by Peter Okafor
“Keep your conspiracy theories to yourself, Olivia. The role of the Remnants of Men was another way of not putting all our eggs in one basket. I don’t even believe any of them can make it five days in that hell they were sent to. That is the reason prisoners were used in the first place.”
“They might surprise you.” Olivia countered. “I saw their statistics from the test performed before they left. One in particular…”
“Is this about the boy, Runner?” Dr. Lysander struggled to fit her skirt around her waist. “Now, I know where this second thought about Lucan is coming from. I liked that kid a lot, Olivia, but sentiments don’t change the fact that Runner is a slum dweller. It is their blood and sweat that keeps our city running. There is a ninety-five percent chance he would die out there in the barren lands, so erase him from your thoughts and look towards Lucan’s coming.”
The tender ring of a bell drew Olivia’s attention to the elevator. It opened, and a woman stepped out, carrying dresses of several colours arranged in transparent plastic bags. The woman hung them on a hanging rail.
“Good day, Dr. Lysander Patterson. Here are the dresses as you requested.”
Olivia glanced at her mother, “What is this, Mom?”
“Sit.” Her mother ordered.
She sat on a chair opposite the hanging rail and gazed at the beautiful dresses. The woman pushed a mirror and set it to stand beside the rail.
“Come, miss.” She beckoned at Olivia.
Olivia walked lazily to the hanging rail. She knew the drill and began to unzip the white dress she wore. She undid her dress until she was left in her undergarments. The woman picked a silvery dress spread open from the hips downwards. Olivia wore it to match diamond dotted shoes with heels the length of a pen.
“New designs.” Olivia twisted before the mirror. For a moment, she partook in a bit of narcissism as she admired her full rear.
Her mother came behind her and began to remove the pins that held her hair together. “Lucan is going to go crazy when he sees you.”
Olivia did not feel any form of joy or excitement. She remained still as a comb went through her hair.
“Listen, Livy.” Her mother caught her attention with a name that meant she was pleading. “You must try hard to show our hosts that you are the ideal girl for their son. Be courteous, smile, loosen up a bit, and before you know it, the dinner is over. Your father might be the supreme councillor, but with the disastrous state of things in the city, the councillors might vote for a re-election, and we need the support of the Capricorns.”
“Is there no other way, Mother?” she asked.
Dr. Lysander made a final touch to Olivia’s hairdo. “Unless you have a way to stop a re-election and sever your match with Lucan.”
Olivia fastened the zip at the back of her dress and stared at the blonde beauty that was her reflection on the mirror. The elevator rang and opened. Olivia didn’t care to see who it was.
“Olivia,” she heard her mother’s voice, “your ride is here.”
She turned around and saw a boy holding a bunch of blue roses in his hands. He was in a white tuxedo with a red bow tie, and his blonde hair was dressed to lie backwards. Even without seeing his face, his demeanour and overconfidence told her everything there was to Lucan Capricorn. He leaned forward and kissed Olivia on her cheek and then presented the flowers with a smile. She placed her hand in his and led him into the elevator.
“You look…amazing,” he said.
“Save it!” Olivia countered.
Lucan didn’t seem to be stepping back. He sank his hand in his pocket and brought out a small box. He opened it, revealing a gold chain with a glistening sapphire-studded pendant, and proceeded to put it around Olivia’s neck.
“It matches your eyes,” he whispered softly in her ear.
She felt his warm breath on her neck. For a moment, he seemed like a human being. The elevator stopped, and they alighted.
“Over here, sir.” A chauffeur guided them towards a black car with tinted windows and armoured doors.
A plethora of photographers, cameramen, and journalists followed them persistently. Olivia was shocked when she saw rangers from Section 5 serving as Lucan’s personal guards.
“Why are they here?” she asked as they reached the car.
“Some zones have gone berserk, rioting for water. I don’t want to get mugged by some lowlife second citizen here in MegaCityOne.”
