John sat in the office. It had taken the slave crew nearly two days to remove the worst of the debris from the remains of the pounder hall. They had been made to work non-stop through the night. A couple of the slaves had collapsed from exhaustion and were dragged off and dumped in the slaves' dormitory. They would be placed on furnace duty as punishment. It looked like they could still operate five out of the six pounders, which was a miracle considering the devastation from the roof collapse. Initially, they had suspected that four pounders may have been damaged, but that was not the case once the debris had been cleared. Eight bodies had been recovered on the site so far. Well, not precisely eight bodies, more like seven and a bit. Carmichael had been found obliterated at the base of the column that had buried itself into the concrete floor.

Monty had not long since returned to witness the fate of the site and the hands of the storm. Monty was the name of Silver-hair, which they called him behind his back, and after John had given him an update on what had happened, he had gone mental. John could not remember ever seeing him as furious as he had been. It was not John’s fault for what nature had caused, but every guard on the site was on tenterhooks due to the outrage from Monty and then the anger that John was now showing due to his dressing down. Monty had even kicked one of his vehicles in the side, creating a large dent. For him to do that to one of his most treasured possessions, John knew not to get in his way and had scuttled back over to the site, promising that he would get production back up and running as fast as he could.

John was walking across the factory from the guard’s dorm when he heard the alarm raised by one of the guards. “What the fuck now?”

“Come here, boss, see for yourself.” the guard called to him.

John followed the guard over to the outbuilding behind the cutting shop. This building was used to hold some supplies, nothing important, and he never came here usually. The guard walked around the back, pointing up at the fence. John could see the tattered remains of a blanket resting over the top of the fence. “What the hell! Why has this only just been noticed? Who the hell has been on patrol? I will have their damn hide for this!”

The guard who had informed him cowered at his outrage. “Not sure, boss, I just noticed it now. One of them must have escaped during the collapse.”

“Shit, that’s going to piss the boss off more, and he is already at boiling point. We need to check the bodies and see which one of the little shits it was. Get the rest of them in the yard. NOW!” he screamed. The guard jogged off immediately to carry out his instructions.

John walked over to the cutting shop where the recovered bodies had been placed. He knew the three guards remains had been moved out already and buried. The slaves would end up in the furnaces once it was back up to full speed. Once he had checked each of the corpses and their mangled and battered remains, he went back out to the yard. The slaves lined up as ordered, and he started walking the lines. He got to the end of the last line and then bellowed, “Where the fuck is she?”.

“Who?” one of the guards asked.

“That cute one, you know, the one who has been here a few years.”

Realisation flicked over the guard’s face, and several guards started muttering as they also realised who he was referring to. “Damn, that sneaky little bitch. She has already been gone two days and could be halfway to the West Coast by now. We need to find her and bring her back.”

“We could always hire a tracker?” one of the guards said. “I believe that Sniffer is currently in town collecting supplies.”

“Do you know how much that prick charges for tracking?” replied John. He had used Sniffer a couple of years ago when two slaves had tried to run, and within three days, he had brought them back to the factory. John had thrived in the torture of the slaves on their return, making examples of them both before they had eventually been killed and thrown in the furnaces. That had been before they installed the razor wire. The original chain link fence, although 12 feet tall, had not been enough of a deterrent. “Let’s start the furnaces, and I want to see if we can get those pounders running. Make sure you disconnect the pipes from number four. If that tries to do anything, it's likely to collapse, and we have just finished clearing this shit up as it is.”

“Will do. Time to start working for a living.” he turned and shouted at the slaves. The guards split them into the shifts they needed, ensuring those who had collapsed during the clean-up exercise were added onto furnace duty. All the drivers knew that it was the most hated of the jobs. With slumped and very weary shoulders, the slaves headed off to their respective stations. Many had enjoyed the change and the fresh air from working outdoors, and the only bonus now about the pounders was that they now had no roof, meaning that the slaves would get to see daylight at least and even fresh air while they worked. The obvious downside was that it had no roof, so they would be at the mercy of the weather.

“Kristoff”

“Yes Boss.”

“Find out who the hell was supposed to be on patrol the day of the accident, will you? If I hire Sniffer, whoever the prick was supposed to be doing the fence is paying for it- and the day after, because they did not bother checking either. They can pay for Sniffer between them. Tell them I can always make them if they don’t want to pay!”

