- 10 -

Haven

Did I really kill him?

Kylie couldn't stop thinking about the little grease monkey in the mill. After she had stopped firing she hadn't looked down to see if he'd made it. She had turned her eyes towards the ceiling and didn't blink until she left the mill.

The true realization of what she and the other mamlukes had done didn't sink in until she entered Haven. Once it hit her, it felt like a giant weight had come to rest on her chest, making it so tight so she couldn't breathe. The grease monkey's eyes haunted her; she could see the two white orbs any time she closed her eyes.

"Our best course of action is to kill the slaves under our control, cut the flood lights to uptown, and wait out the Marauder siege here in Haven," Duke's voice carried into the hallway where Kylie, 100, and three other mamluke initiates were seated on the floor.

100 had taken the mamlukes to Haven to be indoctrinated into the Mamluke Order. Although it was somewhat a formality, especially with the city crumbling around them, Ashur had insisted on maintaining the old ritual.

From Kylie's seat, she could see Duke and Ashur through the half open door to Ashur's office. The Lord of the Pitt was shorter then she would have imagined. He was about five foot eight with wiry black hair and a closely shaved, graying beard. He was wearing Brotherhood style power armor, inlaid with gold and Brahmin bones to give him a regal appearance. He had a cool demeanor, as opposed to Duke who was pacing around the office, nervously scratching his mohawk.

"Duke, they are not slaves. They are workers," Ashur said gruffly. His brown eyes trembled.

"Huh?" Duke stopped in his step. He looked down at a large map of the Pitt which was lying across Ashur's luxurious, mahogany desk.

"Don't refer to them as slaves. They are workers. It helps them and us remember that one day they can be free. . .," Ashur paused.

Duke squinted at Ashur, irritated, "Whatever you call them they're rebelling and fleeing to the Marauders. The Marauders arm those that come to them and send them against us. We have too many workers to manage while trying to fight a war. We need to get rid of them."

Kylie shuttered at Duke's cold words. She looked away from Ashur's office down the hallway.

Haven had once been a large condominium building. Ashur had refurbished the old ruin and turned it into a fortified palace. It housed many of the bosses' families, as well as some of the Pitt's most valuable slaves – scientists, doctors, and engineers. The inside of the building was lavish, decorated with the finest scavenge to be found in the city. The polished halls smelled like disinfectant. Fake plants and glittering prewar trinkets hung down from the tile walls. The whole building had been reinforced with steel to withstand attacks from trogs, slaves, or anyone else foolish enough to attack the Lord of the Pitt.

"What are you suggesting?" Ashur walked over to his office window. He peered down at his city. Fires twinkled on the skyline.

"We pull everyone loyal back here and then kill the lights and open the gates to uptown. The trogs will sweep into the city. That should prevent the Marauders from bringing their artillery into uptown within range of Haven. We can hold up for months here as long as we aren't being shelled. The Marauders will tire of the siege. Most of their county allies have already fled."

Ashur shook his head and turned around, "and what would we emerge to, Duke? A barren, wasted city full of trogs? A city without people? A few charred skeletons and a ruined steel mill. . .what is it that you think we are fighting for?"

Duke cocked his head confused, "ourselves."

"No!" Ashur slammed his armored fist down on the table, "we are fighting for the city – for you, for me, for the other bosses, all the way down to the lowest ranking worker. We are all one unit, one order! That is what makes us strong. That is what makes life here possible. If we throw away order and destroy everything we've created, we will have nothing with which to build it back up."

Kylie watched the two men though the doorway. 100 glared at her to look away. Duke noticed her passing glance and then turned back to his leader.

"Then what is our strategy?" Duke asked sarcastically.

"We defend this city tooth and nail," Ashur said coolly. He followed Duke's gaze outside of the room to Kylie and the other slaves, "you see those mamlukes out there? Have you heard how hard they fought for their city? Sometimes in war workers must become warriors. We can conscript more workers like these to bog the Marauders down. Without their allies they won't be strong enough to win."

