Darrin Drader's Post Apocalyptic Story Hour - Updated 09/10/2005

[Darrin Drader]

Well, I've been thinking of doing one of these for a while. The trouble has been deciding what to write. Frankly, I'm not that interested in writing down my gaming campaigns. Instead, I want to generate some genre fiction. Unlike some of the other story hours, I'm not going to set the stage, or tell you which products you need to play. You should be able to figure out, in a somewhat vague sense, what it is I'm doing. So with no further ado, my story begins with my next post.

 

[Darrin Drader]

Prelude

There is No Hope

***
Five Years Ago

The instructor droned away at the head of the class, but Alex paid no attention to him. Instead, his eyes were fixed upon the girl sitting next the next row over. Mali was her name, with sun-bleached brown hair, naturally tan skin, a charming smile, and alluring eyes. Alex quickly diverted his gaze when she turned and caught him staring, but in a rare display of courage, he shifted his eyes back to hers and held her gaze for a few seconds. Mali smiled, then redirected her attention back to the front of the class.

“As we have been talking about this week,” said the teacher, “the Lord Mayor provides for the township by separating those who are inclined to fight from those who are more useful in other areas. Alex, since you seem so preoccupied, what are the other areas that you should strive to excel in, in order to keep you from the manning the outpost?”

Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had been paying attention in class the previous couple of days. He glanced at Mali again, who was eyeing him along with the rest of the class. “Agriculture and manufacturing?” he sheepishly replied.

“And?” inquired the teacher.

“And…” Alex paused. “I’m sorry sir, but I don’t remember.”

The teacher was a harsh but lithe man in his early forties. His black hair was shot with gray, and a patch of scales that ran from his forehead and down the right side of his face betrayed his mutant heritage. “You don’t remember? This is may be the only thing that may keep you from the fight, and you place so little importance on it? Young man, you should know well that the third item is reading.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Alex said, his face flushed red with embarrassment.

“And well you should be,” lectured the teacher. “Reading! It’s the one thing that everyone in my class needs to learn. There are ancient text sitting in the library that are of absolutely no use to anybody because so few people are able to go through them and separate the useful from the useless. It is the one thing that everyone here should be able to learn from my class. You must focus your efforts.”

“I’m sorry,” said Alex awkwardly. He noticed that Mali turned away then, apparently less interested than before.

***

“Alex” said Scoth, as he came running up from behind as he walked away from the schoolhouse.


Alex turned to face his best friend. Scoth had fair skin, freckles, and black hair. Like Alex, he was also one of the few people free of mutations. “Yeah, what is it?”

The athletic boy caught up with him quickly. “You know you’re wasting the only chance you have at a peaceful life, don’t you?”

Alex shrugged.

“I know how you feel about her, and if she’s half that much of a looker in two years, she’ll surely go with the Lord Mayor, just like the others,” said Scoth.

“Yeah, I know,” Alex replied. He looked up the hill to the brilliant white house which stood majestically above the rest of the city. “The Lord Mayor,” Alex muttered as he hocked up a piece of phlegm from his throat and spat it into the dirt. “What a bastard.”

“It could be worse,” said Scoth. “He could have conscripted everyone young enough to fight and sent us all off.”

“Yeah, but then who would work the fields, make the guns, and read the texts?” Alex asked. “The Lord Mayor is in his position only because he realized that our crops aren’t tainted anymore and that he can get wealthy by selling them throughout the wastelands.”

Scoth shrugged. “It still beats the guarantee of a quick death at the outpost.”

As they rounded a corner, they noticed Maggie working in her yard. She was a woman twice their ago, who kept her face concealed with a scarf. Rumor was that she had been attractive once, and sought after by the menfolk in town. Her face now bore deep scars, which were said to have been self inflicted, the price of saving herself from the Lord Mayor’s favor.

Scoth leaned towards Alex and whispered, “See what I mean? You’d best forget about her, before she decides to do something like that for you.”

***

Alex arrived home, slamming the door shut behind him. The house rattled as he ran into the living room and plopped down on the threadbare couch. His mind raced. There had to be a way to save Mali from the fate that was in store for her. There had to be a way that he could show her how much he loved her and take her away from all of this. Several scenarios played through his mind. He could kill the Lord Mayor, which would likely only see him killed and the Lord Mayor replaced by one of his lieutenants. He could take Mali and run away, but where would they flee to? There was nowhere to go that wasn’t hostile or under the control of the Lord Mayor.


There was his grandfather’s journal. He hadn’t looked at it in years. In fact, his father had specifically instructed not to touch it. Maybe there were secrets there that could help his plight.

Alex climbed to his feet, pulled a wooden chair that had been repaired several times in his fifteen years of life, and lifted it up. He walked to the closet door, which opened with a creak, then he set it down and climbed atop it.

“Alex, what are you doing in there?” his father called from the other side of the house.

“Nothin’, Pa.”

“It don’t sound like nothing.”

His father was unlikely to get out of bed to check on him. Alex reached up to the shelf above and grasped the dog-eared journal. It was a thick book, probably three hundred pages. Within, all but the last few pages had been filled with words, each letter flawlessly written. Alex looked at the front page and had no problems reading the words “Normand Brousard.” Beneath that were the following words, “My obser…” Alex was having a hard time sounding out the next word. “Obser..va…shion” he mouthed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His father said from across the room.

“I… I thought…” Alex stammered.

