Deadwastes

The moon was in the middle of the night sky by the time they returned to the airport. Mason’s legs ached, and he felt like he was ready to pass out. Erin led him to the entrance and they walked down the stairs together. He stayed behind her, fully conscious of her gun and her willingness to use it.

She opened the door, and Mason saw that the lights had all been turned off. A few people milled about, looking at supplies and standing watch, but most were asleep, either in tents or in sleeping bags that were lined up on the old conveyor belts. A few hung in makeshift hammocks, strewn between the belts.

One of the guards standing watch, a thin, older woman with a rifle, saw them and waved them over, towards one of the tents. They obliged, walking over and stepping inside the tent. Jackson was sitting down at an old desk, scribbling something into a journal. The guard poked him gently, then pointed at Mason and Erin.

He turned around, his swivel chair creaking loudly. He looked tired, worn. The bags under his eyes made him appear half-dead. He sighed loudly, then crossed one of his legs over the other, looking at them with an anticipating gaze.

Erin stepped forward in front of Mason slightly, and began to explain the situation.

“We couldn’t find the right parts for the truck. But, we went to an old junkyard I knew about on the other side of the city, and managed to find a somewhat fixable truck instead. It’s not as shiny or new, but it’ll work.” she told him.

He rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure. Because that’s likely. Whatever, I don’t care where you got it, as long as it works. Where is it now?” he asked, his eyelids struggling to stay open.

“It’s about halfway through the city…” she started, and as Jackson’s face grew alarmed, she added quickly, “but it’s just out of gas! We’ll go out tomorrow with some of the gas we have stored here and get it.” she said.

He nodded, slowly. “Fine. That works. Go get some sleep, you two. We’ll talk about this more in the morning, and I have some work I’d like you, Mr. Mason, to do by yourself tomorrow. Gotta prove you can handle yourself around here. No slouchers allowed.” he said, then motioned for them to leave.

Erin walked out and let out a sigh of relief. “Phew.” she whispered. “I was worried he’d realize I was lying to him.” she whispered.

Mason shrugged, tired and ready to sleep. Erin led him to a large canvas tent, and showed him inside. There were a few people lying in sleeping bags on the ground, and a couple of empty ones. She pointed at one, then collapsed into another, passing out almost instantly.

Mason very nearly did the same, but just before he got into his bag, he remembered the other times he’d fallen asleep around other people. He stood up and looked around. Deciding it wasn’t worth it, he grabbed the bag off the ground and took it out of the tent. He kept himself low, avoiding the few guards that were protecting the supplies and the weapons, and crept around to the door.

He opened it quickly, went inside the stairwell, then closed it silently. He stood up and walked back up, keeping one hand on the wall so he wouldn’t trip in the darkness. He reached the top, and walked out the set of double-doors, going out into the darkened airplane loading building.

Mason set the bag down on the ground near the doors, trying to ignore the hunger in his stomach. He didn’t want to risk going back down there and stealing any food, besides, he could survive for one night. Probably.

He put it in a place that seemed like it was decently protected from the wind, between a few crates, and settled himself inside. It was warm, and he felt like he would be safe for the night. Provided he didn’t wake up to see some monster gnawing on his legs.

He eventually managed to fall into a deep sleep, the hunger giving way to his tiredness. He had hoped for a dreamless rest.

He should have known he wouldn’t get one.

As soon as he fell asleep, Mason’s eyes burned open, and he saw that he was in a desert, empty and void of all life. Sand stretched out in dunes and swirls as far as he could see in any direction. The cloudless sky looked down upon him with a single, blazing yellow eye.

“You don’t get it, do you? I’d almost feel bad for you, if you hadn’t stolen everything I had.” he heard someone say behind him. The voice. Except now instead of a whisper, he heard him loud and clear.

He turned around, putting his arms up to defend himself. He saw that he was once again wearing his old hoodie. The person was facing away from him, their long black coat flapping slowly in the slight breeze.