Kylie thought about Ashur's idea. She pictured hundreds of poorly armed slaves forced to wade out into withering Marauder fire, all locked into collars like the one that dug into her skin.

"The Marauders don't the need the county raiders anymore," Duke sneered, "they have all the rebelling slaves to use as bullet sponges."

Ashur nodded, "well, they will rebel no more. I have ordered Jackson to collar all the workers he can and to round up the rest. . .and I have also sent a message to King Minos, letting him know I had no hand in Ophelia's death. Perhaps if he knows that, he will be willing to end the siege and call a truce before he wastes any more resources."

"Ophelia?" Kylie said to herself, softly. The word left her lips before she realized she had spoken it aloud.

Both Ashur and Duke looked in her direction. 100 gave her a glare like he was going to beat her to death then and there.

Kylie turned red in terrified embarrassment. She wanted to melt through the floor.

Ashur walked over to the doorway and gave her a disarming smile. He pushed the door open fully and motioned for Kylie to stand up.

100 stood up right behind Kylie, ready to snap her neck if so ordered.

Ashur put his hand on her dirty shoulder, "you must be one of the new mamlukes who helped defend our city's banks from the foreign invaders. I have been told how bravely you all fought and I am proud to accept all of you into the Mamluke Order. It is the highest honor a worker can attain, and the first step on your journey to true freedom," Ashur paused, "but now. . .I heard you speak of King Minos's daughter. Tell me mamluke, did you know Ophelia?"

Kylie was nervous to look into Ashur's eyes. She felt uncomfortable with everyone staring at her and wished she had stayed quiet, "I. . .I met a girl named Ophelia out in the steel yard a few days ago. She said she escaped from the mill. . .and that her father was a king."

"Ophelia is alive?. . .This is unexpected," Ashur mused. He turned back towards Duke, "you see, no need for rash decisions at the moment. . .perhaps our solution lies with this mamluke."

Ashur reentered his office and approached Duke, "we should find Ophelia immediately and let King Minos know she is safe. We can then ransom her back to her father in exchange for him lifting the siege," Ashur smiled to himself at his new found plan.

Duke licked his lips, "I don't think we have time for that. . .King Minos no longer matters; he's hundreds of miles away. It's the Marauder commander, Wyoming, who is at the gates. He's the one who will decide whether or not to lift the siege."

Ashur barely listened to what Duke was saying. He began to roll up the map on his desk, "then we ransom Ophelia to him."

Duke was unimpressed, "I met Wyoming and I don't think that will work. He seems to be doing this all out of some deluded sense of honor. We should just give Ophelia to him. That will force him to leave. . .there will be no reason for him to be here."

"You want me to give her away for nothing?" Ashur scoffed, "then we will have nothing left to bargain with to Minos."

"Minos doesn't matter," Duke repeated.

Ashur had grown weary of Duke's attitude, "take this mamluke and find Ophelia. Bring her to me and send for the Marauder commander. Tell him that we have the King's daughter and that I will meet with him to discuss the terms for her release."

Duke waited for Ashur to continue but he was apparently finished. He waived Duke off into the hall.

Duke closed the office door behind him and shuffled over to Kylie. He looked her up and down and then grabbed her by her collar, "this way slave," he began to drag her down the hall, away from 100 and the others.

Kylie followed him with quick steps. She was exhausted but it pained her to be dragged by her collar.

When Duke had pulled her out of earshot from the other mamlukes he leaned into her and whispered, "I won't let Ashur make me die a fool. You find Ophelia and bring her to me. You tell one else."

(*********************************************)

Ophelia!

Kylie wasn't sure if she should call out her name, out of fear of altering every trog to her presence. She bent over and squinted into the large pipe. Inside she could see Ophelia's grubby blanket, a few empty tins of food, and some tattered rags that used to be clothes. There was no sign of the girl. All of the more valuable cargo was missing.

Hope she didn't move on. . .or get eaten.

A trog howled in the distance. The noise made Kylie tense up and clutch her rifle.

