Wasteland Wonderland - Part 1

by James Harden

  Chapter 8

  I thought about killing the Mayor. How corrupt is he? How far gone? I decided not to. He’d helped my brother get me out of the underworld way back when, helped broker the deal. He even gave me a map of the Wasteland before I was Exiled. So yeah, for this reason, I don’t kill him.

  Maybe I’m getting soft.

  Anyway, the good Mayor said I’d find what I’m looking for at either the Library or the Casino.

  I decide to make my way to the Great Library of the Buried City first. I do this because the Casino is run by some people that I’d rather not deal with right now. It’s run by some people who probably still want me dead and buried and Exiled.

  It’s funny, here we are at the end of the world, the end of life on Earth, and people still want to gamble, people still want to risk it all for the small chance of victory, for the small chance of beating the big odds.

  People gamble with everything. Everything from food and water, to tokens, even people’s lives. There’s a rumor flying around that a guy lost his ticket to Wonderland a few years ago, more than a few years ago. But then there are also the rumors of people winning. Winning big. Winning their way into Wonderland.

  Maybe this is why people do it.

  To win big.

  On to one of the Shuttles.

  Winning a home on one of the Arks.

  So yeah, maybe this is why people keep gambling, keep taking their chances and risking it all. Maybe it’s why they keep putting their lives and their family’s lives up as collateral.

  The weird thing is, the slot machines, they take coins, they take gold dollars and silver dollars and pounds sterling and pennies and nickels and dimes, even though these coins are worth more if they are melted down and made into something useful. If I had to take a guess, I’d say that to the people who gamble with them, the coins, they represent hope. And to the gangsters who run the Casino, these worthless coins represent control.

  I picture myself walking in there right now.

  I picture the fight.

  I picture all the trouble.

  I shake my head. I’m going to need some time to prepare myself for something like that.

  So it’s off to the Library I go.

  My brother and I have used the Library as a meeting place before. The Mayor knows this. I guess it could be a trap, a set up. But it would be no worse a trap than the Casino would be.

  Anyway, there’s only one way to find out. I head for the Great Library, a building that contains the entire history of mankind, both real and fake, biased and unbiased. Within the pages of the books, within the dusty covers are lies and truths and stories too fantastic to be real.

  Usually the place is full. Full of people who want to better themselves by reading up on the terrible history of the human race, full of people who want to escape from this world into a fictitious world with fictitious characters.

  I once asked my brother why he reads so much, why he spent so much time in the Library.

  “To learn everything I possibly can,” he answered. “To reject the useless and keep the useful.”

  I said, “Bullshit. What’s the real reason?”

  He said so he could become a better liar. “To be a good liar, you need to know the truth of things.”

  I never understood what he meant by that, but then again, he was always smarter than me.

  Bastard.

  I walk to the front desk and I’m surprised to find the place isn’t entirely deserted.

  The Librarian is still here.

  Nice old lady. Runs the place by herself. Not sure of her name. I was always better with faces.

  “Hector,” she says because she knows my name, because maybe she knows everyone’s name. “There’s someone here to see you. He’s waiting in the back. In the law stacks.”

  “Friend?” I ask.

  “A better friend than you deserve.”

  I walk past the main common area, past rows and rows of hardwood tables adorned with reading lamps. The tables and the reading area give way to rows and rows of bookshelves. Towards the back, there’s a stairwell that leads down into a lower level basement.

  The Law Library.

  An entire library, an entire basement devoted to the laws of the human race, to a dying civilization.

  Down in the basement there are more shelves. Some of them are moveable to save room. You can slide them together. Like a giant accordion.

  Someone grabs my shoulder. There’s only one person who’d be brave enough to sneak up on me like that. Only one person who could sneak up on me like that.

  My brother pulls me into a forgotten row of shelves that contain forgotten laws.

  He’s holding a set of keys. “There’s a Sunspeeder with your name on it. You can make it. It’s not too late. Provided you leave right now.”

  “Why the hell would I leave? I like it here. Life’s just starting to get interesting again.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Hector. You’ve pissed off a lot of people. You’ve pissed off the wrong people. You need to go. You need to go right now.”

  I’ve never seen my brother like this. Stressed out. Fearful. And I sure as hell don’t want to drag him into this mess.

  “Who have you been talking to?” I ask.

  “Does it matter? The Mayor. The Sheriff. They’re all freaking out. The city is crawling with Enforcers. It’s only a matter of time before they find you, before they all find you and back you into a corner.”

  I imagine being surrounded by a bunch of elite soldiers, armed to the teeth with high-tech military grade weaponry. It sounds like a dream come true. A kind of fantasy where I get to kill a whole lot of people, completely guilt free.

  “I can help you,” he says. “But we’re running out of time. The Sunspeeder is hidden in the Wasteland, at the old spot.”

  My brother and I have a few secret places in the Wasteland. These places contain hidden treasure chests and caches of survival equipment. We are the only ones who know where they are buried. Some of them, most of them, you can only find with a GPS tracking device. Otherwise you could spend a lifetime looking for something buried in the Wasteland, in an endless desert, finding only dirt and sand.

