Hello, everyone. I'm finally back! Thank you, Toolazytologin, for your review. Don't worry, none of my stories are dead!
A ringing sound, appearing from the momentary silence of his surroundings, reverberated through Calvin's skull. He was on fire. His pain receptors were blaring alarms, shouting to him that he was injured. That he was cut and bruised and burnt.
He coughed violently, his eyes fluttering open, and glimpsed Evelyn slowly getting on her feet a few yards away. Shards of hot metal were scattered on the ground, debris burning everywhere. Jameson and Hobbes, he couldn't see. He tried to blink the tears out of his eyes, and tried to get up. His hand made contact with a piece of metal, and he let out a stifled cry at the scorching pain.
Dropping back down, his eyelids drooped again as he noticed the burning wreckage a couple yards away from him. People were shouting, firing…
The next second, arms grabbed him and hoisted him up.
Two Hours Earlier.
The sky had cleared up once again- the second time in one day- and brighter than before. Winds picked up, sweeping dust across the gray line that was Interstate highway 80.
From a nearby abandoned building flew a crow, its talons sharp and its beak sharper. With curious eyes, it looked down below at a vehicle, driving down the road. A Jeep.
From years of experience, this bird knew that such a thing was usually manned by humans. Usually contained food. And with the acid rainstorm and otherwise dry weather, its flock hadn't eaten in days. Landing on a telephone wire, it followed the path of the Jeep as it drove down the road for a minute, then took off.
As the crow made its way across the fields of dead grass all around the highway, it came upon another car. It was beige, boxy, and well-armored. As the bird circled around one time, it saw the vehicle leave the dirt road it had been traveling on, enter the highway, and follow the Jeep from a few minutes earlier.
The crow didn't think much of why the two vehicles were there. It was hungry. Its flock was hungry, and it had found something to eat.
Inside of the Jeep, Evelyn watched the bird, now just a barely visible speck in the distance, fly off through binoculars. No one had said much for the past half-hour. All of them had been watching the road, the terrain, for anything resembling a Humvee.
"I saw a crow again," Evelyn told the other occupants. "That probably means that they're following us."
"Maybe this one was just a loner," Hobbes suggested, although he didn't seem to believe it.
"If a flock turns up, we can burn the road flare that we have," Calvin said. "The smoke should keep them at bay."
The group slipped back into silence. For a few minutes Evelyn fiddled with an old, empty Zippo lighter that she had found, flipping the metal cap open and shut repeatedly. Such things, she realized, helped to calm people down in tense situations, as well as offer something to do when bored or waiting. Calvin had his coin, and the strange dice swinging from the rearview mirror belonged to Hobbes, who would roll them and interpret the results. Beside her, Jameson was writing in a leather-bound notebook, the pages old and partially stained, ripped and yellowed. On the cover was an emblem, hand-drawn in purple and yellow colors. A circle, bisected by a line running down the middle. An aster was drawn within it, the flower's center a smaller circle containing a diamond-shaped star.
Noticing Evelyn's interest, Jameson grinned and asked, "Do you want to take a look?"
"Sure," Evelyn nodded, and gently took the offered book. Looking at the pages, she was confused to see not English words, but strange symbols that didn't look like any written language she knew. She saw sketches and drawings on some of the pages, but she had no idea what anything meant.
"What kind of language is it?" she asked.
"Not a language, a cipher," he said. "Only I can understand it, because I know how to read it."
"Is it a diary or?..."
"Yeah, among other things," Jameson nodded. "Poetry, sketches, things like that."
"Looks old," Evelyn noted, and looked at the cover again. "What's the inscription on the cover?"
"That's from my favorite book," Jameson said. "'When you want something, all the universe conspires to help you to achieve it.'"
A small scoff came from Calvin in the front seat, but it was quiet enough that Evelyn could pretend not to have heard it.
After a few more seconds Jameson said, "Y'know, you could make a book like this as well. For anything you want to put in it."
"I don't know what I would put in it," she shrugged. "What book is the inscription from?"
But Jameson wasn't listening anymore. Instead, he was staring perplexedly at the rearview mirror. Following his line of sight, Evelyn noticed that one of the dozens of broken down cars along the highway wasn't broken down at all.
It was moving… and it was a Humvee.
'When you want something, all the universe conspires to help you to achieve it.'
How naive, Calvin thought, scoffing slightly. From what he had experienced, the universe wasn't a being that helped you… just the opposite, in fact. Every day was a struggle. A fight for survival. Sure, you could hope for the best, but one should always expect the worst. Because that's all the world had left to offer.
