Into the Wasteland

Chapter Six

Lieutenant McGee awoke in a daze to find himself in a dark room that was only a few feet across. As his eyes scanned the darkness, he could see that there was no furniture or decorations with only a thin ray of sunlight managed to pierce through a crack in what he deduced to be window to his right, one that been boarded up. He found that he was cold and that his body ached all over, realising only now as his eyes had somewhat adjusted to the low light that he had been stripped and was hanging by his wrists from an exposed pipe above him, bound in place with heavy metal chains that were so tightly constricting his hands that he had lost all sensation. He struggled against the bindings, but his body seemed to object to any motion more than slowly swaying back and forth as pain erupted throughout his leg, back and neck. He attempted a scream though found his mouth was taped shut as. It seemed that the more that became clear to him about his current situation and surroundings the more dreadful and dire things would seem. He kicked around, his feet just scrapping the floor but with every motion causing surges of pain throughout his bruised and beaten body he could not hope to keep this up for long and stopped abruptly to breathe through the pain. He could hear footsteps above and around him so knew wherever he was he was not alone here, and he did not know if he should be grateful or concerned for the knowledge, considering he was chained naked in a dark room either way. He could hear a collection of footsteps approaching from outside.

The door to his left that had apparently been there flung open and startled him, the light from outside the room was nearly blinding him as it flooded in and he found himself closing his eyes as tightly as he could manage. When he opened them, he found he was no longer alone as three most peculiar men were stood opposite him. The man on the left was clad entirely in a suit of pseudo-medieval armour that was built somewhat inexpertly from scraps of metal and thick leather clothing below. It covered him head to toe and a tattered bluish cape was hanging from the suit behind his oversized pauldrons which were repurposed saucepans. His helmet either greatly resembled or was a metal bucket with an eye slit carved into it. The man was clutching a metal baseball bat which had clearly seen its share of skulls as it was stained with aged gore. The man on the right was dressed in a long, dark purple coat and wide brimmed hat, he clutched a gold-coloured cane in one of his thick robotic fists, his arms being replaced with machinery up to the bicep, his other arm behind his back. He was wearing a frightening grin and his eyes were concealed behind a pair of coloured sunglasses. In the middle was the man that McGee assumed to be the ringleader from the position and his general size. He was the tallest of the three, built like a tank. His chest was barely covered by a vest top that was about 4 sizes too small for him and he was so muscular it almost looked as if he had been chiselled from stone and nearly every inch of skin was covered in tattoos of varying style and quality, but all depicted the man himself committing acts of violence against others. His wrists and legs were covered by ragged wraps and plates of red painted metal forming a lose layer of protection and his head was covered by an old welding mask though it had a terrifying paining of a screaming man's face on the front. All McGee could see of the man's real face below the mask where his eyes that peered through the open visor, they were bloodshot and filled with insanity and cruelty.

McGee tired his best to wear a brave face, he forced an indifferent scowl as best as he could manage but it faded almost as soon as it was established, though he suspected that even if he had not failed it would not make any different to these unpleasant men and he became hyperaware that he must looked like a terrified child and this seemed to excite the men. The tank in the centre, without any warning or prompting delivered a painful gut punch to his bound prisoner who sung back several feet. McGee's yelp of pain was muffled by the tape and he was certain that if he had eaten anything before this it would have tried to make its way back out. The tank laughed like a maniac, the knight to his side joined in and the man in the hat just smiled and shook his head, almost in pity of their prisoner.
"Aww, poor little soldier boy." The tank said, his words where slowly delivered and thick with saliva that dripped from below his welding mask. "Thought you lot were tougher." The man snorted before he threw another powerful punch which connected to McGee's chest and produced an unpleasant cracking sound. McGee fought for his breath as he felt his rib shatter, he tried to lift his head to look the tank in his beady eyes but could not keep his head up. The Tank grabbed McGee by the hair and lifted his head himself and then the bound lieutenant felt the shock of having the tape ripped violently from his lips but the gigantic man. He let out a scream, there was no point trying to pretend to be tough here as his fearful expression had long since given the game away, though he did wish it had not been quite as high pitched. He took a moment to catch his breath.
"Who are you?" McGee almost rasped the question. The three men exchanged looks of disbelief and the man in the hat strutted forward.
"Why, we're those nasty gangsters you have been so rudely sent to dispatch." He explained, his voice was almost as smooth as butter but as McGee listened closely, he could nearly hear a faint metallic echo behind it. He produced from behind his back a beaten up, half singed folder and threw it the ground before McGee. McGee could see it was his mission dossier. The man in the hat reached forward with the now free hand stoked his captives chin and worked his oversized, bulky fingers down his body towards his groin as he spoke. "And darling, we do not take kindly to government scumbags looking for our heads as it is, but the fact that they think so little of us that you're one of the soldiers chosen as right for the duty... well, I have never been quite so insulted." He sighed with disappointment as the cold, metallic hand grasped around McGee's privates, causing McGee to squeal and which delighted the men before him. The tank burst out laughing for a moment and had to catch his breath.