Radiation: Tales of the New Age - Volume 1: Skallen

Chapter 1: Cannibals on Ice

The boy trudged through the snow, cursing under his breath, a large bundle of logs strapped to his back with bungee cords.  The snow came up to his knees, small crumbs of ice spilling into his boots.  As he slowly came over the hill into the clearing, he saw the beautiful lights of his hometown.  A small village on the Northern Coastline known as Vaez, named after a sign the first inhabitants found at the city limits, although it did seem to be missing several letters. His house was on the coast, overlooking the bay where the docks once stood proud, but were now rotting, several fishing trawlers floating vacantly out in the water, their anchors dropped decades ago. Storied spread through the settlement that if the wind blew just right, you could hear cries of the starving seamen, and the stench of their rotting catch and putrid cannibalism would waft through the village. These were mere stories, though, told to the boy long ago by his father to frighten him away from the water, because while vile cannibalistic sailors may not be out there, who the fuck knows what could be in those waters. 

    The boy slammed his shoulder against the door to his home, jostling it free of its sticky old hinges and rusted lock. He quickly shut it, keeping most of the warm air inside. He knocked his boots against the wall, clearing off the snow from his soles. A fire crackled in the center of the room, a large pit was dug through the floorboards, with metal fence surrounding it, creating a makeshift fire pit.

    "Mom, dad, I'm back." He called into the house, setting the logs down next to it. He walked over to a large couch placed facing the crackling embers, it was wide enough to fit three people, but the two far cushions were occupied. Two mannequins sat staring blankly at the fire, one male, one female. The male was dressed in a pair of beige khakis and a white dress shirt with a sweater vest pulled over it. The woman was dressed in a polka dot dress that reached to just below her knees, with a white apron tied around her. On both of their faces were paper cutouts of a man and a woman's faces, apparently cut from old photographs, and nailed onto their foreheads. The boy walked up behind the couch and planted a kiss on the female's cheek and giving the male a hug. 

    "Hey guys, how was your day?" The boy asked as he hopped over the back of the couch, planting himself in between them, his arms on each of their shoulders. 

    "I grabbed more wood for the fire, just let me know if you guys get cold."

    They didn't answer back.

    The boy yawned and stretched, "Okay guys I'm going to hit the hay, wake me if you need anything." 

    He laid down on the couch, placing his head in his mother's lap, and, feeling the warm plastic slightly burning his cheek, fell asleep. 

"Hey kid, you alive?"

The boy's eyes slowly flickered open, and stared right into a pair of sunglasses and a ski mask.  He began to sit up as a black bag was forced over his head and he felt hands restrain his arms, a rope tied around him, squeezing his chest and digging into his arms. He felt himself being hoisted up, and a muffled voice shouting. He lashed out and kicked at his captor, but was met with a swift but heavy blow to the head. He was dragged into the cold air of outside, feet dragging in the snow, looking for purchase. They walked for several minutes before the boy felt himself fall and hit metal, followed by the sound of his captor's heavy boots hitting the floor next to him. There were more muffled voices. He felt a sudden lurch as the small boat roared to life and flew across the water out to open sea. Several minutes went by, physically, he was as calm as possible, barely moving. Mentally, though, his thoughts were rushing across his mind at thousands of miles an hour, pure panic and adrenaline rushing in his veins.

    He was thrown over a shoulder and forced to his knees as he was carried onto another ship. The bag was removed from his head and the salty sea air stung his nostrils. He saw that it seemed to be a refurbished oil tanker. The deck of the ship was humongous, mostly a flat empty space, undoubtedly stripped for metal and parts, but the boy noticed several new modifications. Placed every twenty feet or so along the edge were large harpoon guns, along with four large cranes, two ports and two starboards, and a large raised platform in the middle of the ship, covered in dried blood, a large metal hatch sitting in between him and the bloody platform. The boy glanced from side to side and saw that he was lined up with several others, all on their knees, a soldier stood behind each of them making sure they didn't try to stand. They were all clad in thick leather armor, with bandannas and goggles to protect themselves against the sea air. Red sashes trailed across their chests, fastened to their left shoulder and their hip, and flowing down their right thighs. They each held an assault rifle, and had them trained on the back of their prisoner's heads.