"Y'know, you could make a book like this as well. For anything you want to put in it," Jameson said.
"I don't know what I would put in it," Evelyn shrugged. "What book is the inscription from?"
Through the rearview mirror, Calvin watched Jameson undergo a strange transformation. Instead of answering, the Scrapper stared at the mirror, and that's when Calvin saw it.
"They're behind us!" Evelyn realized, and Calvin stomped down on the gas pedal. The roar of the engine increased, and looking through the mirror, he could see a figure climbing halfway out of one of the Humvee's windows. His intent was obvious.
"Calvin, swerve!" Evelyn shouted, and the next second, a short rattle of gunfire smashed through the back window. Everyone ducked in their seats as more bullets struck the back of the jeep. Calvin swerved from side to side to try and make it harder for the raider to hit them. They needed to respond.
"Hobbes, take my gun!" he exclaimed. "Light that car up!"
Evelyn and Jameson wasted no time in picking up their weapons. Waiting for a lull in the gunfire, they sat on either side of the shattered back window. The shooting continued, the sound traveling far across the terrain. Desperately, Calvin looked around for some sort of escape.
The firing abruptly stopped.
"Now!" Hobbes shouted, and leaned out of his window. All three of them fired, their bullets punching into the armor of the Humvee. Glass shattered and dust shot up, the power of three guns forcing the Humvee to retreat. Jameson laughed maniacally, unhinged, spraying the front of the vehicle with ammunition.
For a second, Calvin grinned, before two Raiders popped up from behind the roof and raised their assault rifles. A new wave of hell smashed into the back of the Jeep as muzzle flashes erupted out of the Raiders' weapons. Both sides were now firing, causing the space between the two vehicles to become a killzone. The Humvee, however, was more armored, and closed the distance bit by bit. Soon, the two cars were only a few yards apart and closing.
"Watch out! They're-" Evelyn tried to say. The next second, a heavy object impacted the back of the jeep, and Calvin lurched forward, nearly smashing his nose on the steering wheel before his seat belt caught him. Absent-mindedly, his foot eased off of the gas pedal, and the jeep slowed. Furious, he stomped down on it, speeding it up again. But the Humvee had already employed a different tactic. It drew abreast of the jeep, and for a second, the vehicles drove side by side. Then the Humvee swerved.
"Calvin, watch out!" Hobbes warned, but Calvin saw it coming. He swerved to the right, meeting the incoming Humvee with a crash and preventing the bulky vehicle from running them off of the road. The two parties wrestled, the jeep doing its best but just not strong enough. Slowly, inch by inch, it neared the edge of the road. Looking over, Calvin realized that the driver was pulling out a pistol.
"Evelyn, the money box!" Hobbes shouted, noticing the same thing. Evelyn scrambled to do so, dragging the metal box out and throwing it to Hobbes, who caught it deftly with one paw. And just in time. The passenger window shattered as bullets flew through. Using the box as a shield, Hobbes fired back at the driver of the Hummer. With no cover of his own, the driver relented and pulled away.
For a minute, both sides detached, reloading and recovering. Calvin stabilized the Jeep again, breathing heavily. They needed an escape.
"Calvin, we can't fight forever!" Evelyn shouted over the engine, fingers trembling as she reloaded her shotgun.
"There! Take that exit!" Hobbes exclaimed, pointing at a small road leading down into an abandoned town. "We'll lose them in the streets of that town."
"You got it," Calvin said, and wrenched on the steering wheel. " Evelyn, James, hold the money box up against the rear window. That should keep a stray bullet from hitting one of us."
But the Raiders had stopped firing. Perhaps they wanted to conserve their ammo, or maybe they were just waiting for the opportune moment. Nevertheless, Jameson and Evelyn kept the box tightly pressed against the shattered back window. Both vehicles soon entered the town, driving down a main road that cut through the middle. Soon, the town became a winding maze of streets and turns; a perfect place to finally lose these damned Raiders.
"Get ready," Calvin warned, spotting a turn. "I'm about to show you all how to shake a pursuer!"
The next second, he turned the steering wheel, and the jeep skidded ninety degrees as it entered a tight street branching off of the main road. The Humvee, surprised, barely managed to stay on the jeep's tail. Immediately, Calvin repeated the move, turning onto another street, his nerves having turned to titanium. Without hesitation, without thinking, he twisted and swerved, doing his utmost to outmaneuver the Humvee.
In the back, the sound of gunfire deafened everyone as Evelyn and Jameson did their best to dishearten the Raiders with bullets. Soon, the Humvee could barely keep up.
