“We are the remnants of Men,” the Captain bellowed, “and by God, we shall survive.”
Runner’s heart stiffened in anger. He was thankful for skipping a date with the gallows, but treading that deep into the wasteland was no different than putting a noose over one’s neck and pray you don’t get strangled. It was pretty much stupid. Not even the armoured cars of Section 5 would make it that deep.
“Guards, get them ready,” the Captain ordered.
The guards came for them, but Runner followed the group before they reached him. The doors opened and they all walked down a long passageway.
Runner walked close to Slim Jim. “They say they are giving us a chance of freedom, but we both know that either way, we are dead men.”
“Who knows, we might disappoint them,” Jim replied.
“I’m not trying to be the pessimist, but have you ever been to the wasteland?”
Slim Jim smiled, “No…not really. I lived in CapitalOne with my folks who own Nexus pharmaceuticals, the producers of Sixth sense pills. When I made a sinister discovery about the drug, my parents shipped me off to a Section 5 command rather than have my discovery crumble their contract with the Supreme Councillor.”
“So what happened?” Runner’s gaze lingered on him.
“I’m afraid from there it was Limbo penitentiary for me. You see, my parents are quite influential and could have gotten me out of this pit of goddamn shit! But they left me here to be executed hoping that my secret would die with me, hmm, they got something else coming.” Slim Jim shook his head.
The guards opened another door to the left and made way for everyone to enter. Runner stepped into the large room, followed closely by his new friend, Slim Jim. Large lockers were arranged in a long line down the walls of the room and another served as a divider cutting through the centre.
The Captain stood in front of everyone.
“Pick any locker, open it and take the gears you find. You have been given every resource required to survive the wastelands. Take your weapons, sense pills, gas masks, food rations, torches, cloaks, tents for camping. Dress quickly and prepare yourself for the worst, the City’s Ambassador would like to say a few words before you depart.”
Runner opened his locker. The Captain’s words did not fall short of truth. The locker had been stuffed with everything he could possibly need out there, far better than the resources he had used while in Rat town.
He threw on his cloths, gloves and then went for his boots. They were great, but he needed something more, something suited for harsh terrains. He searched further and found a grey cloak. Runner set the cloak on the floor and held it down with his foot. He caught it at one end and tore it evenly until he made it look like a shawl.
Something caught his attention and he turned around to find a group of boys and girls laughing at him for tearing his cloak. They folded theirs and put it in their bag packs. Runner ignored them and continued. The next thing he found were thick wooden baseball bats, wrenches reforged into knives, a torch light, a box of match stick, ropes, first aid kit and cooking utensils tied to his back pack.
“No guns?” Runner said.
“Who asks for guns?” The Captain yelled.
“There are gangs of man-hunters in the wastelands. We need a hand gun or something…” Runner raised his voice in reply.
The Captain came towards him, “No guns!” he said, “If you don’t like your weapons then you can throw your fist at them, understood!”
“Yes,” Runner said.
YOU ARE READING
Liberation (Remnants of Men)
Science FictionWhen seventeen year-old Runner was sentenced to death for stealing a loaf of bread in MegaCity One, his dreams were literally at an end. But then he opts to sign up for the Remnants of Men, a government sanctioned search for a rumoured fresh water l...