  The ‘old spot’ he’s referring to, is an old military style concrete bunker. I think it used to be a weapons and supply cache. Last used by the military during the Great Wars. Most of the bunker is buried, swallowed by the Wasteland. Only a small door is visible, and it’s only visible if you know where to look. And only if you know what you’re looking for.

  I take the keys to the Sunspeeder and I lie. I tell him I’ll go. I’ll go all the way to the Narrow Canyon. I tell him they’ll never find me in the maze of tunnels and caves and canyon walls. This is what he wants to hear. I don’t know if he believes me or not. He can usually tell when I’m lying.

  He’s about to say something, probably something about how he doesn’t believe me, but then the lights go out. And the entire Library falls into darkness. My brother takes out a flashlight with a red light filter. My brother is prepared because he’s always prepared.

  Tiny emergency lights built into the floor show the way out, back the way I came in.

  “They’re here,” he whispers. “I told Meryl to cut the lights when they arrived.”

  “Who’s here?”

  “The Enforcers. The Overseer.”

  “You really think they sent an Overseer?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  My brother is not messing around. Not that I am either. I’m in this to the end. The very end. I’m ready to kill as many of these bastards as it takes.

  “Do you need your gun back?” I ask.

  I open my jacket to show him my arsenal.

  Two handguns.

  The rapid fire.

  “Jesus Christ,” my brother whispers in absolute disbelief. “Where…” He is about to ask me where I got them. But he figures it out. He waves the question away. “I don’t want to know.”

  “So, do you need yours
back?” I ask.

  “No. I’m good. You keep it.”

  He turns away from me and starts walking deeper into the Law Library.

  I have no choice but to follow him. “Where are you going?”

  “There’s an exit back here.”

  “I should take care of these guys first. I don’t trust them not to hurt you.”

  “I can look after myself. And besides, they’re not interested in me.”

  “They’ll be interested once they find out we’ve been talking.”

  “They won’t find out. And they won’t find me.”

  My brother shows me a small entryway, which is basically a hole in the wall. An air vent.

  “Where does it lead?” I ask.

  “Into the tunnels.”

  “I’ll get lost in there.”

  “Make sure you walk uphill. You’ll eventually come to a station. From there, you can find the outside. Trust me, you’ll feel it before you see it.”

  “Feel what?”

  “The heat.”

  “Oh, right.”

  I’d been to the stations before, the ones closest to the surface. But I’d never made my way to them from this deep. And never from the Library. This was a recipe for disaster. There was an overwhelming possibility, an overwhelming chance that I’d get lost.

  Maybe I should’ve gone to the Casino after all.

  “Get to the Sunspeeder,” my brother says. “Get to the Canyons. Make yourself scarce.”

  I take a deep breath, I’m about to crawl through the air vent. I’m about to prepare myself for the endless dark of the subway tunnels.

  Before I go, I ask, “Did you or your contacts find out anything else?”

  My brother is looking over his shoulder. “Yeah. I asked around. And apparently, the poison they used, it’s not a natural poison.”

  I kneel down next to the metal grate that covered the air vent. I take notice of what appear to be bite marks and claw marks. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, it’s not found in nature. Anywhere. They cooked it up in a lab. It was designed to be untraceable. Fast acting. Lethal.”

  “Anything else?”

  “The girls, they’re definitely from Wonderland. Word is, they belonged to the Collector.”

  “I already knew that,” I say, sliding the metal grate out of the way. “Wait, did you say girls? As in, there’s more than one?”

  “Yeah.”

  I try and think about what this means. “Doesn’t make any sense. People. Girls. Born and raised in Wonderland. Why are they leaving? No one ever leaves.”

  “I figure they were being mistreated,” my brother says. “By the Collector. Or by the Enforcers. I figure they were being raped. Abused. I don’t care who you are, Wonderland ain’t worth that.”

  He’s right. Some things in life just ain’t worth the price. “I thought you said you couldn’t help me on this? I thought you got a new job.”

  “I did get a new job. And I can’t help you with this. And I’m not here. I was never here. Got it?” He gives me another spare magazine for the handgun. Another fifteen bullets. Another fortune. “Go. Get out of here. Remember, walk up hill.”

  I’m hearing rumors. The Collector. The Lord of Wonderland.

  A goddamn Overseer.

  Problem is, I’m hearing the same rumors from everyone, from reputable sources, from my brother. Which means either someone is laying down some A-grade misinformation, or the rumors are actually true.

  I’m hoping it’s the former.

  Someone or something enters the Law Library. My brother and I both sense it at the same time.

  Not Enforcers.

  Whoever it is… is quiet.

  They are careful.

  Calculating.

  Something small and deadly slides along the floor of the library, coming to a stop at the side of my boot. It is a goddamn grenade. I can’t tell if it’s a frag grenade or a smoke grenade or something high-tech from Wonderland.

  I kick it away, back down the center aisle.

  We barely have time to take cover.

  A split second later it detonates.

  It was a frag grenade.

  It destroys book shelves and books.

  Wood and paper.

  Words and history.

  Laws and crimes.