Olivia went silent as the driver kicked the engine. She couldn’t believe the kind of boy her parents expected her to spend the rest of her life with—someone who thought himself above everyone else. She watched from the window as they went past the Citadels of Excellence. There were twelve citadels in MegaCityOne, and each was overseen by a councillor whose word was law.
Her zone, however, was in the care of her mother. Somehow, Dr. Lysander had managed to maintain order, and people loved her for it. Perhaps it was because she was a mother who understood the importance of care. The driver drove away from the zone and into a broad road.
The car jerked to a halt. Olivia felt it despite its design to absorb vibrations. She saw a blockade in front manned by citizens with crude weapons and banners that read, NO WATER FOR US, NO TAX FOR YOU, and another went, NO REST FOR OUR OPPRESSORS, DEATH THROE IS SALVATION.
“This is the rebel’s doing!” Lucan screamed. “Get them all out of here!” He commanded.
The rangers of Section 5 stepped down from their armoured trucks and began to shoot tear gas with their weapons to disperse the crowd. In minutes, there was a large mass of thick white smoke curling around them. Suddenly, a bottle of fire came from the obscurity of the smoke and landed on Olivia’s car. Fire burst on the hood and began to spread rapidly.
She opened the door and jumped out, but Lucan was stuck in his seat belt, the smoke choking him. “Help me out of here, please.” He begged her.
For a moment everything seemed to be in place. She wanted to leave him there to die, and she would not have to deal with his arrogant family or carry on with her match. She shut her door, and his screams went numb.
Olivia walked to the other side and opened the door. She felt the heat of the fire, hot on her skin. She reached for a knife on the side of a ranger’s belt and drew it out. With a great force, she tore through Lucan’s seat belt and set him free.
The boy coughed hard and then gasped for breath. He raised his gaze at the chief guard of the rangers. “Kill them all! Kill them all! Kill all of them!”
“What are you doing, Lucan? You can’t kill people who are only reacting to their sufferings,” Olivia said.
“I can, and I will!” he shouted. “I hold my father’s position as the councillor to the Citadel of Defence, and soon, I will be the supreme councillor after your father.”
He turned to the chief guard who was reluctant to carry out the act. “What are you waiting for? Kill them all.”
“Hold that!” Olivia beckoned at the chief guard. She stepped in front of the protesters. “If you fire your weapons at them, you will have to shoot me too. Unless you want to explain that to my father, I suggest you put down your weapons.”
The chief guard halted the assault. Lucan charged forward and snatched a ranger’s rifle. He shot at the crowd, aiming poorly. The protesters reacted by sending bottles of Molotovs upon the armoured vehicles of Section 5. Olivia ran for protection. It didn’t matter if she was against the cruelty; an angry mob was a playground for destruction.
In the confusion, someone grabbed her. She felt the strong arms around her figure, and whoever it was definitely has a great brawn. She was thrown into a car, and it drove away immediately.
The car stopped, and someone pulled the door open.
“Nice dress,” she heard a throaty voice.
Olivia raised her gaze and saw a masked man standing in front of her.
“Death Throe,” she called.
“You could have just asked me to come nicely instead of whisking me away like that.” Olivi
a stepped out of the car and was received by men and women dressed in black outfits with masks of skull covering their faces.
“I told you that your plan would cost a lot of innocent lives, but you wouldn’t listen.” Olivia supported her hands on her waist as she reprimanded the rebel.
“A small price to pay for our freedom, don’t you think, sister?” The rebel removed his mask, revealing a blond-haired boy.
“Dammit! Oliver, we started this stuff to stop father’s tyranny, but now, you’re so deep into this rebel act that I can’t even recognize you anymore,” she said.
Oliver turned around, and they began to walk towards a small building. “Don’t pretend to be such a saint, sister. Remember, I wasn’t the one that came up with the idea to set Runner up so that he can be our game changer even though he doesn’t know. His girlfriend died in that bomb. I don’t think he is going to forgive you when he finds out.”
I know, Olivia thought.
