Dark Space

Chapter Four; From Hunted To Hunter

A year had passed. I lost track of Timothy when he and I went our separate ways, but during the year something incredible had happened. People rose up and began taking back their communities. Entire towns had been walled off and made back into functional communities all over Britain. People had jobs, currency and bartering became primary methods of payment and the future almost looked bright. Law hadn't yet made a return, but communities holding elections for leaders, it seemed to be making a fast rise in people's priorities. I, on the other hand, didn't care. I sped down the winding country roads, going as fast as my motorbike could carry me. I knew I had to stop to refuel, which meant getting another job to earn back the money for the fuel. I stopped outside I big stone wall with a wooden roof built nine feet above it. I nodded to the guard atop the twenty-foot wall.

"Open the gate!" he yelled down to the gatekeeper. The large wooden gates swung open slowly. This community didn't allow driving through its streets, so I walked in with my bike. I parked it a few feet away from the gate and took the keys out of the ignition. I spotted the pub across the road from me. I walked over and entered. I found several middle aged people sat laughing and chatting like the days before the outbreak, but when I entered, the room fell silent. Nods of respect and even a few salutes came from the customers at the bar and the surrounding seats. It was a small establishment, but it was one of my favourite places to go. Unfortunately for me, it housed Malcom Haynes, the worst bounty broker on the planet.

"Mason!" Malcom called out as if we were old friends, not bothering to move. He sat on a bench that stretched the length of the far wall, with his feet on the table in front of him. His brown eyes were fixed on me. his thin lips stretched in a smile. He was good looking, but he was a weasel.

"Malcom..." I said with a surly tone. I walked over to him; my black combat boots thudded on the wooden floor as I strode over. I stopped at the edge of the bar as a glass of water was set down there for me. I picked it up and sat down on a chair opposite Malcom. He eyed me up and down when I walked in. I could see his eyes trailing from my boots, up my black jeans, up to my leather biker jacket and black skull t-shirt. The skull on my shirt had sharp eyes and bullet holes for eyes. I liked it.

"So, are you looking for work?" Malcom asked, not bothering to look at me as he spoke. I sat silently for a moment, watching Malcom pompously count several coins in his hands, flaunting his riches to the rest of the bar. In response to my lack of response, he looked at me for the first time since I sat down and raised an eyebrow at me. I kept a blank expression as I looked at the boots on his feet that rested a couple of inches away from me on the table. The sole of his left boot faced me.

"Are they steel toe-caps?" I asked, nodding to his construction worker's boots. He nodded, turning his attention back to his coins. "Do they have metal lining?" I asked. He sighed as if bored with my questions,

"Obviously, why?" he asked, looking at me once again. I grinned and in answer, I drew my right pistol and shot the sole of his left boot. Blood began flowing from it.

"That's why" I said, picking up my glass and chugging the rest of my water, setting the empty glass down on the table in front of me, "I guess they don't protect against bullets very well, do they?" I asked sarcastically.

"You're a dead man!" Malcom snarled through his pain. I rose to my feet and leaned on the table in front of me, giving him a dark, foreboding look.

"What did you say?" I asked him in a low, threatening voice.

"I said I have a job for you..." Malcom grunted.

"Good. now who do I have to kill?" I smiled. Malcom continued to nurse his foot as he turned to me,

"There are a bunch of bandits a few miles away. they're held up in an old hotel. They took one of our people hostage. You need to take them all out and save our guy" Malcom snarled through gritted teeth.