Alex could see the vein pulsing on the side of his father’s face. He could tell that he was angry. “I told you never to touch that book.”

“But Pa, I can read some words now. I can try to make some sense out of it.”

“What do you hope to find?” his father yelled. “You think that you can take one look at it and figure out what your mother could not?”

He had invoked his mother. Alex could tell that this would be a painful lesson. “I was just hoping…”

“And that’s your problem. You allow yourself to hope. You’re just damn lucky that you came out normal.” His father pulled his shirt off, revealing the chunk missing from his shoulder from the wound he had suffered from mortar fragments at the outpost so many years ago. He twisted around, with his left arm, pulled at the wrappings, and revealed his hideous third arm he kept hidden behind his back. Alex also noticed a new rosy patch of lumps that had appeared on his father’s stomach. Once freed, he could see the disproportionately long arm that ended in a clawed hand. “You’re lucky that your mother gave me the time of day after she found out what I was, and you’re lucky that you took after her.”

Alex swallowed. He remembered his sister, who had been born when he was five. She hadn’t lived long. Born with nothing more than a smooth surface where her face should have been, she died of starvation within days. “I’m sorry. I was just hoping that we could learn grandpa’s secrets.”

“There are no secrets,” said his father, yelling now. “You think there is something to hope for in there? You’re a fool. A damn fool who just needs to learn how to shoot a rifle and get out there and fight. There is no hope. Not for you, and not for this cinder of a world”

“I wanted to find a way to save Mali from the Lord Mayor,” Alex blurted.

“You’re an even bigger fool than I thought,” his father bellowed. “The Lord Mayor is the only thing saving us from those barbarians.”

His father approached menacingly as Alex realized that he was still standing on the chair. With one hand, his father ripped the journal from his hand and threw it across the room. With the other two hands, his father pushed him onto the floor. “When will you learn your place?” his father cried as he beat Alex savagely with his three fists.

“I’m sorry,” Alex cried. He was fifteen years old, but he still felt as though he was a disobedient child in his father’s presence.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be sorry this time,” said his father as he stood up, looming above his cowering son. His foot came swiftly forward and connected with Alex’s skull. There was a brief moment of pain, and he thought he could hear his mother sobbing. “Impossible,” was the last thought that ran through his mind before darkness enveloped him.

 

[(contact)]

I want to be the Lord Mayor when I grow up.

 

[Darrin Drader]

Chapter 1
The Outpost

Today

Lieutenant Stone ran a hand over the stubble of the shaved patches of his head. His mohawk was growing out and it had been days since he had shaved the rest of it down. The sun beat down mercilessly upon him and dust blew all around, coating his throat in a viscous combination of mud and phlegm. He stood at his post, atop the embattled structure known only as the outpost.

Two stories tall and constructed of concrete and steel, the outpost once served a similar purpose before the great war, before the fires had ravaged the world and changed all that that had stood before. It was built at the widest point in a narrow valley; the only passable route between the Allied Townships and what was commonly referred to as the Wildlands. The lands outside the valley were still highly contaminated with radiation, making them impassable, even to the most resistant creatures.

The Wildlands were a collection of settlements and nomadic tribes that had banded together for mutual protection. There had once been peace between the Wildlands and the Allied Townships, but that was before the mutant lord Dragus came to power. Bent on conquest, the warlord sought out other mutants, gave them a purpose, and began his campaign to conquer the surrounding regions. Under his iron fist, mutants were given preferential treatment, while the pure humans were enslaved or used for their sadistic amusement.

Three lines of razorwire fences surrounded the outpost. Towers stood at every corner of the facility, rising twenty feet above the structure below. Each was equipped with mounted machine guns and a small cache of personal firearms. This was their primary defense against their persistent enemies, but to those who served here, it also felt like a prison.

“So, do you think we’ll see an attack today?” asked the new recruit. He couldn’t have been any older than sixteen years old. He still had a full head of blond hair, signifying that he had not yet made his first kill. When he did get a confirmed kill, the captain would bestow upon him a new hair cut as well as his warrior’s name.

Stone just scowled at him. “Hell, if I could predict that, do you think I would just be a lieutenant? If I knew the movements of the enemy, I’d be running this place. Maybe we wouldn’t even have to deal with the barbarian scum at all.”

“I was just wondering. I’ve been out here for ten days, and still haven’t seen any action,” said the rookie.

“So you said. What was your name again?” asked Stone, who decided to oblige the kid in conversation in order to kill some time.

“Lance. Lance Burton. I’m from Delville. You?”

“Stone.” He replied.

“The captain gave you that name?”

Stone nodded.

“What’s it mean?”

“Stone cold killer,” said Stone emotionlessly. “My first day out, my group and I walked into an ambush. There were five of us there, and three fell to mutie sharpshooters within the first few seconds. I spotted four of them a couple hundred feet away, up above, on the valley walls. I found a boulder to hide behind, and returned fire, taking them out one by one. I dragged my buddies back in so that the docs could try to work on them, but only one survived.”

“What about the other guy who wasn’t hit?” Lance asked.

Stone laughed. “He was a rookie, just like I was. He found a ditch and took cover. I found him in a puddle of his own piss. He was by my side a week later when he took a bullet to the head. Didn’t even see it coming.”

Lance’s jaw dropped. “So you’re the only one from your company who’s still around?”

Stone laughed again. “Kid, I’m one of the only people from the entire outpost back then who’s still around.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Three years.” Stone replied.

