by James, Daz
The water pumps had worked, over time, drenching the flames until they were smoldering charcoals clinging to scorched buildings.
The children were covered in ash and soot, exhausted.
Flip was still going, keeping a check on the smoldering ruins in case of a flare up.
Marlin stepped forward, patted the boy on his back, “You’ve done enough. You need to rest.”
“This is why we need you. You’d make a great dad. I see that now more than ever.” spoke Flip.
“I can’t stay. My sister is in a penal camp in Dubbo. I can’t abandon her.”
“Oh…I didn’t know that.”
“But maybe afterwards…when I know she is safe.”
“Well we don’t care that you’re gay. If it makes any difference, I…understand the inclination.”
Marlin smirked, “You’d say anything to get me to stay.”
“It is the truth.”
“I appreciate it. I’d be proud to have you as my son. I never thought that would have been possible.”
Santanna called out, “Hey! Stop playing with ya self and come on! Those fuckers could be anywhere by now. I would have thought you’d wanted to get ya lover boy back sooner than later.”
“You should go find ya friend. We don’t mind having two dads ya know.”
“Thanks…but that isn’t going to happen. Look, when Winter wakes up, just keep an eye out for him. He is likely to cause more trouble before he is done.”
Marlin hurried toward the bus where Santanna was busy revving the motors, anxious to be away from here.
Sam felt the warmth of the sun on his face and the gentle breeze ruffling his hair. He could hear the crackle of a fire, something delicious was cooking.
He frowned, that didn’t make sense. He should be inside.
The young Enforcer opened his eyes; he was in wide open country. His stomach rumbled eager to investigate the content of that pot.
He tried to move but realized he was manacled to a tree. His wrist was secured by a handcuff; the other end was linked to a chain that was now wrapped about a tree.
He felt like an Elephant in a circus, unable to move without the burden of a heavy chain.
He scanned more of his surroundings spotting a couple of Enforcers tied similar to him at another tree.
They were both stripped of their uniform, white singlets and underwear their only clothing. They also had a handkerchief about their mouths; it had ceased the bleating that was coming from them.
Suddenly, he heard a familiar cackling. He looked over at the old jalopy noticing that Aunt Pat was emerging from the back seat.
“So you’ve recovered…had to make sure you weren’t carrying any diseases,” spoke the old woman. “My clients wouldn’t be pleased if they got a dose of food poisoning.”
He began to struggle with the hand cuffs, fear gripping his body. How the fuck did he get out here?
In the control room at Enforcer 6th Squad HQ, Cross turned from her console, looking not as fresh as she was before taking on this assignment, “Ma’am! We have a situation.”
“I take it from your tone I am not going to like it,” replied the commander, rising from her desk.
“A support vehicle has successfully picked up the surviving troops from the Narra exercise,” spoke the technician. “But two of them are missing along with the operative.”
“Fuck!”
An officer entered the control room, looking anxious, “Ma’am, we’ve just checked on the professor…he seems to have gone.”
Roth turned on him like a striking viper, “What the fuck is going on today? Two assault squads decimated and the operative lost, now that fuckin science wanker has escaped!”
“We all thought he was still out cold, and when we went to move him to confinement, he was gone.”
“Well, you had better find him or that cell will be yours by the end of today. Got it!”
The officer hurried away, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His temples were pulsing with pain and he just excreted a little urine in his pants.
Flip went to check on the bounty hunter. He was shocked to find that Winter had gone. The staircase railing had been split in half; the man had used his strength to bust out.
A motor bike could be heard in the distance. The bounty hunter had gotten away.
The professor managed to evade personnel long enough to make his way out of the command center of the base.
He was greeted by morning sunlight, a sense of freedom tantalizingly close. He just had to traverse the open ground to safety beyond the sentry point.
The base was surrounded by razor wire blocking out the world, the only way in or out being the front gate manned by troopers.
Good luck was shining down on him; a troop carrier was coming around the corner of the building. He leapt onto the bonnet of a parked car and launched himself through the opening into the rear of the vehicle.
The back of the troop carrier was empty. Max used his size to shrink into a corner so he wasn’t noticed.
He could no longer stay under this dictatorship, not after losing his lover. He had lost faith in the system. He would do all he could to bring every last one of them down, especially Commander Roth.
The troop carrier moved through the sentry point just as an alarm klaxon from the command center. Max had escaped by seconds.
The bus crept along the highway; in the direction they had just travelled a couple of days ago. Santanna drove the whole stretch not trusting her transport on a homosexual. The guys seemed to be bad luck with her vehicle.
The woman spotted an apparition ahead of them. There seemed to be a broken down car. Marlin saw it too, ordering her to slow down, someone might need their help. Santanna just thought it was waste of time.
Suddenly, a shot rang out and a tyre was blown, causing Santanna to lose control of the bus. She hit the brakes.
Marlin was thrown against the dash board, bashing his head upon it. He rose to his feet, red welt mark on his forehead.