Then, as Calvin turned on another street, his eyes picked up several things at once. A parking lot in front of a few stores, cars sitting in it. One of the parking spaces in front of a store with a glass wall was vacant. The Humvee was a whole street behind them because of his random and quick driving. He had… maybe ten seconds.
And just like that, he had a plan.
Turning suddenly, Calvin swerved into the parking lot's entrance. The vacant space was now right in front of them. Pressing his foot on the brake and turning the wheel a second time, he turned the jeep around 180 degrees, put the clutch in reverse, and backed into the parking space in a blink.
Now, the jeep was parked in front of the store with the glass wall, surrounded by other beat-up cars. Calvin quickly turned off the engine. "Guys! Get down!" With any luck, the Humvee wouldn't even realize that they had parked and speed down the road right by them.
Another second, then the Humvee appeared, turning onto the road. It raced along, and, to Calvin's elation, roared right by the parking lot. His trick had worked.
"Ugh…" Right by him, Hobbes clutched at his stomach with one paw, the other gripping the safety handle tightly. He swallowed, then swallowed again with a sick expression. In the back, Evelyn hissed as she unsteadily got off of the ground. Her face had several small cuts from the broken glass. Looking around, Calvin realized that all of them did.
"That was some driving," James mumbled. "Are we safe?"
"For the moment, I think," Calvin said. "The Raiders are probably going to be watching the exit, so we'll cut across the fields and get back on the highway a few miles ahead. We'll give it a few minutes for the Humvee to go."
"Where's the first aid kit?" Evelyn asked.
"Under the seat," Calvin said. "We should probably get patched up. We're a real mess-"
"Calvin," Hobbes warned. "I hear the humvee."
Tension refilled in them all as Calvin looked around. "I don't see them. What direction are they coming from?"
"Straight ahead…" Hobbes muttered, looking ahead at the other side of the road. In contrast to the shops and parking lot on their side of the street, the other side consisted of a simple sidewalk and an old wooden fence. "And it's coming closer. But that wouldn't make sense. There's no road right in front of us, so-"
A section of the fence suddenly splintered and cracked as it was trampled, and the Humvee broke straight through. Swerving, it entered the parking lot, speeding straight towards the front of the Jeep.
"Oh, sh-!"
A metalling crash and the grinding of metal tortured Calvin's ears as the Humvee slammed into the front of the Jeep. Bullets sprayed through the windshield, thumping into the car's interior. Calvin was barely able to get down when he heard something like a painful yell. Then, another giant crash sent a cascade of glass shards washing over the top of the Jeep, and Calvin had to close his eyes. Finally, a thump, and then no more.
Grabbing at his revolver, Calvin shot through the windshield of the Humvee as he sat up. Then grabbing at his door, he fell out onto the ground and took cover behind it. The Humvee had rammed into them, sending the Jeep straight through the glass wall and into the store behind them. Empty aisles filled it, although the Jeep now took up some of the space. It wasn't too large, perhaps the size of a big house. The room was dark. Any smaller details were indiscernible.
Around him, other doors opened, and Evelyn scrambled out with her shotgun, followed by James.
"Hobbes?" Calvin called out. A few shots from the Humvee made him wince, before he saw it. "Hobbes!"
Hobbes was slumped over in the passenger seat, out of view from the Scrappers but unmoving. Suddenly, he took a trembling breath, and sort of tried to grab at his chest. Blood stained his fur. "No, no, no!"
A string of loud shots suppressed the Humvee as James fired his M-16. Calvin carefully made his way around the back of the Jeep, motioning for Evelyn to follow him. In the darkness, they snuck close to the passenger door where Hobbes was, when the crunching of glass alerted them.
Evelyn's shotgun spat fire and a Raider's foot just barely disappeared behind the Humvee. A few curses rang through the store. Another string of shots from Jameson kept the Raiders from retaliating, and Calvin opened the door. "Hobbes. Hey, buddy."
Hobbes groaned and tried to move. With all of his strength, Calvin slowly pulled the tiger out while Evelyn kept watch. Finally, he slid to the concrete ground, leaning upright against the side of the Jeep.
"He- hey, Calvin," he coughed.
"How bad?" Calvin asked.
Hobbes motioned at his chest, and Calvin carefully searched the fur. Anxiety welled up in him at seeing multiple bullet wounds among the tiger's bloodsoaked fur. "Crap…"
"Am I going to die?" Hobbes feebly asked.
"No, you theatrical furball," Calvin shook his head. "Evelyn, help me drag him to the back of the Jeep."
"You got it."