Kylie wasn't nearly as frightened to be in the steel yard as she had been before. Most trogs didn't pose much of a threat to someone who was armed and armored. As long as you saw them coming, and there weren't more than a few of them, they were easy pickings. Kylie had shot two trogs on her way back to Ophelia's hidey-hole. With all the groans off in the distance she was growing concerned that Ophelia might not have been so lucky.

Kylie backed away from the pipe and scanned the gangways above her. If a trog had nabbed Ophelia she would have already been chewed to bits by the savages, but it was possible that a Wildman had captured her like last time. It would be an odd coincidence, but Kylie was out of ideas of where else to look, and didn't have a lot of time.

Most of the Wildmen lived high above the steel yard on the gangways where the pollution wasn't as intense and trogs rarely ventured. As Kylie studied what appeared to be an old, abandoned Wildman's camp, she saw a brief flicker of movement high above her.

"Ophelia!" Kylie called.

There was a shadow on catwalk. It had been watching her.

Kylie chased after it.

(*********************************************)

Ophelia hit her face on a pipe and fell onto her back. Her head shot around and she saw the woman chasing after her. She sprang back to her feet and continued to weave between the gangways that crisscrossed the giant power plant on top of the steel yard.

The woman tailing Ophelia was quick and agile. She hopped over a railing, down to a lower level, cutting off Ophelia's path.

Ophelia froze, unsure of which way to run. She saw that the woman was beginning to approach her. She drew her pistol and trained it on her pursuer.

"Go away! I'll kill you!" Ophelia panted.

Kylie raised her hands, leaving her rifle on her back, "I'm not going to hurt you. Don't you remember me? I'm Kylie."

Ophelia was still out of breath. She tucked her knotted hair behind her ear and again aimed her pistol at Kylie, "I know who you are. . .you're here for the bosses," she gestured to Kylie's collar with her pistol, "you must have told them I was here. They sent you to get me, didn't they?"

"Yes," Kylie nodded, "its okay though. They don't want to hurt you either," she took a small step forward and stared down Ophelia's barrel.

"STOP!" Ophelia screamed.

A trog moaned somewhere below.

"I won't let Ashur hold me prisoner," Ophelia sounded frantic. Her eyes darted around, searching for any more trogs.

"What are you going to do?" Kylie continued to approach her.

"Escape. . .," Ophelia shouldered a makeshift knapsack and inched away from Kylie, down the gangway, "the men that invaded the city opened the doors to the yard. I'm going to escape and make my way back home."

"I'm here to take you back home. Ashur wants to send you back to your father so that he will lift the siege and end the war," Kylie crept up to within a foot of Ophelia.

"Well, I'm not going to let you or Ashur capture me. I'll make it home by myself!" Ophelia took off.

Kylie sprinted across the catwalks after her. Ophelia knew her way around the rooftops, but Kylie was a faster runner. She able to chase Ophelia down and tackle her to the ground.

"You can't run!" Kylie struggled to hold onto Ophelia. The girl flailed wildly, "unless you come with me the siege won't end!"

"I don't care!" Ophelia kicked Kylie off of her. She waived her pistol in Kylie's face wildly, "let them die! Ashur and all of the bosses. Let them burn! They deserve it!"

"What about me? What happens to all the slaves like me?"

Ophelia sniffed and stood up, "I don't know. . .," she began to retreat, still aiming the gun at Kylie.

"Do you know how many innocent slaves have died defending the Pitt already?" Kylie's cheeks went flush; her voice was tinged with anger. She stood up.

"I didn't ask for any of this," Ophelia continued to back away. A trog peered up at her from the ground level, "I didn't want any of this."

"This whole war is your fault!" Kylie screamed.

"What?"

"The Marauders are here because of you. Your father sent them because he thought you were dead. Everyone who has died," Kylie's eyes teared up. She wiped her face, "everyone I had to KILL, died because of you. . .everyone who dies if the siege continues will die because of you. . .because you ran away. . .again."

