The Wasteland

by Leo Moore, Mt Stromlo High School

A bitterly cold wind whistled through the barren wasteland, chilling the bones of the three men who trudged through the dried mud and ankle-high shrubs towards the source of the radio signal that had been calling them south for weeks. Huddled up in his rough, tattered jacket, Ivan, the youngest of the three, could remember the day that their techie Gizmo had first picked up the frequency on the battered ham radio. The three of them had been mercenaries who were usually hired to guard caravans heading to distant Melbourne.

However, work had been hard to come by over the past few months, and they had been struggling to make ends meet. Their captain, Hammond, had taken out some loans with a local crime lord in order to survive, with the promise that he would make the money back in under a month. It had been two months since that day, so it seemed like a blessing from the All-Father himself when the radio signal rattled into existence, promising riches and fame for anyone who had the courage to head down the old highway to Goulburn and do some kind of mission for someone or other.

For all they knew, it was a trap. There were all sorts of dangers out in the wastes. Ivan had heard stories of gangs of crazed cannibals roaming the burnlands after dark. It didn’t matter. They were as good as dead back up North.

Still, Ivan couldn’t help letting out a relieved sigh when they reached the town proper, some hours after the sun had set. It was never a good idea to be out this late, especially this close to the Cursed City itself… Just outside the town, some people were sitting around a firepit in the middle of the road, swapping stories and laughing. As they got nearer one of the guys looked up, still smiling from a half-remembered joke.

“We’re here for the job mentioned on the radio.” Hammond’s booming voice drew the attention of all the people still involved in their conversations.

The man’s face fell, and he spoke. “You want to talk to Elijah, then. He should be in the town hall.”

Thanking the man by the firepit, the three mercs walked away from the flickering warmth and into the town, switching their torches on as they did so. As they proceeded through the ruins, past boarded-up doors and torched shells of former homes, Ivan began to notice signs of a military presence. Sandbags surrounded the entrance of those buildings and warehouses not yet decayed, and a tattered flag hung from the roof of the town hall that they were now approaching. Suspicious eyes watched them from every window, and suddenly the people sitting around the firepit didn’t seem so friendly. Ivan wondered what they did to people who wandered in without notice.

Most soldiers assumed anyone they ran into were crazed cannibals and/or mutants, and even more, had orders to shoot on sight. So naturally, Ivan was a bit worried when they saw the two heavily armed soldiers standing outside the barred door to the town hall. As they approached, one of the soldiers raised her assault rifle, “Halt! Only authorised personnel are allowed here. State your business here.”

Hammond stepped forward and began to speak.“I’m Hammond, and these are my two associates Ivan and Gizmo. We’re here about the job. The people at the front told us to speak to Elijah.”

The sentry gave them a blank stare for a second, before a spark of recognition glimmered in her eyes. “Oh, you mean the Professor. He’ll be in the back room, working on his foolish plans. He was such a great man once, and now he’s resorted to sending civilians on suicide missions… Don’t tell him I said that, and certainly don’t try anything funny. He’ll be in the back room.”

Without another word, she scanned a keycard and the door swung open. Hammond and Gizmo both strode in, but Ivan hung out there a while longer. Suicide mission? What could this Elijah fellow be doing? After a few moments of standing there, contemplating the situation, he decided that he’d better find out and headed in.

When he entered the back room, he found Gizmo conversing with a wizened old man. He wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but it sounded impressive. Looking around the room, he saw strange-looking full-body suits with attached gas masks hanging from a wall. On the table in the middle, a jar full of swirling fog sat atop a large, crumbling map. A closer examination of the map showed that it was the layout of a city, although Ivan couldn’t recognize it. He squinted, trying to make out the fading title of the map, when he heard a voice behind him that made him jump. “Be careful not to touch that map. It’s worth more than you could possibly imagine.”

Ivan spun around, and looked into the face of the old man. He looked incredibly ancient, with a tangled white beard and thick spectacles that made his eyes look massive. “Are…are you the Professor? Elijah?”

“Yes, although it has been a long time since I have seen the inside of a proper laboratory. Now, sit down child. We have much to discuss.” Elijah motioned for Ivan to sit down on a stool, next to where his two squadmates were seated. As Ivan did so, Elijah cleared his throat with a loud coughing sound. Everyone turned, and he began to talk. “Thank you all for coming. I understand that it has been quite a long journey, and….”

“Let’s cut to the chase, old man. Tell us why you’ve brought us here.”

The interruption had come from Hammond, and although Elijah looked rather offended he went on with his introduction. “I’m sure you’ve all heard of the Cursed City.”

Even Hammond shivered at these words. Of course they all knew about the Cursed City. Who hadn’t? After the Great Collapse, in which the great nations to the North had bombed themselves into eternity, the land in which they now stood had survived. Society had continued on, and Canberra had remained the capital from which the government ruled.

That was until disaster struck. No-one was sure what caused it. But some 25 years ago, a frenzied plea for help from Canberra was broadcast on every frequency. It was the same four words, repeated again and again. “The mists have arrived.”

That was when travellers began to report signs of a fog drifting across the Capital Territory, a fog that swallowed up people, never to be seen again. Something had happened in Canberra and now the whole city was enveloped in a cloud of death. It seemed as though no one had managed to escape the area before the mists set in. While some foolish people had attempted to travel into the city, most stayed well away from it.

“Of course we know about the Cursed City. Everyone does,” Ivan replied.

“There are things about the city that no-one outside of my department knows. Things that may affect everyone in the wasteland.” Elijah had everyone’s attention now. “The cloud has been growing. Although it started off slow, we estimate that in only five years the cloud may stretch all the way to the ocean. From there, who knows how long it’ll be until the entire east coast is gone. This is why I need the three of you to head into the city and head to the centre. From our calculations, the mist began there. I’m not sure what you’ll find, but report back at once.”

As Elijah’s words set in, Hammond stood and stared him directly in the eyes. “What the hell are you playing at? Do you think I’m crazy? I’m not going to walk into certain death, no matter how much good this does for the world. Come on, boys. Let’s get out of here.”

He rose to leave, but Gizmo and Ivan paused. As Hammond fumbled with the door, Elijah spoke, “I haven’t finished yet.” Hammond turned. It seemed as though he was about to argue, but a look from Elijah silenced him. “You need to get into that city, and if you won’t do it out of the goodness of your heart, you’ll do it for money.” Elijah seemed to be struggling with himself, trying to spit out the words. “The city hasn’t been touched for 25 years. Inside, you will find riches beyond your wildest dreams. Help me, and anything in the city is yours. I promise.”

The three mercs sat in contemplation. Would it be worth the danger?