Chapter 12
The narrow street was completely blocked by the vehicle wreckage smouldering like a mortally wounded beast, savage in nature yet no longer able to muster any strength. People came to look at it, whispering to each other and pointing.
“This is where I found you,” Samuel said, panting as he pulled over.
I looked at the remains of Big Simon’s truck, lying in what used to be an affluent neighbourhood--standing as testament to the degeneration of Earth's society. In stark contrast, this area contained some of the few remaining homes that still had some of their old glory. Because of this, the neighbourhood was highly populated. Unfortunately, the area also was home to the city's current most powerful warlord. It made for a wary balance. The sight of the vehicle wreckage triggered my only memory of the blast, when we fired at the truck and it blew up. Everything went black after that. I walked towards the people surrounding the truck. One man looked at me and pulled on his friend’s shoulder. They talked to each other and then one said, “Hey, aren’t you one of the ones who was fighting here?”
I turned to Samuel, to see if it was safe to answer. He shrugged.
“Yeah, I was here.”
The tall, thin man came over to me, looking stern. When he got close, his hand came out and grabbed mine, shaking it.
“Thank you, thank you very much. Another tyrant, another bully smashed. Maybe if we keep this up, there won’t be any left to terrorize us.” He laughed and his friend joined in.
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Do you know where my friends are now?”
“Why, they're on the hill, in Big Simon’s house. They’re working with the coalition.”
“The coalition?”
“The coalition of citizens, working for a safe society, anyway, that’s what we hope,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders and walking back to look at the wreckage.
I turned to Samuel, who was still recovering from all the physical exertion. I guess he spent too much time in his little lair, and not enough time outside, moving his muscles; beads of sweat were glistening on his bald head.
“Do you know where it is?” I asked Samuel.
“Follow me,” he said, not wanting me to get in his trailer going up the steep hills. I followed on foot. He was not moving too quickly, so it was not too difficult.
"On this hill," I said to him, "your buggy just seems to be slowing you down."
He gasped at me, as if to respond--but kept on riding his bike up the hill. I was able to walk right beside him at that point.
The city was built around this majestic hill. In its heyday, I’m sure the more affluent members of society would live up there. Now, it was reserved for the most brutal, the warlords to claim as their prize, to become king of the hill. Climbing up the hill got steeper and steeper. Turning around, it afforded a clear view of the ruined city--how far it stretched.
"Wow, look at that." For the first time I noticed the clear blue water that stretched across the entire horizon.
"The ocean Tyler. I guess it's new to you. I can see from your face you're quite impressed."
"Unbelievable. I've seen the blue seas from the station, but never down on the ground like this."
"Hah! If you could see your face. We've other things to worry about though."
"My friends."
For a moment, I thought of Big Simon. I had never met or known him in any way; but I imagined him looking out at his domain arrogantly--pleased in his achievements. He was dead now, like probably countless others before him. I couldn't see any of them having longevity at the top.
"We should keep moving," Samuel said.
I laughed.
"If you needed to stop for a breather, don't blame me."
Samuel couldn't muster a response. We were near the top of the steep hill--and Big Simon's former mansion.
"It's not too far now, just up at the top there," Samuel said, wiping his sweat stained eyes.
"It's something all right. I can see why it would be a prize they would fight over.”
Like a weed growing through pavement, the mansion stood up high--a lone survivor.
“This is it,” Samuel announced as we arrived at the foot of a large mansion. Its structure was more or less intact. There were bullet holes and large chunks taken out of the side of the building, but through all the pain, the original glory of the house could still shine through. Samuel put his bike underneath the stairs leading up to the front of the house. He appeared unsettled as we walked up the stairs, looking warily from side to side, keeping an eye out for enemies.
“Don’t be so paranoid,” I said.
“Easy for you to say. Spend a couple of years around here and tell me how you feel. This whole area around here has been off limits for the last six months, since Big Simon has been in charge. Only the loyal goons would dare to show up here.”
“Well, he’s barbecuing in his truck right now, so don’t worry about him.”