"That's not fair. . .I didn't," Ophelia paused, "I just want to be left alone!"

Kylie tried to collect herself. She had never been so angry, "you have to come back with me. You're the only person who can stop this. You can save thousands of people from dying. If you try and escape everyone in this city will be slaughtered."

"No!" Ophelia cried, ". . . it's not fair. . .I just want to. . ."

"I won't let you run away," Kylie continued to stalk Ophelia, "you'll have to kill me."

Ophelia lowered her weapon. She sat down on the catwalk.

- 11 -

Hamlet: Act III: Scene I

"Well looky here, all grown up," California smiled to Wichita as he approached her from the smoky ruins. She was standing at the edge of uptown, close to the spearhead of the Marauder line. As Wichita came up closer, she put her hand to his armor, and traced the new insignia on his chest.

"Tennessee painted it this morning," Wichita said distracted, he looked off towards the front lines. The profile of Haven loomed over uptown.

"You did good in the river. Must have been pretty tough," she kissed Wichita's cheek, "congratulations on making the grade."

"Thanks," Wichita sat down in the rubble. He looked jittery. He fiddled with something at his side.

"You still all there?" California laughed.

"Huh?" Wichita looked up at her. He had dug a baseball out of his pocket and tossed it from hand to hand, "sure. . . .what are we doing here?"

"We're intimidating meat in the room for a meeting between Wyoming and Ashur," California scanned the front lines.

Wichita continued to stare at the baseball without saying a word. He traced the seams with his fingers and then gnashed the ball in his palm.

California sat down next to him, "well chipper, what's wrong?"

Wichita sucked in his cheek. He ignored the question for a little while and watched the city burn all around him. Wyoming had ordered downtown torched a few hours ago. Fresh, acrid smoke filled the sky and blanketed the twisted streets.

"If you feel like talking. . ." California stood back up. She could see three people approaching from the enemy line.

Wichita glanced up at her, "you. . .are you nervous about attacking Haven?"

"You obviously are," California grinned, "don't worry. I know you'll be fine."

Wichita rose to his feet, "yeah. . .well I don't want to be thrown around like cheap meat anymore."

"We all have to pay our dues."

Wichita spit into the rubble. He eyed the newcomers, "well I hope Wyoming and Ashur can resolve this. . .amicably."

(*********************************************)

Ophelia tripped on a rock amongst the rubble. Kylie caught her and helped her back to her feet. She was cold, her skin was clammy. Kylie could tell she was afraid.

"You're doing something good. It's going to be okay," she tried to comfort Ophelia.

Duke snatched Ophelia's hand, "walk with me," he pushed Kylie away like a dog and dragged Ophelia forward.

Kylie followed the two of them over to the Marauder line, tailing them from a few feet behind. Whenever Ophelia looked back to her she tried to give her a comforting smile.

"We meet again," Duke let go of Ophelia and approached California, who gave him her usual, bemused smile, "where is Wyoming?"

"On his way," California yawned.

Ophelia looked up at Duke, "who is Wyoming?"

"Shut up," Duke spat.

Wichita motioned to Kylie and Ophelia, "who are they?"

"She is just a slave," Duke pointed to Ophelia, "she is why I want to speak to Wyoming."

California winked at Ophelia, "you said Ashur was going to speak with us."

"I have a better offer than Ashur," Duke smiled, "I want Wyoming to hear mine first."

California glanced back, a group of Marauders were approaching from behind, "well here's your chance."

Wyoming, Texas, and Nevada appeared from the thick smoke.

Ophelia recoiled at the sight of Wyoming. Her eyes were drawn to the scalps that dangled off his belt. One of them was red and dripping with flesh blood. He had his short sword drawn and he was holding it down at his side. Although he had a fearsome look on his face, the tattoo on his jaw seemed to smile.

Wyoming skipped the last few feet up to Duke and towered over him like he was an ant. Nevada held back behind the group, while Texas walked up beside Kylie, keeping a eye on the mamluke while munching on his cigar.

