Wasteland Wonderland - Part 1

by James Harden

  Chapter 2

  She fell asleep in my arms, covered in sweat, cold to the touch.

  Cold.

  Even in this heat.

  I didn’t think about it. Didn’t think.

  Because I wasn’t thinking.

  Can you blame me?

  She was a goddess and I was in heaven. Drunk and in heaven.

  She was shivering. She was cold. Covered in sweat. No one is cold in this place.

  Not here.

  Not in the Buried City.

  Not in the Wasteland.

  Not on Earth.

  Not anymore.

  I’m still holding her in my arms and I don’t know when to let go. I don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t know how to deal with this because I don’t want to acknowledge exactly what went down.

  Ruby… if that was even her real name, she was poisoned. I don’t think she knew she’d been poisoned. Not until it was too late.

  I place her gently on the bed and cover her with the sheet. I stand over her with my head lowered. I don’t say a prayer because I don’t really know any. And I’m not the world’s biggest fan of religion.

  So I just stand over the bed, beside the bed, standing over Ruby, as a mark of respect.

  She said she was from Wonderland.

  She said she knew secrets.

  Maybe she was telling the truth.

  And maybe this is why she’s dead.

  Her skin, her hands, they were so soft. Softer than any I’ve ever felt. And now my instincts are kicking in, survival instincts I was born with and spent a lifetime honing by necessity. To survive in the Buried City, to survive in the Wasteland, hell, to survive on Earth, you need to be stronger than the next person in the food chain. And the next.

  Ruby was not strong.

  She was soft and smooth and pale.

  Her skin had never been kissed by the Red Giant.

  And she was scared. She was downright terrified.

  Of who? Of what?

  There’s no way she was from the Buried City. She was too clean and too nice.

  Maybe she was from the Deep Canyon. I shake my head. No. There’s no way. So maybe she really was from Wonderland. But if she was, then what the hell was she doing here? Why the hell would anyone leave Wonderland?

  Old timers, they talk about nights of passion. They can’t help themselves. Whenever they get together, whenever they get a sympathetic ear, they end up talking about a night, one night, during the last of the Great Wars, before the Truce, before the Arks were built. The old men talk about when they were just boys, child soldiers ordered into battle, into fierce urban warfare in ruined cities.

  They didn’t think they’d survive the night. Or the next day.

  The fear of dying alone is a terrifying one. So they’d share the night with a stranger, and if they were lucky enough to survive the killing, they’d never forget.

  I wonder... was this the same for Ruby? Did she know she was going to die? Maybe she just didn’t want to die alone.

  Then again, maybe she sought me out for protection. She knew my name. She knew where I’d be.

  She found me.

  It’s my damn reputation. A consequence of my actions in a past life, a consequence of my various professions, of years of being me. But if that’s the reason, if she really did seek me out for protection, then I failed her. I failed her miserably.

  Before I can even think about feeling angry and sorry for myself, there’s a knock at the door.

  A loud knock.

  A forceful knock.

  Whoever is on the other side is not going away.

  I’m expecting the door to come flying off its hinges any second now. But it doesn’t. They actually give me a warning. How nice of them.

  “Open up. This is Immigration and Wonderland Border Control. We know you’re in there.”

  And I’m wondering how… how do they know? And I’m wondering what the hell they’re doing here at the crack of dawn.

  In this part of town.

  In this part of the Buried City.

  Wonderland Enforcers never leave the confines of Wonderland. Not unless something big is going down.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my eyes go wide. My heart races and a jolt of adrenalin shocks me wide awake. I’m not a morning person. Never have been. Never will be. But right now, I am awake. My eyes are open. And despite the large amount of alcohol I have recently consumed, my head is clear.

  These guys are up to no good.

  And I’ll be damned if I’m going to be framed for Ruby’s death.

  Her murder.

  These guys want to play dirty?

  Then it’s time to get dirty.

  It’s time to welcome them to the Buried City.