“I don’t understand. You’ve served your time. You can go back now. Why are you still here?”

“Live long enough, and you might just come to understand it one day. Just take my advice on one thing. If you do live long enough to understand it, don’t do like I’ve done. Go home.”

The pair settled into an uneasy silence as they surveyed the parched landscape for any sign of movement. Stone knew from experience that it wasn’t a question of if there would be an attack, but when the attack would happen. Sometimes their defenses would be probed on a daily basis, while other times months would go by without any sign of the enemy. During those down times, it was common for them to send their own troops into the enemy’s territory to probe their defenses.

The one thing that was becoming obvious was that their enemy was beginning to show signs of weakness. Initially, they had once been attacked by machine guns, mortars, and missiles. Recently their weapons had dropped down to compound bows and even clubs. Despite this, the attacks kept coming. The Allied Townships were faring little better on supplies, however. When he had first arrived, everyone was outfitted with a machine gun and bulletproof leather armor. Now some of the new recruits were coming in with handguns, or no armor at all. Weapons and armor would often be salvaged from the dead, or those who were allowed to leave for home. Both sides were growing weaker. For the Allied Townships, production simply couldn’t keep up with the demand. Each gun was hand crafted, which took time. For the barbarians of the Wildlands, many suspected that they were using, and depleting, a pre-war weapons cache.

***

The attack came four hours into their watch. The whistle of incoming mortar rounds shook them from their complacency. Still, there was too much dust in the air this day to tell where the enemy was located. The first round of mortar shells exploded amidst the fences, opening up a twenty-foot wide hole in front of the compound. This was a bold move.
“Look sharp. They’re going to start rushing the front. Train your gun on the hole and don’t stop shooting until you see our guys meet them there,” said Stone.

Lance and Stone manned their guns and watched for approaching figures. Stone was concerned. The blowing dust gave their enemy more of an advantage than he was comfortable with. They could get much closer than usual, which could allow them to damage portions of the Outpost itself. He saw shadowy figures from the edge of his visual range approach the hole in the fence, and Stone started shooting. Lance soon joined him. Within seconds, all four guard towers had opened up fire on the point where the fence had been breached. Their enemies were little more than shadows from their vantage point, so it was difficult to tell whether or not they were actually hitting anyone. The one thing they could tell was that none of their enemies had penetrated the hole.

Stone heard the whistle of more incoming mortars. These ones sounded closer than the last time. He felt the concussion as a shell slammed into his tower roughly ten feet below. The tower shook and he heard the sound of concrete crumbling beneath him.

“Is it going to hold?” Lance asked as the smoke began to clear.

Stone kept shooting. “I can’t answer that,” Stone replied. “Trust the building to protect you while you protect it.”

They could hear the sound of return fire, and a moment later, one of the other towers stopped shooting. “This is bad,” Stone thought to himself. “This could be the largest offensive they’ve launched in over a year.”

They heard the whistle of another mortar shell, and the tower was struck again. Both men kept firing at their enemy, but this time they heard the sound of bricks collapsing. Their field of view tilted, as the tower leaned forward and them fell to the ground. “Hold onto your gun!” Stone shouted. The younger soldier did as he as instructed, and a moment later felt a powerful jolt as they hit the ground.

The air was filled with smoke and the dust from obliterated concrete. “You alright?” Stone asked.

“Yeah, my left arm is bleeding, but I don’t think it’s broke,” said Lance.

“Great. Grab whatever weapons you can find, and lets join the fight.”

The contents of the guard tower were scattered over a twenty foot area, but it took little time to gather up a couple of working machine guns. Stone noted that Lance’s arm was bleeding heavily. Hopefully he could do some damage before passing out from the blood loss.

As they moved forward, the battle on the ground was well underway. Soldiers from the Allied Township had swarmed out of the building and were meeting the mutant enemy on the ground. The mass of men and mutants were broken up into small pockets of conflict. Some of the enemies were armed with clubs while others were firing rifles. Troops from both sides were rapidly falling. Stone looked back at Lance and shouted, “Follow me! Take out any enemies you see wielding guns. Only shoot the others if they get too close.”

The pair made their way through the throng of combatants. Lance caught sight of what looked like a man, covered from head to toe in green scales. It was holding a machine gun, and was about to fire at a soldier from the Allied Townships. Lance let loose a burst, and the mutant creature fell to the ground in a pool of green ichor. “I got one!” he shouted triumphantly.

“Good job,” said Stone as he fired into a group of three club-wielding attackers. The enemies fell to the ground, and Stone ran forward.

Stone heard the whistle of flying bullets. He looked ahead and saw a man with four eyes firing a rifle in their direction. Stone let loose a burst and dropped that mutant. He then looked back at Lance. The boy was staring sightlessly, a bullet hole between his eyes, his brains emptied onto the ground behind him.

Another fellow warrior dead. “Tough break,” Stone grimaced, then charged ahead into the enemy, wondering if today would see the end of his years long streak of luck. He allowed his body to give in to his training, transforming him into the thoughtless killing machine. In the back of his mind, he repeated the name of a girl he once loved, and held it as his source of inspiration, his mantra. Mali.

 

[Henry]

Damn, Alex, you got tough.

Keep writing. More. NOW!

 

[Darrin Drader]

Chapter 2
Coming Home

Today

It had been four long years since Scoth had seen Alex. As the armed warrior escorted him through the gates in the razor-wire fences towards the Outpost, he wasn’t sure what to expect from his friend. In truth, he didn’t even want to be this far away from home, but he had an unpleasant duty to perform, and he wasn’t going to let his fear of war stop him from it.

