by Peter Okafor
Troy paced around for a moment and then turned to Runner. “This is not funny. If you had seen what I saw, the lifeless faces of those men, the rage, it was as if their brains had been left in a bottle and corked tight. I saw them tear a man’s limb from his body while he screamed, and then they fought over who gets best parts of the entrails. Eww!”
Runner felt a sharp pain in his arm. Blood from small cuts on his arm had dried up on his skin, but he still felt the sting of the wound. He shook it off and wiped the sweat off his face with his hand.
“Look, Troy. Even if what you say is true, it doesn’t matter. What we need to do is to get out of here before Ishmael or the…whatever comes for us.”
He bent down and opened the drawers of the cabinet, searching for anything handy. He prayed and hoped to find something useful, but all he found were bleached skulls, bone fetishes, and half burnt candles. In a fit of rage, Runner pulled down everything in the cabinet, and it scattered on the floor.
“Sound, Runner. No sound or loud noise, please,” Troy said.
A loud thud echoed in the room. Everyone paused.
Runner gestured at Troy and the little girl to stay back. He strode gently, keeping to the edge of the walls to see what was beyond the doorway. Something squished beneath his shoe. He took his gaze down and saw his right foot deep in human entrails and offal.
He squeezed his face and raised his foot; sticky goo stuck to his shoes. Obnoxious as it may be, he took his mind off it quickly and continued down the dark passage. Finally, he reached a double door at the end, but it was shut tight. He peeped through its glass window and saw what remained of gambling and pool tables.
Runner forced the doors open. There were supplies of food and water left on a table by Ishmael’s gang before they fled. Maddened by hunger, he rushed into the room and towards the table but stopped suddenly. There was something hanging on a broken window. It was a boy from the Remnants of Men. Runner approached him despite the smell and then staggered to a halt.
“Wynn Rivers.” Runner read from the name tag and then took his gaze down to the wristband where a red light still flashed. “Call sign: Helix.”
One half of the boy’s head was on the floor, cut clean by something he did not know, his brain halfway out of what remained of his head. The good thing was that he still had his backpack on him, and Runner relieved it off the corpse.
“I guess we are nine now,” he said as he browsed through the bag’s contents.
Runner picked a bandage and methylated spirit from a first aid kit and proceeded to treat his wound. He took an energy bar from the bag and excitedly peeled it open.
Something creaked behind him as he took a bite.
He turned around and saw a man in a tattered black tuxedo walking away from him. The man did not seem to notice him. Runner stood up and went to reach him.
“Are you okay, mister?” He put his right hand on the man’s shoulder.
The man turned slowly. His face was pale, eyes filled with red veins, and thick saliva drooled down his mouth.
“Holy shit!” Runner reeled backwards.
The man shrieked and slapped his arm on Runner’s chest, sending him to crash on a pool table. He didn’t give Runner ample time to recover and charged towards him like a rabid dog. Runner rolled down the table and allowed the man to crash upon it.
He found a cue stick and stretched his arm to reach it quickly. The man raised the table and turned it over to clear his path to his target. Runner broke the stick in two and scrambled on the floor.
He rested his back to slant on a fallen chair. “Come on!” he yelled at the rabid man.
The man’s face grew fiercer as more black veins gathered around his eyes. He accepted Runner’s invitation and charged with so much force. Runner held one half of the broken cue stick to stand with a pointed end, and the man charged into it. The sharp end of the stick poked into his eyes and came out through the back of his head.
“Yuck!” Runner pushed the man off his body and took shallow breaths. “Now, that’s a new one,” he said and staggered to his feet.
Runner bent slightly with both hands on his knees. Sweat dripped from his face as he breathed rapidly. The ground began to shake suddenly, vibrating everything on its surface. Then he heard it—gigantic footsteps coming towards the room.
It didn’t sound like anything good, but Runner waited to see what was coming. The double door that sealed the room southwards was smashed suddenly from behind, flinging the doors from its hinge.
