The man led the bandaged man and the old lady through what seemed to be a deserted city. Towers stood rigid from the ground, slowly dying as the weather shaved their foundations, day by day, weeks by weeks. Any colour their concrete walls once held were stripped off, either by the dry, coarse winds of the day or the heavy rain that comes once in a blue moon. Even more than the towers were the rubble, either piling over where a once great building once stood; or a combination of the two, where the base is merely holding a mountain of grey slabs and bricks from collapsing from above.
It was an uneven, brutal scenery of grey as far as the eye could see; that is until the next junction, whereby one would find it's just the same sight at every turn. The only relief available was the occasional graffiti spray-painted over the walls, either spouting indecipherable messages or depicting crude drawings; at least it served as temporary relief from the drab, boring sight.
The roads were just as worn as the main road the old lady and the bandaged man walked on, but everything else seemed relatively taken care of. Aside from some giant, felled buildings laying across the path and the massive slabs of concrete, the roads were cleared of junk and scraps. The buildings, instead of holding abandoned remnants of the old world, were cleared of its contents, and we're now empty, concrete shells of past civilizations.
It didn't seem ravaged, so much as it's simply barren and lorn.
The old lady held onto the bandaged man's back, occasionally grabbing harder onto him to keep herself from slipping. The bandaged man himself was showing signs of fatigue, as the old lady's heavy bones were starting to wear him down.
The man, who was currently leading a Kertau with a perfectly vacant back, turned behind him and said, "Walk faster."
The bandaged man complied with no visible resistance. However, the old lady had something to say.
"Can we… take a break," she pleaded.
The man asked, "Why?"
"I don't… feel so good," she wheezed from the bandaged man's back, "I feel dizzy here."
"So do I, hearing you talk," the man replied, "You're getting carried like a sack, so act like a sack, will you?"
The old lady didn't answer, whether it was by the man's request or her inability to speak without feeling any sicker than before.
The man led both of them through a series of twists and turns that never seemed to end. Sometimes they'd cut through buildings that'll have entrances on both sides. On those occasions, they could see the insides of those deserted towers. Dust was prevalent everywhere, with the occasional mould sprouting on the corners. Floors collapsed on one another or were buried under the remains of the buildings next door.
After what felt between ten minutes or an hour, they reached a T-junction. Behind it was a giant tower, bigger than any other the two had passed. It shone a grey, almost unnoticeable metallic sheen, its reflective potential hindered by its lesser cousins sitting around it. The tower reached tall, almost touching the clouds as if it's scraping the sky. It is to the point where the tip couldn't even be seen from above.
The building itself had a big, metal emblem on it. Its colours were washed away by age, but the shape remained. It was a fading, red star, with a symbol in the middle that resembled a box with curved sides. The red star in the middle of a piss-yellow wreath. On the base of the wreath sat a building with many pillars suspended over a cog, with one half exposed and the other lodged behind the said building. It sat on the front of the tower, just above the entrance.
A small hut sat right in the middle of the entrance, where two more men stood within it with batons in their hands.
"Aqib," one of them called out to the man and said, "Who're they?"
The man, Aqib, turned around to the two and commanded, "Stand there. Don't move."
Mustering all her energy, the old lady wheezed, "Can I… at least… sit down?"
"Whatever," Aqib replied.
The old lady heaved a sigh of relief as she slid down the bandaged man's back and landed on her feet with a soft thud. Immediately, she bent her knees and planted her bottom to the road. As unsightly as she may seem, she didn't seem to care. She was content with just catching her breath.
Aqib led the Kertau towards the hut and tied its leash onto the stilts holding the roof.
He turned towards the man in the hut who called his name and explained, "Found them coming North from the main road. Claimed they were survivors of a bandit attack of a caravan that's supposed to arrive around this time. They came with a huge bag of bullets and one of them had a dagger. Big one, recently cleaned, obvious usage,
"I don't trust them," Aqib added, "Not one bit."