The outpost looked as though it had sustained heavy damage recently. The ground beneath the front facing fences was pockmarked and the razor-wire there was silver rather than rust colored. One of the guard towers had obviously been destroyed, and there were workers laying new concrete blocks to repair it. “Was there an attack recently?”

“Yep, they hit us pretty hard about a week ago,” the guard replied. The man stood six inches taller than Scoth, with ebony skin, and appeared to be chiseled from solid muscle. Unlike most of the warriors, this man’s head was shaved bald. “The muties punched a hole in our perimeter and flooded in. They took out a guard tower, and killed twenty-five of our men. They showed up in superior numbers, but we’re better equipped and better trained.”

Scoth shook his head sadly, “There’s no reason for this conflict to have gone on so long. It’s a shame.”

The guard nodded, “Yeah it is, but we weren’t the ones who started it, and we’re not the ones keepin’ it going. I think they’ll keep comin’ until we’ve killed every last one of them”

They passed through the inner perimeter, and walked another two hundred feet to the door of the building. The guard approached the door, but stopped at a keypad. He punched in a series of numbers, and then they heard a click as the inside door unlocked.

“I didn’t realize this place had electricity,” Scoth commented.

“Yeah, we run the lights and the security system from a generator in the basement,” the guard commented. “The gas ran out a few years ago, so they brought in some engineers and switched it around to run off alcohol.”

Scoth smiled. “So that’s why the price of hundred proof has gone up so much recently. I just assumed we were making less.”

The first thing he noticed as they entered the building was the oppressive darkness of the place. Low wattage bulbs that were plugged into white circular fixtures in the ceiling dimly illuminated the hallway. The walls were constructed from unpainted gray concrete. As they walked, Scoth occasionally spotted cracks in the floor or the ceiling. This was clearly a somber place where courageous men came to lay down their lives.

The pair walked the length of the corridor, down an adjacent corridor, and finally through a set of double doors. On the other side was a room filled with beds, many of them occupied by bandaged soldiers. Scoth noticed that a few of them were missing appendages. More than one was asleep with fluids being pumped into them.

The guard led Scoth to a bed near the far corner, where he saw his unconscious friend. He was battered and barely recognizable as the kid he grew up with, but it was definitely Alex.

“Alex?” Scoth said. A moment later, the eyes fluttered open.

“Stone now,” said Stone with a smile. “Well, ain’t this amazing. I haven’t seen you in years. Tell me you didn’t come all this way just to check on me.”

“What happened?” Scoth asked.

Stone shrugged. “We were attacked, I got into it with a couple of muties. One had a gun and shot me in the chest with an armor piercing bullet.”

“How bad was it?” Scoth asked.

“The docs said it was touch and go for a while. The bullet busted two of my ribs, just missed my heart, collapsed one of my lungs, and narrowly missed my spinal cord on the way out. I managed to kill the muties, but I ended up laying in a pool of my own blood for an hour before they found me. So is that why you’re here?” Stone asked.

“No.” said Scoth. “I wish that were the case, but I have news I have to deliver from home.”

“Yeah,” said Stone. “Spill it.”

“Your father. He died three days ago. The Lord Mayor sent me to fetch you for the funeral.”

Stone looked at his friend emotionlessly. “Well that was damn decent of him. So how did the old man go?”

“Cancer,” Scoth said.

This came as no surprise to Stone, given the fact that his father had been suffering a slow, creeping death from the disease for the past ten years. “Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“You don’t seem too upset,” Scoth commented.

“Me and the old man didn’t get along too well,” said Stone.

“Well, he gave me a message to give to you before he died.”

“Did he now. I didn’t realize the old man cared.”

Scoth swallowed hard. “He said that the journal is yours now. He also said that he wished for you to find the hope you’ve been looking for within.”

For a moment, a surge of grief welled up within Stone, but he quickly suppressed it. “So that’s it then. I’m supposed to just walk out of here now.”

“Are you well enough to travel?” Scoth asked.

“I think so,” Stone commented. “Hell, I’ve been milking this injury for as long as I can stand it just to get a little rest.” He tried to stand up, but a wave of nausea overcame him, causing him to sit back down. “Okay, the going might be a little slow.”

“Its alright. I’ll let you ride the horse if you’d like,” said Scoth.

“So tell me how things have been,” Stone said.

“Things haven’t changed much. We’re still working the fields and making guns. The Lord Mayor is still a bastard, and the school is still deciding which graduates are smart and which ones get sent here to die,” Scoth said.

“Yeah, well some of us got to decide for ourselves,” Stone commented.

“You were instructor Kelley’s greatest disappointment. He signed off on you to be a reader. You could have worked alongside me, gotten paid well, and done well for yourself. There’s more than a few people around town who think that you wasted your potential by choosing to fight.”

Stone narrowed his eyes menacingly at his friend. “I had my reasons for coming here, and I have my reasons for staying. If it weren’t for me and people like me, you guys would all be dead, or worse, enslaved by the muties.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean you any disrespect. You have my gratitude as well as the gratitude of everyone back home,” Scoth said quickly.

“So how’s Mali been?” Stone asked.

Scoth shook his head. “I would have thought that after three years, you’d be over her by now.”

“How is she?” Stone insisted.

