Like I said, I woke up, and yet I was so certain that I was still dreaming… either that or I was currently sitting in the weirdest prison cell ever. I was lying on a bed in a room that looked like it belonged to a wooden cabin. The bed had sheets and everything, and was very confortable… but why? I tried to think back… what was the last thing I remembered? My hands drifted up to the cut on the back of my head and it flared up in pain when I prodded it – I winced and pulled my hand away. I remembered that I was in the capital… Jesus Christ, I had just killed Benson! And then… And then there were the guards… and Angelo… and he hit me over the head. I should have been in prison… that or dead. What the hell happened?
I heard the door to the room click open and I sat up straight and faced it, unsure as to who would be on the other side. In came Angelo, all smiles and sunshine. I glared at him harshly… he had a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
When he saw that I was awake his eyes lit up and he moved over to me gently. “You’re awake,” he said. “For a while I was beginning to think that I had hit you a little too hard.”
I continued to gently rub the back of my head, squinting my eyes as I did. “What is this?” I asked loosely. “What happened? Where are we?”
“Relax,” Angelo said calmly. “I’ll tell you after you’ve had something to eat.”
When at first I tried to stand my legs were wobbly and unsteady, but after a few seconds I managed to walk across the room and into the kitchen. Angelo sat me down at the table and then he went away for a moment. At least from here I was able to get a good look around. As it turned out, I was in a wooden cabin, one that hadn’t been used in a while but was still kept in good care. Everything was neat and tidy – there were no dirty clothes or dishes and nothing had been left out of place, and yet, as I looked around I realised that there were no personal items of any kind – no pictures or ornaments or special rugs – it was all just necessity.
I could smell food being cooked and it made my tummy rumble, in fact, I hadn’t realised how hungry I was until now. When was the last time I had a decent meal? I wondered. Dear god, it must have been when I ate that burger at the diner on the night of the festival, and that was almost a week ago!
Angelo returned to me with a plate of food. “Here,” he said with a kind smile. “I made you breakfast.” He set the plate down in front of me – bacon and eggs. “Sorry, it’s a little plain but it was all I had left.”
I looked up at him and returned his smile. Given my current situation I think I’d eat just about anything, but to be honest this meal looked great! “This is fine,” I replied to him. “I practically lived off this sort of stuff before everything happened, so I think this is just what I needed.” I began to eat, and as I did so, I figured I might as well multitask and get my questions out of the way. “So where are we, exactly?” I asked. “What part of the city.”
Angelo sat down with a guilty expression that made me hesitate before my next bite. “Well, the thing is, we’re not in Tartarus city anymore?”
I put down my knife and fork for a moment. “Not in Tartarus city? Jesus, what the hell happened while I was out? The last thing I can remember was you smashing me over the head with a pistol. How did you get me past all the guards?” I began to eat again.
“Actually, it wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be,” he explained. “After you, you know, ended Benson’s reign, it was damn near chaos all throughout the north of the city for the rest of the night, hell, I bet those bastards are still fighting. Anyway, I was more or less safe posing as a guard and no one had a clue who the hell you were, so as soon as most of Benson’s men were gone I just put you on my shoulder, threw you in the first car I could find, and then I got out.”
“What happened to ATLAS?” I asked as I swallowed another bite.
Angelo rubbed his chin as he tried to recall. “Well the shutdown worked, if that’s what you’re wondering, so there’ll be no mass killings anytime soon… at least not of anyone who’s too innocent. I’m pretty sure it belongs to the resistance now – to whichever lucky soul was crazy enough to sign up as the new leader. It should serve them pretty well as a giant paper weight… that’s all it’s good for now, anyway.”
I swallowed the last bite and let out a sigh, and unfortunately it was because I was sad and not because of the food, as strange as that seemed. “Maybe I should have just given the code up to one of them as soon as I got it… I could have avoided all of this brutality.”
Angelo just shook his head once. “I’m afraid I have to disagree with you. At least those guys sort of deserved what they got, unlike all the innocents who would have died if you had given up. I mean, what right does a sheep have to be slaughtered? You were braver than anyone I have ever met before in my life, and don’t you ever doubt that you made the wrong decision.”
I sat there and thought for a moment – I’ll probably be thinking for a while seeing as I’m stuck out here. “What about Lace?” I asked. “What happened to him?”
“Ah, well as soon as the capital was in the resistance’s control they went out and hunted Lace down. He’s either dead or in prison. I guess you don’t need a super weapon to win a war after all.”
“I need to go back,” I suddenly announced. “If the city’s in chaos then my mother might be in danger – I have to go to her.”