“There’s always another one around the corner,” Samuel said.
There were two large wooden doors each having a brass knocker. It was a testament to their solidity that they were still there, a little worn and dented, but there none the less. I thought about knocking, but then I realized politeness was a low priority, security was higher; and a stealthy entrance was the best strategy. The door creaked into the cavernous entrance way as I slowly opened the door.
Inside, the once regal decor had been manhandled as if by several years’ succession of rambunctious partying. Sheets of carefully detailed wallpaper hung half off the walls. Portions of the banister leading upstairs were broken. I noticed a painting of a pompous ex-homeowner posing stiffly, held up on the wall by a knife right through the canvas. There was loud arguing to be heard from upstairs.
The sound of people obsessively preoccupied with other matters eased Samuel’s edginess. Silence would've been much worse, like a dark bedroom to a frightened child. We could here the sounds of townspeople.
“They must be up there,” Samuel said.
“Let’s go check it out.”
Then, more than ever, I wished I had my gun. The sound of Martina’s voice as we got to the top of the stairs made me feel more secure.
“Let’s all calm down,” I could hear her saying.
At the top of the stairs, there was a hole in a wall, which in better times had once been a doorway. Inside was a large room a long table as its centerpiece. There were all kinds of people around the table, and they all spoke in unison. The sound was shrill and piercing. Martina was standing in the middle, alternately waving her hands and then holding them to her head, as if it were about to explode. She was fighting for order, fighting to control the heated argument, trying to let level heads prevail, but it looked like a losing battle.
Andy was in the corner, holding his gun tightly, as if he were debating on opening fire on the whole lot of them. Martina turned and saw me. Her look went from frustration to joy.
“Thank God Tyler, you’re alive!”
“I could say the same thing,” I said and we hugged.
Andy came over. Even he looked happy to see me; maybe he was just glad to see someone less talkative than the dozen people crowding the room. No one else seemed to notice my arrival. They were passionately arguing their points of view.
“We need to make this house a focal point of the new democratic movement,” one voice yelled.
“What difference does it make where we set things up? We need to discuss real issues,” another voice shouted over top of the other.
There was one woman speaking so loudly that it came out in a shrill piercing scream, of which nothing was decipherable. She kept forcing herself into the middle of the melee, causing the crowd to be in constant motion, mostly moving around the table to get away from her.
“Awww,” Martina gasped. “Let’s go to another room.”
We went to one side of the large room and into a corner bedroom. There was an odd assortment of furniture in the room. A mix and match assortment of the best things that could be pilfered from the surrounding area. Samuel, Martina, Andy, and I took refuge in the room, closing the makeshift door constructed out of a huge piece of flat wood. It did not drown out the voices completely, but it muffled the more annoying decibels.
“What’s going on here?” I asked.
“Democracy!” Martina said.
“Their warlord is gone. It's left a vacuum which everyone has an opinion on how to fill,” Andy said. “It makes me want to support a new tyrant, just to shut 'em up. I’d like to find that Dan guy. He could do the trick. Who’s this?” He said, pointing to Samuel.
“Don’t you remember?” Martina said. “He’s the one who took Tyler off the street when we killed Big Simon.”
“Sorry, I didn’t remember. I was a little busy at the time.”
“Where’s Doug?” I asked.
“I was hoping you'd know where he was,” Martina said.
“We’ll have to deal with that tomorrow. It’s getting late already.” I said.
The crowd in the room was getting more and more rambunctious, and it appeared that no two people had common opinions. Everyone was trying to shout down the others.
“We’re not equipped for this,” Martina said. “We’re soldiers, not diplomats. Why haven’t they tracked us down by now? You all still have your security passes?”
Andy and I nodded.
“These people, they’re driving me nuts with all their panic!” Andy said.
“They know the routine,” Samuel said.
“What do you mean?” Martina asked.