“No worries, Boss.”

“Oh, and also, once the furnaces are fired up, dispose of those bodies. They are starting to stink the cutting shop out.”

“Will do” Kristoff replied.

The boss was going to be so pissed, and John did not fancy going over to tell him about this latest issue. The last time it had happened on John’s watch, the boss had made him pay to hire Sniffer. Well, not that he paid, as he made all the guards chip in for it, and he made money collecting more than Sniffer cost.

∆∆∆

Three days had now passed since they had first returned from the factory. Tabs could start putting weight onto her ankle. The foul-smelling salve had fantastic healing powers. The swelling had begun to reduce significantly, and she knew that nothing serious had been damaged as her display had turned back to a dark yellow colour. She was even able to pull her other boot on loosely. It may take a while to regain her strength, but at least it was healing well. Her main display had continued to turn a darker hue of green, and she had eventually spoken to Kyto about it as she had been worried. The look of confusion on his face had initially concerned her, but he had explained that his display was always green and always had been and only ever changed to yellow or red if he was injured or unwell. Tabs had no idea that she had never been healthy the whole time since she had come of age.

She looked at Kyto, who seemed to take everything in his stride. Nothing seemed to bother or phase him. He was a calming influence on her and the usual paranoia she had survived over the past several years. He had not tried to approach or do anything to her. He was friendly, open, kind, and generous. He always considered what was needed for both, never just for himself. He also always had an answer for everything. He had gone out of his way, potentially putting himself in danger to help her, and she assumed from his behaviour that he thought nothing of it. This, she found endearing.

Each morning, Kyto would rustle up some breakfast. Sometimes, it was fruit-based; other times, it was meat-based. She was eating two meals a day, which she had admitted to him that her body was struggling to get used to. After every meal, she felt lethargic and just wanted to close her eyes and within the safety of the farmhouse, she had been doing so. During the day, Kyto would disappear out scavenging. He had not been back to the industrial area but had visited several disused farms around the area. He would arrive back with some weird and fabulous finds. She had no idea what most items could be used for. Kyto would sit there dismantling the items and learning how they operated. He would do this late into the evening, even once the light faded and the shutters closed. He would sit by a candle, work on something, or read a book.

They did not talk much; it was a strange, comforting feeling for Tabs, as if they did not need to. She eventually started to open up to him and explain her past. She briefly mentioned her time with the Raiders and then at the factory. Not that there was much to explain about the factory, as the routine had never changed. Whenever she did mention raiders or slavers, she always noted the look of anger that crept onto Kyto’s face. He tried to hide it, but she could see it got to him.

During the evening of the third day, Kyto was again working on his. What did he call it? ‘Radio’ she thought that a voice erupted from it, the voice sent a chill down her spine. The radio quickly picked up a conversation, but the voice was unmistakable, as she had heard it every day for six years. All they caught of the discussion was, “…. we need to find the bitch.” Before the radio cut out again.

Panic shot through every inch of her body, and she instantly broke out in a cold sweat. She couldn’t think suddenly, and her words came out in a jumble, “I can’t need to go back to leave……”

“What?” Kyto said, looking at her with a confused expression.

“I can’t go back there. I need to leave here and get as far away as possible.”

“Hang on, what do you mean? Do you think they are referring to you? That could be anyone?”

“I have hated and feared that voice for over six years; that was the head guard at the site; he is a sick and violent man. I have seen him kill several people with his punishments. On one occasion, he forced Charlotte, who had taken a second bowl of gruel, to put her hands under one of the pounders as punishment. He made all the slaves watch, and he just stood there laughing at her as she bled out from the wounds she received. On another occasion, Ty dropped one of the crucibles of metal, moving it from the furnace to the pounders, so he forced him to pick it up with his bare hands. Ty never used his hands again. After that, they were so badly burned, and eventually, he died due to infection. Also, a couple of years ago, two brothers, Andy and Tim, escaped one night and were captured and returned. And he tortured them in the yard first thing in the morning and last thing at night, beating them and making us all watch until they both eventually died from their injuries. If he is saying we need to find the bitch, then he must be talking about me!”