Chapter Sixteen
Last House on the Left
Day five
With morning, even though the sun couldn’t still breach the thick grey clouds, the giant mushrooms folded, and their beautiful glow faded.
Runner removed the last piece of clothing that bandaged his wounds. He touched the fresh scar left on his chest and felt a bad sting. He needed more time to heal, but only half a month was given to the Remnants of Men to meet their objective and five days had been wasted already.
It was wonderful how nature seemed to take and give. Somehow, the large caps of the mushrooms merged to form a canopy that protected them from radioactive storms and highly acidic deluge. As much comfort the mushrooms provided, Runner knew they couldn’t stay there any longer, not unless they wanted to eat more edible worms and die of dehydration.
We need supplies, Runner thought.
On the floor, Troy and Angie lay across each other, still entranced by the magic of sleep. Runner squatted before Troy and shook him incessantly.
“Dude, wake up,” he said.
Troy rolled over and rubbed his eyes. “Goddamit! Runner, leave me alone.” He yawned and curled himself back to sleep.
Runner left him and walked to the foot of a mushroom plant. He bent and dug out one of its slimy roots and walked back to Troy. He lifted his friend’s shirt and forced the slimy root in.
“Snakes! Snakes! Troy, there are snakes in your pants!”
Troy scrambled in fear and jumped to his feet. He reeled backwards, and the root fell to the ground. In Troy’s confusion, he stepped on its slimy surface and slipped off his feet, landing with a thud upon Angie who was sleeping.
The little girl began to sob.
Runner ran to her and put an arm over her shoulder. “Shhhh! Hush now.” He used his thumb to dry her tears. “Forgive me, I was just being silly.”
“Yes, Runner, that was a brilliant idea!” Troy yelled. “I mean…the fact that I sleep and enjoy a dream of sexy women bringing me glasses of wine in my bathtub is the best recreation I can manage when not running away from fucking butchers with machetes. But then, I wake up, and you know what? I see your face. The same goddamn face that reminds me that I might die in the next hour or minute.”
“Calm down, Troy,” Runner said.
Troy pointed his finger at Runner. “Oh, you want me to calm down? You want me to calm down? Is it too much to ask for one more hour of good sleep? Is calming down going to change the fact that we are all going to die here? And you don’t want to admit it. Of course, you are Runner, the boy who ran things in Rat Town. You pretend as if nothing can hurt you, but you almost died just two days ago.”
“I survived, thanks to you,” Runner replied.
Troy laughed. “Come on, Runner. You are definitely not that naïve. You and I have seen it all in the wasteland. We both know that I only managed to postpone judgement day. How long do you think we can outrun the storm? How long do you think it will take before one of those freakish things get us? We have no food, no water, and no weapons to defend ourselves, not even shelter. No…nothing.”
Runner glanced at Angie, hoping she wasn’t listening to Troy as he killed any hope they had left, but she was.
“Where is this coming from, Troy?” he asked.
“Tell me. Is it true?” Troy spoke as tears welled in his eyes. “Last night in your sleep, you mumbled something about Rhiannon being dead. Is it true?”
Runner hung his head down for a moment. Oh god. He sighed.
“Listen, man. I didn’t mean…”
“Is it true?” Troy cut him short.
After a brief silence, Runner nodded. “She was hit by rebel bomb blast that got to Rat Town. I’m sorry, Troy. I should have said something since, but I just didn’t know how to…say it.”
Troy walked into the plants and disappeared amongst the mushrooms.
“Come on, Angie.” Runner helped the girl up. “We’ve got to search for food.”
Runner smothered the small fire that still burned. He gestured at Angie with a nod, and they began to walk into the mushroom field. He didn’t find it hard navigating through the giant plants, and before long, he stumbled upon a bog.
He gazed at the green waterlogged mire of peat. There were many cars that were half sunken in the bog, and their roofs were visibly arranged in a long line.
“Troy must have come through here,” Runner said.
Angie nodded.
