Kyle West - Evolution

I climbed down the ladder, taking the rungs carefully. It wouldn’t do to slip and fall because I was in a hurry. When I reached solid ground, I allowed myself a small sigh of relief. I stepped lightly onto the dirt of the dark alley. A chill clung in the air, and a thin veil of mist covered the ground. In the distance, perhaps several buildings away, a couple of dogs howled, sending shivers down my spine.

I edged closer to the street. Everything was as empty as we could have wished it. I had expected there to be more people about, and for a minute, I was skeptical of it. Still, I crouched low, and ran across the street. When I reached the alley, I finally joined up with Samuel and Makara. They both looked relieved to see me.

“We’re inside,” I said. “Now what?”

Samuel motioned for me to keep my voice down. In the calm night, it had carried more than I’d intended. Then, he took off his goggles. Makara and I followed his example. I allowed mine to hang around my neck. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness.

“She will be probably be under lock and key,” Samuel said.

“Assuming she wasn’t killed,” Makara said.

Samuel nodded. “Yes, that is always a possibility.”

“Maybe a guardhouse of some kind?” I suggested.

“Or a jailhouse,” Makara said.

“Those would be good places to start.”

I looked around, as if I might find those kinds of places in this cold, deserted alley. The settlement was a little bigger than I thought. It was probably the same size as Oasis in the Wasteland, although the population density was much higher. The buildings were more packed together, most of them being three and four stories. Obviously, this town had existed Pre-Ragnarok, and the Empire had appropriated it for its own use. Ashton gave us thirty minutes to complete the mission upon touchdown, and it would easily take hours to go through all the buildings. Even I wasn’t feeling that lucky, especially when danger would be lurking inside.

I was about to ask where we should start, when a door slammed open from the building to our right. Yellow light spilled into the alley. A man was thrown out the door, crying out as he rolled through the dirt and into the brick wall of the adjacent building. He moaned in pain as three men exited the open door, brandishing clubs. They stalked toward their victim, surrounding him.

The downed man opened his eyes, looking right at us. His eyes widened, but he said nothing. He seemed to be pleading with us to help him.

The men had yet to notice us standing just a few feet off in the darkness. That wouldn’t last long. Samuel urged us forward.

As the men closed in on their prey and began the beating anew, we sneaked up from behind. I silently retrieved my knife from its sheath, hoping for a quick and silent kill. We were close, now — just feet away, and they had yet to notice us. That’s when the man closest to me turned around — fat, with a thick, unkempt black beard, and dark brown eyes. He cried out in alarm.

Samuel stepped forward, silently stabbing the man’s neck before he could react. He screamed and fell to the dirt. Makara bounded forward, taking out the second man, tall and skinny, with a frenzy of knife swipes. She finished the job similarly to Samuel — stabbing the man through the throat once he was down.

I had the job of finishing the last one — a short, bald man who made up for his lack of height with plenty of muscle. He looked like a fighter to the core, covered with scars on his face and arms. He had drawn his own knife, backing away as he faced off against me. But his retreat was a feint. He lunged at me, eyes filled with lethal purpose.

Samuel and Makara pressed on him from either side. Knowing he was surrounded, he made one last ditch effort to attack me, in order to cut his way free. I dodged his wild swipe. The attack had put him off balance. I kicked him with my boot. He grunted, and was sent sprawling to the ground. He yelled in Spanish, probably calling for help, before Makara jumped on top and finished him, cutting him cleanly across the throat. Blood gurgled from his mouth. He quivered, and grew still.

The man we saved still cowered against the wall, as if we might attack him next.

“It’s alright,” Makara said. “You can trust us.”

The man looked up. “Thank you. I couldn’t take all three.”

The man was maybe in his mid to late twenties. He had coppery brown skin, and sported a full, black beard. He wore a simple cotton shirt and rough pants fashioned from what seemed to be hemp or burlap. Whoever he was, he wasn’t a wealthy man. He was covered in hard muscle, as if used to hard labor. He had striking, green eyes, and several day’ stubble covered his face. Several scars crisscrossed his forearms, and a small one underlined his right eye.

“Why were they attacking you?” I asked.

He shrugged, sitting up straighter against the wall. He closed his eyes, still obviously in pain.

“I’m a slave. This is nothing out of the ordinary.” He looked at us, curiously. “Who are you? You are obviously Americans, but you have guns. Did you escape? Who was your master?”

“We’re trying to find a friend,” Samuel said. “She is short, with black hair. She was taken here two days ago, and we’re trying to find her.”

The man’s face lit with recognition.

“Yeah, I know who you’re talking about.” He shook his head. “You just missed her.”

“Missed her?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

Makara glanced nervously toward the open door. From within came the sound of yelling.

“Guys,” she said, “we better keep this short.”

“They transported her, last night,” the man said. “She fought against the slavers in the town square, even killing one of them.”

“And she’s still alive?” Samuel asked.

The man nodded. “They sent her to Nova Roma.”

“Nova Roma?” I asked. “What for?”

“I don’t know,” the man said. “I saw her leave this morning, with the other slaves.”

Other slaves. So she is enslaved.

“We have to go after her,” I said.

The man stood up from where he had been sitting. “My name is Julian, by the way.”

“Look,” Samuel said. “Introductions can wait. If what you say is true, Julian, then we need to get out of here right now.”

Before Samuel could say anything more, two men ran out into the alleyway from the open door. They stood for a moment, shocked, upon seeing their fallen comrades soaking in their own pools of blood.

One of the men turned to Julian, his face a mask of fury. Then, he noticed us. Both men reached for their guns, but we already had ours out. In a moment, we were shooting them down. The shots reverberated through the quiet night, alerting everyone to our presence.

Julian looked at us in shock even as the bodies fell around him. Shouts filled the streets as doors slammed open.

“What now?” Makara asked.

“I know a way out,” Julian said. “You have to trust me.”

Julian bounded down the alley and was lost to darkness. Having no other choice, we ran after him.

Julian took us over a mangled fence as more men ran into the alley, shouting in alarm upon finding the dead bodies.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“There is a storm drain that leads outside the walls,” Julian said. “I’m leading you there.”

“Have you used it before?” Makara asked.

“Yes,” Julian said. “Although, that time it didn’t work out.”

“Didn’t work out…?” Makara asked.

Julian ignored Makara’s question, instead turning a corner and running straight down the street. Two men stood ahead of us, talking in front of an open door. Upon seeing us, they looked at each other and began to shout.