Wasteland Wonderland - Part 1

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Wasteland Wonderland - Part 1 Page 7

by James Harden


  Chapter 7

  I apologized to Lisa on the way out. Told her to keep the steel, the weapons. I gave her the names of a few people who would be very interested in all those dead bodies.

  I realize that because there’s a whole lot of Enforcers walking through the alleys of the Buried City, the Mayor has to have given them the green light to administer their own form of justice. Consequence free.

  The last Enforcer confirmed this theory of mine. Said I should pay him a visit.

  So I decide to pay the Mayor a visit.

  The Mayor’s office is heavily guarded. The entire building is. But I don’t feel like killing people who don’t deserve to be killed. So I give them the slip.

  And then I’m standing in the Mayor’s office and he’s sitting behind his massive hardwood desk and he’s giving me a look that says I’m out of my goddamn mind for coming here.

  He says, “You’re out of your goddamn mind for coming here, you know that? You’ve got a lot of nerve. How many people have you killed?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “To be honest. I’ve lost count. A train full of Mercs. A few more at that sleazy motel when you tried to ambush me, when you tried to frame me for something I didn’t do. I’m up to four Enforcers. I know that. Been counting those bastards. The Lord is going to be pissed.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Just give me some damn answers. The killing will stop. I’ll leave the Buried City. I’ll Exile myself. You won’t never see me again. I’m not afraid of the Wasteland.”

  “There’ll be no Exile. Not this time. And you don’t get to decide when it’s over. It’ll be over when you’re dead and rotting in the Wasteland. Or maybe they’ll put your body on display in the city square. A bullet in your skull, a knife in your back, your gut full of poison. Don’t you get that?”

  “Speaking of poison…”

  “Look, Hector, I don’t know anything. I swear. This all came out of the blue. We hadn’t heard a peep out of Wonderland in five years. Five long years. I was starting to think no one was home. I was starting to think we’d been left behind.”

  “Maybe we have.”

  “No, they’re just waiting like the rest of us,” he says quickly. “And besides, we’ve seen choppers flying over the ruins, we’ve seen Spider Tanks crawling through the Wasteland. But let me just ask you one question…”

  “Fire away.”

  “Did you kill her?”

  “No. I didn’t kill her. But someone did. Someone poisoned her.”

  “Poisoned?” he asks, like he doesn’t already fucking know.

  “Yeah. Wasn’t ordinary poison neither. I’ve never seen anything like it. Only one place it could’ve come from. Only one place she could’ve come from.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m not the smartest guy around. My brother got the brains and the looks. But I know when something is messed up. And this right here, this whole situation… this is messed up. The girl… Ruby… she was on the run. Don’t know what she was running from. But it had to have been big and bad. Mean and scary. Why else would she leave Wonderland? Why else would she come here to this godforsaken city?”

  “You’re asking too many questions, Hector. If you come quietly, if you make some promises, I can cut you a deal. I can get you a ticket out of this city and off this rock.”

  “So you’re working with them?”

  “What the hell do you think this is? Them? There is no them. We’re all in this together. It’s us. We’re the last people on Earth. If we don’t work together, if we don’t follow the rules, we don’t survive this.”

  “The last guy I killed, an Enforcer, he said they sent an Overseer. I’ve never seen an Overseer in my life. And I’ve seen a lot of things.”

  “Ark America. They can get you a place, your own bedroom, your own bathroom. That’s more than a lot of people ever get. They’ll forgive you, if you leave quietly, if you keep your mouth shut.”

  “There’s no forgiveness. Not until I make this right. Not until I make these people pay for what they did to Ruby.”

  “She belonged to the Collector, you know. She was a prized possession.”

  “So I keep hearing. But if you ask me, it’s pretty messed up to think of people as possessions.”

  “These are powerful people you’re messing with.”

  “Where’s the Overseer?”

  “I don’t know. I doubt he’s still here. He’s probably gone back to Wonderland.”

  That’s a lie.

  “Humor me,” I say. “If he was still here. Where would he be?”

  “Maybe the Library. Maybe the Casino.”

  “How are they moving between Wonderland and the Buried City?”

  “However they want. They’ve got transportation. Like I said, they’ve still got Spider Tanks and choppers. You know that.”

  “No. I mean, how would they move undetected.”

  The main entrance to the Buried City is a massive train station. It’s located near the center of a once great city. A great city that now lies in ruins. Half the danger of transporting people to Wonderland was getting in and out of the ruins. Lot of nasties hiding in the rubble, in the abandoned buildings and skyscrapers. I cannot believe they were hiding a tunnel from us.

  People died for crying out loud.

  A lot of people.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Mayor says.

  “Yes. You do. There’s a tunnel. According to my recently deceased friend, it connects this place with Wonderland. I need you to tell me all about it.”

  The Mayor lowers his head. He is sweating bullets. He is afraid.

  They’re probably watching him.

  The room is probably bugged.

  I don’t care.

  “Fine,” he says. “It’s beyond the Water Treatment Plant. They call it the Long Tunnel. But it’s locked. And you need an access code. No one knows it. At least, no one this side of the door knows it. And no one on this side of the door has a key. Not even me. Not the Sheriff. No one.”

  “Any of the bosses?”

  “No.”

  The Mayor finally tells the truth. Actually didn’t take as long as I expected. “Thanks a bunch.” I toss him the knife I took off the Enforcer that I shot in the neck. It’s made from high quality forged steel. It has a serrated edge. It is well balanced. It is worth a lot. “For your trouble,” I say.

  The Mayor picks up the knife. He studies the blade. “You should get a move on.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “They’re coming for you.”

  “Who?”

  He stabs the knife into the hardwood desk. “Everyone.”

 

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