Kyto sat thinking for a minute. “I will go scouting tomorrow and see what I can find out. I can go and offer repair services and may be able to gather some information.”

“You can’t go near there; it’s too dangerous.”

“I will be fine. While I was at the township the other day, I saw one of the guards from the factory. I spoke to one of them briefly while fixing the water pump. He told me there had been an accident at the factory due to the storm, and they needed work done. I was not sure how long I would be in the area then, but I can use it to visit there.”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“You spoke to guards from the site? I thought they all stayed in their dormitory?”

“I guess not, as this guy was walking with his wife and son then.”

Tabs had a look of shock on her face. She had never even considered that the guards may have families. “I am not sure it is a good idea.”

Kyto just smiled at her, “Don’t worry about me. Anyway, you need another couple of days before we could even consider travelling on that ankle.”

She didn’t know what to say then, so she thought it best to stay quiet. She knew she had to try to talk him out of it.

∆∆∆

Kyto woke up early the following day. Tabs was still asleep, and she lay cuddled under the blanket on the mattress. He had given her the mattress to sleep on as he didn’t mind where he slept. He was used to sleeping wherever he could find shelter, and the weather was warm enough that he did not need a blanket. He would have to try and get another one, though, as the weather would turn eventually, and winter would come with a vengeance; it always did. He knew how Tabs reacted yesterday. She was unhappy with him going to the factory, so he decided to leave before she awoke. He took out some dried fruit and a canteen of water and left it on the side. He then quietly opened the shutters and scaled down the wall. The sun had just risen, and the fields were covered in a hazy mist. He could see the vapour clouds rising off the dew-soaked grass as the sun evaporated the moisture. It looked serene and peaceful.

He set off briskly; he knew where he was going and wasn’t worried about using the roads to get there so he could travel easier than crossing the fields. He made good time and eventually reached the outskirts of the industrial area just as the sun had found its full strength and was basking the sides of the buildings with an orange glow. He walked purposefully down the main road straight towards the townhouse and the site entrance. As he neared the townhouse, he witnessed a truck approaching the front gates. He could make out a large cage on its back but not what was in it. He thought it might be more slaves being delivered. A man sitting at the top of the steps of the townhouse on the porch jumped up when he saw Kyto approach and pointed a pistol at him. “What do you want?” he called.

“No need for that”, Kyto said, raising his hands into the air, “I spoke to one of the guards in the township the other day, and he mentioned you had suffered damage during the recent storm. I have some spare time between jobs and thought I would see if there was anything that I can help with.” Kyto said.

“Which guard?”

“I have no idea of his name. He was in town with his wife and young son.”

“Samuels. I will have to check with the boss.” The man stood and walked into the townhouse. Kyto stood on the steps, looking over in the direction of the factory site. The truck had been let in, and two men were standing by it talking to each other. One of the men was huge and obese, and Kyto thought he must be the head guard Tabs had mentioned. The other man was thin and wiry-looking. His features were not visible at this distance.

∆∆∆

John saw the truck pull up at the factory gates. He recognised the miserable bastard at the wheel immediately. It was Sniffer. He was a treacherous hound, and his beast ten times worse. However, John disliked him intensely; his reputation preceded him, and he was highly sought after due to his beast’s ability to track. A thick iron-barred cage was on the truck's flatbed, and inside the cage was the largest and fiercest-looking Wild One he had ever seen. This was not the same beast he had met previously and looked substantially larger. It stood about four feet tall at the shoulder, nearly three feet across the front of its body, with a head the size of a large car wheel. It was huge and an evil-looking Wild One. He could see large globules of saliva dripping from the beast’s mouth. The site gates opened, and Sniffer drove in, pulling up by the guard’s dorm block. He climbed out of his truck, went round to the cage, and started scratching the monstrosity behind its ear through the bars. John walked out of the dorm office and up to Sniffer.

“Sniffer,” he said briskly.

“John.”

Some years ago, when John had been working on a plantation as a slaver, he met Sniffer for the first time. It wasn’t long after the raiding group he had been with had collapsed. Well, self-imploded was the best description. John’s dad had been a raider for years and brought him up since day one in the group, his mother being one of the raiders' bitches. He had loved and lived a raider's life. His dad had passed away after being stabbed during a brawl with one of the other raiders, who was banished as punishment by Lance.