The Raiders weren't firing anymore, instead hiding around the entrance of the store, blocking their exit. The three of them, along with Hobbes, gathered together behind the Jeep, trapped.
"We can't get out," James said, and motioned towards Hobbes. "How bad off is he?"
"He'll survive," Calvin assured them, opening their first aid kit, courtesy of Evelyn. "It doesn't look like any of the bullets hit any important organs, thank goodness."
"Are they going to make a move?" Evelyn asked, watching the front of the store with her shotgun. "They're just sitting back there, waiting."
"Hey!" James yelled, making Calvin mentally facepalm. "Are you Raiders going to try and move up?"
The reply took a few seconds. "An' why would we? All we gotta do is wait here! Don't worry, Moe's about thirty minutes behind us, so he'll get here soon!
A few potshots ricocheted off of the ground. In response, Calvin fired back, before finishing up wrapping Hobbes' wounds in bandages. Uttering a heavy sigh, Calvin slumped against a nearby aisle.
"Calvin, what do we do?" Evelyn asked, scanning the entrance of the shop. "Moe's going to be here any minute."
"We have to get out," Calvin told her. "Stay here and keep them away. I'll see if there's a back entrance. We can circle around behind them."
In the darkness of the store, Calvin looked, and was relieved to find a door that, through the hole where the doorknob should have been, revealed light on the other side. He pushed open, slowly in case a Raider was watching the back, when suddenly it banged against something metal, going no further. He looked through the slight opening, and his relief vanished at seeing an overflowing dumpster sitting in the door's way. He tried to open the door further, throwing his full weight against it, but it didn't work.
"Dammit!" he cursed, banging a fist on the door's surface. Maybe Evelyn, with her smaller size, could fit through and help unblock the door. Hearing more shots, he was about to run back and grab her when the flapping of wings made him stop and look again.
A crow had perched on a low-hanging power line, and was looking at him through its shiny, dark eyes. No, not one crow. Several.
More flapping, and suddenly, six more mutated corvids landed outside, all staring at him.
Suddenly, they erupted into an off-key chorus of loud, piercing caws, and then, through the crack of the door, Calvin saw the light fade. For a moment he wasn't sure what the cause was, before his eyes adjusted to the hundreds of flapping wings rising up from outside. Their cacephony of caws split through the air, and Calvin shut the door as the crows nearest to him suddenly pounced on him, flying straight for the door in a savage frenzy.
No sooner had he done so than the door banged several times as the skeletal yet powerful bodies of the murder crows slammed against it. Grabbing a nearby chair, he propped it up against the door so that it couldn't be easily opened and ran back to his companions.
"Guys, get in the jeep and get that road flare I told you about! It's under the front seat! Go!"
"Why?" Evelyn asked.
"Just do it! Now!" Calvin urged, and helped Hobbes into the back seat. James fired his M-16 several times, and all of them managed to get in.
Suddenly, a terrible pain shot through Calvin's upper left arm as something fired. He cried out in pain, grabbing at the arm which only served to make it worse. He realized through his sudden anguish that one of the Raiders had scored a hit on him.
"Calvin!" Hobbes gasped.
"I'm fine!" he shouted, anger swelling up inside of him at the pain that clouded his thinking. "Get that road flare and light it!"
"How do you light it?" he heard Evelyn ask, before the sky outside became dim and birdlike shrieks polluted their ears. All of them realized at that moment the danger that was about to crash down on them… literally.
"Here, give me that!" he heard Jameson say, and outside, the terrified cries of the raiders just barely managed to reach him over the noise. Outside, he saw the flock of murder crows descend upon the store, and saw a raider raise a rifle in a futile attempt to kill the birds. A score of crows descended on him before he could fire, and the shredded shrieks of the man split through the calamity as the entrance of the store was filled with black feathers and bloody beaks.
Just then, Jameson ignited the flare, and its intense red light reflected off of the swarm of black that threatened to envelop them. Smoke filled the store, causing everyone to cough violently. The piercing screams of the unprotected raiders were quickly lost in the frenzy of the flock, which was only held back by the light and smoke of the flare clasped in Jameson's hand. Its red-white flash served as a shield against the crows, who, unable to see any further prey due to the light, started to leave the store.
Blinded and unable to breathe from the smoke, they soon flew away as quickly as they came, a cloud of darkness flying off across the sky. Still, Jameson held the flare aloft, not wanting to take the chance of a few stray murder crows left somewhere in the area. With the entrance now clear from the wall of birds, the smoke dissipated, and everyone found that they could finally breathe fully again.