Kylie fearfully eyed Wyoming; she had expected him to look more ordinary.

"I hath grown weary of these tiresome parlays. Are we here to negotiate young lapdog, or hast thou come to sell me a wasteland bitch like a market hawker?" Wyoming pointed to Ophelia with his sword.

"I'm here to discuss a truce," Duke stepped in front of Ophelia.

"Well, thoust knows myne terms," Wyoming spat into the rubble at Duke's feet, "and although I see thoust city burning, thoust foul Lord's head does not yet crown myne pike."

"That's true," Duke smiled, "but I thought you'd like to meet Ophelia."

Ophelia didn't move. Duke pushed her forward towards Wyoming, "this is Ophelia, poor King Minos's only maiden daughter."

Wyoming squinted at the blonde girl and wiped his mouth, "O-phe-li-a," he said her name slowly like he was sounding it out.

"She was hiding in the steel yard this whole time; we all thought she was dead. This slave found her," Duke glanced back to Kylie.

Kylie continued to watch Wyoming, who clasped his hands over his skull like he was having a migraine.

"Now you can take her back to the King and claim your prize," Duke turned back to face the Marauder leader.

Wyoming let go of his skull. His head jerked more violently then usual and he caught it with his hands.

Duke furrowed his brow perplexed, "are you okay?"

Wyoming slowly let go of his head. His eyes looked glassed. He stood with mouth agape for a moment, "fair Ophelia?"

"You can take her. Just leave the Pitt," Duke said more loudly.

Ophelia squinted at the strange, towering man. She didn't think she had ever seen him before but she wondered if he might recognize her, "I'm Ophelia," she took a nervous step towards him, "King Minos is my father. You know him?"

Wyoming's face grew gaunt and he looked ill. He leaned over and threw up a mouthful of bile into the rubble. He then stood back up and turned to Ophelia with a blistering stare.

Ophelia shirked under his gaze. She looked back to Kylie, "I'm sorry to have caused all of this. I know it was all my fault. I never should have run away from my father. I just wanted to be able to make my own decisions. Now I realize there are more important things than what will make me happy," Ophelia wiped her eyes, "I'm sorry all this had to happen. I am sure my father will reward you."

Wyoming didn't react. His face stayed cold as ice. He put the blade of his sword to his chest.

Ophelia didn't understand his demeanor, "tell my father I'm sorry. Take me home and I will marry whoever he chooses."

Wyoming continued to stare at Ophelia for what seemed like an eternity.

Duke shifted his feet, impatiently. Kylie looked to the other Marauders.

Wyoming then leaned into Ophelia and whispered into her ear, "get thee to a nunnery."

Ophelia brushed her hair back from her ear, "what?"

Wyoming backed up from her and began to pace, "why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners foul woman?" he cocked his head at Ophelia, staring daggers into her, "if thou needs marry, marry a fool! For wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them!"

"I'm sorry!" Ophelia looked over to Duke in confusion, "please, just lift the siege and take me back. I promise I will-"

"Go thee to a nunnery!" Wyoming screamed. His face was red, he was panting. He clasped his skull like he was having another migraine.

"What the fuck is going on?" Duke was indignant. He pointed to California and Wichita, "you all came here because of that girl. There she is! Take her and get the fuck out!"

Kylie anxiously watched Wyoming pant. His mouth was almost foaming. He turned and locked eyes with her.

"We don't have to fight anymore," Kylie said softly. She immediately regretted it.

Wyoming gave Kylie a frenzied nod and walked over to Ophelia.

Ophelia put her hand on the Marauder's chest to try and calm him, "I'll make sure my father-"

Wyoming grabbed her arms and screamed into her face "GET THEE TO A NUNNERY!"

He threw Ophelia down onto the rubble.

"What the fuck are you doing!" Duke screamed to the other Marauders, "she is the whole reason you all came here. . .can't you see he has lost it! He's insane. Take her and Lord Ashur -"

"Let the doors be SHUT upon the foul Lord that he may play the fool NOWHERE but in his OWN house!" Wyoming screamed while waiving his sword in the air.