“You really don’t want to know.” Scoth stated.

“Still in the Lord Mayor’s harem, isn’t she?” Stone asked with contempt.

Scoth nodded. “She’s one of his favorites. Now do yourself a favor and stop thinking about her.”

“Right.” Said Stone. It would never happen. Even if he couldn’t be with her, he could at least protect her from a distance.

***

It took two hours for Stone to gather up his belongings and check out with the captain. He intended to slip out of the outpost quietly so that the other soldiers wouldn’t get the chance to detect the shame he felt for deserting them. As he walked out of the building, he saw a line of soldiers, their guns held aloft, forming a corridor of leather clad bodies between the door of the outpost and the inner gate. The captain, an older man with a chiseled face and blond hair that was shaved on the sides and cut short on the top met him at the door. “Lieutenant,” he said saluting.

Stone returned the salute. “Why all of this?” Stone asked. “You know I’m coming back, don’t you?”

The captain smiled. “Take your time. You’ve done your duty here and we can get along just fine without you for a while. Come back if you need to, or get back to your life if that’s what you want. The important thing is that you served with dignity and honor.”

“There’s nothing for me to go back to. It won’t be long, but I’ll consider it for a few days if you’d like,” Stone promised.

“Suit yourself,” said the captain. “Dismissed.”

As Stone and Scoth walked towards the gate, he locked eyes with every man he passed along the way. He knew all of their names and had fought beside most. They brought their hands up to salute him as he passed, and he returned each salute as they continued away from the outpost. When he reached the first gate, Stone turned back to them and shouted, “You are all my brothers, and it has been an honor fighting alongside each of you!” He knew that some of them would be dead by the time he returned.

The soldier at the end opened the gate as the two childhood friends walked through. They passed through two more gates, and a soldier holding the reigns of Scoth’s horse met them.

“You’re the one who’s all shot up. You can ride,” Scoth said.

“And you’re the pretty boy who reads books all day, so I think it would be best if you ride,” Stone countered. “You probably can’t even jog a mile without stopping.”

Scoth gave his friend a wounded look. “Then I guess neither of us will ride. We’ll both just walk back. How does that sound?”

Stone agreed. Half a mile later, the pain from his wounds became unbearable, and he grudgingly climbed into the saddle.

***

The service for Stone’s father was short and solemn. The day was bright and sunny and the service was held outside the Honee temple. When he looked in the casket, Stone noted that his father’s extra appendage was hidden from view, likely strapped to his back, as he normally wore it when alive. Stone noted that his father’s hair was grayer than he remembered and he appeared to have gained some weight, but otherwise his appearance wasn’t much different than the last time he had seen him.

The service lasted no longer than a half an hour. During that time the Mystic burned incense that were said to help speed his father’s way to the spirit world. The Lord Mayor attended and made a brief speech honoring the service his father had provided for the township, and then two former soldiers who had served with his father made short speeches, recounting the tales of his heroics. Stone knew that his father had served only six months at the Outpost, and then spent the rest of his life taking handouts from the community because of his injury. Overall, he concluded, a rather uninspiring career from an uninspiring man.

Unmoved by the service, Stone returned alone to the house he grew up, where he would spend the next two days unlocking the secrets buried in his grandfather’s journal.

 

[Darrin Drader]

Chapter 3
Dance With The Devil

Today

Stone clutched his grandfather’s journal in his left hand as he briskly walked the brick pathway up the hill towards the Lord Mayor’s manor. Personal feelings aside, they had something of value to offer one another. The fact that he was already considered a loyal soldier would only improve his chances of success. The pathway ended at the foot of a short set of stairs which led to the an enormous deck that was attached to the house. Although the décor was meant to remind visitors of pastoral scenes from pre-fall times, the illusion was shattered by the presence of the Lord Mayor’s elite armed guards. Two leather-clad men were visible, likely ready to draw their weapons at the first sign of trouble. Stone suspected that there were at least four more observing his approach from unseen posts.

The Lord Mayor’s personal guards were ex-warriors with roughly the same amount of combat experience as him. Each of them had survived anywhere from two to four years at the outpost; something that was only accomplished by individuals who possessed superior combat senses and incredible luck. Stone had served with several of the men who were now in the service of the Lord mayor, and he could likely become one himself if he so chose. As he reached the end of the pathway, he stopped short.

“Whoa soldier,” said one of the guards on the deck. “What are you doing here?”

Stone lifted his grandfather’s journal above his head. “I have some information that would be incredibly valuable to the Lord mayor.”

“Well done,” said the guard. “Give it to me and I’ll give it to him.”

Stone shook his head. “No. I want to speak with him myself.”

The guard laughed. “You look familiar. Didn’t you grow up here? You should know that you can’t just demand an audience with the Lord Mayor.”

“Nevertheless,” said Stone, “He will be interested in the information contained in this journal, but I’m not about to hand it over without speaking to him first.”

“Sorry, those are the rules,” said the guard.

Stone smiled. “Rules are meant to be broken. What do you think the Lord Mayor will do to the grunt who kept this information from him because he was too bent on some stupid protocol... I wouldn't like to be that grunt, that's for sure....”

The guards looked at each other. “I’ll go talk to him,” said the other guard, who promptly disappeared through the door. Stone stared down the guard he had been speaking with. He knew that the guard respected him, but also expected him to acquiesce to his rank. Stone had no intention of giving him that satisfaction. He would only offer respect if an equal amount was first given to him.

