Chapter 1: Long Hunt
Law could smell the stench of decomposing corpses and see the flames from a mile away. Goodwell, once a prosperous town built from an old suburb, was now nothing but a mass grave. He had visited the town before, when it was alive and thriving with massive walls made from tattered houses and towers that stood as silent watchers.
All the effort put into building the town's walls and towers seemed for naught now that they lay in ruins. The walls were easily shredded by basic explosives, and the towers were either burned down or shredded into chunks. The guards that once protected the town now hung by their necks off the structures.
Law sighed, unholstered his rifle, and stalked forward through the gaping hole in the wall. He had been tracking these raiders for days, always the first to witness their warpath, but never close enough to offer assistance.. While Atlanta had to deal with the Children of MARS, out here away from the protection of the State of McPherson, the Outsiders dominated.
Law stepped over the rotting remains of a few of the Outsider's "soldiers", Law took the time to stop and spit upon their corpses.
"Inbred pigs." He cursed under his breath.
As he made his way to the town square, Law passed by endless scenes of horror, each one a reminder of the Outsiders' brutal tactics of destruction and enslavement. They were a vile coalition of country hillbillies and fascists, those that waited for the eventual "race war" that never came. Instead, they were greeted with climate change and nuclear war, yet it did not deter them from using it as a sign to begin their new white nation. Pillaging all nearby settlements, and massacring or enslaving all those they viewed as lesser creatures.
Law stepped into the town square that held the gulf of the atrocities. Heaps of bruised and dismembered bodies, belonging to members of all ages and of various backgrounds. Law took a deep breath and began counting in his head.
"One…two…three…four…five."
Repeating his count over and over again until his hands steadied. It did not matter how many times he had seen these horrors, every time it affected him to his core. He walked over and inspected a body. Checking the pupils and placing a hand against its forehead, feeling for its body heat.
"I'm getting closer. I should only be a day behind. The question is where did they go from here?"
He looked around, taking in the surroundings, pausing a moment to hear the ambient noise. Yet all that returned was an eerie silence. He glanced upward, measuring the sun's place in the sky.
"Four hours before sunset, better get a move on."
He explored the buildings, most being stripped of valuables, others containing corpses and further horrors that were better left unsaid. Exiting the residential space, he made his way over to the town's winter storage. The storage was a handcrafted warehouse built out of scavenged material. Approaching, Law saw the chaotic remains of the town's supplies. Bottles of alcohol, bags of wheat and produce, and canned goods lay scattered out from the broken entryway.
As he entered the warehouse, he saw the remnants of an Outsider encampment: a campfire, tents, and wooden boxes. Law moved with haste, ripping apart the standing tents and ripping open boxes in search of any clue or sign of where they were heading.
"There is nothing here but scraps and dead people." He kicked the ground only to hear the rattling of metal.
Looking down, he saw a glint of a metal slave collar. He picked it up and noticed that it had been sliced open, with the lined leather stained with a trace amount of blood. Lowering the collar, he made his way towards the walls of the warehouse, inspecting every inch before discovering a small hole leading out, and marked with a dried droplet of blood.
He wondered if it was a survivor.
He walked outside, circled around to the exterior of the small hole. It was just big enough for a child to fit through. Law noticed a light trail of blood, easily hidden by other scattering of blood that surrounded this place, but now he knew this led somewhere to someone. He rose, swallowed, and began following the blood trail. The trail wasn't easy to follow, as scattered droplets here and there barely illuminated the way, made worse by other streams of blood that made the path more difficult to follow.
Despite his focus, occasional intrusive thoughts slipped in. He didn't let himself finish the thought: even if the kid had managed to escape, there was still a chance that they were. He had to hold onto hope.
He wanted to believe, even if it was a small chance, that someone made it out of this. The trail concluded with a trailer sitting in front of a burned-out husk of a house. He stepped up to the trailer door, a bloody handprint painted the handle, and with a sharp intake of breath, he pushed the door open.
His heart sank as he saw a small boy, no older than ten, lying motionless on the floor. A pool of blood flowed underneath him. Law felt his hands tremble once more, fear gripping his heart. He moved slowly, examining the features of the boy, who looked like a younger version of himself. A little brown boy with nappy hair and a square face.
As he moved closer to the boy, he felt a wire pull against his feet, and a can on the counter fell to the floor with a loud clatter. Startled by the trap, he looked down at the boy, only to be met with his dazed and traumatized eyes. Quickly, the boy pulled himself out of his sleep and grabbed onto a knife laid beside him, holding it upwards at Law. Yet despite the determined look in his eyes, his hands shook under the blade's weight. The boy screeched in a vain attempt to frighten Law.
"Wait, hold on, I am not here to hurt you," Law replied, raising his hands upwards while keeping his eyes on the boy's arm.
The boy just continued to scream, raising himself off the floor slowly and stabbing forward to command distance. Law took a step back, dodging the wild knife lunges. He observed the boy's fatigue that made each lunge slow and uncoordinated, weakened further by the open wound on his neck and apparent wounds underneath his clothes that revealed themselves with stains of blood.
"This is only going to kill him," Law thought, readjusting himself over to a defensive position, reading for the next strike.
The boy lunged once more, and in that instance, Law stepped forward, grabbing the boy's wrist, twisting it hard, and forcing him to drop the knife. Law kicked the blade away and looked down at the thrashing child in his grip. His heart ached, and on instinct, he pulled the child into himself, wrapping his arms around the boy.
"It will be alright. I'm not here to hurt you," Law called quietly, allowing the words to seep into the child, as the boy continued to thrash, then slowly stopped and eventually began to break down in tears in his arms.
