- Proverbs 23:13-14 King James Bible
“It was a ploy, it was totally a plot. Paul confessed to Jenna because he wanted to show that she wasn’t loyal to Henry. It wasn’t a real confession, it was a test and she failed it. ” Abel argues.
“And I’m saying that I understand it was a ploy, but that some of those feelings were real. You just have to look at the anonymous roses he sends on her birthday.” I fire back, even though I’m not one of the people who wants them to get together.
Abel raises his brow “Weren’t those the roses that the assassin of plants used to almost kill her?”
“C’mon dude, he had no way of knowing the Secret Society of Botanists would stoop so low. The assassin incident was even why he denounced them at the charity ball.” I rebut, having reread the released volumes several times to pick out all the details.
“Okay okay, I concede he might have some feelings. I don’t think it’s as deep as love, I’ve sent presents to some of my exes after we broke up. I even had a massive breakup with this one girl Cheryl, but I still got her these new sneakers she wanted cause she was so excited about them and-” he rambles.
“Abel.” I cut in.
“Oh right, where were we?” He responds sheepishly.
I let him go off topic for about fifteen minutes the first time it happened until he realized he’d completely lost his train of thought. He told me to cut him off if he started rambling again since he found it frustrating when discussing stuff. I figure as long as he doesn’t mind being interrupted, I’d oblige.
“Actually I think we need to start packing if we want to be ready to leave by tomorrow.” I say with a sigh.
“Ah, time to get out of here then. Was nice chatting and thanks again for letting me borrow volume three.” He responds cheerfully with a tip of his cowboy hat. It reminds me that he recommended a bunch of these old films called ‘Westerns’ when I asked about it.
“Yeah yea, no problem. Was nice talking to you too.” I wave him off as I get ready to leave my sadness cocoon.
Truth is I’ve not been doing great. Not terrible, but also not great. I spent almost the entire rest of the time in Santa Fe since my shopping trip wrapped up in a blanket and binge reading. Fortunately Kayla and Abel have both been dropping by to hang out. If not for them I would have probably not spoken to anyone for the rest of our time here.
Once I gear back up I’ll be Hunter Alex again and that Alex has her shit together. At least more than I do now. First things first, I need to check over my gear.
Reluctantly peeling my blanket off and hopping over to the guild trunk, I pop the massive metal chest open and start sorting through my stuff. The snares and bear traps are still sitting in their case next to the ammo box for my handgun. A thick canvas bag lays beside them, the one I usually carry with me. It's still holding the pouch with my personal effects like my makeup and first aid kits along with my tapedeck and a couple other boredom relievers.
It's when I get to my explosives case that I run into issues, I'm down two frag grenades and both dazzlers so all that's left are the flashbangs. I also blew through most of my tannerite and C4 on stress relief last week, demoing old cars and buildings outside Dallas.
A wand would have been cheaper… nope not going down that rabbit hole again.
Heh, rabbit.
Getting my thoughts back on track it's looking like it's time to hit the guild store. There's only a minor snag when I go to put on my fatigues, a wave of apprehension freezing my limbs as soon as I grab the heavy outfit. Thinking about it won't fix anything though and I'd rather not be hanging around in a tank top and spats for long so I force the armored clothes on like ripping off a band-aid.
The overthinking is always the worst part.
I ignore the slick feeling on my skin, the fatigues can't still be soaked in blood, they were washed and repaired right after the mission. My brain is just being a piece of shit and doesn't deserve to be acknowledged.
Slipping out the front of the dorms, I hop onto the first trolley that passes by, settling into the armored shell I've so missed recently. The ride over being almost pleasant this time around. It doesn't take long before the ornate museum comes into view, the front entrance being a short walk from my stop. I hook left after entering, moving toward the sign for the armory and feeling a pang of regret when I spot the poster for the Roc feather exhibit.
Maybe on the trip back.
There’s a serious looking guy with spectacles behind a mix of bullet proof glass and metal caging at the counter of the armory. He’s focused intently on a clipboard, not a single other person around to disturb him. As I’m walking up my eyes jump to the array of weapons on the wall behind him, my jaw almost dropping to the floor when I spot the M72 LAW.
That thing is practically an antique!
Now that I’m aware of it, I start noticing that most of the weapons on the wall are ancient. A PTRS-41 anti-tank rifle, a Milkor grenade launcher, there’s even a musket.
“Looking for self defense? A rocket can take out a mugger or two,” a monotone voice says, knocking me out of my daze.
His voice is so deadpan that it takes me a second to register that he was making a joke.
