Surviving the Wounded Earth

Cheers and jeers erupted from the crowd of spectators as my elbow landed squarely upon my opponent’s jaw. I rode the bucking torso underneath me like a writhing wave of flesh and then landed another blow. A new torrent of sound released from the crowd as the body beneath me went limp, and I knew that the fight was over. The crowd began to settle as I stood up, and I watched them exchange dirty coins and scraps of whatever tech they could find as currency. It would have been an ugly sight under even the best circumstances, but as I walked away from the bloody and battered frame of another fighter, everything about the scene seemed filthy and vile. But the days of lavish stadiums, thousands of fans, and affluent spectators were long gone. I pushed my way out of the pit and through the throng of gamblers and voyeurs as fast as I could.

Dim sunlight streamed down upon the floor through the dingy windows of the long-defunct factory we were gathered in. I used it to navigate around the piles of debris and rubbish on my way to the promoter’s office. It was directly in front of the exit so that no one could get out of the building without paying their debts. But I was on my way to collect.

I pushed open the door to the office and found the promoter Hannigan sitting at his desk, right where I expected him. He was a greasy, bald man, and his desk was cluttered with junk. His eyes lit up when he saw me in the doorway.

“Hazel!” he barked, “Another decisive victory, eh?”

I shrugged and moved closer to the desk, without getting a step closer than I had to. A large air scrubber mounted on the wall clicked on and started emitting a steady whir.

“She was tough.” I replied. “With a few more fights, she’ll be a real challenge.”

His lips opened into a wide smile and his broken, stained teeth peaked out at me from within.

“Those big green eyes might fool those Resps out there,” he said, thumbing towards the pit outside. “But I know the truth. You know there will never be anyone as good as you. Your daddy made sure of that.”

He was one of the few people who knew that Hazel was not just a moniker, but my actual name. And he was doing his best to remind me of that and get as friendly with me as he could. He did this every time.

I redirected the conversation to the reason I was putting up with his presence. Payment.

“Oh yeah? You sure seem to pay me just like anyone else.” I said, coolly. “What do you have for me this time?”

He got the point and dropped his nice-guy act, as per usual.

“This time it’s slim pickings.” he answered, pulling out various items from his desk and placing them before me.

“Just like normal. You get your pick.” he said.

I took a moment to examine what he was offering. There was a small pile of old coins, the standard currency for the region. Beside them lay an assortment of half-functional bionic implants that were likely sourced from yesterday’s losers. Finally, there was a fancy personal respirator that positively was not going to work. None of it was worth much of anything, but then again, it never was. But I knew Hannigan well enough to know he was holding back.

I leveled a flat look at him and waited.

He immediately laughed and produced a final item from his coat pocket. This was the game we always played. In his grungy fingers dangled a dull silver heart-shaped locket attached to a thin chain.

“The locket.” I said immediately, holding out my hand.

He looked down at his desk and shook his head with a sigh before handing it over.

“I’ll never get you Green. You never even wear these trinkets, but you always pick some silly piece of jewelry instead of something practical.”

I snatched the locket from his grasp and put it in my pocket.

“That’s not enough money to buy a meal, those bionics will probably kill anyone that tries to use them, and I already have a respirator.” I retorted. “But I will take a ride across the river to the Dome.”

The last request was a big one, but it was a sure bet he would agree.

“That’s an expensive trip.” he said, flatly.

“Yeah, but you have to send Bishop over the river anyway, and you want him to have someone that can fight watching his back.”

Hannigan just shook his head and cracked a smile.

“Get out of here.” he relented.

I flashed him a grin and hastily left the office. After a moment of checking myself for open cuts, I secured my respirator firmly on my face and walked out the door into the poisoned Earth.

It had been generations since the noxious gasses first seeped from the great fissures of the Earth. In the years following, gasses rose from the seas and deep points all over the globe, choking the world in a cloud of miasma that mutated people and animals alike. Eventually it would turn them into maddened bloodthirsty shells. We called them Scabs because once the sickness fully took hold, they would pick at their own flesh and eat it, causing scabs to form all over their bodies. It took a while for the sickness to take hold though, and if access to clean air was found in a timely manner, the worst effects of exposure were normally physical or psychological ticks. I had already spent too many consecutive nights sleeping in shacks with sub-standard air scrubbers, though. Part of me was already starting to feel off, and it wasn’t a good idea to gamble. I needed real fresh air. I needed some time in the Dome.

