Free Wasteland Wonderland - Part 1 by James Harden Page A

off.
    Light.
    Bright like the sun, like the Red Giant.
    Dark.
    Like the edge of space.
    The Overseer disappears. Smart move,
buddy.
    I throw the smoke grenade. And I unleash with
the rapid fire gun. An entire magazine. I shoot where the Enforcers
are taking cover, where they think they are hiding. They are
wrong. They are not hidden. I stand on the platform and mow them
down. I run out of bullets. I let the gun fall to my side. I take
out my brother’s antique handgun.
    I aim.
    Fire.
    Angel provides support from above. She’s
better than I expected. She’s a crack shot, a dead eye.
    The Enforcers fall in the tunnel. Dying.
Choking on blood and smoke. I hold my hand up, telling Angel to
stop shooting. One Enforcer is left, he is wearing a poncho. He has
a scar over his left eye.
    He has a bullet in his stomach.
    I jump down into the tunnel and grab him by
the scruff of his neck. I throw him onto the platform. “Talk.”
    He says nothing. And he does nothing except
crawl into a smaller and smaller ball. Blood pours out of his
body.
    Angel appears beside me. “Just end him.”
    “He might know something. I saw him, the
night Ruby died. He was asking around. He was stalking her. He was
real close.”
    He looks shorter than I remember. Not as
thin. Then again, I was stone drunk that night. I could barely see
straight.
    “See that patch on his shoulder?” Angel
says.
    I tear the poncho away. There’s a patch that
looks like a spear.
    “He’s a commander,” she explains. “Bad son of
a bitch. Sadistic. But trust me, he can’t tell you anything. He
can’t tell you anything you need to know. The scar over his eye,
it’s like an initiation. A rite of passage. It’s to let people know
who he is and what he’s done. To let people know that he’s a made
man.”
    I slit his throat and he bleeds to death in
less than a minute.
    I jump back down into the tunnel.
    “What are you doing?” Angel asks.
    “Getting ammo…”
    She throws the ruck sack on the ground. “Got
everything we need right here. You get anymore, we won’t be able to
carry it.”
    “I just need some ammo for this.”
    I show her the rapid fire gun. The work of
art. The pure killing machine. I think I’m in love with it.
    “What’s it take?” she asks. “Nine
millimeters, right?”
    “I don’t know. It’s not mine. And I’m no
expert. I’ve just been pointing and shooting.”
    I slide the empty magazine out and throw it
up to her.
    “Yeah, nine millimeters,” she says. “I’ve got
hundreds of these.”
    She throws me a magazine. And another. Heavy
and full of bullets, full of little promises of death and pain and
revenge.
    No.
    More than revenge… retribution.
    Justice.
    I load the gun and instantly feel a whole lot
better about my current situation, about myself, about life.
    I strip two corpses of their thermo suits. I
try and find ones that have the least amount of blood on them, the
least amount of holes. I keep looking over my shoulder as I work. I
know the Overseer is lurking in the tunnel somewhere. He’s hanging
back for some reason.
    I don’t know why he doesn’t come and finish
the job. Pump me full of poison. Torture me. Bury me in the
Wasteland. I know he’s capable of doing just that. He’s capable of
doing it single handedly.
    But he’s not doing any of this.
    Which begs the question, why is he sending
Enforcers to their death?
    He’s hanging back. Smiling. Laughing. He’s
enjoying this. He’s having the time of his life.
    And so am I.
    Maybe we’re not so different.
    I strip an Enforcer of his thermo suit. He’s
still alive.
    He begs…
    And he begs.
    For what? I’m not sure.
    He’s semi-naked and bleeding and dying and
afraid.
    And the only thing I can give him is a quick
death.
    I slit his throat. He stops begging.
     

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