Finally, after what must have been a quarter hour, the flare's sizzling stopped, and its bright glow died down. Coughing, wounded, half-blinded, and almost asphyxiated, Calvin, Hobbes, Jameson, and Evelyn lay down in the Jeep, unable to move.
After a few minutes, Calvin tried to right himself, and succeeded after a few attempts. Around him, his companions did the same. Hobbes let out a groan as he sat upright, reminding Calvin that they needed to get to New York City, stat.
"Okay," he said, and found his voice to be a lot more soprano than he would have liked. He cleared his throat, coughed, and tried again. "Okay. You guys all good?"
"We'll be fine," James said. "Does the Jeep run?"
Calvin turned on the ignition, and after a few feeble sputterings, the engine finally started up.
"Alright," Calvin said, "We're about an hour away from NYC. Moe's probably right behind us now, so we don't stop until we're behind those walls. We can get medical attention for all of us, and then we find a place to stay."
"If you want, I can take the wheel," James said. "You look rather bad off."
Calvin stopped, and considered the offer for a few seconds, before opening his door and slowly staggering out. James did the same, and the two switched places. As they walked around the jeep, they did their best to avoid looking at the several pink-tinged skeletons lying on the ground, their mouths open in screams. Ripped to shreds alive.
"Here," Evelyn said as soon as he got in the back. Calvin shifted, and let her work on fixing up his shot arm, which hadn't yet been treated. James stepped on the gas, and slammed against the Humvee, still parked in front of them. Slowly, it rolled back into the parking lot, and finally, the Jeep moved onto the road of the abandoned town, onto the highway, and back on the path to New York City.
Not ten miles behind was Moe and his pack of raiders, and they were closing in fast.
New York City was known as a bastion. An impenetrable fortress. The last remaining city standing against the savagery of the wastelands that took up almost all of the United States, and for good reason.
The city had been turned into a stronghold, its factories, skyscrapers, and harbor surrounded by several lines of defense. The land around its borders was heavily mined- a part of a larger operation by the U.S military attempting to keep the enemy from taking the strategically important city, along with tank traps and barbed wire. The waters around its harbor were mined as well, though they now posed a few problems for the city's ships and fishing boats.
A large, thirty-foot tall steel fence, covered with concertina wire, served to mark the borders of the city. The ground around it was protected by wire as well, making any attempts to break in- or out- extremely difficult. But the fence looked like a simple challenge in comparison to the gigantic city walls. Three times the height of the fence, they were made out of concrete, brick, stone, and mortar, with hundreds of towers along its length. It resembled the walls of an ancient city during the crusades, but with a modern, uniform look. At the top patrolled soldiers, looking for anyone trying to sneak in, and for anyone trying to get out. It resembled the Scrappertown, but was much larger and had a cleaner look.
Through all of this was a road. A well-kept stretch of highway that was the only way in or out. A guard station was situated close to the giant gate at the end, and dozens of the city's soldiers were sitting around, watching for any cars coming their way.
By the station, in a tall, wooden tower sat a guard, lighting a cigarette. They had been watching the road for a few days now, but nothing had showed itself besides the occasional feral mutant. So, he was surprised when, looking out across the yellow hills again, he saw a small speck moving towards them.
"Vehicle sighted!" he shouted, rousing his fellow men to attention. Grabbing his rifle, he watched the speck moving closer and closer, until he could finally see what it was. The sight made him inhale in astonishment.
A Jeep rolled up to the gate, its surface scratched, shot, and torn, its windows almost nonexistent. The thing resembled a colander more than it did a vehicle. Looking at it again, the guard noticed that one of its wheels was flat, and that a steady stream of fuel was leaking from its tank. At his captain's orders, the occupants opened their doors and stepped out.
The first one surprised him; a teenage girl with wild auburn hair and cuts all across her arms. She looked tired, as though she had been carrying a large rock over her head for hours. Her hands were raw and bleeding, and scorch marks had blackened them slightly.
In front of her, climbing slowly out of the driver's seat was a young man wearing a brown jacket, with straw-like, spiked hair, and a red shirt. One of his arms was suspended in a bloody sling, and he was in the same condition as the girl, with cuts and bruises all across his body. Walking over to the other side of the Jeep, he opened the passenger door and helped out a… tiger.
Yes, a mutant tiger, his face contorted into a grimace as one hand clutched at a bandaged stomach. The young guard scowled at the feline, feeling somewhat annoyed that a mutant wanted to get into the city. But his attention was soon diverted by the last of the bunch. Climbing out of the back was a man, in his thirties and holding an M-16. He stopped as weapons were pointed at him, and slowly lowered the rifle to the ground.
