F A D E- New Kansas Read online

  “Who is it? What is it? And who the shit are you?”.

  “It's Test, now open the goddamned door Gooner before I break it in with you behind it” John proclaims.

  “all right, all right I'm just doing my job Test” Gooner replies after having a good look and realizing it's John.

  After all the clanging and crashing of locks the door is released and it finally opens. John pushes past Gooner and heads on down the narrow corridor and towards another metal door.

  “Wait wait, I gotta get ya the key first” Gooner chases, leaving the main door unlocked.

  John turns to face a now worried looking Gooner who stumbles with the keys but finally manages to get the right one in and open the next area.

  “Where is he?” Test asks.

  "Where's who John?" Gooner nervously asks.

  “Hark, dipshit. The guy you work for, who would you think I'm looking for?” John now looking stern.

  “Oh yeah, he's in the training area, he's been waiting for you Test, something to do with The Eight or somethin. Good luck, you’re gonna need it!” Gooner replied.

  John looks at him with a raised eyebrow which quickly turns to doubt, he dumps the creep from his shoulders and in front of Gooner, he folds up like an accordion at his feet.

  "Take him out back Gooner". John demanded.

  Entering the dull concrete room John notices through the pipes that Hark has captured three men and is beating into them. Two of the men are hung upside down like dead cattle left out to bleed and the other is strapped to a chair. Shackled by old chains, the men groan as Hark hits them one by one, chuckling to himself as he strikes them.

  "So you got them yet Johnny boy?" Hark stops for a moment to ask John.

  "I am assuming you mean the Eight? or you mean the dirt bag I just delivered?" John asked.

  "A bit of both really John, I knew you could get that low level douchebag no problem, but what I really want is the big boys" Hark said laying another stiff jab to the face of the captured.

  "Of course I don't have them. I'm gonna need men if you want all of them. None of that shit you gave me last time. They would have been more use if you gave them to me dead. Oh and that thing that we spoke about? It's out back now." John retorts.

  "You are a lifesaver Johnny, I needed that guy dead to stop Shaw complaining in Little London, he paid us to get the job done as the creep was causing problems in the underground, taking women and killing off people who lived on the outskirts of town. You did the world some good today. Anyway seriously what the fuck are you doing back here without the Eight? People pay for my protection and I ain't able to give it with those crazies running loose out there." Hark quaffed.

  "Have you seen them move? Some of them are too much for me to take on my own. I am the best out there but even I have limits… Just give me the cash Reilly, and stop beating on those greeners, put them outta their misery" John demanded.

  Riley doesn't look surprised by John's remark as they had known each other for some time. John stares blankly into the eyes of a worried man. One of the three men let out a snigger which broke the stare down. Hark turned to charge and struck the offender in the throat with a flat hand tipping him over the chair and onto the cold concrete floor. John turned out to walk away giving Hark and the three men one last look of distaste.

  "Assemble your own team John, I will make sure they get their dues. or else this town is gonna be empty. Oh and Gooners got ya money John." Hark proclaimed.

  As John makes his way out Gooner runs in front to greet him at the entrance with a hand full of cash. John takes the cash from Gooners hands and grunt.

  “Got any trades?” John asked scowling at the fistful of bills.

  “Only told to give you the cash” said Gooner.

  “Next time let’s do food and ammo yeah?” John said unimpressed but excepting.

  "You’re welcome John, see you another time I guess" said Hark with a crazed look in his eyes.

  John takes a deep breath in as he stands outside and stares down the main street. Making your way down Rustlers is never easy but John takes it in his stride. Looking at the dimly lit street he sees a flickering light at the end. Sounds of bins tumbling and papers rustling disturbs what should be a deadly silence area. John takes no notice and continues onwards taking every step of the next thousand yards in large open strides, banging his boots on the cracked concrete paving slabs one after the other. John walked for an hour without interruption, pondering the loss of his wife and daughter. Exploring the blank space in his mind where memories should have been.