Runner’s heart skipped a beat and then began to throb faster. The first thing that came through the door was the enormous head of a hammer, and following behind was a gigantic man who stood no less than eight feet tall, wielding a large machete on his other hand.
His eyes too were covered in red veins, which also gathered around his eyes. He did not move as his wicked gaze locked at Runner, looking so sure on getting his prey. On the man’s bloodied apron was a black palm print, and the word butcher was written in red.
“Oh god. I can’t do this anymore,” Runner muttered.
The butcher took one step after the other, taking his sweet time to get to Runner.
“Fuck it.” Runner spat.
He turned around and darted through the north door, heading straight to the dark passageway. He saw Troy and the little girl waiting at the doorway.
“Run for your lives! Run for your…goddamn lives!” he yelled.
Chapter Fourteen
City of Glowing Mushrooms
Runner stumbled into the slaughterhouse, and Troy shut the double doors immediately. They both went behind a table at the centre of the room and began to force it towards the door.
“Push!” Runner screamed.
Troy pressed his shoulder on the side of the large table, and they pushed it to bar the door. A loud thud went off as the butcher slammed his hammer on the door from the other side. Runner retreated.
They were trapped.
He scanned the room, searching for another way out. There was none. Troy cuddled with the little girl to ease her shivering.
“Hey, you.” Runner brought out his unfinished energy bar. “You must be hungry. Have some.”
“You suck at cheering up a child,” Troy said. “Her name is Angie, and she was a child slave to Ishmael’s gang. Believe me, you don’t want to know what they did with her.”
Runner gazed at the bruises all over her and then passed the food to girl. A sudden slam on the door made him shudder.
“We need to find a way out of here, or when that door comes down—” Runner pointed at the door “—our flesh would fill the butcher’s bucket.”
Troy left Angie and walked to one end of the room. “There is a way out of here, but you won’t like it.”
“Try me,” Runner said.
Troy bent down and pushed away a pile of bones to reveal a hatch. He held its handle and forced it to open, but it proved too strong.
“Where does it lead?” Runner joined him and grabbed as they combined their strength.
One hard pull and the cover sprang open. An odious stench wafted out of the dark tunnel that ran deep, and Runner covered his nose with his hand.
“I warned you might not like it. I saw Ishmael’s gang use it to dispose unwanted parts of the humans they cannibalised on.”
Runner spat. “This just gets better and better,” he said. He took a peek into the tunnel and withdrew almost immediately. “God, this stinks.”
“I will go first.” Troy came forward. “When I get down, you send Angie.”
Runner nodded and stepped away for Troy to stand at the edge. He watched as his friend went down a ladder. With each step downwards, Troy grew continuously vague in the dark tunnel. Suddenly, his hand slipped from the ladder and down he went.
“Troy!” Runner yelled.
All he heard was his voice echoing back at him.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Runner glanced behind to find the butcher had broken half the door. The ma
n pushed his dreadful head through the opening he made, but the bar on the door still proved an obstacle. He scratched, slammed, and chewed at the door like a rabid dog. He wanted nothing more than to tear his way in.
The Butcher paused for a moment, and his fiendish red eyes were locked with Runner’s. The way Runner saw it, if he did not find a way out, the Butcher would carve his flesh out slowly for putting him through hell.
“Runner!” a voice came from the black depth.
“Troy,” Runner called, “you are alive.”
“You won’t believe what I found down here. Come on. Quickly!” Troy’s voice returned in echoes of enthusiasm.
Runner grabbed Angie and pushed her towards the tunnel. “Okay, kid. I know it looks scary down there, but you have to be brave.”
The Butcher hammered at the door again, and Runner glanced back in shock. Quickly, he helped Angie down, and she held tight to the ladder.
“Close your eyes, Angie. Just close your eyes and let go. Don’t worry. It’s safe.” Runner brushed her hair.