"Hey, I get that back once we get in, right?" James asked as one of the guards grabbed the rifle and walked away with it.
"No weapons are allowed in the city," the officer in charge of the station said. "We're confiscating any firearms and ammunition in your possession."
"What?!"
"Do we get our guns back once we leave the city?" Calvin asked.
"Well, yes, but trust me. You're not going to want to leave," the man said, grinning. "I'm sure you'll be glad to finally live in a safe and secure place, after years of scrounging and scraping by in that wasteland. Now, there are a few papers and forms that I would like you to look at-"
"Do we get medical attention?" Evelyn asked. "Don't know if you noticed, but we're pretty bad off."
"Yes, there is medical attention inside of the walls. Mutant, I need you to read these forms right here." He handed Hobbes a sheet of paper. "You can read, right?"
"Or course I can," Hobbes said, shooting the man an annoyed glance, letting Jameson support him.
"Can't you just let us through?" Calvin asked.
"Sorry, no," the officer said. "We need you to read and sign these to make sure that you agree to follow the laws of the city, to agree to the confiscation of any weapons, and to exchange your current money for the city's currency, among other-"
"Listen," Calvin interrupted. "We're in a hurry. We have several Humvees chasing us. They're only a few miles back at most."
"Humvees?" the officer asked.
"Raiders. A whole band of them," Evelyn said. "They're right behind us. You have to let us through. They're not going to stop until we're in the city."
"Nonsense. Raiders wouldn't dare to attack New York's defenses. They know better. If you want to get in as fast as possible, read and sign those forms."
None of them wanted to tell the officer that the Raiders would do anything to capture them, as that might make him curious as to why they were being pursued. So, they did their best to sign the forms with their injuries, although Calvin still found the whole thing ridiculous. The process took awhile, and as they read, the guards searched the Jeep, confiscating several items, their ammo among them. Everything on the back of the jeep was unloaded, and the money box as well, since it was still out of its hiding spot. Calvin protested, but was assured that they would get New York City money in exchange. Still, Calvin didn't like it, since he and Hobbes would only be staying until Moe gave up and left. They would need those bottle caps again.
As Calvin signed the last form, becoming more and more nervous with each passing second, the officer's voice went, "Now, what is this?"
Everyone turned, and Calvin's heart beat twice as fast at seeing the computer chip in the officer's hand. Evelyn shifted her feet, looking at it worriedly, and Calvin guessed that she had gotten a pat down and the chip had been found. "That's a computer chip," he said. "What did you think?"
"What's it for?" the officer asked.
"I dunno," Calvin shrugged. "Maybe a remote controlled thing or… something. It's not important."
The officer stood there for a minute, looking at the computer chip, before shrugging. "Well, if it's not important, there's no reason for us to keep it." Without warning, he brought his arm back, and prepared to launch the chip into the barbed wire.
"No!" Evelyn squeaked at the last second, and the man stopped.
"What?" the officer asked. "It's just a computer chip, isn't it? Or is there something more to it?" Evelyn didn't say anything. She just glared at the officer with a thin frown.
"What's with the interest?" Hobbes asked. "It's a computer chip, and we'd rather hang on to it."
"Well…" the officer said, "There has recently been a specific request for computer chips from command, so if you don't mind, we'll hang onto this."
"No, you can't," Evelyn shook her head. "That's from my parents. They gave it to me right before they got killed. It's a final gift from them…I can't let you take it."
The officer stopped, and looked at Evelyn. He frowned as looked at the chip, then asked, "What's it for?"
"Don't know," Evelyn said. "They hid me and gave me the chip. I have no idea what it's for."
For a while, the man stood there, thinking. Finally, he sighed, and Calvin thought that maybe he'd be kind and give the chip back, make an exception. He took a step forward when suddenly, the guard on the watchtower yelled, "Vehicles!"
Everyone looked down the road, where two Humvees had stopped just down the road. Raiders were exiting the vehicles.
"Those are the Raiders!" Hobbes shouted, and at once, the guards rushed to defend the station. The Raiders brought up their rifles, and Calvin shouted, "Get to cover!"
The raiders fired first, and all around them, bullets impacted the jeep, the ground, and the guard station, sending the defenders scurrying for cover. Soon, however, they fired back, and it was the Raiders' turn to take cover. One of the Humvees began advancing, the driver ducking so as not to make himself a target. Behind the humvee were Raiders, using the vehicle as cover as they approached the station.
"Spread out!" the officer yelled. "Flank the vehicle!"