"Please," Kylie turned to Texas. He seemed mesmerized by Wyoming's unusually fearsome ravings, "Just take her home!"

Duke looked at Nevada and Wichita, "if you don't take her to Minos I will," he walked forward and grabbed Ophelia's arm.

Ophelia rose up from the rubble slowly and looked between Duke and Wyoming.

Wyoming put his left hand up for a second. He bit his lip and it looked like he was trying to cool his rage. He slowly exhaled and then made a big smile. He then relaxed his pose and motioned with his fingers for Ophelia to walk over to him. His face became less flush and red.

Ophelia hesitated. She eased out of Duke's grasp and took Wyoming's hard hand.

"There, now it's over," Duke mumbled.

Wyoming gave Ophelia a warm smile. She smiled back to him. As she looked into his brooding eyes he jammed his short sword into her belly.

"Uagh," Ophelia collapsed onto the rubble clutching her stomach. Blood streamed down her dirty shirt and pants soaking them.

Duke was stunned. Before he could react, Wyoming drew a pistol and fired a round right into his forehead. Duke hit the ground like a rock.

Kylie screamed. She tried to run to Ophelia but Texas grabbed her from behind and put her in a bear hug.

Wyoming wiped the blood from his sword. He loomed over Ophelia, staring at her broken body with almost curious eyes. He slid his sword back into its sheath and turned around to face his men.

Nevada, Wichita, and Texas looked pale and horrified. Although none of them spoke a word, they seemed to ask him why with their eyes.

Wyoming was enraged by their questioning stares, "I came here to conquer a city! Not to find some BITCH wasteland girl!" he fired a shot straight into Ophelia's chest.

Ophelia was completely limp. Warm blood trickled down the rubble all around her and dripped into the broken street.

Kylie broke free of Texas's bear hug. As the other Marauders raised their weapons, she tried to tackle Wyoming. His massive size easily absorbed her charge and he grabbed her wrists.

"Why!" Kylie started crying.

Wyoming threw her down to the ground next to Ophelia. The Marauders went to shoot her, but Wyoming cowed them with an icy glare.

Kylie was hysterical. She leaned over Ophelia and brushed back her bloody, knotted hair, while sobbing. She then glared up at Wyoming with red eyes, "you are worse than Ashur!"

Wyoming eagerly nodded, "little nymph, I could accuse myneself of such things that it were better myne mother had not borne me. I am proud, violent, and vengeful with more offenses at my beck then I have time to act on them," he loomed over her, blocking out the setting sun, "but what should such fellows as I do, crawling between earth and heaven?"

He grabbed Kylie's slave collar and pulled her up to her feet so she was face to face with him. His cold eyes burned into her. The tattoo on his jaw seemed to speak for him, "we are arrant knaves, all. Believe us none!"

He let go of Kylie and she fell limp to the ground. He then walked towards the Marauder line. For a moment none of them moved.

Wyoming looked to them with a shrug. They looked away from his gaze.

"Be all myne sins remembered," he walked towards downtown.

All of the Marauders except California and Wichita followed.

California peered down at Kylie. She was pale, exhausted, and now in shock.

"You still got a reason to be here honey?" California smiled. She helped Kylie up to her feet and patted her on the back. Dust billowed out from her dirty clothes.

Kylie looked nervously at the two Marauders. Wichita had his pistol drawn and she wasn't sure if he was going to shoot her. She felt so numb she almost didn't care.

"Go on now, git," California smacked Kylie's butt and pointed towards the profile of Haven, "before your head pops off," she shoved her forward.

Kylie looked back to the Marauders once. She began to jog towards uptown, crying.

Wichita leaned over Ophelia's crumbled body. He put his finger to her wrist and checked for a pulse. Blood coated his fingers. Ophelia lay still.

California leaned over behind Wichita. Her long hair tickled the back of his neck. He turned back, looking up at her disgusted.

California gave him a wry smile, "looks like you get to give her a princess's burial."