"You always don't," the man in the hut said, "What about the Kertau?"
"Like I said, a caravan was supposed to arrive today," Aqib said, "Only thing left was this thing. They rode on it here."
"Yeah, yeah," the man in the hut waved it off and looked behind Aqib, "What about that woman? Hell, she doesn't look so damning to me."
"Last time we said that we had a security breach and had half the cafeteria blown to smokes," Aqib proclaimed, "Damn near lost one of our guys too."
"And that 'last time' was five years ago," the man in the hut retorted, "When we were only ten guys with two guns to share between.
The second man in the hut then chimed in, putting a hand on the man's shoulder and said, "Aqib's right. Can't be too sure. Bandit raids' been increasing too; doubt they'd leave any survivors unchecked too, or guns lying around."
"See, Haikal's making sense," Aqib said, "What about you?'
"Whatever, at least we know who has the tighter ass between us," the man in the hut said, "But c'mon, look at the woman; she's half dead. Let her ride the Kertau or something."
"We're almost inside anyway," Aqib said, untying the Kertau's leash, "A few more steps won't stop her heart short."
The moment the Kertau's leash went undone, it escaped and sprinted away from the hut. Aqib was half a second away from breaking to a run to chase it down; Kertaus were rare commodities, after all; when it suddenly stopped, next to the bandaged man. It seemed relatively fond of the man, seeing as it looked quite cheerful beside him, swishing its tail as it nudged its bony snout on his body. The bandaged man seemed neither interested nor annoyed. He simply stared at it as it walked circles around him, brushing its skull against his hands on many occasions.
The old lady took the opportunity and spoke to the bandaged man, "Put me back on it, please?"
The bandaged man turned to the Kertau and held one hand under its chin and another over its head, brushing it down from its spine to its neck. The Kertau then stopped as if it understood the bandaged man's act as some sort of command, and lowered its body for the old lady. It seemed somewhat concerned as the old lady climbed on top of its back, but its focus quickly returned to the bandaged man as he picked up the leash. The Kertau, now with the old lady behind it, resumed its tour around the bandaged man, sniffing him through its dry nostrils as it made its rounds.
Aqib then turned to the man in the hut and asked, "You've got a gun?"
"With me? No," the man in the hut answered, "Ask him."
The man pointed towards the other man in the hut, Haikal, who reached to his belt and pulled out a pistol. It was tied to Haikal's belt with a thick rope. He undid the knot, but held off from giving the gun to Aqib.
Haikal asked, "What're you gonna do with it?"
Aqib nudged his head to the two individuals behind him, "Just in case."
Reluctantly, Haikal handed the pistol to Aqib. He stuffed it between his belt and kept a tight hand over it. He turned to the bandaged man and the old lady and commanded, "Go. Through here."
Without any hesitation, the bandaged man complied. He led the Kertau by its leash, taking it by its neck. The Kertau gave no rebuttal. The old lady wasn't in a position to give any judgement; not that she seemed to be in the mood. She was perfectly content with where she is at the moment.
Haikal and the other man stepped aside as the bandaged man, the old lady and the Kertau entered the building. Aqib followed after them, his hand hovering above his belt.
There were many makeshift constructions within the building's lobby that were apparent that they weren't part of the initial design. Scaffolding sat amongst the walls, stacking on between floors whose staircases have crumbled away, long since destroyed by unknown means. Lightbulbs were hastily strung among the ceiling, giving adequate lighting to the otherwise dark corners of the lobby. Some rooms were caved in and inaccessible by the concrete rubble from the aforementioned staircases. Other rooms have been repurposed. What those purposes may be was beyond them, aside from Aqib, but warm light glowed from the narrow crevices of the doorway, signifying plausible use. The word SECURITY QUARTERS was spray-painted onto one of the walls in bright red. The old lady paid close attention to it; the bandaged man heed it no notice.
