The Slave Game

Chapter One: Orphan

Chapter One: Orphan

I walked through the day, eventually finding a road to go down. I followed that for a long time. The sun started setting. The forest was far behind me. There no buildings in sight. I had nowhere to hide. I kept going, hoping to find shelter. My body could barely move anymore. I eyes drooped from the long exhursion. The howls of the Bogs filled the night air.
I thought I could see forms of what I hoped to be buildings far in the distance. The wind blew, throwing dirt of the wasteland at me. The howls drew closer. I had two options. I could try to press on toward buildings that may or may not be there, or I could just call it. Make a stand.
I couldn't walk that far fast enough to outrun the Bogs at this pace. I had never fought a Bog, and I knew I probably couldn't kill one, but if we're going to die to them anyway, I'd rather die fighting.
I stood and faced the the direction of the howls. I put my spear in my right hand for my primary weapon, and my knife in the left for defense. I saw the shadow of a Bog drawing near. It's glowing blue eyes striking me with fear. This was it. It drew closer, scraping its claws on the street with every step. It was a few feet away from me. Fear gripped my heart. My body felt a thousand times weaker than it already was.
The creature leapt at me. I braced my spear in front of me, only to have the Bog knock it aside. It forced me to the ground with no effort, digging its claws into my left arm. I was so tired and weak that I couldn't even cry out in pain. The Bog looked up to the moon and howled in triumph.
This was it. I was going to die...
"I'm sorry, dad." I closed my eyes and waited.
The embrace of death never came. I opened my eyes to see a light shoot out of the darkness. The Bog looked surprised. A shot echoed in the night. The creature was thrown off of me and took two more impacts from a rifle. A figure then walked over to me. I couldn't see his face in the night.
"Dad..?" Everything went black after that.

I opened my eyes to a ceiling. A wooden, somewhat musty ceiling, but a ceiling none the less. Where was I? How did I get here?
I sat up and felt the pain in my shoulder. I looked over to see bandages covering my wounds. After assessing my physical condition, I looked around the room. An oak nightstand with a lamp sat to my right. Resting on it was my dad's knife. Facing the foot of the bed was the door. Next to the small window on my left was a dresser. The room itself was quite small. The floors were wooden.
I slid out of bed and grabbed my dad's knife. The floor creaked as I walked over it to the door. That also creaked as I opened it. I walked out into what could hardly be considered a hallway. It was probably three feet long. On one end was another door. Adjacent my room was a bathroom. To my right was the living room, small, and sharing space with a kitchen. A rocking chair sat beside a sofa. Behind the sofa was a small dining table. The kitchen appliances were to the right of my vision.
I stepped out into the living room and found a man at the counter. He wore a tan trench coat and tattered jeans. He peered back to me. He was middle aged, brown eyes and graying hair.
"Morning, sport. You hungry?" He came over and handed me a plate with what looked like deer meat on it with a fork. I took it gingerly, keeping my eyes on the man. He nodded to the couch. "Sit. You look like you can barely stand."
I took a seat and noticed the huge hunger in my stomach. I began eating, slowly, still keeping aware of my surroundings.
The man sat down on the rocking chair. "What's your name, kid?"
"Kyle." I said with a raspy voice. I was also incredibly thirsty.
The man unhooked a canteen from his waist and handed it to me.
I took it but didn't drink. I didn't know this man. There could be anything I'm this canteen...
He waved to it. "Go ahead. It's just water."
I decided if this man were going to do something, he would have done it when I was asleep. I took a deep swig of the water and felt it wash down my throat. I then went back to the food.
"I'm Jed." He said.
I immediately felt bad for not asking his name in return. I nodded, not knowing what to say.
"What were you doing out there at night? Surely you're a smart enough kid to know not to go out at that time." He said.
"I was walking during the day. I couldn't find shelter. So I tried to fight." I replied.
"Looked more to me like you were trying to die." He commented, frowning. "Was there no one with you?"
I nodded, tears forming In my eyes. "I was with my dad... we ran into some bandits and he distracted them... I never saw him again. It's been a week."
His face saddened at that. "I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure he was a good man."
I nodded, just looking ahead.
"Yet you would still throw your life away in a fight against the Bogs." He stated. "He would give his life to save you, and that's how you repay him?"
I looked to him. Not knowing what to say. "I tried to fight." Was all I could muster.
"It looked more like you were giving up." He countered. "You can't do that."
I got irritated. Who was this guy to tell me what I can and can't do? Who was he to think he knew what my thoughts were?
"Your father stayed behind so you could live." He said gently. "Dying now would be a dishonor to him."
I softened. He was right. "What do I do now? I'm alone." I picked up my knife which sat at my side. "And I have nowhere to go."
"You could always stay here." He said. "The town has good people. We could see you taken care of."
"Thank you." Was all I could say. This man didn't know me. Yet he saved my life and offered to keep me alive when I had no one else. My father had taught me that kindness was a rare and endangered trait in the waste land.
He nodded to the door. "Come on. I'll show you around town."