607

Florescent lights hummed and crackled as they spit harsh light off the walls of the concrete room. David stood at attention along with the rest of the runners. There was a jarring rattle as the technicians made their way through the room. They struggled as they pushed a large metal cart filled with complicated looking metal boxes. Each one modified with shoulder straps. As they approached each man they placed one on them, adjusted the straps and began fussing with the mechanical parts of the box.

The cart made its way behind him and the technicians began pulling and jostling him. The weight of the box cut into his shoulders. From behind an electric whine grew louder and was followed by a loud click of metal. Careful not to move his lips and draw attention to himself, he whispered:

“I didn’t think it would be this heavy.”

The comment seemed to take the technician adjusting his shoulder straps by surprise. He smirked at him and whispered back:

“Its the all the locks, the actual payload barely weighs anything.”

They moved on down the line as David stared ahead, adjusting his posture to support the added weight.

A short balding man in a button up shirt and khaki pants made his way to the front of the room. As he passed by, David noticed his scent. That twinge of manufactured freshness meant to capture the essence of some far away isle. He recognized it immediately from his first job packing boxes in Outbound.

The high pitched tone of his voice caught David by surprise as he addressed the men.

“Gentleman, I wont waste too much of your time, some of you have a long day ahead of you. Each of you has been selected for this outfit due to exceptional work records. With your help the company hopes to grow this new program into the next big earner. Now, here’s why the job came with those extra credits.”

A projection of a satellite image appeared behind the man. It showed a large building at the bottom surrounded by hundreds of scrap metal shacks, encased in a massive wall with a gate facing north. On the opposite end past a graveyard of burned out buildings and cars stood a nearly identical gate and wall.

“We have received reports of extra Raider activity on the route. We believe they are operating out of this cluster of buildings.”

He pointed at a small group of concrete shell buildings and scattered cars in the center of the picture.

“I wont lie to you, its impossible to keep information within the company. They know you are coming, and they want what you have. If you are captured, the company advises you to abandon the payload, escape by any means necessary and make your way back for a debriefing.”

The man standing next to David spoke without looking at him.

” Yeah then they charge your account for the payload, better to die by a Raider than to starve to death paying that back.”

His chest tightened as he thought about the man’s words. He knew he was right, but this was the first time he heard someone say it out loud. It didn’t matter he had people depending on him. Failure was not an option.

The short bald man finished his briefing with

“The company wishes you luck, and as always safety first!”

The men snickered at the closing remark as they filed out of the room and into a large warehouse. They marched in rows of two towards a bay door that was opening. It flooded the cold room with the early days sunlight.

As David marched out into the light he flinched and squinted as his eyes reacted to the brightness. Once he adjusted he could see children climbing out of the many shacks surrounding the building. They ran to see the men as they marched.

David thought it was nice to see them excited about something. Its the only time they would get to act like kids. Later that day they would be starting their shifts in the picking wing.

The parade of men stopped in front of a pair of large steel gates on the far wall. The man next to David turned to him.

“Good luck man”

David made one final adjustment to his shoulder strap and looked at the man. He could see the fear behind his eyes and could only imagine how obvious it was to see his.

“You too”

The sound of metal chains being pulled filled the morning air as the gates began to open. They opened just enough for each of the men to squeeze through one by one.

He inhaled deeply, trying his best to compose himself, he made his way through. Once outside the smell of smoke stung his eyes and throat.

Due to their training none of the men took off yet, instead they formed a tight semi circle around the open gate. Finding his place in the far right of the circle he began to look over the wasteland he was going to have to cross. A fourteen mile labyrinth of urban decay and wreckage. He had made the run before but never with such sought-after cargo.

The last man made his way through the gate and took his place with the men. The rattle of chains returned as the gates began to close behind them. A loud thud rang through the wasteland as it sealed. Without saying a word to each other the men broke apart and began disappearing into the debris field.

