by Peter Okafor
Runner found himself shaking his head.
“I don’t blame them,” he said. “They probably took to cannibalism because of the harsh conditions of life in the wasteland. Imagine being a mutant in this world where normal folks find it hard to survive. So, you think we should leave the others and make a run for the bridge?”
“I don’t like it any more than you, but we can’t take these mutants on our own; there are too many. Forget about the freshwater lake, Runner. Think about your life. It’s worth more than what your supreme councillor weighs it, you know.”
Runner peered through the side of the door. He looked to his right. There, a few mutants loitered around. Hundreds of them had gathered at the door of a mall in the distance, banging, hitting, and scratching at the door. He had no doubt that Dope and his company had barricaded themselves there, and he felt sorry for them.
To his left, there was nothing, only the smoke from Sara’s fire hanging in the air. She was camped just a couple of paces adjacent to the bridge. He could get there quickly and warn her, but the problem was that mutants were fast on their feet.
Every mutation in the wasteland was an effect of radiation. Most he had encountered around his home were not the aggressive. Bloodthirsty demons, folks thought them to be. They were just malformed people. The worst he had seen were rabid men affected by an over consumption of Sixth Sense pills, but everything was different here. MegaCityTwo did not seem to be affected by radiation, and so the question remained: Why so many aggressive mutants?
Runner withdrew and squatted to reach Legion. He picked the bow he had placed before her and hung his quiver at his back.
“What are you doing?” Legion asked.
Runner sighed. “Stay here,” he said. “I’m going for Sara and Big Sylvia. I can understand abandoning Dope, Toad, and Marq, but Sara? No way. She volunteered to serve as our guide when she had nothing to gain. I have no reason to abandon her.”
He stood up and ran to the door, resting his back at the doorpost. Legion sprung to her feet and followed him.
“I’m coming with you since you have a death wish,” she said.
A smile formed on Runner’s face. He looked from the side of the door. “I count three bogies. How do we handle them?”
“Go for their heads,” Legion said.
“Why? Won’t they die without headshots?”
Legion gazed at him. “Not really. A headshot won’t give them the chance to scream.”
“Headshot it is, then.”
Runner reached for an arrow from the quiver at his back. He drew it out and nocked it on the string of his bow. With three fingers, he drew the string backwards to his cheek, but he was aiming at a wall opposite to him.
“Aim at the mutant, Runner.” Legion urged.
“Not yet,” Runner said. He breathed in. “There are three of them out there. I have to hit three targets as fast as I can. If I miss a single mark, their screams will draw the rest of them out here.”
“So, don’t miss,” Legion said.
Runner retracted his bow and lowered it downwards. His heart was beating so fast like it was going to burst out of his chest. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Everything went numb and trapped him in a realm of deafening silence—a vivid manipulation of his mind.
Something rang in his ears, a high-pitched sound. He could see Legion’s lips moving but couldn’t hear a single word she was saying. It was as if he was suffering from a concussion, but everything was projected from his mind. He was afraid. He was scared of failing. If they all died there, he would be responsible for their fate. Every survivor would know that he led a few brave people to their demise.
There was no victory in that. The only winners would be those who sent them out to these desolate lands. In a place of death and decay, inhabited by the hopeless who had no future or even a dream of one, their sacrifice would never inspire bravery. No one would remember them.
All that stood before him and his goal were deformed crazed casualties of the world before. Should his dreams die because he was unable to summon the courage to go against the merchants of death? Rhiannon would curse him from her grave. She had always been his strength, pulling him to the right path in a shady world where every child was moulded to a malicious being. If he gave up too soon, her death would have been for nothing.
Runner inhaled deeply and exhaled to calm his nerves. Every sound or noise rushed into his ears with an overwhelming force.
“Is that a panic attack?” He discerned Legion’s voice.
“I’m not invulnerable as you think me to be. Everything I have worked towards is about to come crashing down, so yes, it was a panic attack. I’m not afraid to admit my fears, nevertheless, I must face it. Take the bow.”
“What?”
“I said take the bow.” Runner passed the bow to her. “I can hit a target with a bow but not as good as I can do with a pair of wrench knives.”
He drew out two wrench knives from the sheath at his belt. His back rested gently on the doorpost, and he crossed his hands over his chest with the hilts of his knives tight in each grip. The third knife was still in its sheath, but he knew what he had to do.
He steadied his breath and closed his eyes to focus with his ears at the erratic footsteps of the staggering mutants. His eyes opened, and he pushed out of his cover. His hands lunged free, releasing the knives from the mutants’ grips, and stabbed them into the heads of his targets.
Two bodies dropped simultaneously, alerting the third mutant, but Runner’s fingers were quick as a wink. Barely aiming, he drew free the third knife and threw at the mutant, stabbing his neck.
The deformed man slumped to the ground and struggled in death. His screams were bubbles of air for the knife sank into his windpipe. Runner walked down the street and drew his knives out of the corpses. He cleaned them on the tattered clothing worn by the mutants and placed them back in their sheaths.
Legion crept out of the shed with a bow in her hand.
“Where did you learn to throw that good?”