It was at that point, Law exhaled, unsure himself of how long he had been holding his breath. He gripped the boy tightly as his own tears welled up and fell. The horrors the two had seen flowed out of them, in that somber embrace.
It had taken a full half hour before the boy fully calmed down and allowed Law to sit beside him and patch him up. Twitching and wincing against Law's hands, he had slowly stitched closed and disinfected the various injuries that had marked his body. The child had bitten his lip in pain and breathed heavily as Law began placing salve against another wound.
"I'm Law," Law mumbled out. The boy had looked up at him, his eyes red and tired.
"What's your name, kid?"
"Daniel," he whispered before turning away in pain, "Daniel Washington."
"Daniel, huh." He rubbed the salve on another wound, causing the boy to recoil. "Sorry, but it's the only way to prevent it from being infected."
Law nudged the boy to gain his attention, and he pointed up at the boy's neck. Daniel had responded by extending his neck upwards, allowing Law better access to the wound. The neck wound, at first glance, had looked minor, but Law knew different. While the deep gash had barely dodged major arteries, it was still too big to close on its own.
"Yikes. That was going to need some serious stitches."
Law had taken his needle, rubbed it in alcohol and as he had approached the site, he had stopped for a moment.
"You may want to turn your head."
Daniel had done so, and had tried his hardest to remain still as he had felt the cold needle pull his flesh together.
"Right there. Hold still, kid." Law had begun sewing the boy's wound close and had tried to distract him with a conversation. "Escaping the Outsiders was no easy matter, you must have been quite sneaky."
"No." Daniel had grimaced, attempting not to disturb Law's work. "It was my sister's plan. She had smuggled a knife into her gown and when she saw the Outsiders distracted, she used it to cut me free. I heard her scream and charge at them while I escaped. They didn't even realize I was gone. If it wasn't for her, I would be dead or…" he had gone silent, his hand rising to where the collar had once rested.
Law had stopped and had placed a hand on his back. Daniel had taken a second and had composed himself once more. "What are you doing here, mister? Are you one of the Red Cross?"
Law had finished the stitch and had leaned back. "No, in fact, I'm here looking to kill those men that raided your town."
Daniel had looked at him in surprise, and a slight flash of anger had crossed his eyes. His body had instinctively pulled away from Law's hands. "You were too late."
"I couldn't have made it even if I had a head start." Daniel had looked at him and had seen guilt in Law's eyes, but also his stern look of knowing the cold facts that nothing could have been done.
"So what's next?" Daniel had asked, looking at him as if Law had all the answers
"I was hoping you could tell me that. I had been following their truck's tread marks, but with the chaos of that scene, it would have taken me all night to figure out where they were heading. Plus, with the raided warehouse and the number of slaves they had captured, it meant they were nearing the end of their raid. If I didn't find their trail soon, I would never be able to stop them." Finishing his stitching, he looked up, matching Daniel's stare. "This is where you come in. What can you tell me about what you saw or heard?"
Daniel looked at him and then stared toward the window, "I knew where they were going. However.…" He trailed off, looking at Law with eyes of vengeance, "I wanted to come with."
"No." Law stated, standing promptly. Daniel rose and opened his mouth to protest only to be silenced by Law cutting in, "I knew what you were already going to say, but let's face the facts. You were armed with a kitchen knife, and before I came were on the brink of death due to your injuries."
"That didn't mean anything. I could still fight." Daniel protested, his eyes darting to the knife laying on the floor.
Law sighed and pressed his hand against one of Daniel's wounds, causing him to cry out in pain and collapse to his knees.
"You have suffered enough."
The boy stared at the ground, his face twisted in disgust and shame at his own weakness.
"Kid, where did they go?"
"…"
Law stood in front of the boy, who remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Daniel," Law said, his voice firm. "Lives are at stake."
The boy, Daniel, looked up, his eyes haunted. "Then take me with you. I can help," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.
Law hesitated for a moment, considering the risks. He reached into his backpack, searching for a small vial, and put it in his pocket. "All right," he said finally. "Where are we heading?
"They said they were heading Northwest, up to Rome? I think? They said they were going to sell off some slaves and more." Daniel replied.
Law grabbed his backpack and shoved all his medical gear inside, the metal tools clanking against each other. "Let's go," he said, leading the way out of the trailer and into the deserted town.
Daniel hesitated for a moment, looking around nervously, before quickly chasing after Law.
As they walked, the sound of gravel crunching beneath their boots echoed through the empty streets. Law looked at Daniel and thought about his decision. The vial in his pocket felt like a heavy weight, pulling him towards a dangerous choice. He could easily knock the boy out and leave him behind.
But then, the howling of a coyote pierced the silence of the town, sending shivers down Daniel's spine.
"What was that?" Daniel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"That was a coyote. It means that nature has begun to reclaim this land," Law replied, his voice low.
"What does that mean?" Daniel's eyes were wide with fear.
"It means that the corpses will soon be feasted upon by the wildlife in the area. We need to be careful," Law said, his tone serious.
Law removed his hand from the vial, having made his decision. The safest place for Daniel was by his side, whether he liked it or not.
"Stay close and keep up," Law said to Daniel, watching as the boy's face brightened and quickened his pace to keep up with Law.
As they walked, Law couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The path ahead would be dangerous, and he wasn't sure they were ready for what was to come. But he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand.
Law looked at the boy once more and let out an exasperated sigh. There was no going back now. Muttering under his breath, "This kid is going to be the death of me."