Mason lowered his fists, shoving them into his pockets. The sun was burning into the desert, but he felt no heat. He didn’t feel anything.

“It’s boring here, isn’t it? Empty. I’ve wandered here for a long, long time. Too long.” he said, then turned around, slowly. For a moment they looked at each other, their gazes hard and uncompromising.

Mason looked at him. He could have been his twin. He was identical to him in so many ways, but different in so many others. He looked exactly like the corpse that had electrocuted him before.

“I’m not happy about this any more than you are.” Mason told him, surprised to find he could speak for once.

His twin shrugged. “Don’t care. I want my body back.” he told him. Mason crossed his arms and didn’t move.

“This is my body. I don’t know who the hell you are or what’s going on, but I’d be a lot happier if you never spoke again. And…” Mason started. The man raised his eyebrow.

“And what? Never took control of myself again?” he asked, holding out his palms in front of him. Sparks of electricity flew out from it, dancing around his arm.

“That’s not happening. This world was mine. I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. No cops, no government, no rules. I was a king.” he said, spitting out the last words. The lightning fervently started to wind around his whole body, twisting and wrapping itself like a python.

“Watching you is like watching a bad movie. I can see what you see, hear what you hear, but I can’t do anything about it. That girl pisses me off. I’d rather just electrocute her and be done with it. And those other two, from before? They’d better pray that I don’t see them again, or they’ll regret threatening me.” he said angrily.

Mason stepped back, nervous. “Me? This is my body! I don’t even know how I got here, but I’m not about to let you take control of me!” he said, but his voice faltered as he watched his twin step forward towards him, a disgusted look on his face.

“You’re in my head now, buddy. And in my head, I’m the one with the power.” he threatened, then clasped his hands together. Dragging them apart, he filled the space between them with electricity, shaping it into a ball.

He gave Mason one final smirk. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that you get put to good use. Thanks for resurrecting me.” he said, sarcastically, before he lofted the ball of electricity over his head and shot it towards Mason.

Mason watched the ball blast towards him, too fast for him to react. He closed his eyes and waited for it to come, already given up. After a few more seconds passed, he opened them again, confused.

He saw his twin staring at him with a look of incredible fury. Looking down, he saw the ball floating in front of him, suspended in the air. It shuddered, static coming off of it, before it dissipated into the air.

“No. No no no.” his double said, staring at the ground, then looked at him angrily. He walked towards Mason with his fists clenched, raising his right arm to strike him.

His eyes widening, Mason reached his arms up to defend himself, looking away. The fist fell down onto his arms, and for a second the sound of crackling electricity vanished. Looking back, he saw that his twin’s hand was stuck to his arm.

His face red, he desperately tried to pull away, but couldn’t do anything. Mason was stuck as well. They stared at each other, one with hatred, the other with fear.

After a minute of this, each of them unable to speak, a spark erupted between them. It launched itself up and into the sky. Then, slowly, stormclouds filled the horizon, quickly rushing forward and covering the sky.

Rain began to pour down over them, turning the sand into mush. A jagged lightning bolt burst out of the clouds, smashing into the both of them. For a moment they were both paralyzed, their muscles locking into place.

Then it stopped, and they were flung apart onto the soaked sand dunes. Mason got up slowly, looking at his opposite. He glanced at his hands. Luminous blue electricity was twisting around his fingers, arcing across his palms. Something felt different.

His twin looked at him with malice, and Mason saw that his hands were also covered in electricity, but his was a bright, burning orange color. He stood up taller, filled with an odd confidence that he had scarcely ever known.

“This isn’t over. I promise you that. It may have chosen you over me, but I still have control. I’m going to get my body back.” his double spat. Mason lifted up his arms and felt the chain once more. But now, it felt much looser, much more easily taken out.

He was just about to let loose a burst of lightning when his vision blacked out, and he faded away into an empty void. A rushing sensation came over him, and he felt himself fall down, far, far down, slamming into the ground.