“Big Simon is gone,” answered Samuel. “No matter how distasteful he was to me, or many others in the city, he has now left a vacuum. There are always gangs of marauders, scavengers wandering the city. To greater and lesser degrees, these gangs are willing to do what it takes to make better lives for themselves. There are remnants all over of a previous, more advanced, society. Most of us spend our time picking valuable tidbits from this past world from the rubble; useful items to make our lives a little easier. These gangs do the same thing; except they might be more likely to search for guns as opposed to myself, who might find a functioning fridge, or stove, more valuable. So, we have this vacuum of power, left by our dead friend Big Simon; now comes the struggle, the fight for power. These people in the other room are dreamers. They hope to build something by the people, for the people; but it won’t come like this.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because the situation is highly unstable right now, that doesn't help their cause at all. Do you think these dangerous gangs are just going to stand by while a bunch of do-gooders take charge? No, there will be a much more primitive altercation, a much more aggressive altercation—soon enough. That is probably why they are so excited. Those people know this as well as I do, they've lived through it many times before. They've seen warlords rise and fall. They know the routine. You guys are probably the only thing that gives us a temporary stability.”
"Whadaya mean?" Andy said.
"You took down Big Simon. You've built a quick reputation. That'll keep the others at bay--for a while."
"For a while," Martina repeated.
**
Night fall was coming yet again. The house had turned into a commune for the brave civic-minded citizens in the area. All the rooms were taken up by groups of people; a young couple with two kids in one large room, several of the older, more vocal members in another. Without really discussing it, Martina, Andy, Samuel, and I readied the room we were in for ourselves. The kitchen downstairs was powered by a working generator and was stocked with food; a bountiful luxury in this town. We ate and went back to the room. I asked her how the battle went after I was injured.
“We didn’t know what we were doing, Andy and I. We really were just defending ourselves, but I guess there was a lot of people watching, people who were sick of Big Simon and his goons. After the truck blew up, I could hear cheers coming from the streets and alleyways on both sides. It was like we accidentally became freedom fighters, but that wasn’t what I was thinking of. You were injured, Doug had disappeared at that point, and Andy and I were just trying to stay alive. It’s funny really, the way it happened. After Big Simon getting cooked, the rest of his men were leaderless, and none of them seemed to have a clue what to do. Citizens were bolstered by the victory, and one big, strong guy came out with a shovel and smacked one of Big Simon’s thugs right in the back of the head. The shovel on his thick skull made a resounding smack, and it sent off another cheer. Before we knew it, we were in the middle of a revolution. Someone grabbed the unconscious thug’s gun and we found ourselves in the middle of a mob heading for this house. I thought there would be more fighting, but there were not many more of Simon’s men. Anyway, the few that I saw were running away. They had no leader, and certainly no will to fight.”
“So, how'd you end up here?”
“It was like the mob thought of us as leaders, but they really led us to this house. It was kind of strange. It did appear to be a routine. It must be crazy to live in a world like this.”
“We’re finding out quickly enough,” I said, walking towards the window.
The sun was going down over the jagged skyline of the city. Andy and Samuel had already started nodding off in respective corners of the room, weariness left little room for formal ‘good nights’. I looked around at this strange room, a microcosm of the whole city, perhaps the whole planet. It was oddly furnished with broken antiques and industrial metal boxes. I guess that was the culture—whatever you could find to suit your needs—and the people who were most recently living here—the warlord and his cronies—they were the ultimate ruthless scavengers.
I sighed, looking out the window.
“We should try and get back to the Earth dome now,” Martina said, coming over beside me to look out the window.
“Yeah, we can’t stay here fighting every gang in the city. It'll never end.”
“We did pretty well for a couple of days here,” Martina said.
“Yeah, I guess so; we’ve got to get back though.”
In a rare show of chivalry, the three men left the sole bed for Martina to sleep in. She normally would scoff at any preferential treatment due to her gender, but the fatigue let her accept it willingly. With my head propped up by my backpack, I managed to get a spot on the floor where I could see the sunset out the window. There was no longer any glass in the window, just jagged shards around the edges of the windowpane. But beyond that was a beautiful fiery sun going down slowly. It was soothing to watch. Staring at the sunset eased my mind, made the next day’s decisions and possible scenarios drift from my mind. As I fell off into sleep, the usual thoughts of my mother and my family engulfed me, like a warm blanket. With everything going on, I thought I would have trouble sleeping, but the body has its way of taking over, falling unconscious when it has to—and sleep came easily.