“You don’t have to worry, I already asked some friends of mine to keep an eye on her, and see that she’s safe. They’re good people and better yet they’re loyal friends, they won’t let anything bad happen to her, I promise.”
“Are you sure?” I asked again, unable to imagine the kind of pain she must be in right now.
“Yes,” he replied. “You can even write to her if you like, but before you do that I have a very serious question that I’d like to ask.”
At first I was afraid of what it might be, but then I smiled – I couldn’t exactly say no after he saved my life. “Go ahead.”
“Okay, I plan on leaving Tartarus city forever,” he said boldly, “and I’d like you to come with me.”
Leave Tartarus city forever! I couldn’t, I wouldn’t know how… I had even considered it once before but I cast the thought away based on my lack of survival skills. But then again, that was the old Abigail, and this time I won’t be alone. But I’ve lived my entire life in that city, it’s all I’ve ever known, and messed up and tyrant driven as it may be, it’s still my home.
“Wow, you really threw that on me,” I jested. “It’s impolite of you, Angelo, asking a girl to leave her home forever.” I then looked solemnly down at the table. “Although, something tells me that running away is a damn good idea. Please, just give me at least a day to decided.”
Angelo slowly nodded his head. “Alright, but in the mean time you should probably stay around here. This cabin is most likely the safest place we’ll see for a while.”
What I wanted was to return to the city and tell my mother that I loved her, however some frightening afterthought reminded me that she might not recognise her own daughter anymore, not after the old Abigail died and I was born out of fire and nightmares. There was also the problem that arose from the code still being inside my head. 65743532770121963490. Even though Benson and Lace were gone now, it would be like Aizel said: people know I have the code, and pretty soon I’m going to be a very popular girl… Huh, tell me about it.
So long as ATLAS still existed I would never be safe, and neither would the city, and something told me that simply running away wasn’t going to be enough. A funny idea came to my mind; I bet if people ever knew of what had happened to me, they’d tell it to their children before bedtime, in the form of a fairy tale. The Legend of Abigail: Keeper of the Code. Of course, like most fairy tales it would leave out all the nasty parts, but personally I thought that the entire thing was one big nasty part – I should know, it was my story after all. The tale would tell of… perhaps a fair maiden who took it upon herself to guard the code, even though it may have been beyond her capabilities. The next part of the story would say of how the fair maiden became a fierce and deadly dragon so that she could protect the code from all who desired it’s power, and that brave knights from all across the land sought out the legendary beast and yet none returned…
Could I really live up to that tale? Is that my life now – as a fierce and deadly dragon? Even if I were that dangerous I’d still be running for the rest of my life.
I ended up spending most of my deciding time wondering around the cabin and looking for some random stuff to mess around with. In one room I found a box full of little green army-men, and I ended up playing with them for at least an hour – sitting on the ground like a little kid, strategically arranging my men according to their rank and assigned positions. It became even more fun when I noticed the dollhouse sitting in the corner, all dusty and forgotten. So I got up, went over to the little fake house, and then dragged it over to where my battalion of army-men resided. I began to move each one, like chess pieces, until ten minutes had passed and my brave soldiers were in the midst of a full assault on the dollhouse – and an epic battle to be remembered. I had divided the men equally, placing half on the offensive team and half on the defensive. Within the house I placed several snipers on the roof and a few on the balcony, the heavy machineguns were in the two main windows, and I had artillerymen on the front steps and foot soldiers building barricades outside so that they could better hold the perimeter. They had all put up a good fight, they really did, however unlike the offensive side they were riddled with desperation… it was fight or die, and some of them just weren’t prepared to fight, and so they died, and the battle was over.
I felt as if it wasn’t fair for me to run away, not after so many lives had been snuffed out so instantly. I wondered by what curse or miracle allowed me to survive… and not anyone else. This bothered me a great deal, and I could barely stand the frustration of it all – that’s why I needed to bury them. I obviously couldn’t actually bury them because their bodies were lost to me forever, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t give them a proper burial. I hunted down planks of wood, several of which I found around the side of the cabin. Next I collected string from one of the rooms and I wished more than anything that I could find some flowers, but no matter how hard I looked I couldn’t find any. I settled the matter by collecting seven little green army-men, one for each of the fallen. John Abigail, Adriane Sierra, Amelia Baker, Aizel Barrette, Mr Brakewater, Archibald Lace, and Arthur Benson. I used the wood and string to make crosses for them, which I then stuck into the dirt outside the cabin and then placed one of the green army-men at the base – this would commemorate their bravery… and the sorrowful way in which they were victimized by humanity. I don’t really know why I made crosses… they were signs rather than anything else, because I seriously doubt that god was watching these people right now… and if he was then he was more of a monster than I was, just some lunatic who enjoyed playing with their food a little too much. I hated him… that sick bastard.