“Have you ever been to Rat Town? Most boys feed by winning knife throwing games.”
Runner ran back to the shed and picked up his backpack. He strapped them tight over his shoulder. “Come on, we need to get going.”
“I prefer bows,” Legion said.
“Good for you,” Runner retorted. He looked behind him to see the mutants still trying to break through Dope’s barricade.
“I’m out of here.”
He ran down the street, heading straight for the smoke that rose from Sara’s fire. His decision to abandon the search for water weighed on his mind, but he knew it was the right thing to do. To him alone, persisting in the search was worth every risk, but not everyone was as determined as him. If he should insist that they continue with the search, then he was no better than the authorities that condemned them to their fates.
The acrid scent of smoke wafted past his nose. He was near. Ducking behind a barrel that stood in front of an abandoned garage, he peered over cars on the lane to make sure the next road was clear.
Legion caught up with him, gasping for air after a stressful scamper. She closed her eyes and held her bow to her chest.
“It’s clear,” Runner whispered.
He stood up and went past the cars, heading towards Sara’s camp. There, the fire was still alive and warm, but there was no one. Runner searched every inch of the large space and found nothing, not Sara’s backpack nor even a clue as to where she went.
Something wasn’t right.
He pulled out a bottle of water from his hydration pack, opened the cover, and pressed the bottle to spray water on the fire, smothering it. He had barley fitted the bottle back in its pack when someone climbed on his back and dug sharp fingers in his flesh.
The fingers clawed down his back. He grabbed the hand quickly. Soft long curly hairs lashed upon his face like tendrils tingling on his skin. Immediately, he knew it was a girl.
“Sara!” he screamed
.
She stopped struggling at his back and came down. “Oh, fuck! Runner, I’m so sorry.”
A blood stain remained on Runner’s trench jacket. Legion came to him with a bandage as he stripped his torso bare. Legion poured a methylated spirit on Runner’s wound, and it stung him badly. She began to dress his wound with a bandage.
Sara’s face paled. “I’m so sorry. I panicked when I saw them—a lot of them—and ran to find safety with Big Sylvia.” She glanced at the large girl beside her.
Runner shared his gaze between them, but the large girl only returned a conspicuous smile like she did every time she was being stared at. Big Sylvia had never spoken to anyone since they began their fruitless task. She had been mute since birth, and they all knew that.
“So, what’s the plan?” Sara asked.
“We’re abandoning the others and going back the way we came,” Legion answered.
Loud screams drew their gaze northwards.
Someone was running towards them, or was it…Dope? Runner looked again; it was definitely Dope, and he was not alone. Toad Cooper and Marq were at his side, and they came at an incredible speed.
“Mutants!” Sara yelled.
Runner’s fingers reached down to the knives at his belt, and Legion nocked an arrow on her bow. There were hundreds of mutants a few paces behind the fleeing trio, and they were leading them right towards the group.
“Do something, Runner. Do something!” Dope’s voice could be heard much closer now.
Runner’s fingers trembled at the hilt of his knife. He was confused whether to leave Dope to his fate or help him.
“We got to go. Now!” Legion screamed.
“They are too close. They will follow us through the bridge, unless…” Sara paused.
“Unless what?” Runner asked.
“There are explosive devices placed under every bridge that connect the city to the tunnels. They were set as a failsafe to prevent hostile entry, only to be activated at that gatepost over there.” She pointed above.
“Inside this city?” Runner said and began to jog forward. “How am I supposed to cross over when the bridge is destroyed?” He stopped.
Sara hung her head. “That’s the problem. You have only a few seconds after it’s been activated. That’s barely enough time to make it back to the bridge. I’m afraid the person that activates it is as good as dead.”
“You can’t, Runner.” Legion followed him.
Runner glanced forward to see Dope and the group of mutants had made it to the workman’s shed he had been hiding before. Just a few minutes more and they would all be overwhelmed by mutants.
“There is no time, Ariel.” He held her hand. “You guys will have to continue without me.”
He darted towards the guard post and halted as he reached the door. He glanced sideways and saw Dope and Marq halting to catch their breath at Sara’s camp. He was curious as to why they took time to stop when their lives were on the verge of being snuffed out by mutants, and then his gaze pulled back to the mutants behind them.
Someone was screaming. He saw an abandoned shoe inches away from the mutants who had clustered together like ants upon a crust of bread. A hand pushed through them, and it was quickly severed by a large deformed man wielding a rusty axe. Blood sprayed upon the walls of nearby buildings accompanied by loud screams.
“Farewell, Toad Cooper,” Runner muttered.
He glanced at Dope and Marq. “Get to the bridge, now!”
Toad’s capture served as a diversion for the mutants. Runner hurried up the stairs of the post. He walked into the control room. There were so many buttons, so many that it left him confused for a moment. His gaze struck upon a lonely red button on a yellow box. He pushed it despite having doubts, and a voice prompt began counting down.
“Ten…”
“Nine…”
“Eight…”
Runner turned around and hurried down to the doorway. He made it out and darted towards the bridge. With the ragged growls behind him, he was sure there were mutants following, but he ran as fast as he could. The bridge would explode at any time. He stepped upon it, a few paces behind Dope who was heading towards the end.