In the darkest part of the night, I heard a commotion downstairs. Reality came back harshly as I heard buzzing sounds and the shuffling of rushing feet. Some people sleeping downstairs made startled noises, and I got up quickly. Martina bolted up.
“Get up, something’s going on,” Martina said.
Samuel and Andy rolled groggily, at first sleepily, but quickly enough when they realized the urgency of the situation. The sounds of a scuffle downstairs let us realize that danger was near. I heard familiar buzzing sounds. There was no gunfire heard.
Martina pointed to the back of the room. “Out the back!”
We all were heading out the back when the makeshift door to the bedroom exploded and the steady beam of a laser ray gun brightened the darkness of the room. For a second I felt comfort at the sight of 22nd century technology, a little bit of back home; but that flash of nostalgia quickly vanished as I realized the laser blast was a danger to us.
Martina and I were heading out the back door, which led to a winding staircase downstairs, to the backyard of the house. Andy and Samuel were slower to react, and they were behind us.
“Hurry,” I yelled as I could see three or four troops rushing through the hole they had just blasted in the bedroom door. They were fully equipped in soft, light, bulletproof commando gear. These were World Government elite troops.. Andy and Samuel were running towards the door, and the commando troops fired. Samuel was hit in the back. He fell to the ground. There was no grimace of pain.
“Mooove,” Andy yelled as he came down the stairs behind us.
Martina was in front, leaping down several stairs at a time, Andy and I following.
“Oh no!” Martina yelled. She slowed down.
The stairs were so steep that I was already falling over top of her. As I was tumbling over her I saw why she had stopped, there were more troops coming up the back way. Seeing them, instead of trying to stop my fall, I leapt towards them, over Martina’s shoulders. The fall was so steep that I was coming right down on top of them before their guns were lifted high enough to fire at us. I fell on top of the first one, and like a couple of dominoes we crashed into the one behind, sending us all tumbling down the remainder of the stairs. Being the last one down, I had the softest landing and was the least stunned.
Martina was soon down the stairs. From above us, white flashes of light rebounded throughout the stairwell. We made it to the backyard. There was an odd collection of furniture cluttering the yard, with the remnants of a roasted animal on a spit at the center of the yard. All around the yard was a six-foot rock wall. I groaned as we looked around.
“This way,” Martina led the charge.
She leapt over the furniture in her way and threw herself towards the wall. She rolled over top of the wall and flipped, landing off balance in the street. Andy and I did the same. The three of us were running in the street.
"ID cards," Martina yelled back to us.
"What?!" Andy said, but I realized what she meant. We knew we had government troops after us. We knew that our IDs could be tracked wherever we ran to.
"Pitch 'em" I said, pulling my ID out.
"No, not just anywhere," Martina said.
I looked back to see the back of a hovercraft idling in the front of the mansion. It turned and started coming in our direction. The commandos who came by the front of the house were in hot pursuit, and behind us, laser guns lit up the night sky.
“Over this way,” I heard one of them yell, probably trying to guide the hovercraft.
"We've got to be able to find them," Martina said, as we were now running side by side.
The first break between houses on the other side of the street, the three of us slid into it, trying to get lost in the night. The commandos were not that far behind. I heard the soft "poof" sound of a light bomb being shot. It lit up the night sky with a neon blue colour. The commandos fired it just in time to catch us heading down an alleyway.
"Here," Martina said, stopping momentarily and throwing her ID in a caved in section of one of the buildings. "We'll be able to find 'em here after."
Andy and I threw our IDs in the same crevice of a dilapidated building.
"I hope so," I said as we continued fleeing.