Stepping out of the factory into the sunlight was euphoric, even if I had to wear a respirator. Gasses and fog blanketed the sky more often than not, so a day with sunshine was a rare indulgence. The compound was once a steel mill that had employed an entire community, but it had been converted into the community itself as the years passed. I made my way to the gate and found Bishop manning it with a small cadre of fighters. He was a large man with even larger white hair.

“Hey, Bishop!” I called out to him as I approached.

“Hey, Hazel.” he answered with a wave. Our voices were muffled by the respirators we wore, but after using them for so long, we could easily understand each other.

“Ready to make your run over the river?” I asked. “Hannigan said I could hitch a ride.”

“Yeah, I was actually about to leave. It’s lucky you caught me in time.” he replied.

Bishop gave some instructions to one of his men and then lead me to the only functional car in a parking lot next to the gate. We piled in and he handed me a sidearm.

“You know what to do.” he said.

I cocked the weapon, and we went on our way.

It only took us a few minutes to make it to the only bridge that could still be used to cross the Mississippi in a car. Despite the roar of the pieced-together engine, we made it to the bridge without being set upon by Scabs or attacked by desperate Resps. I looked out the window and watched the Dome and its shanty-town settlement come into view. The Dome was all that was left of St. Louis, built along the riverfront and around the base of the Arch. Inside the Dome there was still real civilization. Clean air, drinkable water, and even electricity. But only the incredibly wealthy could afford to buy their way in. The rest of us were left to hope for a spot inside via a lottery system. Without at least temporary stays inside the Dome, people were forced to rely on small, inefficient personal respirators for their entire lives. That is why they were called Resps. Desperate to reach the safety of the Dome, hundreds settled peacefully directly outside of it. But as it grew, the town became an agitated, unruly mob. After a few riots that nearly claimed the Dome itself, the guards were given a lot more firepower and permission to use it. They began cracking down savagely on the Resps until order was restored and retained. There were still a few guards that would help someone like me though, for a price.

We crossed the river and made our way down to the shanty town. Bishop let me out and I bid him farewell before disappearing into the crowd at the Dome’s main gate. Weaving in and out of the throng, I made my way to one of the side entrances reserved for residents. The guard watching the entrance had very peculiar bows tied in the laces of his boots, and I knew who he was immediately.

He saw me coming and raised up his hands.

“Whoa. Not today Hazel.” he said. “They are watching us close right now, and no amount of coin is going to get you inside today.”

“Sorry.” he added, at the end.

I shrugged slightly and nodded my head.

“Understood, Marcus. But…what if it’s not coin?” I asked. “Can I tempt you? You know what I have.”

He was wearing a full riot mask, but I could still see that he was torn.

“Damnit. Okay, show me what you have. Quickly.” he said, after literally looking over his shoulders.

I produced the chain from my pocket and allowed the locket to fall out of my hand and dangle before him for dramatic effect. His body tightened up as he saw the necklace, and he moved closer to me to examine it. After a few seconds his gloved hand grabbed the locket from mine, and he pulled me towards the gate.

“Get in. Quick.” he barked.

I didn’t need to be told twice and leaped forward through the gate into the Dome.

“Thanks, Marcus.” I whispered behind me.

Finally inside the Dome, I ripped off my respirator and took long, deep breaths of truly clean air. I went into the first restaurant I came across and ate my fill. After that, I spent a few hours going from shop to shop, hoping to blend in and look like any other resident. Guards didn’t actively look for people to eject from the Dome, but if you gave them a reason to get curious, it could happen. As the day wound down, I took up a spot on a familiar corner that I knew would be safe for me to sleep. Before long, a man and a young girl came out of a nearby restaurant and walked past me. The girl was incredibly cute, wearing an assortment of utterly mis-matched jewelry and trinkets like only a small child could. She waved at me as she skipped by holding the man’s hand.

“Hi Hazel!” she chirped happily. I smiled instantly.

“Hey, Emma.” I replied. “You look happy today. Is that a new necklace?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, holding out a dull silver heart-shaped locket in front of her to show me. “Daddy got it for me today. Do you like it?”

“I love it! You have the best dad ever!” I answered.

Emma’s smile grew even larger as she waved goodbye and kept skipping. I nodded slightly to her father Marcus as he passed. He didn’t say a word, and neither did I.

I didn’t know how long it would take me to win enough coin to gain permanent residency in the Dome. But I knew I could keep going as long as it would take, if it meant bringing new gifts to Emma each week and watching her grow up happy, in a world so bleak.