  John took a left on Monarch and towards a place he thought he knew. As he gets closer he recognizes the trademarks of an old friend. The Inn was of the old style and still standing. Green wooden beams lay across the white stone of the outer face and the still strong old English oak front door lay firmly shut. The outer perimeter of this pub is laden with a wire mesh fence kept in place by steel poles held securely in the ground with concrete. John approached the only gate entrance to the outer perimeter and a face he recognized appeared from the dark to greet him. A tall man standing about six foot eight inches, wearing a black leather jacket, tight blue jeans and greased brown hair combed to his larger than normal head strolled up to the gate wielding a lumberjack's axe.

  “Hey Fonzie, is Marko about?” John asked with a smirk on his face.

  “Nah he's sleepin right now John, but I can let you in if you wanna bed?" Fonzie replied.

  Fonzie fondled with the padlock typing in the gate code and unjamming the rusting lock hook. He pulled out the remaining chain from the fence and gate and threw the thick links on the ground. John wandered through and Fonzie closed the gate behind him.

  “Hey, Fonz I gotta big job coming up, you fancy a bit of the action?” John asked Fonz closing the gate behind him.

  “Well that depends on the job I guess John” Fonzies face turns sceptical and he clenches his fists.

  “I am going to have to speak with Marko about this one first then get back to you on the details, but I could use an axe wielding maniac with me for a job this big” said John.

  “Yeah, yeah what's the job Test?” Fonzie insisted.

  “Ahh just a little op to take out The Eight” John pauses for dramatic effect.

  “What!?...are you nuts? I have been wanting to get back at those dicks forever! Well ever since they took my brother back in fifteen” Fonz proclaimed.

  “Well there's a fair price on each of their heads if you want in Fonz we can split it up three ways. Hark has put a price on a couple, I know Shaw in London has a couple of contracts. Also I think Kam or some other contact in the South has something for those guys” said John.

  "Shit yeah but Test listen, I am only in until I find the one who did my brother after that you’re on your own. I mean I will help ya if it ain't him and all, but when I get my son of a bitch then I am outta there." Fonzie takes a step back.

  "You will get paid for what you do Fonz, let me go clear everything with Marko. We can catch up in a little bit" John moved past Fonzie after shaking hands and makes his way through some collapsed concrete slabs and onto a stairway leading down to an old wooden basement door left slightly ajar.

  The door creaks open to reveal a well-organized room with two bunk beds set into two of the square room walls. All empty bar one which Marko seems to be asleep in. The room is covered with trinkets from the twenty first century, Marko was quite attached to the old way of living and collected any and all of the old bits and bobs that he could find.

  John walks over quietly to the bed intent on giving Marko a fright. As he gets closer and closer to the green flannel like cover he peers over to see as his eyes adjust to the dark that no one is there, it's a decoy just as the thought runs through John's head a figure falls from the ceiling lands behind John.

  John turns to be face to face with Marko a large, well built man with a five o’clock shadow covering his dark complexion.

  "Ha ha ha, that ain’t the Test I
used to know, getting slow in your old age?" Marko gloated holding a knife to John's throat. John smiles and looks down to tap his hunting knife on Markos crotch.

  “Still not as slow as you though" John grins.

  Silence falls and the two grimace at each other. They break the silence and embrace. Having been friends for many years John and Marko just couldn’t keep a straight face.

  "Got people after you still huh?" John Snorted.

  "Arrgh just testing ya, I saw you on the comms. John you old son of a bitch where the hell have you been man?" Markos smile grew, obviously very happy to see him.

  "I have been running some errands for that whack Hark Reilly".

  "What do you mean errands?" asked Marko putting his knife back in its holster.

  "Yeah, just clearing up some greeners, easy money really, got to live you know. Haven’t really come across one of note in the last six months but it's been interesting" said John.

  "Well it sounds like you have had your hands full Johnny boy, what brings you to these woods my man? You missing your old pal Marko huh?".