The guard who had disappeared into the manor returned a couple minutes later. “The Lord Mayor has instructed that you be shown to the dining room.”

“Interesting," the other guard spat. "Just remember to mind your manners,”

“Of course,” Stone said, flashing the man an overly broad grin. The guard scowled as they passed through the doorway.
From the moment they entered, it was obvious by the interior that the manor belonged to someone with wealth. The room was lit by a chandelier, which was suspended roughly twenty feet overhead. An elegant curving staircase rose from the right side of the room to a balcony overlooking the common room. Two attractive women, both dressed in frilly gowns, casually observed Stone as he entered. One whispered to the other, and they both giggled. Stone followed the guards straight ahead and into a long corridor that ended in a double door.

The guards opened the door to reveal a long polished cherry wood dining table surrounded by high-backed chairs. At the far end sat the Lord Mayor. He was a man with gray-shot black hair that framed a stern face. Despite the finery of this house, he wore military garb, which consisted of steel plated armor, black pants with bulletproof plates sewn in, and boots. Stone had seen the Lord Mayor before, and he was always impressed by the incredible sense of confidence this man exuded. Despite the fact that he had taken many of the town’s women into his harem, many of the town’s residents admired, trusted, and even loved this man. Regardless, Stone would kill him in a heartbeat if the right opportunity presented itself.

“Welcome,” said the Lord Mayor with a smile. “Please take a seat. Dinner will be served shortly. You are welcome to stay and eat.”

“Thank you,” Stone replied.

“I recognize you as the soldier who returned home after the death of his father. A pity. You have my condolences.”

“I appreciate that,” said Stone. “I would like to thank you for attending the funeral.”

“He served as a soldier in my army, so it was the least I could do. I also understand that you have spent three years at the Outpost yourself. Your sense of duty and your ability to survive are admirable,” said the Lord Mayor.

Two women dressed similarly to the ones Stone had previously seen on the balcony entered the room and deposited succulent steak dishes in front of the two men seated at the table. Stone inhaled the aroma, then grabbed his fork and knife and began cutting into the piece of meat.

“I appreciate your hospitality,” said Stone as he savored a bite. The meat was pink in the middle, and quite juicy.

“It’s the least I could do, but I am curious as to the matter that has brought you here,” said the Lord Mayor.

Stone forced himself to swallow quickly so he could begin to present his find. “My grandfather, as I’m sure you well know, was a bit of a historian. He researched a number of pre-war matters and even wrote a couple of books that are in the library today. He left my father his old journal. I never looked at it when I was younger. My father forbade me to, but I inherited it with my father’s death.”

The Lord Mayor nodded as he applied a dark sauce to his steak. “Would you like some?” he asked.

Stone shook his head. “I prefer the natural taste of beef.” He continued on, “So I’ve been looking this over, and within is something that could quickly win our conflict against the mutie barbarians.”

The Lord Mayor raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“Within this book are maps that reveal the location of a hidden military base. According to my grandfather’s research, before the great war, it was the site of an advanced weaponry research and development site.”

“Interesting. Tell me more.”

“The journal goes into great detail about the specifics of the base. Apparently it was originally staffed by scientists, but it was guarded by automatons. More than likely they’re still there, though they’re probably malfunctioning by now. He has security codes that should open up the doors and other codes that will allow a person to be recognized as friendly by the guardian machines. He spent years of his life tracking down all of this information and accumulating it here.”

“I can see how there could be a value here,” conceded the Lord Mayor. “I know that our current level of technology is probably that of society a hundred years before the great war. Something like this could potentially outfit our forces with the firepower and protection they need to finally turn the tide against the mutants.”

“There is a catch,” Stone said. “This facility lies deep in the heart of enemy territory.”

“And how do we know that our enemy hasn’t found it already?”

“Because our enemy is resorting to more and more primitive weapons. They once carried rifles, but now many of the carry bows and arrows. Some fight with clubs in man-to-man combat. If the enemy had found this base, they would use this technology against us.”

“And how do we know that this place still exists?”

Stone sighed. “We don’t. But it’s a risk I feel we need to take.”

“I see,” said the Lord Mayor between bites. “So you have come to me to see if I am willing to commit forces to help you unearth this veritable treasure trove?”

“Yes. I am willing to go, but I’ll need some help.”

“An interesting dilemma. Do I commit some of my men for the chance to acquire the technology that we need, or do I preserve my forces, given the fact that they are already stretched thin?” the Lord Mayor commented. “What do you think you’ll need to complete your mission?”

“I feel that a small force will stand a much better chance of moving into the Wildlands undetected. I think no more than five people will be necessary. Among them, I will need an engineer. The other four should be the best warriors you can spare.”

“A tall order,” the Lord Mayor commented. “I shall have to consider this. Of course I also want to study at the journal tonight, if you don’t mind.”

“With all due respect,” said Stone, “the book stays with me.”

“Then you shall be my guest tonight, and tomorrow you will have the journal back, along with my answer… if that is acceptable.”

Stone said nothing for a long moment. If he expected the Lord Mayor to trust him, he would also need to display some level of trust as well. “Very well,” he grudgingly agreed.

“I understand that this is a family heirloom, and it will be treated with due respect,” the Lord Mayor assured him. The Lord Mayor stood up, walked to Stone’s side of the table, and grabbed the journal. “As soon as you are done eating, you will be shown to the room you will stay in tonight.”

