by James, Daz
She sat down on the bed to remove her boots then her uniform, sliding out of the jumpsuit revealing white cotton underwear.
She made sure to check her watch with that of timer on the explosive.
Cross looked over at the bog hole, sizing up her frame; she was just skinny enough to wriggle through.
Thank god for the Enforcer’s supplement of pills. It was either blown to bits or scramble through shit to escape. Cross had made her choice.
The woman raced over to the toilet, pulling off
the cover, her guts beginning to convulse again. She just closed her eyes and thought of the little face that needed her.
Night was closing in fast; a small fire had been constructed in the main street. Max sat on a small rock, staring into the flames, his mind tripping over every stupid mistake.
It was Max who had found the changes to the immune system in the autopsy results of escapees. It was those outcomes that lead to experimentation and mass executions.
He looked down at his hands, seeing the blood caked into the lines and wrinkles. His quest for knowledge had led to this moment. He should have left well enough alone.
Sam’s impressive figure came to stand over him; he needed to know more about his old regime.
He had followed without question, and every day away from them, the fog was beginning to lift from his mind. He saw everything with clarity.
“I heard what you said. I’m Samuel Parry of the 6th squad.”
Max looked up at him, “You’re one of Commander Roth’s boys.”
“Yes,” spoke Sam, sitting down beside the little man. “I need the truth.”
“What do you want to know?”
“How did those kids get so…abnormal?”
“They’re not the only ones affected. People are starting to live off the land…like your brother?”
Sam bowed his head, feeling guilty, “You know about me?”
“Your name gave you away.”
“I have no brother,” spoke Sam, feeling relieved to admit that finally after so long being entrenched into that role. “I was trained very well to be deceiving. It gets results.”
“So what were your orders?”
“I was required to get close enough to lead Marlin into an ambush.”
“I take it that your mission has gone out the window.”
“I…have feelings for him.”
Max smirked, chuckling, “Oh shit! You’ve fallen for the target. I bet that bitch didn’t even warn you about that.”
“It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know about me.”
“Are you sure about that? She’d climax at such a twisted outcome.”
Sam frowned, suddenly feeling more like a pawn, something to be used by Commander Roth, “So what was so wrong with living off the land?”
“It’s the soil in some parts of the country. The food grown in it absorbs nutrients that infuse the body with enhanced capabilities, you could call them super foods,” spoke Max. “Those who consume that food begin operating at different levels. Their mind and bodies change.”
Sam frowned with concern, “So why execute them?”
“Fear…they don’t want anyone rising up to take on the Enforcers.”
“So what do you want?”
Max smirked, “I want them destroyed…every last officer. That bitch murdered Frazer. She never hurt anyone. She was gentle…had a wicked sense of humor. I ached for the time I spent with her.”
Sam felt sorry for the man, placing a hand upon his shoulder, he was just another pawn like he was. They were carrying out orders for the command.
Sam knew he would have to tell his lover of the deception, that conversation was going to be harder than any other in his life. Did he have the guts to do it? It would be better coming from him than the dwarf.
On the outside of the command complex, a figure wriggled free from the underside of the building. The woman stood up, covered in excrement and mug, no longer recognizable by sight, it was a perfect concealment.
She wiped muck from her watch, only minutes remain before a sizeable hole would be blown through this wall.
Under the cover of darkness, Cross ran toward the shower block where a fresh set of clothes waited for her. She would be able to hide out there while destruction happened around her.
Commander Roth was walking with her superior toward the detention wing as he bellowed his discomfort of having to travel up from Supreme Command to deal with a localized problem.
He was questioning the woman’s leadership which pissed her off. Yet Roth was forced to listen, gritting her teeth.
Roth stopped, trying to calm herself; she wanted to beat the man over the head. She was far more worthy of that exalted position, than his buffoon. Men ruined everything before; they couldn’t be allowed to do that again.
The Superior Commander marched ahead, arrogantly, gripping the door handle firmly before opening it just as the device detonated.
Commander Roth regained consciousness to the sounds of chaos. She opened her good eye; someone was lying on top of her. She threw the body off, rising to her feet.
She checked her eye patch; it had come loose revealing an eyeless pit.
Roth kept her own secrets.
She looked down and immediately grimaced at the horrific burns on her superior’s body. The man had saved her from the blast.
Roth began to gasp, as thick acrid smoke began to engulf her. There was debris scattered about the corridor as flames ate away at the building.
The woman stumbled away, a little battered, blocking her ears to the klaxon of alarms. She made her way through hysterical personnel ignoring their plight.
Roth had greatly underestimated Cross. She was a woman of quality not often found in this age.
Cross was now clean but the horrid stench seemed to be seared into her nostrils.
She had put on civilian clothing; a T-shirt and jeans. She flung a survival backpack over one shoulder, leaving the safety of the shower block.