“I can’t…I can’t do it,” Angie spoke for the very first time, and her voice rang with fear.
“Look at me, Angie,” Runner said softly. “Troy is down there. Don’t worry. He will catch you. He won’t let anything happen to you, okay? Now, close your eyes and let go.”
Angie closed her eyes, but she couldn’t let go.
The butcher hammered the second door to break free and then began to push away the table both boys had used to bar the door.
“Angieeee!” Runner screamed.
She released her hands and screamed hard as she fell downwards. Runner readied himself to go down the tunnel. As he reached the ladder to set a foot on its steps, the Butcher threw his machete towards Runner. It went clean, tearing the skin of his right shoulder. The machete dug into the wall with force, burying half its length.
Runner lost his footing on the ladder and dropped down carelessly, smashing his head severally on the ladder’s steps as he slid down the slippery tunnel. The room’s light that was visible at the opening of the tunnel continued to grow dimmer as he descended into the depth.
The tunnel vomited Runner into an open space but not without lots of pain and aching. He lied on the ground, his black shirt and cloak soaked in blood from his chest. Troy and Angie rushed to him and knelt.
Runner coughed violently with blood forcing its way out of his mouth. Troy tore his cloth to reveal the wound.
“It’s bad, man…It’s really bad.” Troy shook his head.
Runner coughed again and then raised his head to see his wound. His flesh was torn badly, revealing white tissues in his body. Troy applied pressure on the wound with a torn piece of Runner’s cloak to slow down the bleeding.
He put his hand in his pocket and brought out his stash of Sense pills. “Here.” He forced two into Runner’s mouth. “I’m afraid it would heighten your pain, but it would stop the bleeding.”
The pain went down his body as if he was bathed in fire. Runner convulsed, trembling and shaking in spasms. It was like a poisonous sting, sending waves of pain down his nerves to his brains. Troy held him down.
“Easy, Runner…easy. It will be over in a moment,” he said.
Angie tugged Runner’s left hand, trying to keep his mind away from the pain in her own way. She tilted Runner’s head and directed his gaze by pointing at something that had been glowing for long. Runner noticed it too. They were in a field of giant mushrooms that formed an umbrella over their heads. The mushrooms glowed light green in the darkness.
Troy smiled. “I have never seen anything like it too. It is like they went through phases of mutation because of the radiation, but then, I’m no scientist from the Citadels.”
Runner’s gaze lingered on the mushrooms, keeping his mind occupied. He knew without proper medication, this might be the very end of his journey. He had beaten the odds, conquered his challenges, but this time, his body was broken. This time, he couldn’t fight his enemy with knives or bats. He smelled smoke and turned to see Troy bringing a fire alive.
“Your wound might get infected,” Troy said. “I need to cauterize it with fire. This is Rhiannon’s kind of thing, you know. I wish she were here. Somehow, she always managed to make everything seem alright.”
The smile on Troy’s face as he spoke of Rhiannon held hope, but Runner knew the truth. How would he begin to tell his friend that the girl he loved was dead and cremated? How would he explain that she was hit by the bomb while trying to stop him from killing Dope?
Troy came with a red-hot knife and a stick. With Angie’s help, he forced the stick in between Runner’s teeth for him to bite on and then smeared the knife on his wound. Runner shrieked so loud that half the world would have heard it.
The scent of burnt flesh was strong in the air.
“Wow, I never knew you could smell this good.” Troy laughed.
Heat from the fire made Runner warm. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. He wasn’t out of the boat yet. Troy might have fixed him to the best of resources available, and without the first aid kit, there was still a risk of infection.
He had seen it before—when his Aunt Celia had gone hunting a buck in the artificial wild reserved for MegaCityOne. She was shot by a ranger from Section 5 and left to die in the cold. Rhiannon had luckily removed the bullet from her breast, but for lack of antibiotics, she died from an infection.
