Wasteland Wonderland - Part 1 Read Online Free

heap. I step over his body and slide
the door open.
    Standing near the entrance is the lovely
owner and operator of this prestigious establishment.
    Lisa says, “Oh, Hector. I’m sorry. Did Sammy
give you some trouble?”
    “Kid needs to lay off the juice. Messes with
his ability to think straight.”
    “He’s new. He’s from the Narrow Canyon. He
didn’t know no better.”
    “Narrow Canyon? How’d he get so big living in
the Narrow Canyon?”
    “He’s not a goldfish, Hector.”
    “No, he is not. And I’m guessing you’ve been
feeding him well.”
    “Like you said, maybe he needs to lay off the
juice.”
    “I’m usually right about these things.”
    “You’re not here to cause trouble, are
you?”
    “Me? Never. I’m just looking for a
friend.”
    “Well, it seems you’re quite the popular
fellow tonight. Had a few people asking about you.”
    “Just a few?”
    “More than a few.”
    She motions with her head towards the
back.
    “Carriage ten?” I ask.
    “Of course.”
    “Thanks, Lisa. You’re the best. I’ll try not
to make a mess.”
    “Appreciate it.”
    I make my way towards the tenth and final
carriage, towards the darkness. It’s around about the eighth
carriage where I start to get maybe a little worried. It’s more
crowded than usual.
    I’m walking into a bottleneck. A kill box.
The perfect place for an ambush.
    Oh well. Nothing to do but keep going.
    In the ninth carriage I start to notice
people walking the opposite way, heading for the exit.
    I enter the tenth carriage.
    Usually the music is loud back here, usually
the atmosphere is wild and crazy.
    The carriage door slides shut behind me.
    There is no music.
    No smoke.
    No one is drinking.
    All eyes are on me.
    And I say, “You all know who I am. I’m not in
the business of killing Mercs.”
    To my right, a mouthy little fucker by the
name of Will says, “Hector, you’ve got a price on your head. A big
fucking price. And we’re in the business of getting paid.”
    There’s ten… maybe twelve guys in this
carriage. I don’t want to fight them all. I don’t want to kill them
all.
    Not yet.
    I show them the gun in the waist of my
pants.
    Will stumbles back.
    And everyone stumbles back.
    None of them are packing heat like this. They
can’t afford weapons. Or ammo. And it looks like the Enforcers
aren’t supplying these guys, at least not with guns.
    I take my brother’s exquisite gun out and
show them the barrel. I give them a good look at it.
    I point the gun at Will. “Forget the price on
my head. If you don’t give me some answers, there’ll be a big
fucking hole in your head.”
    Will has his hands up. Self-preservation is a
wonderful thing. He points towards the back of the carriage,
sitting at the far end of the bar is a man who has to be an
Enforcer. I say he has to be because he’s the only one who’s not
afraid of the gun.
    The Mercs leave us alone for the time being.
I know they won’t leave me alone for good. I saw the desperate look
in their eyes, in Will’s eyes. They want to get paid. They need to get paid.
    I know I will have to deal with them
eventually.
    Anyway, me and my new best friend exit the
rear of the car. And now that we’re in the tunnel, moving away from
the train, it’s getting darker. Somewhere ahead, a few miles maybe,
is a reinforced concrete slab and a brick wall. Maybe a few other
traps.
    This is supposed to make everyone in the
Buried City feel safe.
    It doesn’t.
    “You ever been down here?” I ask the
Enforcer. “You ever seen the barricade fail?”
    He shakes his head.
    “The things that come out of the tunnels,” I
say. “Out of the dark… it’ll make a grown man cry. Hell, it’ll make
a grown man piss his pants.”
    “Then it’s a good thing I’m packing heat,” he
says, showing me a kind of gun I’ve never seen before.
    “Must be nice,” I say. “Living in Wonderland.
Having access to weaponry like that.”
    He ignores me, ignores my small talk. I am
not