They walked past everything, reaching to the back of the lobby. The strung-up lights on the ceiling had already ended quite some distance ago. The warm-coloured lights were gone, instead replaced with the natural, blazing white, blasting from a huge hole present on the wall behind the lobby. A faint commotion could be heard blaring from the other side of it.
"Keep walking," Aqib said.
Without turning back, the bandaged man led the Kertau and the old lady through the hole, whereby they were met with a completely different scene.
It was a bustling market, taking place right in the middle of an empty, concrete square under the open air. The warm gusts from below carried the smell of metal and mould. Bodies rubbed off one another as they scurried about with great haste. None were keen to linger in one spot for too long. Sitting in four corners of the market were more buildings, none as grandeur as the metal tower they walked through, but just as tall nonetheless. People spilt in and out of those buildings, walking to and from the market through them.
"Straight through," Aqib ordered.
The bandaged man kept walking, pulling the Kertau with him. Aqib followed close from behind, keeping a keen eye on him. The crowd opened up like a stream as soon as they saw the creature shambling down through the shops. The deeper they went the heavier the air felt to their skin. The stale air had evolved to the stench of rotting meat, accented by the incessant cacophony of bartering and arguments.
Between the shuffling silhouettes, stalls and mats could be seen sprawled around the place, forming corridors where potential customers were reliably funnelled through to be met with their boasting of products and screaming of prices. Along the way, they saw blades of different sizes sitting in front of dangerous-looking men. There were also large carriages carrying giant metal tanks with tiny pipes sticking out from beneath, offering a premium for a drop of what's inside. Some even have the remains of small animals laying across their tables, all very much dead but not quite so that they couldn't be consumed as delicacies.
They reached the end of the market on the other side, where the concrete square revealed itself to be an elevation, and that they were several floors higher than they expected. From the other side, the view expanded, revealing similar stalls and mats sitting alongside the roads amongst the wrecked towers and structures. Some even had set up shop within the lower levels of the damaged buildings, weighing risk under the prospect of fortune.
Aqib nudged them towards a ramp that led them under the market they stood on. They arrived on a lower floor, where a similar scene took place, only that there's a low ceiling now and the noise was amplified and the smell strengthened to an almost unbearable degree. Aqib continued pushing them further down the floors where they eventually hit the ground. An exit sat on the side that led them to the road where they saw from the view. A sign sat next to it; a bold, white P sitting in the middle of a blue, fading background.
Just as they were relieved of the harsh smells of the market a man came rushing down the street, passing right past them as they exited the market.
A sound erupted from behind as they stepped onto the street, "Aqib!"
Aqib stopped to turn back. The bandaged man followed suit. The Kertau and the old lady went with the flow.
The voice came from the same man who passed them earlier. He was dressed in the same jumpsuit as Aqib, only slightly baggier, due to his short, skinny stature. He sprinted towards Aqib and wheezed, "Aqib."
"I heard you the first time," Aqib said, "What is it?"
The short man took a while to catch his breath before he spoke, "Boss wants to see you."
Aqib asked, "See me? What's she want?"
"Didn't say," the short man explained, "She only asked you to meet her in her office."
"We just passed her office," Aqib said.
"She's not there yet," the short man said, "She's with the survey team checking the walls. She told me to tell you to wait by her desk."
Aqib nodded silently and then asked, "You've got anything to do?"
The short man answered, "Not now. I'm heading to the post to see if they need anything. Why?"
Aqib turned to his back towards the Kertau and the old lady and spoke.
"Get off," he growled.
The old lady asked, "Again?"
"I'm not asking twice."
Reluctantly, the old lady slid off the Kertau. She managed herself without the bandaged man's help, landing both her legs square on the ground.
Aqib went ahead and snatched the Kertau's leash from the bandaged man. He pulled the creature away from him as it let out a wretched moan from being separated from the bandaged man. Aqib then handed the leash towards the short man.