Mason gasped awake, sitting up quickly. His head was aching, but he managed to stand up and look around. As far as he could tell, it was early morning. Nobody was out here, and it seemed like he hadn’t damaged anything. This time.

He dusted off the snow that had managed to creep over him, and stretched. He felt strangely happy, like something had finally gone right. But he still didn’t know what the dream had meant.

Lifting up the bag, he rolled it up and set it under his shoulder. He realized he still had his backpack on, and that the sword was still clipped to his belt. He didn’t think he’d been tired enough to do that, but it didn’t really surprise him.

He walked outside of the building, breathing in the morning air. It was oddly cloudless today, and he saw the sun rising past towers in the distance, filling the air with a pink glow. There was a bench next to the doors, old and a bit broken, but still usable.

He brushed it off and sat down, looking around. It was deathly silent, but he was growing used to that. He didn’t feel as alien as he used to here. It was still a foreign place, full of danger and mystery, but he was beginning to feel more comfortable with it. He didn’t understand why he’d started to feel like this, but he was okay with it. As long as it didn’t hurt him, he felt that any change was probably a good one.

Figuring that he’d be staying there for a while, Mason took off his gloves, feeling the cold begin to bite at his fingers. He visualized the chain again, and wrapped it around his arms, pulling it forward.

Pushing his palms outward, Mason felt a tingling sensation in his fingertips, before a wave of power rushed out of his chest and along his arms. Twin bolts of electricity crackled out of his hands, rushing into the snow and melting it instantly.

He let go of the chain, feeling the power fade away inside of him. But he didn’t feel horribly sick anymore. Something had definitely changed. In the dream, his twin had said something, something about Mason being chosen. He didn’t understand it, but he had a feeling that it was a good thing.

After a few more minutes of sitting and enjoying the morning, he heard the doors creak open loudly. Erin walked outside, looking at him.

“Where were you? Jackson’s been looking for you for a while now.” she told him.

“This early? I was just relaxing.” Mason said. She shook her head condescendingly.

“No relaxing allowed here. You work or you get kicked out. Put your mask on and then follow me. He’s got some stuff he wants you to do.” she told him. He sighed, putting it on, then got up to go after her. She took him back through the building and down the stairs, then led him into the room again.

Jackson was standing in front of his tent, his eyes red from lack of sleep, and he was looking around anxiously. Upon spotting Mason, he quickly walked towards him.

“Where were you?” he asked. Mason shrugged weakly.

“Enjoying the early morning air?” he responded, hoping it would be enough of an excuse.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Look, you may have been with another group before, but here, we have rules. And the biggest one is that everyone does their part. If you can’t help someone here then there’s no point of you even being around us. Got it?” he asked Mason, his voice serious.

Mason gulped, then nodded. Somehow Jackson managed to be quite intimidating, even for an old man. Erin gave them one last passing glance, then walked off to go talk to someone. Jackson remained and started telling Mason what he needed him to do.

“So I’ve built a list of chores for you. Sort of a first trial. You did good on that truck job, but you had Erin with you, and I already know I can trust her to do what she’s asked. So now it’s your turn to earn that trust.” he told him.

“First, we need some more medical supplies. There should be some in a hospital we’ve been keeping an eye on at the far side of the city. Here, take this.” he said, then handed Mason a hand-drawn map. It had dozens of long, square rectangles on it, intersecting each other and spanning the entire page.

“If you follow the tunnels through here,” he said, showing Mason a fairly straightforward path to the southwest, “you should get to the hospital within an hour or two. Go in there and grab anything that looks useful, and bring it to Maria, our doctor, when you get back. Then come talk to me before you’re done and I’ll tell you what you need to do next.” Jackson told him. Mason took the map and scanned it, tracing the path in his mind.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Jackson said, then walked off into the black tent they’d taken Mason’s food into the other day. He came back out with a few granola bars and two bottles of water. Mason accepted them and put them into his backpack, grateful that Jackson had realized how hungry he was.

