by James Harden
Chapter 3
The knocking continues.
Louder and longer than I expected.
I’m guessing they’re trying to make a show to the neighbors, to whoever is around to witness this. They want everyone to know that they, the Wonderland Enforcers, they did things by the book. That they gave ample warning before they crashed the door, before they opened up. That they’re good guys.
They were hunting down a fugitive, bringing down a bad man.
A bad man who killed a nice girl.
It’s a good story. It’s airtight. It’s bulletproof.
And I don’t mind. I don’t mind being the bad guy. I’ve been the bad guy my whole life. So if they want to take their time and give me a verbal warning. Fine. It gives me a chance to say goodbye to a girl I didn’t really know.
“Open up, Hector. We know you’re in there. We’ve got a dozen witnesses saying they saw you with the girl.”
No, they don’t. They don’t got shit.
But they know my name.
They know my history.
And they’ve got a story.
It’s perfect.
I kneel down and touch Ruby’s hand. I don’t say anything. I don’t need to. I kiss her hand, her cold, soft hand. I make a promise. And I still can’t figure out what the Enforcers are doing here. The only person they answer to is the Lord of Wonderland. Or maybe the Collector. We regular folk try and buy them off with food and water. Booze and drugs. But they can’t be bought. They are untouchable because they can get all of that and more from behind the walls of Wonderland.
Which is one reason why they rarely leave.
Wonderland is a paradise, a utopia. The last stop before the Arks, before Salvation from the Red Giant. The other reason the Enforcers never leave Wonderland is because it’s just too damn hot in the Wasteland. You need to be tough to survive out here. Even with all the tech these guys have. Enforcers have the latest and greatest thermo regulator suits. These suits do an amazing job of regulating your core body temperature. But if they break, if the battery runs out, that suit will be the suit you’ll be buried in. It will become a wearable coffin.
So the question remains, what the hell are they doing here?
Who sent them?
Was it the Lord of Wonderland?
Or was it the Collector?
The knocking continues…
“Hector? It’s the Sherriff. Come on, buddy. Open up. There’s a squad of Enforcers here and more Mercs than I’ve ever seen in one place. Come quietly and you won’t be harmed.”
The Sherriff is a good woman. Well, she’s still a girl really. Young and naïve.
Full of hope and energy.
I’m not even sure how she got the top job. It’s not that she’s not capable, she’s plenty capable. She’s the best damn Sheriff this city has had in a long time. It’s just that there were other people, hard men, old and crusty men who had paid their dues and served their time.
And then the Mayor goes ahead and names little Zoe Harrison as the sheriff.
With the stroke of a pen, the nod of a head, the Mayor pissed off a lot of people. I personally think he chose Zoe so he could manipulate her, so he could groom her.
He has had no such luck.
Anyway, right now, Zoe is giving me the heads up. Giving me a run-down of what is waiting for me out in that narrow hallway of this sleazy hotel.
A squad of Wonderland Enforcers.
A bunch of desperate and hungry Mercs.
Thank you, Zoe.
I owe you one.
The door flies off the hinges and it’s time to get down to it.
I’m expecting the Enforcers to open fire. But guns are rare. Bullets are rare.
Rare and expensive.
So they send in the Mercs first and their weapons of choice are wooden batons.
Knives.
One lucky bastard has a sword.
I throw these Mercs to the floor, breaking arms and hands. I stomp on their faces, making sure they stay down.
And they do. They stay down.
I’m pretty sure they’re all dead.
I can tell within seconds that the Enforcers are regretting their decision to not use deadly force, to save their bullets, to try and take me alive. But I know it won’t be long before some hero decides to draw on me and open fire.
So I keep moving.
Most of the Enforcers and the rest of the Mercs have fallen back to a lower level of the hotel. I see some of the Mercs are armed with guns. None of them are drawn. None of them are aimed at me.
Zoe is nowhere to be seen. Smart girl.
Only two idiots remain.
Two elite soldiers from Wonderland.
They die quickly. Easily.
Their guns are still in their holsters.
Two dead Enforcers.
If I wasn’t in trouble before, I sure as hell am now.