The alleyway was cluttered with garbage and, unfortunately for us, Earth animals disturbed in the night. These animals started making all kinds of loud, distressed noises. We cut down another alleyway. I tripped on some stones, ramming my knee to the ground.
"Awww," I cried.
Martina grabbed me by the hand and pulled me.
"Suck it up Jonz!"
Pain shot up my thigh, but there was no time to feel pain and I was up running again in seconds.
“Where now?" Andy said panting as we made it out to another street.
Looking down both ways, we saw no sign of hovercraft or pursuing commandos.
For a moment we were caught flat footed looking in all directions and not knowing where to go.
"We can't stay standing like morons," I said and pushed Andy and Martina to start running down the street.
We managed to put a little bit of distance between the commandos and ourselves. It was no time to slow down.
On all sides were row houses. We were a few streets down the hillside from Big Simon's mansion and there were many residences. One particular row house looked almost intact. It had a working door that was slightly ajar. The three of us barrelled through the door, into the startled home of a family. I could smell recent cooking, surely from the dinner of that night. It was a small, open dwelling. There were gasps from a couple and two or three children that were sleeping on worn mattresses bunched together at the back of the room.
“Ssshhh…” Andy said to them, and they obeyed; eyes open like big saucers. We slunk into the darkness beside the family. Martina, Andy, and I huddled together in the opposite corner to the family.
“Moommmy,” one of the small children cried, but was quickly stifled by her mother putting her hand over the child’s mouth.
Outside, the frantic shuffling of the commandos’ feet could be heard. One voice was heard barking orders. A moment later, the soft light and buzzing sound of the hovercraft could be heard passing by, and then silence fell.
Suddenly, I could feel my heart pounding, and hear the panicky breathing of everyone in the room. It was the sound of racing metabolisms trying to be stifled by their owners.
We sat.
We waited.
It felt like an eternity until I heard the crunching sounds of feet on tiny stones just outside our building; the sound of the door squeaking open, and one more person with panicky breathing. A flashlight panned over our heads. Everyone ducked, even the family beside us. I thought we were in the clear when the child started to cry. The flashlight shone in again, this time panning lower, across the innocent family, and landing squarely in my face, white light blinding me.
“In here!” a voice shouted.
I did not have my gun anymore, but there were stones all over the ground. I picked one up and launched it at the commando who had turned sideways to call his compatriots. It landed squarely on his chest. He made a loud gasp as he fell backwards. We rushed towards him and I landed on him first, picking him up and smashing his head on the ground. His laser gun shot over my shoulder and the light it emitted showed his grimace as his head hit the ground; his face relaxing as he lay there—out cold. I grabbed the gun from his hand as I could hear the sound of feet rushing towards me. Martina was standing beside me. She was the only one who grabbed a gun as we left the house. She chose this opportune moment to start firing at our adversaries. I aimed the laser gun also, and fired. The remaining commandos jumped sideways, out of the way of our fire. We turned and ran down the street. They followed at a distance. This time we managed to put some more distance between us.
“Let’s circle back,” Martina whispered to us.
“Why?” Andy said.
“Get them from behind,” she said.
We made a large circle around the house. This time a little less panicked, a little quieter. We came around from underneath the same street that we had originally escaped from the house. There was a low murmur and the faint light of the hovercraft idling over the houses in the next street. Its eerie glow looked out of place in this crude city. As we approached from behind, I could see a driver inside. The commandos on the ground were walking below it. They were all in the same area now.
“The backyard,” Martina whispered, as we came back to the side of Big Simon's mansion.
“The uniforms,” she said, and I understood.
“What?” Andy said.
We snuck unperceived around the back of the house. The hovercraft and commandos were looking for us the next block over. Martina, then I, then Andy, leapt over the same backyard stonewall we had escaped over moments before. There they were sleeping like babies, the unlucky two commandos who we jumped coming down the stairs. The two of them were slumped in the back doorway, like a couple of drunks.
“Looks about your size,” said Martina smiling, touching the uniform of one of the commandos.