After I had pulled the dollhouse to its corner and put the leftover army-men back into their box, I stood up, left the room, and went to an old piano I had passed on my way in. I had owned a piano in my house back in the city, but it had been forever since I last played anything on it. So I sat down, placed my hands over the keys, and I started to play. I was rusty at first – actually my playing sounded quite horrible. I was trying to recall a piece that my mother had taught me when I was little, but when I finally worked up the courage to move my fingers they kept on playing the wrong notes. I decided that I’d play something new instead. The rhythm was slow at first and the melody became sad, but it was a beautiful song and it came to me as naturally and vividly as one of my nightmares. I increased the rhythm and moved to a higher octave so that the notes became louder and angrier, building the suspense as high as I dared let it to go and then destroying it completely with a smooth and gentler string of notes that quickly drowned out the madness and filled the room with quiet peace.
In that same room, hidden away in a dusty corner, I believed that there was a painting – some great piece of art concealed beneath a white sheet. I was staring at it for a long time while I was playing the piano, however I was far too drawn into the music to stop playing, and so all I could do for the moment was sit and wonder. When at last my melody died and fell to silence I deemed that it was time to examine this mysterious piece of art. I left the piano, moved over to the corner, and pulled the sheet away – left in awe by the vision that emerged before my eyes. I did not recognize the painting from any museum or book that I had read, however I could easily guess as to whom its creator was – the same artist who had done the painting in the living room of Brakewater’s house. This painting was oil on canvas of the most treacherous thing I had ever seen. Painted in dark browns and deep reds was a Minotaur with sharp bleeding fangs, great horns and merciless orange snake eyes. After a moment I noticed that the bottom half of the beast was green and had scales – it feet had only three claws and it had a long and powerful reptile tail that extended from its back. The creature was not in fact a Minotaur, it was a chimera – a vile beast born out of the sins of man, existing only to burn and destroy.
There was something terrible happening in this scenario that I saw. There were two men who had been swept forcefully from their horses with the left arm of the beast, and brutally decapitated by an axe held by the beast’s right arm. Despite all this the beast was screaming in shame and anguish, and its tears fell heavy on the bodies of the two men it had destroyed, mixing pure water with thick tainted blood. Behind the Minotaur-chimera and the two dead men, in the middle ground of the painting, was a blackened forest – thousands upon thousand of trees that were once beautiful and green had been scorched by these two men, and for that, death was their punishment. In the background was the sky above the horizon, painted with the most amazing use of the colour red that I had ever seen. The paint was thick and yet when it had dried it cracked in many places, and it gave me the superstitious idea that maybe it had been painted in blood… literally using actual blood as paint. If that’s not symbolism at its finest then I don’t know what is.
I was absolutely captivated by this painting – I loved it and I feared it and I hated it and I admired it. It took all my strength to finally pull my eyes away, and when I did I felt dizzy and even nauseous. I left the room and never returned, thinking that above all, that painting left me feeling hungry.
When it was close enough to noon I went to the kitchen and prepared lunch for Angelo and myself, although I was mostly disappointed by what I found – he had plenty of salads and not enough meat… or hot sauce. Anyway, I cut up a little bit of everything that I found – lettuce, tomato, carrot, cucumber, cheese… all that stuff. I didn’t bother making it into a sandwich – I just sort of ate it how it was – besides, if I was to be living on the road with Angelo I probably wouldn’t have time for those luxuries. I had no idea what life as a drifter would be like and that’s what frightened me… unless maybe I became a bandit and stole lots of money, that way I’d be rich and I could eat whatever the hell I wanted!
When food was out of the way I set about helping Angelo pack for the trip to… huh, I didn’t actually know where we were going. I hadn’t told him yet whether or not I was going with him – I’d do that in the morning, when I was absolutely certain. When he took the car and returned to the city for extra supplies, I remained in the cabin and slept for a while. It occurred to me that I did a lot of sleeping, like, even when I wasn’t tired I could just lay down and sleep… it was the easiest thing in the world. Then again, I had been knocked unconscious at least four times in the past week. Wow, that can’t be good for my health.
I awoke at dusk, which was when Angelo was supposed to return, but no one else was here. I sat up from my bed, put on my clothes and then had an interesting idea. There were a bunch of logs and a fallen tree just outside the cabin and I had a weird desire to cut firewood – I needed the exercise anyway. There was enough light outside to work so I got straight to it. I had never cut firewood before however I liked the idea of swinging a massive axe at a bunch of inanimate objects… it made me feel powerful. As it turned out, the axe was heavier than I thought it would be, and getting it to split the wood properly was a real pain, but after a while I was sweating and my arms were sore, so I was making some kind of progress.
