A Collection of Stories

How to Survive the Kudojan Territory

{WARNING: Contains strong language. Proceed with caution.}

Rule #1: Trust no one but have everyone trust you.

They called themselves The Pack, and at first I didn't know what to make of them: a group of kids with curious faces inspecting me as if they'd never seen a gunshot wound before. Then again, it could've been how I held onto Arch as if he were my lifeline, though he lay unconscious, his head lolling to one side while blood oozed from some hidden wound on his person. My throat felt like sandpaper and my tongue, next to useless, so I simply looked at them, wondering what happened to their parents and whether they'd go off for help or wait and see how long it'd be before one of us kicked the bucket. Their expressions showed indifference; it occurred to me they'd seen their share of blood, maybe even death. I noticed they were all armed. Hell, even the kid with the afro who looked no older than nine had a Glock strapped to his leg, and something told me he knew how to use it.

The heat became unbearable, and the bullet in my thigh made movement impossible. I looked over the crowd that encircled my companion and me, trying to convey to them I was leaning on death's door. Arch had probably already made it there, but I still held him-he was all I had left and we'd always been a ride-or-die kind of team. It was likely the latter, but that didn't bother me; we'd been through some crazy shit, most of which were dangerously fun, but I had no regrets. All stories have an ending, don't they?

Eventually, the kids made way for some guy who looked to be in charge. A pair of Ray-Bans hid his eyes from the abusive sun and a scarf covered the lower part of his face. The red and black badge depicting a wolf's head on his arm struck me as an odd addition to his attire, and the AK-47 strapped across his chest gave him a menacing look. A girl followed close behind him wearing the same badge and scarf over her face, only she carried an M19 and kept a heavy revolver in her thigh holster. The army knife in her boot didn't escape my observation either-these kids clearly did not take kindly to fun and games.

The girl leaned over me, checking my pulse and that of my companion, then said something to her comrade. He waved her away and squatted before me, removing his sunglasses. His green eyes pierced me for some time before he said, almost as if challenging me:

"Rule number one of The Pack: Trust no one but earn everyone's trust," and without taking his eyes off me, "Bag 'em and let's roll out."

Rule #2: Hunt for the pack and only for the pack

Arch and I learned quickly that the group of mercenaries made up mostly of kids literally lived by the one rule: Hunt for the pack. And this was an order carried out to the extreme and the consequences if they ignored, jeopardize, or bent the rule, I had reason to believe, were dire ones.

"You hunt for The Pack and only for the pack," said Wolf, who turned out to be the leader of this vicious group. "And that means that whatever you find belongs to the pack. Whatever you steal belongs to the pack. Whatever you're given belongs to the pack." His menacing gaze pierced every member of his team and though I wasn't yet officially a member yet, I received his withering gaze like the rest. It made me feel good to know I was at least considered important enough to look at.

"In here," he pointed to the rough cemented floors of what they called The Den, "there is no his, hers, or mine. It's 'ours'!"

He pointed to one of the low windows covered in grime and dust.

"Everything you do out there is for The Pack. DO I make myself clear?"

And with maddeningly loud voices, everyone yelled, "Yes, sir!"

This rule was perhaps one, if not the most important rule of The Pack. Killing for self gain was out of the question, and it was hard for one kid called Sabbath; the raiders murdered his folks for carrying valuable documents that would incriminate some important people in government regarding the Breach of Peace of the Red District. This weighed heavily on Sabbath and I never blamed him for wanting revenge. Fortunately, Arch, who had once had a family of his own, kept him from doing something stupid that would ruin him in the eyes of his new family.