“No, uh not today anyway. I have a few things I need, let’s see. Two M67s or DM41s, two dazzlers, and a SIP if you have one.” I spout out, rattling off my mental shopping list.
The guy behind the counter raises an eyebrow at me before heading into the back, unlocking a steel door to a storage area. I'm not sure why I always get strange looks when I buy explosives, more people should be using them in my opinion. I scan over the ancient weapons exhibit during the few minutes wait, salivating over the thought of blasting a necrophage with a rocket while examining the LAW.
In no time at all the guy returns from the back room hefting a crate onto the desk in front of the counter. He starts placing my items while stating their price.
“Two grenada thirty marks each, two dazzlers twenty marks each, and we do have an incendiary but it’s for mission supply only. Sorry, can't bend the rules even for pretty girls. Total comes out to two hundred and fifty marks.”
Oof, that's pricey.
I’m back down to four hundred sixty marks after this and wishing I wasn't always on the verge of bankruptcy. I flash my hunter’s badge and slide the money under the gap in the window and he starts sliding my stuff to me after he confirms the amount.
“Sure I can’t interest you in a grenade launcher or two? More boom, more fun. Could go to the range together to test one out.” He says, giving me one of those customer service smiles.
Not really in the mood to hit the range right now.
“No, no I’m good. Thanks.” I grab my stuff and give a little wave goodbye, sorting through my head on what else I need to do.
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I’m a little sad about being in a hurry since I would have asked about the guns and such if I had more time. I love learning about pre-apoc stuff, everything seemed so different back then, it's like there’s always something new or strange to discover.
Oh well, focus Alex, you’ve been slacking lately.
There's a gym with an obstacle course nearby that I need to hit up and I'm hoping to wind down with a book before I go to sleep.
I have regrets.
I was trying to kill time until I needed to fall asleep so I was rereading ‘The Werebear, The Basement, And Me’, but I got absorbed in it and ended up staying up until two in the morning. Now I’m operating on four hours of sleep, which is doable but I hate not being at one hundred percent for any mission. That’s how people get killed.
It doesn’t help that I can hear the other hunters arguing about me.
“Am I supposed to forget when she kicked me in the balls for trying to help her up!? Fuck, I can’t believe you’re falling for her act!” Zachary angrily shouts.
“I’m not saying people can’t change, but I have to agree with Zack. Katie was depressed for weeks after she torched her bible and she didn't even apologize. It’s hard to believe she suddenly changed.” Dominque adds.
“Thank you, at least someone listens.” Zachary says in a frustrated tone. “She's just trying to get special treatment again, like with the showers and changing room.”
“She saved me from the Sandworms Dom, risked herself to push me out of the way when I almost got eaten. Hell she saved your asses too, when she jumped into the swarm of worms for you.” Abel argues. Dominique is still in his suit so it’s hard to gauge his reaction, but Zachary is clearly not convinced.
“I performed a mission together with Alex, she is a trustworthy companion. Her previous actions do not fit with her current behavior and I would not hold her to that.” Kayla interjects, which only seems to set Zachary off.
“Of course you would side with her.” he replies snidely. Even Dominique appears to have been caught off guard by that.
“What do you mean by that?” Dominique questions, turning his head to face Zachary.
“I’m saying she’s had it out for me since we formed a team, so of course she’d disagree with anything I said. Whatever, I’m hopping in the Humvee. Think about who your real friends are Dom, unless you wanna get stabbed in the back again.” Zachary rants before heading off in a huff.
Dominique starts scratching his head, seemingly out of habit, which doesn’t really work with his suit. “Sorry guys, I should check on him. We can table this for another time.”
“That went well,” Abel says with a sigh.
“Dominique’s choice of friends is ever frustrating,” Kayla remarks.
“Kayla, we’re Dom’s friends.”
“I would think it implied that we are the exception.”
Abel pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly not having a good morning.
I’d love to stay and chat with them, but I’m cutting it close on packing so I just call out and wave before making a b-line for my assigned vehicle. Fortunately it’s Carl again so I can skip the introductions and get right to shoving stuff in the back.
“Hey kid, you ready to pass near the Albuquerque anomalous zone.” Carl says, eyeing me through the rearview mirror.
“Absolutely not, but I’m as prepared as I can be.” I say as I pat the pack near my feet.
“Well said. Nothing can truly prepare you for that, it’s not a fun place.” he responds in a grim tone.
With that cheery warning, our departure time comes up and we’re rolling through the massive city gates once again. There’s only four humvees this time, two hunters in front, two hunters in the rear, one in each of the middle two, and a driver and gunner from the militia in each vehicle.