Santanna grabbed her shot gun, threw open the door, bolting down the stairs, fuming like an angry bull. No one damaged her property and lived. She was sick of playing nice.
Santanna scanned the surrounding for her attacker spotting the two Enforcers and Sam manacled to a couple of trees.
Sam was yelling at her to get back in the bus.
Then, suddenly, she felt an almighty thump to the back of her head. She fell on the ground, Aunt Pat standing over her.
The old woman quickly ran to the bus climbing aboard to find that it was empty. She ran back to her victim, grabbing her by the arm, dragging the woman across the road toward the others.
Meanwhile, Marlin lay perfectly still under the bus. He didn’t dare breath, not even twitch a muscle.
Marlin was about to move again when a shape slithered across the ground toward him. He had forgotten there were more things on this continent to kill you than just human beings.
He hated snakes. He closed his eyes, to shut out the phobias that were creeping in.
Winter had stopped in the middle of the road; he was hunched on the ground studying the tyre marks.
The tracks were fresh; the bus had passed this way crossing back over the original marks it had made on approach to Narra.
He went back to his bike, grabbed a bottle from his pack, dousing his body with water hoping to cool it down.
His shirt clung to his pecs, his nipples erect from the sudden cold.
He grabbed some supplement pills from his pack, tossing them in his mouth. He crunched up the tablets with his teeth while pondering his chances of finding Marlin. He didn’t care about the others.
He lifted the seat of his ride, revealing a secret compartment underneath, removing a small tool kit.
He lowered the seat back down, rested his firm, round backside against it.
He opened the tool kit, removing a screw driver.
He turned his attention to the handcuff, using the tool to force it open, his m
uscles rippling beneath his wet shirt as he worked. It finally gave way, releasing his hand.
Winter tossed the broken hand cuff away, climbing back aboard his bike, heading off after the bus.
Marlin couldn’t resist the urge to open his eyes to check on the snake. It slithered into his field of vision, stopping to detect any pray in the vicinity, it’s fork tongue flicking the air.
Marlin felt droplets of perspiration collecting on his forehead; his natural instinct would be to wipe it away but knew he couldn’t move an inch. It was irritating.
The drizzle of sweat rolled down his face, falling to the ground, producing a pool of perspiration.
The snake lost interest in the environment moving away from him, heading for the shade of the old jalopy.
Marlin relaxed, finally able to breathe.
He slid out from under the bus in the opposite direct than that taken by the snake. He crept along the bus, keeping down low until he got to the stairs climbing up.
He went to a window, peering over the edge, noticing movement in the camp.
Aunt Pat was tenderizing the meat; she was using a mallet to pummel the beefy legs of the two Enforcers. They were in agony, their cries collecting in the air.
Santanna had been manacled to the same tree as Sam, they both watched on in horror, feeling physically revolted by it.
The dread they had once felt, back at the petrol station, returned in bucket loads.
There only hope rested with Marlin. Santanna wasn’t filled with confidence. He was gay after all.
Marlin scanned the bus for something to defend himself with, coming across a trunk hidden under the back seat.
When he opened it, the man found a flare gun. It was the best he could find at present.
He kept himself low, scuttling toward the doorway of the bus. He slipped down the stairs going around to the front of the vehicle. He peered out at the scene before him.
He watched as Aunt Pat left the two Enforcers going over to his friends. Shit, yes they were his friends. He hadn’t thought of that term in years.
Marlin wanted to wait until the old woman was closer to the car. He was going to use that as his target. If she were near enough to the car it could cause permanent injuries to the woman so they could escape.
He stepped into gear, aiming the flare gun at the car. He fired; the impact sent him backwards as a blinding flash concealed his vision.
Seconds later, the flare impacted with the car causing an explosion that knocked Aunt Pat to the ground.
Marlin scrambled to his feet running over to his friends. Santanna was impressed. Sam was elated to see him again.
Aunt Pat lay on the ground, semi-conscious; he noticed the keys on a chain hanging from her belt. He knelt down prizing the keys from the belt.
Marlin went to move off but suddenly the old woman grabbed his foot pulling him to the ground.
The old woman rose up, grabbing a poker from the fire place, descending upon the man.
Marlin flipped over, backing away from the horrid woman.
She ran at him, waving the red hot poker. He could feel the heat of the tip on his face as he was backed up toward a tree.
The evil woman began to cackle, “Oh…here is my little friend once again. I think I like you the most. You’re scrawny, not much meat but you’ll at least make excellent soup. I miss the early days, fat people were in abundance.”
Marlin kicked out at the woman. She flew backwards off him, landing with a thud. The man jumped to his feet preparing to fight.
Some distance away, Winter watched on through his binoculars. He smirked, finding renewed respect for the fag. He was putting on a good show.
He imagined the little fucker in bed, the images of him struggling against Winter’s strength was making the bounty hunter extremely horny.