David ran straight ahead for about a mile and then cut left into the wastes. He had good luck with this route in the past and hoped it would hold up.

He tried to maintain pace while making sure not to gas himself out. Inhaling through his nose for two breaths and out through his mouth for one as he pumped his legs. With the added weight of the pack, it took longer than usual to fall into the rhythm of the run. Eventually his nerves settled and all that took residence in his mind was the sound of his breath and the pounding of his feet. He dodged the burned out cars and cut through the bombed out buildings with relative ease.

After about an hour he allowed himself a short rest. The shoulder straps of the pack had dug into his skin leaving his shirt bloody and ripped. He winced as he adjusted the pack and tried to get his bearings. The heavy smoke made it impossible to figure out the time based on the sun. he began a fast paced walk to keep his muscles from cramping up. As he started the slow process of falling back into rhythm, he kept a sharp watch on his surroundings. Just as he started to shift back into a steady jog a loud blood curdling scream shot out across the wasteland. A cold shot of adrenaline made its way up his spine as he quickened his pace.

“Don’t think about it just get there. Just get there. Just get there” The mantra repeated in his head as he made his way forward. The wreckage was heavier here. It was near impossible to keep a continuous pace without having to climb or crawl. It went on like this for about another hour when a second scream rang out. This time much closer and accompanied by manic laughter. He quickly dove for cover under a nearby car. he could hear people talking in the distance. His heart pounded and he held his hand over his mouth in an attempt to quiet his breath. The voices were growing louder.

He wanted desperately to remain under the car, but the sound of the approaching raiders made him second guess his hiding spot. He made a snap decision to run for it before they came into view. He shot out from under the car and ran as fast as he could away from the noise. All while trying to be as silent as he could be. Fueled by fear, he ran at a full sprint until he could no longer hear the threat. As the adrenaline wore off his legs turned to jelly causing him to crash to the ground in a cloud of dust. While he gasped for air, he shuffled back to his feet. He stood wheezing, desperately trying to avoid passing out. His vision began to tunnel. Through sheer determination he managed to remain upright, his breathing began to regulate.

Suddenly rapid footsteps came from his left. Before he could register what was happening his side exploded with pain and he was on the ground. Only the silhouette of the man who collided with him could be seen against the sky. David was powerless as the attacker shuffled over top of him using his weight to pin him down. He struggled as he watched the man raise a rock towards the sky and bring it back down on him. A sharp pain and a blinding flash, followed by blackness.

A warm trickle traveled down the side of his face as he regained consciousness. He went to wipe it but something was stopping his hands. Reality slowly made its way back into his mind as a deep throbbing headache set in. His vision was blurred and distorted by the blood. He blinked rapidly to clear it. He could hear people talking, accompanied every so often by a loud metal on metal clash. He managed to regain his focus, his hands and feet were bound in rope. He counted three men as they each took a turn trying to open his pack, striking it with a metal pole. They were dressed in dark blue jumpsuits with grease paint smudged faces, which highlighted their gnarled teeth when they laughed.

They were too occupied with the pack to take notice of David wriggling to get free from the ropes. During his struggle he noticed a piece of scrap metal jutting out from the frame of a burned out car. Careful not to draw their attention, he began to inch his way towards it.

The metal box bounced around the dirt as one of men continued to bring the pipe down on it. David slowly positioned himself against the piece of metal. He could hear the man wielding the pipe speak.

“ How did the others get theirs open?”

The largest man in the group answered as he snatched the pipe from his hands.

“They didn’t hit it like a bitch”

The first man smirked as he answered back.

“Go on then big man show us how it’s done”

David rubbed his hands up and down on the piece of sharp metal until the frayed rope fell behind his back. He began to work on the heavy knots that bound his feet. The big man grunted and hit the box with a fury of blows. Each hit louder than the last until finally a mechanical whine was heard followed by a clank of metal as the lid popped opened. The men cheered and patted the larger man. David freed his legs, possessed by panic and instinct, he scrambled. He found a rock not far from were he was tied up. Not fully registering what he was doing he ran at the big man, who was still soaking in the admiration of his peers.