The guards began doing just that. By moving to the sides, they had a better shot at the raiders hiding behind the Humvee. As Calvin watched from behind the jeep, several Raiders fell out of cover, dead. The Humvee began backing up, and the other Humvee did the same. After a minute of retreating, the Raiders were much further down the road, out of rifle range. But it didn't look like they were leaving just yet.
"Let's get inside," Calvin shouted. "They're not going to stop until we're dead."
"Why are they chasing you?" the officer asked. "That's quite a bit of trouble you brought with you, and I want an explanation!"
"...They caught us by surprise," Calvin said, seeing that the man wouldn't take no for an answer. "We were at Toshka station when they appeared. We escaped them, and made our way to the city for protection from them."
"That doesn't explain why they felt the need to keep chasing you all the way here," the officer said.
"Sir?" one of the guards said. "There's some movement amongst the raiders."
"Give me a minute. Keep an eye on them," the officer said. "So?"
"Their leader was someone that I once knew," Calvin said. "He wants to kill me. Take revenge for what I did."
"What did you do?" the man asked.
"Sir," the guard said, "they're getting out what seems to be some sort of weapon."
"Why are you so interested?" Calvin asked.
"You're a security risk," the officer said.
"Sir, one of them is preparing the weapon! It's some sort of-"
"Excuse me?" Calvin asked. "What have I done to become a risk to you?"
"You've led a band of Raiders to this guard station," the officer said. "You're keeping information from me. And you brought a possibly unstable mutant with you, and want to bring him in!"
"Did you just call me unstable?!" Hobbes asked.
"Sir!" the guard exclaimed.
"What?" the officer asked.
"The Raiders are aiming…" the man trailed off. "COVER!"
Suddenly, Calvin heard a hiss, like an air compressor being unplugged, and then his vision exploded.
He didn't remember much afterwards. A few moments of consciousness, nothing more. A burning wreckage. Being hoisted up. The smell of gas, and… sanitizer. Voices talking, shouting, whispering. A jumble of smells and sounds that Calvin couldn't figure out.
Finally, he woke up. His eyes were still closed, but he could feel the pain. His head felt like an overinflated balloon. A sudden surge circulated through it, and a stabbing sensation made him weakly groan. He stopped himself, and waited for the headache to go away. It did, after a few minutes, and he focused on all the other parts that hurt. He moved his arms and legs slightly. He seemed to be in one piece, but found that he still couldn't open his eyes, which frustrated him. In fact, his entire face seemed to be slightly numb. He wiggled around slightly, and concluded from the rustling sounds and comfortable surface that he was in a bed. Most likely in some hospital.
After what felt like hours, the numbness went away, and Calvin understood why it was there. Painkiller. His face felt like it was mutilated, which, come to think of it, was probably what had happened. Most likely the explosion had…
Oh, no. What had exploded?
He finally opened his eyelids, and winced at the increase in light. It went away, and he shifted so that he could look around better. He was correct in his assumption that he was in a bed, but this place didn't look like a hospital. The room he was in was concrete, with no windows, just a string of lamps across the length of an arched ceiling. A dozen other beds filled up the room; only one or two others were occupied.
For a second, he became worried. Here he was, lying in a bed in some room that could be anywhere, with no idea how long he had been out or where everyone else was. Was he in some sort of prison? Was-
The door to the room opened, and Calvin looked over to see a relieving sight. "Hobbes," he croaked.
Hobbes stopped and looked at him Calvin noticed that he was wearing a considerably sized bandage that covered part of his stomach. "Hey, you're awake! Have a nice sleep?"
"Yes, actually," Calvin nodded. It was true. He hadn't gotten much shut-eye amongst the last few action-packed days. "How are you doing? Where's Jameson and Evelyn?"
"I'm good. The doctors dug out the bullet and wrapped it up well. I wish they'd done it a little more carefully. Still hurts like hell. Jameson and Evelyn are just outside. They're all patched up."
Thank Goodness. "How long have I been out?" Calvin asked.
"Almost the whole day," Hobbes said, limping over. "You were pretty close to the explosion when it happened."
"Wait… what happened?" he asked. "I remember hissing, and then something exploded but…" he trailed off, noticing Hobbes' sympathetic, worried expression. "Don't tell me…"
Hobbes nodded.
"The Jeep?" he asked, just to make sure.
"Yeah."
"Well… shit."
"Yeah."
"...Where are we?" Calvin asked.
"Just inside the walls. Me and Jameson managed to get past the rest of the entry process. We're in a small hospital for treating injured arrivals," Hobbes said. "We're actually doing better than you'd think. I mean, our means of transport is gone and most of our supplies-"
Calvin let out a long groan.