"This one got loose from a caravan raid. Find a caravan that's heading back to an outpost today. Find one that's running short on Kertaus. If not, any would do," Aqib ordered, "And make sure it's one with a dick."
The short man asked, "Why specifically one with a dick?"
"Cause' this one's also got a dick, and you know what they do with it," Aqib said, "We don't want a repeat of last time. Once they start, they don't stop."
The short man chuckled, "But it was pretty funny, right?"
Aqib shot out a glare.
"Right," the short man said, still splitting a grin across his cheeks, "I'll get to it."
The short man tugged the Kertau by its leash and pulled it down the street. The creature sent out one last lamenting moan towards the bandaged man before shambling with a lowered snout behind the short man.
Aqib walked up to the bandaged man and the old lady and said, "Show me your arms."
Standing side by side, the bandaged man and the old lady raised their palms, with the latter showing a curious expression as the former seemed as if he couldn't care less.
Before they could even react, Aqib pulled out a zip tie and strung the bandaged man and the old lady's hands, tying both of their hands together.
He pulled out the pistol from his belt and pointed towards the bandaged man.
"Go back where we came from and keep walking. Turn where I tell you to and stop when I tell you to," he growled, "Anything else and I'll carry your body there myself. Now get back inside."
The bandaged man displayed neither a shred of fear or unwillingness as he pulled the old lady's hand from behind, walking back into the market. Aqib followed after, his gun still pointed at the bandaged man.
Aqib made them trace their steps up the open-air market several floors above and back into the metal tower they came from. He then told them to stop, right in the middle of the dimly-lit lobby.
"To the left," he said.
The bandaged man heed his orders and walked straight to the left. Aqib walked past him and went to one of the doors. He reached into one of his jumpsuit's many pockets and pulled out a ring of keys. He unlocked the door and pushed it inwards.
The room was small and dark, with three chairs and a large desk sitting between them. Another door sat on the side of the room, but Aqib left it alone. He reached towards the wall and clicked on something. The room lit up, a bright, white light bursting from a single lightbulb hanging over the desk. With a clearer view, they could now see a gigantic map, hanging over the inside wall of the room. Many contours and lines formed across it, but there was one thick red squiggly ridge that separates the map into two parts. Before anyone could read any of it, Aqib pushed the two into the room and commanded them.
"Sit," he said, directing the barrel of the pistol towards the two chairs, facing away from the door.
Without a second word, he shut the door and locked it, leaving the bandaged man and the old lady to sort themselves out. He stood outside, waiting for the Boss's arrival.
As he stood and waited, he made some slight calculations in his head, wondering the next course of action to take with these potential dangers. He regretted many things along the way, including letting them walk through the outside of their town and giving them the chance to remember the layout. The town was specifically built within the inner parts of the city so bandits would have a hard time finding their way there, and he just showed those two the way. He lamented even taking them inside the town, where they could discern the layout of the town, even for a short while. He blamed himself for even letting them get close to him, though he wouldn't have kept a close eye if he didn't keep them within arm's reach. Suicide bombing wasn't an uncommon thing, and to think that he gave those two the opportunity, whether or not they had the intent or not.
Aqib chucked his mistakes to his age, and the comfort of the town softening his methods. He couldn't cave into the safe glow of the town; it was cruel methods and strict laws that kept it the way it was. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. He pulled up the pistol, examining it.
This was a different gun than the revolver. It was a black, sleek pistol with a wooden grip that resembled a broom handle. Sitting between the trigger guard and the long, thin barrel was a box, welded together with the dark frame of the pistol. Its bolt sat above the grip, locked vertically with the barrel.
He already had a bad feeling when he saw the bandaged man. The old lady may be a bad liar but the guy took the crown. His silence and creepy demeanour spoke volumes of danger to him.
He slid the pistol back into his belt, preparing himself, in case his intuition came true. That was often the case, so in a way, he was preparing for inevitability.