Lance was the leader, and at the time, his second Chris had taken John under his wing in his teens. The group self-imploded when Chris decided to steal one of the women Lance had been saving for a special occasion. He had kept her away from all the other raiders, and it had been rumoured she was even a virgin, which Chris had then confirmed after he had raped her. This had caused fits of laughter between the raiders until Lance found out.

Lance had gone into a psychotic rage. None of them had ever expected him to react the way he did. He had walked into the centre of their encampment and opened fire on anyone within sight with the only assault rifle the raid group owned. Chris had gone down first sprayed with several rounds from the weapon, and then he had continued picking off any other raiders that were in the area.

John had reacted to seeing Chris get killed, and it was John who had managed to put Lance down. He had taken two rounds in his shoulder in the process, trying to attack him as he was reloading. He had not been quick enough with his charge, but he had ploughed into him, flattening him with his substantial size. John had never been small and had sent Lance crashing to the ground and then proceeded to batter him to death. Due to the raid group losing Lance and Chris, a power struggle ensued, resulting in the group fracturing, and most of the raiders went their separate ways. This is when John and Carmichael headed East and started work at the plantation.

John had thrived as a slaver at the plantation and had taken over as lead after an unfortunate accident had shortened the life of the previous leader, Sam. He had ‘apparently’ tripped after getting drunk on nectar and cracked his head open, being found the next morning dead. John knew the truth and that he had killed him for the chance to be led. The slaves were your usual run-of-the-mill bunch, but since they worked in open fields, there was always some idiot who thought they could escape. On one such occasion, one of the slaves had managed to break out of where they were held and had fled across the fields. When they hadn’t been accounted for the following day, the owner told him to bring in Sniffer. That was his first meeting with Sniffer, and he had disliked him ever since. The plantation owner did not care about the slave and just wanted him dead, so the beast that Sniffer had was given a kill order, and it just went hunting. Sniffer had not even left the plantation. He had just set the beast off and then spent two days drinking John’s nectar supply and playing dice. Two days later, the beast had returned carrying the head of the slave that had escaped in its jaws. John could not argue with the efficiency of the beast, but the fact that Sniffer had done nothing infuriated him.

∆∆∆

The door to the townhouse opened.

“Come in and wipe your feet. The boss is just finishing his breakfast. He will see you in a few minutes.” He walked Kyto into a large reception room. “Wait here.”

Kyto was amazed and disgusted at the luxury of the townhouse. It had to be one of the most extravagant buildings he had ever seen. There were lavish furnishings everywhere, and the walls in the room he was waiting in were covered from floor to ceiling in bookcases. He would have to scavenge for a year to afford one of the exceedingly soft chairs he decided to sit in, never mind the books that filled the shelves.

Several minutes later, Kyto was standing and reading the book covers. The one that caught his attention the most was very old-looking with yellowed pages, and the faded and worn title read The Origin of Species by Charles Darwin. He wished he had time to stay and work through the bookshelves as books were more valuable than most. He had accidentally considered dropping one into his backpack but could not justify the chance of being caught. A tall, elegantly dressed man walked into the room. He had the brightest silver hair Kyto could remember seeing, and he recognised him immediately from his first visit to the site. He was of medium build and taller than Kyto by a few centimetres. He looked to be in his fifties and held a presence. “I believe you are here to carry out some repair work.”

“Yes, sir, I hope to. I was informed by Samuels that you had some damage from the recent storm and required some work.”

“I wouldn’t call it damage; I would call it a fucking disaster. Most of the factory roof has fallen in and knocked production back since it damaged one of the shapers. I heard Stan was away currently, so it is a good job you have come along."

“Well, I can’t promise anything, sir, but I can have a look and see what I can do.”

The man looked Kyto up and down and asked. “Where are your tools?”

“I carry everything I need in my vest or backpack, and then if anything else is needed to repair it, I will have to source it.” His webbing vest had several items clipped to it, and he flipped the top of his backpack open and pulled out a pouch of gadgets and tools he had collected over his scavenging years. If there was one thing he would always scavenge, it was tooling. You never knew when it might come in handy. He had every size adapter that you could imagine that fitted onto a shaft for changing the heads over, and his favourite tool of all was his multi-tool, which he always carried in his vest pocket. He had found it a couple of years ago while searching an old warehouse complex and never went anywhere without it.