Andy and I each put on the uniforms of the unconscious commandos. They also had soft helmets and night vision glasses, which made the perfect disguise; and of course, we took their ray guns.
“If we can get the hovercraft pilot’s attention, then maybe we can get him to come down and get us. Andy, you can fake an injured leg to get the pilot to drop down and pick you up. We’ll catch him by surprise, for sure.” I said.
“The trick will be to do this away from the other commandos. On the ground, they would be in a better position to see we're imposters,” Martina said.
We climbed on the wall and looked around. It was easy to spot the hovercraft patrolling above the houses on the next block.
“Let’s go,” I said, and the three of us were back over the wall again, heading across the street. As we passed through the alleyway, some of the Earth animals that were disturbed earlier were still whimpering. I could hear the owner trying desperately to quiet them. I guess there were plenty of people who heard the commotion, but were trying to stay quiet, and more importantly, stay out of the battle. This was not a society where you called the police when you heard a commotion in the middle of the night. You just clutched your loved ones and prayed the aggressors would go away.
As we made our way over to the next street, I peeked around one of the houses, very cautiously. The hovercraft was heading slowly up the street, right in our direction. On either side, commandos were looking into most of the houses, at least the houses that weren’t collapsed.
“The hovercraft is passing right by us, it’s a perfect opportunity; but there are commandos following beside on the ground. What the hell can we do?” I said.
Martina looked around the corner, seeing the situation. “Just get ready to get the pilot’s attention. I’m going to cause a distraction.”
“Wait,” I said.
She had run across the street, just before the hovercraft’s searchlight had reached where she was running. Moments later, from in back of the other side of the street, I heard gunfire; the loud blasting of a conventional gun. All the commandos rushed to that side of the street. The hovercraft shone its lights to the other side, but I had to get the pilot’s attention. I aimed my laser gun straight in the air, and fired. The light grabbed the pilot’s attention.
“Quick, lean on me like you're injured,” I said to Andy.
I waved to the pilot. He was coming down to street level. My heart was pounding as the wing door opened up. I checked the setting on my laser gun. It was on paralyze mode. The door opened and the pilot motioned to us in.
“Are you hurt?” he said.
“No, but you are,” I responded as I shot him right in the chest with my laser gun, paralyzing him. We threw his prone body out of the hovercraft.
“Have you ever flown one of these before?” Andy asked as I got behind the controls.
“Only in simulators,” I said as I closed the winged door and sped off towards Martina’s direction.
“Best I could hope for,” Andy moaned.
We got over the next row of houses to see the four commandos standing over Martina, unconscious in the street. They motioned to me to keep searching. One of them spoke into a tiny mouthpiece and his voice transmitted into the hovercraft.
“It’s not the target. We have to keep searching.”
The four commandos started down the street, systematically searching like before.
“We gotta get Martina,” Andy said.
“Just a second,” I said. “I’ll take care of it.”
Looking down at the armaments display, I set the hovercraft’s lasers for paralyze mode, and then random dispersal. I waited until all four commandos were in front of me and fired. Randomly dispersed laser attacks made frantic strobe lights as the four commandos dropped like stones.
“Okay, let’s get Martina,” I said.
I turned around. There she was in the street in front of us. I hovered right besides her, opening the doors. Andy leapt out and knelt beside her.
“She has a pulse,” he said.
“Get her into the craft, quickly!” I said.
Andy picked Martina up and brought her into the hovercraft.
"We gotta get our IDs," Andy said.
"Where exactly was that?"
"Hell, it was right after we bolted from Big Simon's place--the next alleyway over."
"That's right over here. There's the building--the crevice."
Andy got out and felt around in the crevice.
"Damn, it ain't that easy," he said before finding one ID and then the others.
He triumphantly displayed them as he climbed back into the hovercraft.
"Let's get the hell outa here Jonz!"
I took off straight up into the sky. I didn't want to hang around at street level and see what happened next. I felt relief as we rose in altitude, felt like one of the river birds soaring in freedom. Distance from the city was good, like chains lifted off the soul. I could only imagine the burden that life-long city dwellers