  "Umm…I need your help as it happens" John said quietly.

  "What!?...John Test needs my help? You knock on my door, asking a brother for help? Wow this is one for the books". Marko said laughing to himself.

  "Fuck you Marko you will be making money out of it, lots of money, it's whether you get to spend it that's the question".

  "Wow that sounds interesting, do carry on John, enlighten me" Marko snorted.

  "I will…it involves The Eight. Those crazy bastards need to be taken out!".

  "You going after the eight? You got even more mad since I last saw you man, take a seat" proclaims Marko pointing to a chair.

  John pulls up a small steel chair resting against the wall and sits down next to high standing coffee table, Marko pulls up a seat to face John.

  "Well I already got Fonz coming with me and I want you there with us as well. Outta all the people I met out in the zones I never met someone who enjoys cutting others up as much as you my friend" John laughs.

  "Well some things don't change there. Hell, I’ll do it cos I'm bored not cos of the money. There ain't shit all else going on here. What did Fonz say?" asked Marko.

  "He just said that he's in if he can take down the one who killed his brother" replied John.

  "Oh shit, yeah. his brother was killed by Six, but she hasn't been seen for a long while, maybe two or three years. Heard she had moved north into the dark" Marko said tapping his finger on the table.

  "You got anything to drink Marko?" John asked.

  Marko reaches down and slides a grey counter door open to reveal a couple of bottles of half drunken Darkwell whisky.

  "Ah, Darkwell, still a fan I see. where the hell did you find that?" John asks spinning the bottle around and examining the label.

  "That bottle?" Marko asked pointing at the bottle in John's hands. "That bottle I got from one of the trading posts in Sarton. Been drinking it for a while. I savor the flavor".

  "And what about the Foretaar. You can't tell me you got that from the East" John enquired.

  "Oh no no no. You don't get that Foretaar brandy from Sarton. I got that outta shear luck".

  "What do you mean luck?" John put the Darkwell whisky down.

  "I was searching out in the waste for odds and sods and came across a group of greeners. They didn't much like me picking around their area for things. One of them had this on them, and Foretaar doesn't come easy. Dunno where that shit nugget got it, but I'm glad I've got it now. It's also the first drink that me and Mia had, before, you know" Marko rolled his eyes and his eyebrows hit his hairline.

  John grimaced.

  "Yeah, well let's not talk about that right now. No need to relive that mess. What you thinking about taking the Eight down? John asked scanning the bottles.

  Marko picked the Darkwell back up and poured two plastic cups he had gotten from the same cupboard the alcohol came from.

  "That won't be easy at all John. I don't even know where they all are". Marko said taking a sip of the strong Whisky.

  "Yeah I realize that finding them is the first thing, but I gotta couple of leads and hunting is my business now" John replied also swigging the drink and wincing.

  "Listen John, you know I am in for the right price, I mean I will always help you out in times of need brother, but this job could be game over. What's the deal with the trades?" Marko asked pouring some more.

  "Hark has that all lined up, will confirm with him, but for each one its hefty, believe me, I wouldn't be trying it if there wasn't something at the end".

  "Yeah well, still. I'm not sure about all this just yet, I just got to the area recently and" Marko was interrupted.

  "The first stop will probably be Little London" said John with a smirk.

  Marko's ears pricked up.

  "I'm in, when do we leave?" Marko said abruptly.

  "First thing in the morning I reckon" replied John.

  "I will get my shit packed then" said Marko shuffling on his chair.

  "You got somewhere I can rest up Marko?" John knew why Marko wanted to go to Little London.

  Marko gets up and starts walking towards the door, as he gets to the doorway he turns around and gives John a happy look.

  "Ain't even my fucking bed" and walks off laughing. John sniggers and makes his way to bed.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE TERROR-TRAM

  John awakens from a deep slumber in an uncomfortable bed, the mattress seems to be made from very thin sponge and the sheet was basically a towel, so John wasn't in a particularly good mood. As he rouses Marko and Fonz are chatting out in the courtyard. He finds some water on a shelf next to the bed which was built into the wall and gulps down half the bottle before making his way out and into the courtyard to join the two guys.

