was out of proportion to their actual numbers. But all of those would likely be wasted on Rashid, and anyway, The Khan didn’t need to explain himself to anyone. His eyes bored into Rashid’s till Rashid yielded and fell back.
With that, The Khan spurred his horse on and went on ahead of the group. He spotted some movement to his right and a figure shuffled into view. The Biter was wearing what at one time seemed to have been a uniform—not surprising given the number of military bases in the area—and must have survived the missile and nuclear strikes that had ravaged the area during The Rising. The Biter looked at the approaching riders and growled. The Khan stopped and looked at the Biter now walking towards them, snapping its jaws.
Rashid was once again alongside The Khan and had unslung his rifle from his back. The Khan stayed his hand.