Hours passed, and his fever began to set in. He felt it, burning in him. He was becoming too weak to move his legs or arms. There was only one thing he could do now, urge Troy to finish what he had begun.
“Troy,” he called weakly.
Troy came to Runner and removed his makeshift bandages. The wound reeked of gangrene, and he pulled his face away.
“A lot happened in the weeks you were missing, Troy. I got set up by a city dweller and then imprisoned. That was how I joined the Remnants of Men. Finding a constant supply of water is imperative not just for the big city but for our friends and families back at home.”
“But that’s impossible,” Troy said. “I mean…have you seen what’s left of the world? Old Max spoke of large bodies of water in the world before called oceans. But they are far away if they are not yet dried up. We both know how things in the big city work. They probably sent you guys down here as a profitable way of gaining from your executions. Why give them a public execution when they can make good money from your agony? I mean…kill two birds with one stone.”
Runner twisted in agony.
“Where is Angie?” Troy looked around.
The light from the glowing mushroom proved a good source of illumination, but even so, darkness still held sway over the night. Light footsteps approached them. Runner raised his head and saw Angie walking towards them with her arms stretched out, and her hands curved to form a bowl.
“What do you have there, Angie?” Troy rushed to meet her.
He looked into her hands. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Bless you, Angie.”
“What is it?” Runner asked weakly.
“Maggots,” Troy said. “Live maggots.”
“Maggots?” Runner seemed confused.
“Yes, we can use them in place of antibiotics. Over here.” He beckoned at Angie.
He pushed Runner to lie still and then collected the maggots in a pouch with perforations to allow oxygen. He placed it gently on Runner’s wound and dressed it carefully to prevent the worms from escaping the wound.
“They would eat out the infected tissues that are preventing your wound from healing. Just get some rest, and in a day or two, you will be good as new.”
Troy finished and then put his hand over Angie, drawing her close to him. “Sweet child, where did you find them?”
Angie pointed with her fingers at the foot of a giant glowing mushroom, far at one end. Troy stood up and stretched his hands.
“I’m pretty sure there are edible worms down there. Let me go find some for us to eat.” He began to walk away.
&nb
sp; Runner wondered why he didn’t salivate at the sound of that. Things were now becoming clear to him. Perhaps he should have looked for a way to escape when he had the chance than join the fool’s errand called the Remnants of Men. Now, he had to eat worms to survive.
This is a death sentence, he thought.
Angie came and lay beside him. She put Runner’s arms over her cuddled figure and rested her head on his torso. A few minutes passed, and Runner felt his eyes go dreary.
He shut them and slowly slipped into the world of dreams.
Chapter Fifteen
Death Throe
Olivia stood with her hands clasped behind her back. She watched the skyline of MegaCityOne from a large glass that served as a window to the one-hundredth floor of the Tower of Excellence. From there, she could see huge towers that represented each Citadel of Excellence, bearing digital screens with a looped video that reminded citizens of their councillor’s power.
She turned around and glanced at her mother who was receiving her daily dose of sunless tan.
“Tell me again, Mother. Why do I have to be matched with Lucan Capricorn?” She folded her arms.
“That’s because your father is going to make him a very powerful man in the city. And, dear, your father doesn’t give without receiving. He would need a leash on his new dog, and that would be you. Think of it this way: you get to have everything you could ever want.”
“But I have everything I want.” Olivia lied.
“Well…more of everything you could want,” her mother said.
Olivia walked to the machine and raised the cover to open. It revealed her mother in a two-piece swimsuit and scattered spectrums of UV light in the process.
“I’m being serious, mother,” she said solemnly. “I heard rumours that Section 5 is preparing to make a long journey to MegaCityFour in hopes of trading copper coils for tanks of water. Also, a source of mine told me that Nexus Pharmaceuticals are developing a serum that suppresses emotion in an effort to control mob violence and restrict rebel influence. Are they all true, Mother?”
Dr. Lysander rose from the tanning bed.