  I don’t know if my brother is dead or alive. He could be buried under a thousand books, under the rubble and debris. He could be blown to bits.

  I don’t know. But there’s nothing to do but keep moving.

  Keep fighting.

  If I stop, if I look for my brother, I’m as good as dead. If my brother is alive, he can look after himself. On the other hand, if he’s dead, he’s dead. And there’s nothing anyone can do anything about that now.

  Move, dammit Move!

  My limbs are in shock. My ears are ringing. I am completely disorientated. I get to my feet. I try convincing myself that I am ready for this fight. For this battle.

  Ready for war.

  And that’s what I’m expecting. I’m expecting war. I’m expecting a small army. But there’s no army.

  It’s just one man.

  I see him moving off in the distance, through the smoke and the dark. He’s quick and agile. Taller and thinner than I expected. He almost looks malnourished.

  The Overseers are seen as these mythical, legendary beings. Stronger and smarter than the rest of us. Genetically enhanced. They were designed, created to supervise and oversee long interplanetary flights, and eventually, interstellar flights. They were designed to look after the people and carry out constant maintenance on the ships and the Arks and the Shuttles.

  They were designed to be better than us, better than mankind, better than the human race.

  They weren’t created to be killers.

  And yet this is what I hear all the time.

  Rumors about how goddamn dangerous they are.

  And I don’t know, I expected him to be bigger. Not necessarily taller. He’s plenty tall. Tall enough to see eye to eye with me, and there’s not many people who do. But yeah, I expected him to not look so malnourished.

  Either way, I’m not messing around with this guy, this thing. I take out my gun. And it’s funny how I’m already calling it my gun, when really, I only just relieved the dead Enforcer of it. I mean, the gun is still covered in his blood.

  His blood.

  His life force.

  The blood hasn’t even fully dried and coagulated and I’ve already taken ownership.

  I flick the safety off and take careful aim.

  The thin man, the Overseer is fast.

  And he won’t stay still.

  I waste bullets, a handful of bullets that I could’ve traded for so much booze and deep fried meat.

  I move back against the far wall, I see the exit to the tunnels. It’s just a hole, a vent. It had been covered by steel mesh to keep the rats out. To keep the bigger roaches out. But this mesh had been carefully dismantled, probably by my brother, or maybe it was the Librarian. I wonder if she’s still alive. I see where the mesh has been twisted and bitten. The rats have still tried their best to get in here. You have to admire their persistence and determination.

  I ignore how big these rats get. I ignore how big their teeth get. I push these images from my mind.

  The Overseer moves. I see him in the corner of my eye. He throws something at me.

  Throws…

  Why isn’t he armed with a gun? A rapid fire gun. One with a silenced barrel and an extended magazine.

  I feel a sting on the back of my hand. Like something, a dog or a rat has taken a bite. And my hand goes completely numb. My fingers stop working. I drop my blood covered gun.

  My whole arm goes numb and limp.

  Useless.

  Something is wrong…

  I look at the back of my hand.

  There’s this dart.

  It’s pierced the skin. Pierced right between the bones of my hand. It’s a needle. Something
small and pointy. It’s hard to make out because it’s dark and my vision is starting to fail me.

  Everything, and I mean fucking everything is hazy and blurry. Like I’ve had a gallon of fortified brew and as much beer to chase it all down with. I know I don’t have much time. I know the Overseer will be coming in for the kill. I know he will want to get nice and close to do this. He might not have a gun, but he’s definitely got a knife.

  He’s definitely got weapons and poisons and hi-tech killing instruments from Wonderland.

  Hell, he could probably kill me with his bare hands.

  My left arm still works. So I reach under my jacket for the rapid fire gun. I hold on tight. I see the Overseer moving down the center aisle, coming right for me. He’s not even bothering to hide or duck. He’s not concerned about taking cover.

  He is not afraid of me.

  I unload a full magazine. I don’t aim because I can’t aim. I spray and pray. And the bullets chop the wooden shelves to pieces. Books and knowledge and wisdom and history and lies are torn to shreds.

  The Overseer finally takes cover, diving behind some rubble, disappearing into the darkness and the shadows created by the emergency lights and the flash of my high-tech military grade rapid fire gun.

  The entire magazine is empty in seconds.

  Again, I can’t help but think about how much money I just wasted. I push the thought from my poisoned mind. It was money well spent. It has bought me some time. Just enough to slip through the exit, through the hole in the wall that leads into the subway tunnels.

  I have the presence of mind to grab the gun I dropped, and my brother’s torch. Without it, I’d be blind.

  I can hear my brother’s words of advice, his vague directions…

  Walk up hill. You’ll feel the heat.

  I wish I knew which way was up. Or down. Left or right.

  But I don’t.

  I can hardly think straight.

  It takes me forever to realize that I’ve probably been poisoned with the same poison that ended Ruby. And that I could very well be dying.

  My left arm goes numb and limp. I let go of the rapid fire. It swings faithfully back to my side as a result of the strap that’s around my neck and my shoulder.

  I hunch over and I start running as best as I can.

  As fast as I can.

  I know the Overseer is coming for me.

  I know he won’t stop.