  Opening the door to the outside was never easy, the dawn sun cracking over the flats and between buildings hit John's tired eyes like a spear, the light reminds him of a time in his life that was hazy, before the flash, he remembers glass tubes and the chatter of groups of people, not being able to move, trapped but he can’t ever seem to get the fog to lift.

  "John what you doing man? Don't just stand there we got a big journey ahead of us." Marko Snaps John back into reality. John grumbles.

  "Yeah yeah I got it".

  Fonz is sitting on an old milk bottle box putting on his size twelve steel toe cap boots and smiling to himself.

  "What you so happy about Fonz?" said Marko.

  "Ahh I just remember the days when we would go out and hunt down those greeners, and we saw that one who had one really strong arm, you got clumped big time, ha ha, sent you across the room, and your face was priceless" chuckles Fonz.

  "Hey that shit wasn't funny Fonz, that guys mutation was concentrated into his throwing arm man. That shit didn't hurt anyway" Marko retorted.

  Fonz got off the box after having fixed his boots tight and grabbed his lumberjack axe which was resting against an old beer keg.

  "Yeah well, that's not what you said at the time Marko, ha ha. I seem to remember you looking quite shocked at the whole ordeal, but big Fonzie took care of him for you" Fonz laughed again.

  "Shut up Fonz!" Marko squared up to Fonz staring up at him.

  "So this is what it's come to" John said in his gruff voice getting the attention of both Fonz and Marko.

  "Me and my two old pals gearing up for the biggest hunt we’ve ever had. You know, rumor has it that the first of the Eight has set up shop in Zone three under the Fifth street Bridge, and that ain't exactly the easiest place to get to neither" John checks he has all his equipment ready.

  “Where did those rumors come from John?” Marko asked curious.

  “I know a guy who knows a guy, ok?” replied John.

  “Well, it was either Hark, Kam in the south, or maybe Mason in Sarton?” Marko said.

  “Could be, could be” John smirked.

  Fonz grabs a sharpening stone
from his pocket and starts to sharpen his axe. Marko takes his hand pistol and club hammer which he checks for notches.

  "Right guys let's get moving we’ve got a fair way to go and we got some Greeners to blitz". John commanded with authority heading towards the street through the gate and out into the wastelands.

  All three move out at a steady pace and head towards the nearest tram station which is five miles north of Markos new den. Back before the Green Flash event occurred a Tram ran through the city providing local inhabitants with a means of traveling quickly and unhindered through the busy streets. Now on the other hand, it's a totally different creature altogether.

  The tram system after the flash was commandeered by the Border Control Company under the command of Ivan Swiss, he wanted it to be a chargeable means of transportation for his troops and for the people of the zones. Unfortunately Ivan's plans didn't happen as he wished as the Trams rails were then powered by green energy and wouldn't stop running at three times the speed.

  The Tram station was up ahead and Marko had scouted the area for any offensive parties that could be waiting to hijack the trio during travel. The entrance to the tram station used to be the front wall of the P-Mart but had since been ruined by the passing of the tram. The tram station walls had been spray painted and aptly re-named The Terror Tram Station.

  As the tram didn’t stop it was an interesting choice to call this place or any of the others a ‘station’. The old P-Mart had a warehouse which sat on a slope next to the tracks. The tram used to pass and stop near the warehouse to drop off workers and to deliver goods, all before the green flash. Luckily the slope now allowed passengers to make the jump onto the tram from the same level as the door.

  "What is it with the Tram anyways? I mean i’ve obviously seen it running around, and broke some guys getting off it. but why doesn’t it stop?" Fonz asked.

  "It used to be a tram operating in the city, when the green came; some-one outfitted it with heavy armor and for some reason it never stopped running, even without lines overhead. The tracks seem like they run on the green." Marko explained.