Each outpost and city is designed to be self-sufficient since transport is dangerous and unpredictable so our cargo tends to be weapons or hard to find materials. I can’t imagine riding in one of the big supply convoys, but that’s only for the tier five and up, the veterans. I won’t have to worry about that for a long time.
The moment we get out of the Santa Fe outskirts the greenery in the area seems to just die. Instead of the mix of dirt and plants, it’s sandy hills and gravel going on for kilometers. The same scene over and over again, not a great view. I keep an eye out on the horizon and decide to pass some time with small talk.
“So Carl, how’d you get stuck as a convoy driver for the militia?” I ask.
“Oh, you know how it is. You get married early and have three kids and suddenly things get real expensive. I was already nearing the end of my mandatory service when I hit tier three, the humvee motors are tier four and I have a Crystalline core so I applied for a spot.” He replies wistfully.
“Sounds like a lot of time away from home.” I say, curious how a family man like him ended up in a long distance job.
“It’s on and off. I leave for a couple weeks at a time, but get to stay for a couple weeks too. Time I get to spend with my family. So it turns out pretty well I’d say. Pay is good too.” He remarks with a chuckle.
I give an affirmative nod “Glad it worked out for you.”
The idle chatter cuts out when the dark cloudy vortex that hovers above Albuquerque comes into view. The glowing hole in the sky just gets more and more ominous the closer we get and I grip my seat tightly as we start rolling into the edges of the ruined city. Nothing can really prepare you for an anomalous zone.
It’s like a scene ripped right out of an old pre-apoc movie. There are people walking on the sidewalks, going into the stores, talking to each other. As if nothing is wrong and the city is still like it used to be; it’s downright bizarre. If not for the twisted heaps of debris that used to be buildings and the people phasing through solid objects, it would look like any other city.
Thankfully we don't run into any trouble as we get closer to the city center. I read up a little on the place before we left Dallas, seemed prudent at the time. Supposedly Albuquerque was one of the first anomalous zones discovered, and the government decided to poke at it, with magic. A couple of experiments later and you get, well, whatever the hell a giant city folding in on itself and echoing forever with the screams of the people who died there is called. There were some rumors they were going to rename it ‘The City of Eternal Torment”, but as far as I’m aware everyone still calls it Albuquerque.
The metal in the city center looks alive and the screams never stop, so we’re skirting around the edge to avoid it. Even being this far away it's a terrifying sight, the thought of being trapped in a never ending cycle of torture sending chills through me.
We continue rolling along through an eerie recreation of suburban life. It’s almost peaceful in a way, watching all the echoes of people living their everyday life.
Is this how the world would have looked without mana?
A sudden movement catches my eye as I watch a ghostly child chase a ball into the street and right in front of a humvee. I quickly turn away to avoid seeing the gruesome sight, but there's no sound and when I turn around there's no sign of the kid at all either. Not even a moment later every single phantom turns to us, their mouths open impossibly far in a silent scream, and they point.
At first nothing happens, then guilt slams into me like a physical force. Everything I've ever felt guilty about is dragged through me like it’s evidence to pass judgement on my existence. My eternal soul is on trial and everyone I’ve ever wronged is its judge and jury. My every mistake is on display, dissected, analyzed, and condemned. It is excruciating.
We raised you better than this
You betrayed us
Your perversion hurts everyone around you
Selfish
Worthless
Abomination
Failure
There’s nothing I can ever do to fix it, I’m a screw up, it hurts so much and it feels like the walls are closing in and there’s no escape from my guilt. I’ve been a screw up all my life and I’ll never be anything else. My existence is harm and the world is worse with me in it. There’s only one thing I can do to fix things, even just a little so I reach into my pack and pull out my beretta.
Just one thing I can do.
Then a wave of something washes over me and it stops.
“W-what, what was I about to do?” I stare at my shaking hands holding the gun with disgust and shame oozing through me in a sludgy mass.
“Nothing good. Sorry kiddo, there’s no stopping now, that ritual put us on a time limit to get out of here.” Carl explains in a soft voice, but my brain isn’t processing anything right now. I’m just staring at the gun in my hands, unable to think or move. I feel hollowed out.
I barely recognize when we barrel onto the highway and finally get far enough away from the zone to be safe. A kind of safe anyway. I slap my cheeks to feel the sting.
Alive, I’m alive and we’re past the worst part. Come on Alex, get your shit together, you’re a hunter.
Forcing air into my lungs in deep shuddering breaths, my spiraling thoughts keep returning to that moment. For a second I was back there, in that place I never wanted to be again. In a state of mind I'd hoped to never fall into once more.
Alright, alright, I’m good, we’re good. Everything is fine, everything is okay. It's all going to be okay.