The woman raced to a perimeter fence, following it stealthily toward the main gate. She dropped to the ground as troopers ran by. Everyone was heading toward the command building in a bid to save it.
Cross rose from the ground, sprinting the last few meters toward the gates. She ducked inside the sentry post, operating the gate controls.
She looked around once more to make sure no one had seen her, and then ran out the entrance into the night.
In the bar, Santanna sat against a wall drinking sly grog from a jam jar.
Her shadow danced upon the wall from the
flickering of a candle, which was wedged into the neck of an old beer bottle.
Marlin was asleep in the bus and those rather odd women had retired to their van. She was alone. It seemed an age since she was her own company. It gave her time to contemplate everything that had happened.
The work on the bus had stopped until day break but Lenny had assured her that it would be fixed the very next day.
She wanted to get out of this place and as far away from Joh Kincaid as possible.
She looked up as he entered the room.
Joh had been for a wash and had a shave. He looked alluring, standing there in just a pair of leather pants.
She tried to ignore him, shifting her gaze away, pretending he was not important.
Joh grinned, drying his long hair with a towel, “So, why don’t you like me? Most women can’t get enough.”
“I’m not most women.”
“That’s why I’m interested in a bitch like you,” Joh moved over to the woman, sliding down beside her, “Look, I know it wasn’t an admirable move but I was protecting my guys. They are my family. Do you get that?”
Santanna groaned, “I would believe that statement even more if they were here too. What happened to your family?”
“There was a slight altercation over a bet. I won on a technicality that not everyone agreed with,” spoke the biker. “They pissed off with the shits. They’ll c
ome back once they have cooled off.”
“See! There is always a technicality with you. I want someone who isn’t always looking out for himself.”
“Perhaps, I just need the right woman to show me,” put in the man.
Santanna rose to her feet, “Oh, and the right woman would also let you get into her knickers too! I can wait until you’re the last man on this planet.”
Santanna stumbled out of the bar just a little tipsy.
Joh watched her leave, wishing she would believe him. He was searching for the one woman that would make him a better person.
He thought that Santanna was the one to do it; he needed someone who wouldn’t put up with his bull shit.
Marlin woke up with a start, his chest heaving, heart racing. He could still see his face even in his dreams. Winter was haunting him from beyond the grave.
He shook the evil memories from his mind, rising to his feet.
He looked out of a bus window watching the dawn break over the horizon. It looked beautiful. It made him forget about his dreams.
Marlin turned back, casting an eye over the occupants of the bus.
Santanna was asleep at one end while Sam tossed and turned at another section; his mind seemed plagued by demons too.
Marlin walked to the front of the bus looking out at the charcoal embers of the small fire. Max lay on the ground wrapped in a blanket. He realized this guy could be his answer to everything.
Commander Roth looked disheveled; her uniform was blackened and torn, her bun had come free in a tangled mess and her body seemed to ache all over.
She stood staring at the skeletal remains of the command center. It was a burnt out, broken shell.
Cross had done a good job to upset their plans but they weren’t defeated, not while one single Enforcer still lived.
A trooper came up to her, tentatively, “Ma’am, we’ve searched everywhere. It seems First Officer Cross has left the camp.”
“No one thought to stop her!”
“Well…with respect ma’am, we were trying to save the command center.”
“May I also point out, Mr Man, that you didn’t succeed,” spoke the commander. “Now, do something right for a change and find that fucking bitch.”
Commander Roth marched away from the trooper aware of the reprimand she would personally receive when Supreme Command learnt of this disaster. Her promotion would be in jeopardy unless she apprehended the man called Marlin Vickers.
They may over look this mess, if she could stop the dissident.
Roth stopped, turning back to the trooper, “Oh, Enzo, have the troop carrier readied for immediate deployment. We have a dissident to apprehend. I warn you, no fuck ups will be tolerated this time.”
She turned away from him once more heading for the mess hut.
It had been set up as a temporary command station.
The woman needed to strategize her next plan for the ambush in Dubbo.
Marlin woke the little man with his boot, rather harshly. Max opened his eyes, staring up at him.
Marlin held a mug of coffee in his hand, “Get up!
You have some explaining to do, but first, I managed to find some coffee.”
Max sat up, accepting the mug, “I can’t believe how much food is being consumed out here.”
“What’s so wrong with that?”
“It all depends on where it was grown. You could be exposed to nutrients that we’ve yet to analyze,” spoke the diminutive scientist. “We still don’t know about the side effects. There could even be mutations from exposure. It is a scientist’s wet dream.”
“It’s better than being dependent on a corrupt organization.”
Max sipped the coffee, a smile appearing on his face, “Tastes just like the coffee my grandmother use to make, it was bloody awful too.”
Marlin smirked, “So, you have something to tell me?”
“I can tell you everything about the Enforcers, those experiments in Narra and why they are so scared of those people affected by super foods,” spoke the scientist.
“You mean like Sam’s brother?”