“It’s not a continental breakfast, but it’ll have to do.” Jackson told him, a slight smirk on his face. “Be back before noon. Go on.” he said, and shooed Mason off. He turned around and walked off to talk to another person in hushed tones, and Mason walked towards the gate controls he had seen before.

Instead of Adrianne, the rude girl from before, a middle-aged man with a big bushy beard was sitting down, scribbling something into a notebook. He seemed wholly absorbed into his work, not noticing Mason even when he walked right behind him.

Mason poked the man in the shoulder, pulling back slightly as he jumped up from out of his seat.

He turned around and looked at Mason, looking at him intensely. Mason was thankful he had his mask on. The man broke into a large smile.

“Sorry about that. I was working some plans for repairs, and I must’ve forgotten that I was manning the doors today. Name’s Brent. I’m, or well I was, an engineer.” he told him, then held out his hand.

Mason took it and shook it firmly, and the man smiled again. “You need to be let out?” he asked. Mason nodded. The man turned around and hit a big green button, and the doors slid apart loudly, opening into the dark tunnels.

“Watch out for the monsters. Be careful, kid.” he said, then sat back down at the controls, scribbling again. Mason took a look at his map, then at the door in front of him, and walked through.

He kept going as he heard the groan of the doors closing. He folded the map up neatly and put it in his pocket, then took out one of the water bottles in his bag and drank it thirstily. He was glad to finally be able to drink something.

Mason put the cap back on and put it into his bag, grabbing his flashlight. Turning it on, he aimed it down the tunnels, lighting his way.

He remembered that he needed to go straight until the fifth intersection, and then he had to take a right. He figured it would be awhile before he got there, so he decided to try something while he walked.

Slipping off a single glove, he held out his fingers in front of him, and tried to tug on the chain slightly, holding it there. A spark emerged and traced a line around his fingers, and he felt a vaguely floating sensation. His arm was tingling.

He remembered how, in his dream, the voice had made a ball of lightning. He tried to do something similar, but on a smaller scale. He curled his fingers into a claw-like shape, then started to put electricity in the center of his palm.

Stopping for a moment on his path, Mason stared at his hand, trying to focus. It felt strange, like his hand was disconnected from his body. The voltage flowed down from his fingertips and into his hand, and he watched as it started to slowly shape into something that vaguely resembled a ball.

A sudden dripping noise broke his concentration, and the ball fizzled away. Glancing down the tunnels, where it had come from, Mason saw that it was just some melting ice dripping onto the floor. He sighed, put his glove back on, and continued on.

Eventually he reached the fifth intersection, and pulled out his map to check where he had to go next. It seemed like it was a simple enough route, he just had to make sure that he kept taking every other turn. It was like one of those maze games little children are given, all the tunnels intersecting and crossing each other.

Folding it and putting it away, he put one hand in his pocket, keeping the other out to hold the flashlight. Going down the twisting path, he started to think more about the dream he’d had.

He realized that the voice, the man who looked like him, there was some connection between him and the double that Mason had seen dead on the ground when this had began. He couldn’t understand what the connection was, or why the voice even had the power to go into his dreams, but he knew that not everything was quite right in his head.

The mist from his breath filled the air in front of him, floating through the flashlight’s path, and he thought of his life before all of this. He remembered the night he’d gotten here, he had been out trying to do… something. It seemed so dull and unimportant now that he had actually forgotten. He didn’t exactly miss everyone, though, he thought with a bit of guilt.

After all, they hadn’t missed him when they all left him.

Thoughts like that continued to swim in his mind, all the rest of the way to the destination on his map. He saw a door inset on the wall, roughly where the map told him to go. Walking over to it, he pulled it open, cracking through the frost that had settled on it.

It lead into a small staircase, going straight up to the surface. He let go of the door, moving upwards. He heard it shut quietly, and walked to the top of the stairs. After pushing past another door, he walked out onto the streets of the city.

