by James Harden
Chapter 13
For some reason, despite the fact that I’m surrounded by dead bodies, I start thinking about how Angel and I, we’re at a crossroad. I can basically see the Wasteland. Well, I can’t actually see it, but I sure as hell can feel it.
I see the tunnel that leads back down into the Buried City.
Up.
Down.
These are our two choices.
We can escape into the ruins of the above ground city. We can escape into the Wasteland. We can run. Live to fight another day. Or we can head back into the darkness of the subway tunnels, back into the depths of the Buried City, we can fight today.
We can fight right fucking now.
I take a deep breath. My heart beat slows down, the adrenalin rush of the fight subsides. My head clears. I feel like I should think these two options through. I hear my brother’s voice. The voice of reason. Know yourself, your strengths, your limitations.
Know your enemy.
Know your terrain.
Consider your origins and your options carefully.
I look around, taking my surroundings in. Studying my terrain, my battlefield. I love these abandoned subway stations. The ones closest to the surface. I love them because they are completely abandoned, completely empty. Rats don’t even come up here.
The only downside is, it’s too damn hot.
Angel is sweating and breathing hard. She’s not used to her body having to work like this, for every breath. And even though she doesn’t want to show it, show weakness, I can tell she’s hurting. And to be honest, so am I. I’m hurting bad. My brother was right, it’s hotter now. A lot hotter.
But I don’t care. I could stay up here all day. There’s no one else around to tell you what to do, or what you should be doing. No hustle and bustle of the Buried City.
The quiet.
The silence.
And the raging heat.
It’s almost peaceful.
Almost.
I lay the two thermo suits out on the ground, sizing them up, wondering if one of them will actually fit me.
“What are those for?” Angel asks.
I motion with my head to the ceiling. “They’re for the Wasteland. This suit will protect you from the sun, so we can move around during the day.”
“No, I know what they are. I mean, you’re not planning on running are you?”
“What else is there left to do?”
“I told you, we need to kill the Overseer. We don’t survive, we don’t get to live if we don’t kill the Overseer.”
“Honey, I’m not sure he can be killed.”
She points to the rucksack. “I’ve got enough heat here to bring down the walls of Wonderland. If you won’t help me, I’ll do this thing on my own.”
And I believe her. One hundred percent.
“And don’t call me Honey,” she adds.
Angel’s got the right attitude. She’s got the stomach. But if she goes in by herself, guns blazing, she won’t accomplish anything other than leaving a young and very beautiful corpse.
Come to think of it, a few well-placed bullets will take care of her beauty.
I look up at the sunlight filtering through the dusty windows of the subway station. “I figured that maybe I’ve killed enough people on Ruby’s behalf that I’m about even. Up there, in the Wasteland, we can disappear. We can start over. I’ll find you a place in the Narrow Canyon. Or the Deep Canyon. They won’t find you.”
“They will. They’ll find us both. They have their ways. And you might’ve killed a hundred Enforcers, but you haven’t killed the thing, the people responsible for Ruby’s death.”
Damn. She’s right. I know she’s right. And she won’t let me off the hook.
“The Overseer,” I whisper.
Angel lays it all down. “The Overseer. The Lord. The Collector. They work together. And together, they are invincible. Together, they are all knowing and all powerful. They own this place. The Buried City. They own Wonderland and the Canyons. They are the Kings of Earth. And unless we do something, something drastic, the tyranny won’t stop. We’ve got a chance now. A real chance. They rarely leave Wonderland, but the Overseer is here. He’s right here. He’s so goddamn close. We can take him out. We can start the rebellion.”
Rebellion.
“What the hell are we rebelling against?” I ask.
“Lies and secrets,” she answers. “Tyranny and slavery. We’re rebelling against Wonderland.”
“You really need to tell me what the hell is going on.”
“You do this for me, you kill the Overseer, and I’ll tell you everything you need to know. He’s the muscle, he’s their ultimate weapon. He protects the Lord and the Collector. If he goes, if we kill him, they’ll have no protection. No safety.”
Rebellion. It’s a crazy and rare word. A dangerous word. People get killed just for talking about it like we are, for talking about it in dark tunnels and dark alleys, in abandoned subway stations and Buried Cities.
I can’t be sure, but I think I know what’s going on. I’m just too scared to say it out loud, too scared to even think it. I know the Shuttles are taking longer and longer to get back to Earth. I know the Arks are moving further away, deeper into space.
It’s been five long years since anyone was processed. Since anyone left this rock.
We are the last ones left.
Angel doesn’t tell me, doesn’t spell it out. She says I’m better off not knowing. Maybe we’re all better off.
What difference would it make?
I shake my head. All that matters is getting my revenge. Ruby died in my arms. I failed to protect her. And Angel is right, it doesn’t matter how many people I kill, how many Enforcers and Mercs. If I don’t kill the person responsible, it’ll all be for nothing.
So I tell Angel I’m ready to do this.
I’m ready for the hunt.
I’m ready to start the rebellion.
I’m ready to kill the Overseer of Wonderland.