“What do you think happened here?” her soft voice sounded.
Runner took a long look at the pile of cars caught in the bog. “Well, the cars were here before the peat accumulated. People must have seen a great disaster coming, and they screamed and left their cars and shit their pants. Who knows?”
Angie clutched tight to Runner’s right arm. He glanced at her. “Don’t be scared. The roof of the cars makes an excellent bridge to cross the bog. Believe me, I have seen worse. Once, I went in search of valuable metal with my friend, Sink. In his greed, he tried to reach for one shining copper wire when the pile of bricks he stood on started to move. Before I could say ‘Sink!’ he sank into quicksand.”
Runner smiled. “Come on.” He lifted Angie up to climb the bonnet of the first car.
Angie reached for the car’s roof and continued to the next. Runner helped himself up and quickly followed behind her. One step after the other, he walked on the car roofs. He stepped on a car that pressed further into the bog and almost lost his footing, but Angie held him still.
Finally, they came to the end of the bog and went down the last car. A loud shriek came from a building ruin in the distance, and then gunshots followed.
“Troy!”
Runner darted towards the building, leaving Angie behind. He rushed up the stairs that stood in front of what seemed to be a courthouse and went past its half standing white pillars stained by years of decadence.
The gunshots stopped.
He stumbled into the door of the courthouse and found a trail of human corpses scattered on the floor. The first thing he did was to go for a chair and break off one of its wooden foot. He gripped it tight and held it to his shoulder. Someone stepped through the door, and he turned quickly.
“Angie,” he whispered as he saw her. “Wait for me there. Let me check this out, okay?”
She nodded in reply.
Runner stepped into the judge’s chamber where half the roof of the building had crashed into. There was a wide opening above, and he could see the grey sky. He opened the next door slowly and stepped over a corpse.
Bang!
A gun fired, missing his shoulder by an inch. Runner ducked at the side of the door.
“Don’t come any further…or I will fucking blow your head off!” a woman shouted amidst tears.
Runner peered through the side of the door and saw an elderly woman with a hunting rifle, kneeling beside a corpse.
“Don’t shoot! I’m not armed, I swear it,” Runner said.
Bang!
Another shot sounded, and Runner jerked backwards. “I sai
d don’t shoot.”
“You can swear from the sky to the earth, but if you take one step towards me, there won’t be much of your brains left. In case you haven’t noticed, words don’t mean shit these days.”
Despite her warning, Runner stepped out of his cover, raising his arms in the air. “See for yourself. I’m not armed.”
The woman pointed her gun at him. “You’ve got guts, kid, coming out here like that.”
“Like you said, words don’t mean shit these days,” Runner said. “I’m just looking for my friend. He came this way not too long ago.”
She glanced at the dead man on the floor and tears began to roll down her eyes. Runner stepped towards the corpse to see it closely. A large chunk of flesh was missing from its jugular. It seemed like a nasty wound for anyone to endure.
“He was your husband, right?”
She nodded and began to sob.
“Those freakish rabid people took a chunk out of him when we came across a crater where bodies were being dumped by men in military wear. There were a lot of creeps coming wildly at us as if their minds have been infected with another form of madness.”
Runner squatted beside her and pulled off his shirt. “Look at what one of them did to me,” he showed her his long scars. “I don’t know the real cause of their craziness, but I intend to find out. So, where did you come from?”
Angie stumbled into the room.
“I told you to wait outside,” Runner said. “I didn’t want you to see this.”
The woman pushed her hunting rifle aside and moved herself towards her dead husband. She pushed his corpse to roll over, revealing a black recurve bow he was lying upon. She lifted the bow and presented it to Runner.
“Take this, kid. There isn’t much bullet left in my rifle, but I’m sure you can make something of this,” she said. “My husband and I did something very bad. That is why we left our home to come to MegaCityOne. There are lots of men searching for us, and if they find you here, well, you are smart enough to know what happens.”
“What about you? We can’t just leave you here.”