He had come out the side of a small shed, hidden in the alleyway next to the hospital. A shudder went through him, and he pulled down the goggles over his face, looking at the snow all around him. Ice spread throughout the street like a fire gone cold, and he walked outside to the front of the hospital.

It was a few stories tall, but not too large. It was seated prominently on a street corner, and he didn’t see any signs of habitation. It didn’t look like anybody had been here for a long time, in fact. The windows were all caked with ice and snow, and the doors looked frozen solid, the metal covered in swirling lines of frost.

Moving closer, he peeked through the windows, trying to see inside. He didn’t see anything that looked like it would kill him, at least not yet. He didn’t want to try for a window entrance, and he knew he wasn’t gonna just be able to break down the doors. He looked at it for another minute, then decided to try something.

He walked up to the doors, remembering how the voice had picked up the metal pipe. Thinking about the chain, he tied it around his palms, feeling the energy pulsing in his hands. He looked at the doors, and tried to grab them with the lightning.

Blue electricity slowed curled out of his palms, coursing into the metal doors. Closing his eyes, Mason imagined the doors, and then walked backwards, pulling with his hands. He felt a tug, and looking again, he saw the doors were arcing with electricity, but weren’t moving.

He stared at them again, then took a deep breath and pulled back.

“Amateur.” the voice mocked out of nowhere, startling Mason and breaking his concentration. The lightning vanished, and he felt a wave of disappointment.

“You’re clueless, aren’t you? And let me tell you, your head looks pretty empty from in here…” it said derisively. Mason stood up tall.

“You’re a dick.” he said out loud. If anybody had watched him, they would have thought he was crazy.

“I’ve been called worse by better.” it said. Mason rolled his eyes, and started to ignore it.

Walking back to the doors, he saw that he had managed to pull them apart, slightly. He took out the sword, and stuck it inside the crack that had appeared. Grunting with exertion, he managed to pry one open, shattering the ice that held it in place.

Mason went inside the hospital, not really understanding what to look for. The lobby was pretty empty, and beyond the decaying chairs and rotten potted plants, there didn’t seem to be anything here. He sighed, knowing that he could be here a while.

He looked around and decided that he would check out each floor, one by one, until he found something he could take back to Jackson. Walking past the front desk, Mason held back a gasp.

Laying on the ground was a corpse, some woman, who must have worked here. Her skin was a frosty white, and she looked like she had simply collapsed. Her hospital uniform was tattered, and she seemed to have died a while ago. The cold had prevented her from decaying. Mason stared at her for a moment, unsure of how to feel, before he gulped loudly and continued on. After looking at his own dead body, other corpses bothered him, but not as much as they would have before.

He moved past a sign that showed a map of the hospital. Aiming his flashlight at it, Mason studied it, his eyes searching for something that read storage or medicine. He saw something on the third floor, a closet that might contain something useful. He memorized it’s location, then walked over to the stairs.

They were slick with ice and snow that had drifted in over the years. Stepping slowly up them, he kept one hand near his sword, wary of anything that might pop out and try to attack him. He turned the corner and walked onto the second floor.

Looking around in the dark with his flashlight, he gave the area he could see a cursory inspection, but there wasn’t anything here. He shook his head slowly, and went up the next flight. Once he made it to the third floor, he stepped forward, his boots echoing loudly in the lifeless halls. The building shuddered around him slightly, and he walked over to a window, trying to see if anything was happening outside.

Snow had begun to swirl furiously in the air, and he realized that the wind was what was shaking the building. It felt angry, almost like it was fighting against the snow. Mason shrugged, figuring that if it wasn’t hurting him he didn’t need to worry. He walked through the hallways, glancing past opened doors and fallen medical tools.

He moved slowly, not wanting to waste the few precious moments of sanity that he was given in this insane world. Seeing something shine on the floor, Mason leant down onto the ground and picked up a cold needle that was lying in a dark doorway. Holding it in his hand, he glanced inside the room, seeing another corpse.