“Very well, let’s hope you can get the damn thing working. Heckles escorted him over to the site and told that fat useless bastard John that he was here to work and to leave him be.”

Kyto rolled his pouch back up and closed his backpack. The guard from the front door appeared, “Sure, boss. Come with me.” he said, indicating for Kyto to follow him.

He followed the man back out of the townhouse and across the road to the site. The deep metallic sound of the pounders echoed around the site and off the surrounding buildings. It looked like the worst of the debris had been cleared and piled to the side of the main yard. The pounders were now open air with only the side structures of the principal building remaining.

“He’s here to check out the machines. The boss said to leave him be.” The guard called through the gate at the large man. The large man looked over, interrupting the conversation he was having with the wiry-looking man from the truck, and he waved his hand at the guard without replying.

Another guard opened the gate from the inside and let Kyto in. “So, I guess I am over there, " he said, pointing at the pounder hall.

“Yeah, just follow the sound”.

Kyto walked across the yard and got his first look at what was in the cage. He had never seen such a beast before and was in awe of its size. It looked as though it was made of pure muscle, and its legs were nearly as thick as Kyto’s body. Its head was massive, with short, pointed ears on top. They looked tiny compared to its size, although they were probably as large as his hand. It looked designed to kill and evolved from pure evil. In all his travels and the Wild Ones he had seen, including Spylore’s, he could honestly not think of a Wild One that looked as evil as it did. It had what looked like very short fur, and it seemed to shimmer, with an almost black but not entirely black hue to it. A shiver ran down his spine, and he turned away from it, subconsciously picking up his pace towards the factory. He entered the factory through a shutter door into the large, spacious, but now open roofed area. Five of these dreaded machines were working, and the sound was horrendous this close to them, even with no roof to keep the sound inside. The sixth one was still, and he started to make his way over to it.

He had his first close encounter with the slaves and tried not to look at them or make any eye contact with them. He felt distraught and sickened seeing how they were treated, and he was getting angrier the whole while he looked at them. The guards stationed inside shouted and screamed at men and women alike. He even heard the crack of a whip. They all looked weary, emaciated and as filthy as Tabs had and wore the tell-tale collar of being a slave around their necks. He could even tell by looking at them who had been there the longest due to the condition of their clothing. A couple of the slaves in the pounder hall looked like their clothes were relatively new compared to others who just appeared to be wearing rags.

A youngish-looking man came hurrying from the side entrance carrying a large crucible between a pair of metal tongues. He watched as he tipped it, and a ball of molten metal flowed out onto the nearest pounder. As soon as it was deposited, he hurried back away again.

One of the guards noticed Kyto and shouted at him. Kyto couldn’t make out what he had said and cupped his hand to his ear. The guard walked closer, “Who the fuck are you?”

Kyto shouted over the din, “I am here to look at the broken one.” The guard waved him away towards the still machine.

He spent a little time looking at the machine and finding out how it operated. It was steam-fed, so the pipework was critical to feed from where he assumed the furnaces were. The issue with the actual machine itself, though, was straightforward. Once he climbed up the side of it, he could see that a piece of the sheet metal roof had got trapped inside the gear mechanism, which had stopped it from operating. It appeared that the steam fed through the piping raised the pounder until it reached a height where the pressure was released through a valve, and then the pounder would fall under gravity until the steam and gear mechanism again raised it. It was a simple fix to loosen off the gears and remove the piece of metal, but he reminded himself that he was not here to fix the machine.

He waved to the guard who had spoken to him and indicated that he was returning, walking back out of the shutter and towards the main gate. That’s when he saw one of the most horrifying sights anyone could witness. As he walked through under the shutter, the wiry-looking man and the head guard came out of the dormitory. They walked to the rear of the cage, and the man unlatched the cage door. Kyto’s stomach churned as the cage door opened, and the beast jumped. The beast immediately sat down by the man’s side. It was so fucking huge and terrifying. Its jaws could easily have fit Kyto’s head in them twice over.