He felt a shock run from his palm down his forearm as he struck the man’s head as hard as he could. The man went limp and rag-dolled to the ground. The other two men lunged forward and attempted to help their companion. David screamed as he waved the rock at them. They stepped back to regain their barrings. The added space gave David time to get his hands on the metal pipe that was laying next to the lifeless Raider. Without wasting a moment he charged them, striking with all the strength he had. A spray of pink contrasted with the gray sky as he made contact with one of the men’s jaws. After seeing this the remaining man turned and ran. Drunk with adrenaline, David quickly caught up with him and tackled him to the ground.

He climbed on top him and, screaming, brought the pipe down over and over until a pile of blood, bone, and brain matter was all that remained of the mans head.

He stood as the adrenaline abandoned him. Leaving him with the cold reality of what had just occurred. Tears began to fall from his burning eyes and it took everything he had to not fall to the ground and fully weep.

“Don’t think about it. Just get there, just get there”

Hearing his own voice speak the words out loud took him by surprise.

“Just get there, just get there, just get there”

His voice cracked as he wiped the tears from his eyes and made his way over to the pack. He tried to close the lid but had no luck. The familiar pain returned to his shoulders as the straps settled into the wounds they had previously made. He held the pipe tightly in his hand.

“Just get there”

The pack rattled and clanked as he began to run. The remainder of his journey through the wastes was a blur. As he approached the end of the debris field the smoke began to clear, revealing a bright blue sky. It made the massive wall of cement that came into view seem even more unnatural. He made his way to the gates. A small speaker mounted underneath a large camera crackled to life.

“Route Number!”

David stood there in a daze his head throbbing.

“Route Number!”

He removed the pack and shoved the back of it into the camera. The speaker crackled again.

“You’ll have to throw that pipe away”

He looked at the pipe for a moment, then tossed it to the ground, taking care to remember exactly where it was. He returned to staring into the camera.

After a pause the locks began to clank and rattle. The gates opened to reveal a guard station with a table and a small metal door. A smug looking man was posted up behind a caged window. On the opposite side of the room was another set of gates. The man spoke but David didn’t hear him. He threw the pack onto the table and stared at him. A look of unease replaced the cocky smirk on the mans face, as the small metal door slid open. He took the pack scanned it and nervously spoke.

“You’re going to 607 Fillmore.”

He slid the pack back through the door towards David, who picked it up without a word. He then moved to stand at the gates on the far end of the room.

The confidence of the guard began to return to him

“Don’t linger in there”

David snapped his head to glare at him, causing the man to shrink in his cage. He pressed the button to open the gates.

He walked through onto a freshly paved road. A group of children ran by playing and laughing. The perfectly kept lawns caught his attention first; they butted up against bright white fences that surrounded the uniform two story houses. Well dressed women hung clothes on lines and yelled after the children. None of them acknowledged David as he made his way past them.

He went two blocks down and made a right. There was no change in scenery other than the sign that read Fillmore Street. He made his way to 607, followed the neatly placed paving stones of the walkway. A sprinkler system began to tic its way across the lawn. David stood on the front porch of the house. He reached into the pack and pulled out a small bag of apples. He hung them gently on the door. The pack made a high pitched whine and a small compartment on the side opened. David reached in and pulled out what was inside.

The camera snapped and flashed as he framed the bag in the center of the shot. He stood there for a while staring at the brightly colored packaging. It showed a happy orchard worker extending his arms as if to welcome you to his harvest. He thought about tearing into the bag and devouring its contents. He thought about kicking in the door and staking his claim to this type of life. He thought about burning every inch of this paradise and leveling the playing field.

Then he thought about everyone who depended on him.

He turned and made his way back to the gates.