This one was a younger man, lying on his stomach and looking at where the needle had lain, his eyes wide open and frozen in shock. His form was rigid and cold, and his dirty black jacket and sunken, pallid eyes gave Mason the distinct feeling that he must have been a junkie. His hands were curled, and his mouth was open, his teeth shining a gleaming white. Looking into the room behind him, he stepped back quickly, startled.

Inside there were rows of hospital beds, most of which had a dead body lying on top of it. They were twisted and contorted, their forms frozen. He saw children, old women, people his age, and more. All of them looked like they had died painfully, unwillingly.

His flashlight lit up the room narrowly, making it look like a twisted puppet show, all the dolls tossed about and ruined.

While one corpse wasn’t going to bother him, Mason couldn’t stand looking at the macabre sight. He dropped the needle onto the ground and hurriedly walked away. He shuddered, thinking about how horrible it must have been for all of those people. He took a moment to stop and collect himself, slowing his breathing down and relaxing his body.

After a few minutes, he managed to recover, standing up tall again and going back on his way. More corpses lay in the hallway, some in wheelchairs, some in hospital uniforms, and some that were just people. Mason kept his eyes up high, refusing to look at any of them.

“I wonder what they thought before they died…? Were they angry, confused, scared? Or did it happen so slowly that all they could think about was the pain…?” the voice whispered quietly, sounding solemn. Mason was surprised by the sudden empathy the voice was displaying. He shook his head, ignoring it and going on.

He reached the closet that he had seen on the map. In faded letters, it read STORAGE on the front. Mason gripped the doorknob and shoved it, pushing it forward with a loud creaking noise. Stepping inside the musty, cold closet, he shone his flashlight around, looking for medicine.

He saw dozens of empty bottles of pills and broken needles, their contents long since vanished. But stepping further inside, he spotted a small cardboard box, rotting and faded but looking unopened. Mason knelt down and opened it up, staring at several bottles of medicine that read “IBUPROFEN”. Painkillers.

Grinning, Mason was relieved that he had managed to find something that seemed fairly valuable. He slung off his bag, unzipped it, and dumped all of the bottles inside. Tossing the box aside, he closed the bag and put it back over his back. He stood up and walked outside, relieved to find that nothing had crept up on him while he was unaware.

He made his way past the corpses, returning down to the bottom floor. Before he stepped outside, he turned around, looking at the empty hospital. So many people had died here. They hadn’t done anything to deserve it, but the world had killed them just the same. The ice was pitiless, and vengeful.

Mason closed his eyes and bowed his head, offering a moment of revered silence for all those who had perished here. He opened his eyes slowly, taking one final glance at the lobby, and turned around, feeling remorseful.

He stepped outside into the snow. Another blizzard had started, forcing Mason to put his mask on for fear of frostbite. He had just reached the shed that lead down into the tunnels when a rumbling noise gave him pause.

He ducked behind the side of the shed, looking around warily. He could barely make anything out in the snow, and felt horribly exposed. Two bright lights flared out of the snowfall, turning down the road. Looking closer, Mason saw that it was a large, black truck, with metal parts attached to the front and sides. It looked like it was made for war.

He heard whooping and hollering, and saw a large trailer being dragged behind the truck. It shook violently, hinting that something rather large and unhappy was being contained inside. Luckily, they couldn’t see him in the blizzard, hidden behind the shed.

As soon as it passed, Mason breathed a sigh of relief and stood back up, then went back down the stairs into the tunnels.

Stepping inside, he took out the map once more, double checking his path. Nodding slightly to himself, he put it back into his bag and started on the return trip. As he walked, he slowed, as the shock of the hospital finally sunk into him. He stopped moving, and sat down on the side of the tunnel, staring forward numbly.

He needed to find out what had happened. None of this was natural. It was like something had frozen the world maliciously. He remembered, at least in his version of Earth, the planet was warming up. Not cooling down, and certainly not freezing.

Mason stared at his gloved hands, feeling the energy swirling inside him. He owed it to himself and to every last person who had been killed because of the ice to at least try.

Even if it killed him in the process.