“Thank you,” Stone said.

The Lord Mayor then walked out of the dining room, and Stone continued to nervously eat.

***

The room Stone was shown to was on the opposite side of the manor from the Lord Mayor’s bedroom. It was dark, due to the oak paneling in the room. A pair of oil lamps illuminated the room, the most comfortable bed Stone had ever felt lay along the wall. There was little to do, and his battle wounds still hurt, so he lay down, closed his eyes, and promptly fell asleep.
He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but his rest was interrupted by a light knock at the door. “Come on in,” Stone said.

He watched the doorknob slowly turn, and the door opened just wide enough for a petite figure wearing a revealing evening gown to slip in. In an instant he recognized the woman who stood before him.

“Hello Alexander. It’s been a long time.”

“Mali,” he breathed.

 

[Darrin Drader]

Chapter 4
Games of Affection

Four Years Ago

Alex took a drink from the bottle, felt the burn go down his throat and into his stomach, then passed it to Scoth. Gerol, Sandy, and Ben sat in a circle on the floor of the living room of one of the numerous empty houses that was still in reasonably good condition, getting intoxicated as quickly as possible. Summer was here, and the heat was sweltering on this night. Thankfully, a light breeze blew through the broken windows of the house, bringing a small amount of relief from the heat.

Scoth took the bottle, then proceeded to swallow a couple of times. He made an unpleasant face and his eyes watered, but a moment later he held up a hand to indicate that he was fine, and took another swig. “Top that,” he said as he handed the bottle to Sandy.

The bottle was passed from one youth to another as they all took turns indulging in the liquor, which had been stolen from Gerol’s father. They weren’t too concerned about this since the old man was drunk so often that he would probably assume that he consumed it himself.

Sandy was the only girl in the group, though she could hold her liquor better than any one of them. “So,” she said coyly after everyone began feeling their alcohol, “I bet you guys have never kissed a girl.”

“What, are you offering?” Scoth asked with a wide grin.

Sandy shrugged. “I bet you don’t even know who you want to kiss, do you?”

An awkward age, it seemed wrong to talk about who they were interested in, but at the same time, equally wrong not to admit that they liked girls. Silence ensued.

“Well there has to be someone,” she insisted.

“Michele,” said Scoth quickly.

“Oh?” said Sandy, running her fingers through her dishwater blond hair. “What does Michele have that I don’t?”
Scoth cleared his throat and paused for a long moment. “Nothing….” He said awkwardly. “That is nothing against you. I wrote some poetry a while back and I showed it to her. She said she liked it, and then winked. I don’t know, there was something there in that moment that was really…”

“Nice?” said Sandy.

“Sure, we’ll call it nice,” said Scoth, although he was thinking of more specifically of extreme nervousness, coupled with an intense feeling of desire.

“Okay, how about you, Gerol?” Sandy asked.

Gerol, an overweight kid with a crew cut smirked. “Sandy, you know I love you. I always have, but for some reason you keep turning me away.”

Sandy smiled, “Gerol, you know that I’m out of your league. Maybe you should consider someone more attainable, like Angel.”
Gerol made a face. “That hurts, you know.”

“What about you, Ben?” Sandy asked.

Ben, a large framed boy with red hair grabbed his chin with his right hand and thought for a moment. “Does there have to be only one person? I mean there are plenty of girls that I’d like to kiss. At least plenty of ones who were, you know, born normal.”
“So name one,” Sandy said.

“I don’t know, it’s hard to narrow it down to just one. Besides, who’s to say that I haven’t already kissed a bunch of girls?”
“Sounds like you’re stalling,” Sandy said.

“Well, assuming that there is one in particular, how do I know that you won’t go tell her?”
“You don’t,” said Sandy, “but isn’t that part of the fun?”

Ben snorted. “Not really.”

“What do you have to lose?”

“She might not like me. So if you go and tell her, the whole thing’s over.””

“What thing?” Sandy asked. “She finds out, she tells you to take a hike, and you can go on to other people. It’s simple.”
“Ben’s just afraid of having his heart trampled,” said Gerol. “Poor guy, can’t say that I blame him, cruel woman.”

Sandy laughed, quickly grabbed Gerol’s head in her two hands, and planted a kiss on his lips. Gerol held her there, enjoying the moment as his mind worked furiously to keep up with what was happening, and released her. “See, maybe instead, something like that will happen,” Sandy said, as though she had gone through this display for Ben’s benefit alone.

With an illogical glimmer of hope, Ben said, “Kathy.”

“As in my friend Kathy?” Sandy asked. “My best friend Kathy? Oh, wait until she hears about this!”

“No, don’t tell!” Ben said.

“And what about you, Alex, you haven’t said a thing for a while.”

Alex shrugged.

“Come on, we know there’s someone you want,” said Sandy.

“No, really. I’m dedicated to my studies, so I don’t have time for girls,” Alex said.

“So you’re really saying you like boys?” Sandy smirked.

Alex cringed. “No, not my thing.”

“Then there has to be a girl you want to kiss,” insisted Sandy.

Alex shot Scoth a quick glance, which did not go unnoticed, but remained silent.

“Come on, you need a few more drinks,” Sandy said. She handed Alex the bottle, and he quickly consumed two more large mouthfuls. “So tell us,” she said.

As the alcohol washed down Alex’s throat, he felt light-headed for a moment. “Sorry, nothing to tell.”

“Scoth, you know something don’t you?” Sandy said.