“Yes, about that... before I say anything further. How much do you really know about that young Enforcer?”
“We’ve only just met but it seems like I’ve known him for a life time.”
“Be careful! He isn’t what he seems.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You can ask him yourself. It’s his truth to be told, not mine.”
Max prodded the fire to stir up a small flame; the air was still brisk at this hour of the morning.
Marlin sat down, feeling a chill invade his body.
Sam needed to answer some questions. He had a feeling that it was going to hurt. Marlin had already been battered enough the last few days. He didn’t need any further pain.
Lenny was stoking the fire under his still for another day of grog production. It was an endless task producing prohibited vices, especially booze.
It was the only source keeping at bay regrets and recriminations for what had happened to the world. His clients could escape on a high. It made living easier after your loved ones had decayed into dust.
He heard the rustling of leaves as someone came up behind him. Lenny turned around to find an old woman facing him, grinning like a cat.
Aunt Pat held something behind her back, her fingers exploring the sharpness of the blade, “Hello there, sonny, I hoped you would be kind enough to give this old lady some information. You see I am lost and in need of direction.”
Lenny relaxed, realizing he had nothing to fear from this old woman, “Sure, what ya wanna know?”
“That big old bus out there, where is it heading?”
The old woman grinned, cunningly, sizing up the right moment to use the blade against this alcohol soaked vagrant. He might be just tolerable, if she pickled him.
Santanna was woken by a lot of banging and crashing coming from the back of her bus. She scowled, her head throbbing. She hurried out of the bus, marching to the rear of the vehicle, “Lenny, shut the fuck up!”
Boofhead came out from the open section of the bus, “It’s not Lenny, missus, it’s ya old pal. This part anyone can do, I’m basically putting everything back together again.”
“So how did he find the parts?”
“Lenny collects all kinds of junk,” spoke Boofhead. “That’s what he earns from the sly grog trade.”
Santanna wondered where Lenny was; she wanted to thank him for his work. She owed him.
Aunt Pat chuckled as she inspected her work; the man was bobbing about in his own still, his lifeless eyes staring ahead in shock. His neck sliced through, blood seeping from the wound like a water fall.
The old woman knocked back a jam jar full of sly grog, licking her lips in appreciation of the delicious liquid.
It reminded her of an ice cold beer on a Sunday afternoon in summer time while watching the cricket with her husband.
She still remembered the feeling of his hard, worn hand encircling her own, studying the lines and marks that showed what true gritty men were made of. He was a very sweet man, always looking after his little princess.
Now, she was reduced to this, fending for herself the only way she could.
For a brief moment, she wondered of his shame. He would not approve yet he wasn’t here. The man had left her all alone. He should have fought harder than none of this would be happening.
Aunt Pat dumped the jam jar. She wiped her knife on the apron before removing it from her waist, tossing the garment upon the ground.
She hobbled away, her guts still raw from the amateur surgery.
Sam had a wash and was dressing when Marlin appeared at the door way. The young man smiled at him, reaching forward to peck him on the lips.
Marlin didn’t respond with his usual warmth, he was quite frosty.
“I think it is time you told me the whole truth,” spoke Marlin, trying to remain calm.
“I don’t underst
and. What have I done?”
Marlin’s temper began to rise, “I’ve been talking with Max. Do I need to ask again?” Sam stopped what he was doing, beginning to shake, anxiously, “If you care about me than tell me the fucking truth!”
“I didn’t know you when I accepted the mission. I was just following orders.”
“Oh, so you were just following orders when I fucked you.”
“No…it wasn’t like that. I wanted you,” spoke the ex-Enforcer, reaching out for his hand but Marlin pulled away. “I have never loved another man before you. I didn’t think it was possible.”
Marlin lent against a wooden beam behind him that stopped the man from collapsing to the floor, in disbelief, “Yet you didn’t tell me. I had to ask you. I would still be in the dark about it.”
“I had already turned my back on the Enforcers. I made my choice.” Sam advanced upon him, grabbing his hands. “I picked you!”
Marlin felt his tender touch that was toying with his emotions, “I can’t be with you…not any more. So why am I such a big threat that required you fucking with my head? Answer me!”
“They know about you. You’re the journalist that brought down corrupt politicians and exposed mafia crime bosses,” explained the young man. “You also were responsible for a break out from a conversion camp. You are trouble waiting to happen for them.”
“Well, I was rather proud of that last one,” replied Marlin, boastful. “You can’t cure homosexuality no matter how much electric shock therapy you give someone.”
Sam needed to prove his worth in this man’s eyes so confessed to him what was waiting in Dubbo. He was the pawn to get Marlin to the penal camp. He wasn’t expected to leave the area alive.
“Oh, so now you tell me! Well, that isn’t going to stop me from getting my sister out,” spat the man. “I’ve been through too much shit to stop now.”
Marlin pushed passed him hurrying to find Santanna to form a plan. She was the only person he could trust now.