I heard a noise from around the corner of the cabin – someone stepping on twigs – and that could only mean that Angelo had returned. Good, I thought joyfully, I was starting to get lonely. I put a smile on my face and walked over to the corner, resting the axe against the dead tree as I did. Angelo wasn’t around the corner, it was someone else, a man, and he had a knife. I instantly tried to run away but he caught my arm and held me close to him, sticking the knife dangerously close to my throat.
“Scream if you like,” said the man. “No one will hear you all the way out here.”
I kicked and struggled, but his grip was too tight and the knife was too close. “What do you want?” I asked of him, hoping that he was just a thug and not a knight who was out to slay a dragon.
“I want what’s in your head,” he replied and pointed the knife up at my temple. “The code.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I begged. “Please, I have money…” (I didn’t actually have any money). “Just take whatever you want and then leave.”
He leaned in close and his breath was foul with liquor. “Oh, I intend to,” he laughed. “Nice try, but you can’t play dumb with me, Abigail, we all know what you look like.”
“I have no idea what you mean!” I really didn’t know what he meant, but right now I sure as hell wanted to find out.
“Whoever’s in charge of the city now has put a nice looking bounty on your head. You’re all that people are talking about back home. The sign says that you’re not to be harmed, but I think I’ll just torture the code out of you and bargain it off to the highest bidder.”
I reached towards the fallen tree and snapped off a piece of wood. “Like hell you will!” And then I stabbed this bounty hunter in the thigh. The second he lost his grip I darted away and picked up the axe. I lifted it, he was kneeling over and clutching his bleeding leg, and the very last words he ever uttered were “Wait! Please!” and then I buried the axe in the bastard’s skull.
I heard the nearby slanting crush of a car pulling up over gravel – that was over the sound of my own heart beating, I mean, I just killed another person, my third victim, and it was so much easier to do now. I collected the dead man’s backpack as well as his knife and his wallet, and then I went to face whoever was in that car. I swear to god, if it’s another bounty hunter…
It wasn’t another bounty hunter, this time it was Angelo, and as he stepped out of the car he simply stared at the droplets of blood that stained my shirt. “What happened?” he said in a loud worried voice.
“We’ve got a problem,” I replied, slightly breathless. I ran up to the front of the car, plopped the bag on the bonnet and then opened it up. I fished out the piece of paper that I was looking for and stood partly stunned as I looked at it:
“WANTED
ALIVE
JEANNETTE ELIASON ABIGAIL
$30,000 REWARD
WANTED FOR THE MURDER OF ARTHUR PATRICK BENSON AND THE THEFT OF THE ATLAS ACTIVATION CODE!”
That idiot! What right minded bounty hunter would give ATLAS back to the resistance! This new leader if theirs just started a god damn free for all and I’m the objective. I’ll have no choice but to run… but with a thirty thousand dollar reward on my head, they’ll never stop. I threw my hand against the hood of the car, hurting my knuckles and making and angry metal clang. Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!
Angelo saw my distress and he looked like he was going to comfort me, but I brushed him away, went inside, and sat down at the table. I couldn’t run. Out there on the road, spending every night trying to sleep with one eye open because at any second some piece of scum was ready to kidnap you. That was no life to live.
I could simply give up the code and let the people do whatever the hell they wanted with it, but even if I did that they’d still arrest me for murder and thievery, and if the city were to destroy itself because of ATLAS then all of my sacrifices and all of everyone else’s would be for nothing. I could try and destroy ATLAS again… I had thought about that for a while, however there was nothing I could do that wouldn’t risk activating it.
There was a voice that started to speak to me in my head. There is one other way to destroy ATLAS forever…
I recalled the hallucination I had back when I was being interrogated by Brakewater. Aizel had said something grave and terrible, but it took me all this time until now to realise the dire truth of it all. “Abigail,” he had said. “It’s time to give up. Give us the code and be free, because I can assure you that no matter how far you run, there’s no escaping that code… well, other than death.”
Other than death… Well isn’t that a fitting ending. Burn the code and ATLAS will burn with it. Perhaps death truly was my only salvation, my solution and my freedom. I had made up my mind: I wasn’t going with Angelo and I wasn’t going home. I was going to die right here in this cabin, and then poor Angelo will have to wrap me up in a sheet and bury me outside with all the others. I was to be the fourth and final victim.
So I guess I’d need Angelo’s help… somehow I managed to laugh. Well isn’t this going be a pleasant conversation…
ns 172.69.59.71da2