“Me?” Scoth laughed. “You think he says anything meaningful to me? I think his old man kicked him in the head a few too many times.”

Alex wanted to blurt out how he felt, but this was not the time. At least, he didn’t think this was the time. His head was getting swimmy. Well, what would it hurt? “Alright,” he said slurring his words. “Okay, there is someone,” he said. “But you have to promise you won’t tell her,” Alex said.

Sandy smiled. “Promise. Who is she?”

Alex took another drink. “Mali,” he said.

“So what is it about her?” Sandy asked.

Alex shook his head. “It’s hard to explain. Her smile, her eyes, her laugh, the way she smells. She’s… perfect. Absolutely perfect. When I’m around her, she makes me feel like… I don’t know. I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”

“Sounds to me like you need to let her know how you feel,” Sandy said.

“No,” Alex stated.

“How do you know she doesn’t feel the same way about you?” Sandy asked.

“How could I know? When we talk, I keep tripping over my words. I feel like a rad-ox. How could she like a guy who does that?” Alex asked. Some part in the back of his mind was shouting that he had definitely said too much.

“Who knows,” Sandy said. She then reached out and grabbed Gerol’s hand. “So I know a spot where the two of us can go. Interested?”

It took little encouragement. Gerol stood up and followed Sandy out the door.

“Did that just happen?” Scoth asked as he watched the pair disappear.

“I’m too drunk to say, but it looked like it,” Alex asid.

Ben shook his head. “I don’t get it. What does Gerol have?”

“Persistence,” Alex muttered.

Ben stood up. “Hey, I can’t stay. I’m feeling pretty good, but I’ve got to help my dad with the shed tomorrow. He’s already starting to plan for winter, so that means I’ll be doing all the work.”

“See ya,” Scoth said as the larger buy exited the house.

“Man,” said Scoth, “I’m tired. I’m taking off too.”

“You don’t think she’ll tell Mali, do you?” Alex asked.

“Of course not. Sandy’s one of us. She wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Good,” said Alex. “Go on ahead, I’m going to have a few more drinks.”

“Take it easy,” Scoth said. He stood up and wandered slowly out the door. “You know,” said Scoth, “I don’t think I’ve seen her with any of the guys at school.”

“Go home already,” Alex said.

“Try to find your way home safe, and try not to sing as you wander through town this time,” Scoth said with a grin.
“That wasn’t me,” Alex insisted.

Scoth disappeared, leaving Alex alone with his thoughts. Why couldn’t he tell her? He wondered. He pondered this for several minutes. The fear of rejection was the most obvious reason. This was the girl of his dreams, a girl he was fairly certain would one day end up in the clutches of the Lord Mayor, which was why. Everyone was afraid to love her because of her beauty. But to feel her touch…

Alex climbed unsteadily to his feet and walked out of the house and began the long walk home under the starry sky above. He wasn’t concerned about his father finding him in this condition. The man was far more interested in himself to take note of what his son was doing.

As Alex began walking towards his house, he saw a figure in the distance. His vision was somewhat blurred, so he assumed it was one of the friends who had left him behind at the house. He continued ahead as the figure neared. He quickly realized that this was none of the people he was previously drinking with. Dressed in a pair of pants and a billowing white shirt, this was clearly a much more petite figure. In fact, he was familiar with her, the object of his desires.

“So, where are you going?” Mali asked.

Alex shrugged. “Home, I suppose.”

“You smell like alcohol. Have you been drinking?”

“I might have had a drink or two,” Alex admitted. “What are you doing out here tonight?”

Mali sighed, “My house is hot, and I haven’t been able to sleep,” she replied.

“Did you… talk to anyone tonight?” Alex asked.

“Anyone? Like my mother, or my younger brother?”

Alex shrugged.

“Or do you mean Sandy and Gerol?” Mali said with a charming grin.

Alex’s stomach leapt. She knew! “Uh…” he started.

“Because they stopped by outside my window a few minutes ago, and they had some interesting things to tell me,” she said.
“I’m not sure…”

“I know!” said Mali. “I was never sure how you felt, so I could never tell you.”

Alex looked at her, nervous and confused. “Tell me what?”

“I can see the way you look at me when I walk by. You’re always such a cruel bastard to the other girls, but you’ve always been a gentleman to me,” Mali said. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve thought that you like me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

The alcohol induced stupor seemed to fade and Alex suddenly had the presence of mind to realize that this conversation was actually taking place now, just as he had always imagined it would, and this was not a dream. “Yes,” he said simply. “Yes. I dream about you. I want to hold you, and protect you, and feel you.”

“The wait is over,” Mali said as she stepped closer to him. “I’ve also dreamed of you.”

He leaned in and their lips connected. Alex felt a jolt of energy pass throughout his body. He pulled her close to him, and kissed her more intensely. “So,” he said, “want to go somewhere and make out?”

Mali flashed him that charming smile that he adored. “Only if you promise that you’ll still respect me in the morning,” she said with a wink.

They returned to the old house where Alex and his friends had been drinking. They learned much about one another that night, and a bond began to form. It was something that would grow and become deep and overpowering over the course of the next year.

It would be perfection. Until the day the Lord Mayor would come to the graduating class to see if he was interested in taking any of the girls for himself.

 

[Teneb]

Alright, you've sucked me in. Keep going.

 

[Steverooo]

Good deal (I love Gamma World), but the first post, especially, could really use some good proof-reading...