He had images of pummeling his fists upon Marlin’s face followed by the sound of his knuckles smacking into his firm torso.
In his mind, the pleas to stop coming from the escapee was enough to get the man excited.
It was a domination technique, torture treatment in certain eyes.
Winter decided to wait. He had been on his tail for such a long time; a few more hours wouldn’t matter.
He and his band of freedom fighter were proving to be a source of entertainment. They broke his boredom.
Aunt Pat rose up from the ground, not giving up. The woman calculated her next move as she glared at her potential kill.
Marlin had never been much of a fighter in his past but when that old woman charged at him with the poker, he swung his fist out connecting with her face knocking the woman over.
She hit the dirt, banging her head on a rock. Aunt Pat lay still upon the ground, the poker rolled away from her.
Before she could regain consciousness, Marlin jumped forward grabbing the poker. He waved it before her, prepared to impale the woman if she gave him any more trouble.
Aunt Pat began to stir. She cackled, startling the man.
He began to shake. He hated the idea of inflicting pain on an old woman, someone’s grandmother. Yet he knew, she wouldn’t think so kindly about him. Aunt Pat wanted him dead.
Santanna scowled, “What the fuck are you waiting for! Get the bitch!”
“No! There has to be another way?”
“Stop living in fuckin fairy land! The old bitch wouldn’t hesitate in fuckin you up.”
Marlin looked down at Aunt Pat, regretting what he had done, “I need to know what made you into this monster? This wasn’t you.”
“You call me a monster…I see a survivor,” spoke the woman.
“But at other’s misery?”
“Yes…you would too if it meant living another day.”
It had started off because she was hungry, a wandering traveler stopped to rest at the petrol station. She couldn’t resist the temptation. It was just like hunting rabbits as a child. It was done out of necessity.
“I’d sooner end it all...if life gets so bad that people become animals…we should die out,” spoke Marlin. “We don’t deserve to survive.”
“You’re a stupid boy…you know nothing,” spoke the old woman, getting her strength back. “When your guts are screaming for food and your every thought is haunted by death…you’ll be setting a place right by my side at the god damn table ready to feast on your friends.”
Marlin advanced toward her, “Never!”
It was at that moment, the old woman struck out kicking the man between the legs. Marlin doubled up in agonizing pain, but never let go of the poker.
He crumpled to the ground, crying out to the heavens.
Aunt Pat charged toward him. Marlin instantly reacted by stabbed outward with the poker. The old woman looked on in shock as the poker stuck into her gut. She collapsed to the ground.
He scrambled up from the ground, feeling sick in his stomach. He suddenly heard his friends calling out from behind him.
Marlin turned to look for the keys he had dropped. He found them amongst the dirt and blood stains, before running over to them.
His hands were shaking, searching for the right key for the cuffs. Sam placed a hand upon his, “You couldn’t have stopped her. She was lost a long time ago.”
“It still feels like shit. I’m no better than her.”
Marlin set to work again searching for the correct key.
Winter had seen enough. He put away his binoculars. He climbed back on to his bike and started it. He needed to step back into the landscape. He’d make his presence felt when the time was right.
He turned the bike around returning to Narra. There were enough vacant houses in the town to hide out.
Rusty spotted a flare race across the distance horizon; he had read in a book in school that it meant someone was in trouble, generally those at sea. He thought that Flip should know about this. He would decide what to do.
Flip soon ordered for the Ute to be brought around. They had to check it out in case their father was in trouble. Titch jumped i
n the back with her bag of medicinal concoctions. The rescue team was soon away.
Marlin sat on the ground re-gaining his strength after the confrontation with Aunt Pat.
Santanna was curiously examining the site, holding the flare gun in her hand.
Sam was in the process of releasing the two forgotten members of the Enforcer squad.
Santanna found Marlin’s I-Pad amongst the old woman’s possessions. She picked it up, checking the secrets it contained.
She shook her head while reading the entries. Marlin was so fixated on the young Enforcer. She was still weary of Sam. Those Enforcer boys were indoctrinated very deeply in the philosophies of the new government that would be hard to shake off.
Santanna looked over at him, suspiciously, wondering what his motives might be.
Sam finally found the key to release Manny from his handcuff, “Are you ok?”
“Yeah…that bitch was feral.”
“So why did you attack the town?”
“It was orders.”
Wanda glanced across at him, “Manny, you should tell him the reason why.”
“It’d be our end as Enforcers!”
“Our debt to him will be paid.”
Sam went over to Wanda, working to free her, “What are you talking about?”
“We were sent in to take out that whole town. Nothing was going to be left.”
“Why?”
“Now that is classified even to us.”
Sam frowned, “What do you mean! What the fuck is going on?”
“We had special orders to find you and bring you back for questioning,” spoke the woman. “You were going to be branded a deserter…and you know what happens to them.”
The woman was finally free; she stood up massaging her wrists and then looked down at her bruised and battered legs. They flared with shooting pain.