Boom!
An explosive went off behind him, following consecutively as they were arranged from one end to another. The force pushed Runner to the side of the bridge, and he tripped off the handrail. Dope stretched his hand and caught Runner.
The bridge was unstable. It shook erratically as the explosions grew aggressive.
Runner looked down and saw the great chasm enveloped in darkness. “Don’t let go,” he said.
Dope’s face squeezed from the strain his arm was subjected to. “Sorry,” he said.
He let Runner loose, but the explosion tore through the bridge forcing him down the chasm along with Runner. They plunged deep down into the darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Councillor’s Justice
The matchmaking ball was one day away.
Bright lights shot from firecrackers sprinkled across the night sky, spreading in colours of blue, red, yellow, and orange. It came from every zone in MegaCityOne, a celebration at the eve of the memorable event.
The lights flashed across her eyes as she watched through her window. It would have been completely heavenly if she didn’t know that it was a façade of sheer beauty, concealing true ugliness. It was a mask worn by the government of MegaCityOne—used to deceive young unmarried girls between the ages of seventeen to twenty-five and rob them of true happiness.
Most boys never complained or showed signs of dissatisfaction. Secret lounges and sex clubs sprawled the zones of MegaCityOne. The way they saw it, getting matched to a girl they knew nothing of was a small price to pay to be bequeathed the inheritance of both families.
Olivia walked to her wardrobe and pulled out her new garb. She stood in front of her mirror and began to dress. Her match to Lucan Capricorn was the last thing on her mind today. Oliver had been captured by the spectres of Section 5 and the council had gathered to draw his sentence.
Sadness rained on her mood. Its evidence was projected by her expression, an obvious frown slapped upon her face. It was this feeling that masked every sense of joy. It made her feel like true happiness was far from her reach, a light at the end of the tunnel that no matter how far she reached, the light seemed to move further away.
She styled her blonde hair to a braided bun. Her dress was a white flowing garment with a round neck, tailored to fall down like an inverted V. She stared at the mirror.
“You can come in now,” she called to the boys standing guard at the doorway.
Troy led the way in, followed by James Wednesday.
“Wow,” he said. “You look…mature.”
“That’s the idea,” Olivia replied.
“Wait, what do you intend to do?” Troy asked.
“What do you think? I’m going to appeal to the twelve councillors and convince them to free my brother.”
James lifted the curtains at the doorway for Olivia to go through. He followed behind her with his crossbow strapped at his back.
“Listen, Olivia.” Troy hurried to meet up with her. “I told you why I risked my life to reach you. There is a mad man out there that calls himself Pope LongJaw. He has an army of hungry men heading for MegaCityOne.”
Olivia pressed a finger on her temple. “This is just too much to take. I don’t know what to do, Troy Decker. I’m sorry. I need to help my brother.”
“You don’t get it, do you? You probably think that Section 5 can handle a simple wasteland piece of trash, but I know what I saw out there. Your kind lives…”
“My kind?” Olivia’s brows furrowed.
“Yes, your kind.” Troy continued. “You big city folks don’t know a single thing about the desolate ruins beyond your large walls. You don’t know or care that life goes on out there. But I will tell you this. There are more people out in the wasteland than there are in MegaCityOne, and Pope Lo
ngJaw has united them with just a common purpose: survival.”
“Yah know, he is right, Olivia. I have seen my fair share of the wasteland, and those folks that live awt there av been surviving deadly storms and radiation. They are desperate and tougher than yah know.” James folded his arms.
Olivia set her hands on her waist. “What do you want me to do?”
Troy sank his fingers in a pocket at the side of his bag. He drew out a small piece of paper and showed it to Olivia. “This was a message from a Sand Sister…”
Olivia shared her glance between James and Troy, looking confused.
“One of them older female rangers from Section 5 tasked with gathering information by traveling deep into the wastelands.” James explained.
Olivia opened the piece of paper and read through it. “What does she mean by Second Coming?” Her gaze lifted to lock with Troy’s.
“The point is that they have a nuclear bunker stocked with food rations, arms and ammunitions, enough to give Section 5 one hell of a fight. Pope LongJaw is coming. He will hit the slum colonies first, murder the men, young and old alike, and do whatever he likes with the women. When he is done, he would proceed to MegaCityOne.”
“Have humanity degraded thus far?” Olivia’s face went bleak.
The paper dangled from the tip of her fingers and fell on the floor. James walked close to her. He sank a knee on the ground and picked the paper.
“LongJaw’s a mad cunt!” James snarled and raised his gaze at Olivia. “Forgive my language,” he said.
“No, no. He deserves it.” Olivia countered.
“Do you know what it looks like out there in the wastelands?” Troy pointed westward. “The nights are dark beyond blackness. With morning, the day grows grey like the whole world is covered in ash bearing an overcast sky. Within the building ruins, when a man thinks he has found shelter, he sits and lights his fire, only to be dragged into darkness by mutated freaks. Say what you want about Pope LongJaw; his methods might be cruel, but his idea is noble.”