"-but we have the money box, some food that we salvaged, and none of us are dead. That's a pretty good outcome after pretty much getting blown up by a missile launcher."
"A what?" Calvin asked, when the door suddenly opened and Evelyn walked in, a plastic bag in one hand.
"Hey, Evelyn," Calvin nodded.
"How are you doing, Calvin?" she asked, smiling. "Great to see you better. Did Hobbes tell you about-"
"Yeah."
"Well, at least you're-"
"Well! Look who's alive!" Jameson said, appearing in the doorway.
"Jameson," Calvin greeted him, surprised. "I thought you would have left by now. Did you already pay us?"
"Well…" Hobbes interrupted. "Actually, that's a good time to tell you."
"Tell me what?" Calvin asked, confused and slightly suspicious.
"We were thinking of changing the deal a bit, considering the circumstances," Hobbes said. "After all, now that we don't have the Jeep, it looks like we're going to have to stay here a while longer. If so, we're probably gonna need a lot more money to get situated."
"...Which we can get from Jameson… right?" Calvin asked.
But, if we do that, James isn't going to have a lot of his own money to get settled here," Evelyn explained.
"Well, I'm afraid that's your problem," Calvin immediately said. "You made this deal with us. All of this is just business, right? We get you in, you pay us."
Jameson was quiet. He frowned, but didn't say anything.
"I like him," Evelyn suddenly said. "I'd like for us to stick together. We already came up with a new deal."
"And what's this new deal?" Calvin asked, becoming increasingly frustrated.
"We were considering pooling our money together," Hobbes said. "That way, we can all support each other and help out, which would make looking for a job somewhere a lot easier. It could also mean that all of us can get jobs, which brings us more money to buy a vehicle to get out sometime down the road. And…" he scratched the back of his head. "...and I kind of like the idea of James sticking with us. I trust him. And besides. If he double-crosses us-"
"-which I won't-" Jameson interjected.
"-then where would he go?" Hobbes asked. "We're in a walled-off city. It really does seem like a good idea to all of us."
"So you just changed the whole deal?" Calvin asked, angry. "Just went ahead with it?!"
"No! We haven't decided on it yet," Hobbes said. "We didn't want to exclude you, so we've been waiting for you to wake up."
For a while, Calvin didn't say anything. He was still furious, but eventually it subsided. He hated the idea of partnering up with Jameson. He was a scrapper. Scrappers lied. Cheated. But… Hobbes was right. They had never attempted living like this, Jameson had. The Scrappertown was exactly that: a town. And as much as he hated staying in this city-fortress, they had no other option. They would need some support to find a way to live here.
He also didn't want to be like some boss, accepting and refusing things and making everyone go along with what he wanted. If Hobbes and Evelyn were on-board with the idea (and it was an alright idea, he supposed), then…
"Alright, fine," Calvin nodded. "I see why you guys are considering it." He pushed the covers off of him to find that he was missing his shirt and jacket. He could deal with that later. He went to get up, then stopped and touched a hand to his forehead.
"You feel alright?" Hobbes asked, looking at the bandages on his upper body.
"I'm fine," he said, waiting for the sudden dizziness to dissipate. "Anyway, if you guys think this deal is the best way, then I'll go along with it."
"Awesome!" Jameson exclaimed. "Well then, we still have a few things to do. They want us to exchange our caps for the city's currency, finish the immigration process, and get registered, whatever that entails. After all that, we can find a place to stay. Sounds good?"
"Yeah, let's not waste time," Calvin agreed, and looked at Hobbes and Evelyn. "You guys ready?"
"Pretty much," Evelyn nodded, and handed him the plastic bag. "Here's all the stuff they had to take to treat your wounds.
"Thanks," Calvin said, and sighed. They had come a long way the last few days. Evelyn, Moe, the Raiders, the rainstorm, the Scrappertown, James… now they had made it to the inside of the Rotten Apple. Inside, he was worried. He never liked staying somewhere. It settled into a boring routine, slowly withering away along with the rest of the place. He already missed driving the Jeep every day, sharing his suffering and silence with Hobbes's. Finding and trading junk, scraps, gazing over vast, awesomely dismal landscapes…
He snapped back to attention. They would resume that life once they found a new vehicle. And dreaming about it wasn't going to help. Donning his shirt and jacket, he said, "Let's go."
He would need all of his mind focused on the problems and dangers that this city would inevitably harbor.
Well, at least he wasn't alone.
For those who are wondering, the quote on Jameson's book is from The Alchemist.
:D