The Industrialist

It’s been their second day of traveling from the bowels of Axe Central City.

Well, Jefferson promised that if his bomb would be successful in killing a group of caged Rattuses for one detonation, then he would accompany the Convoy.

’What could go wrong?’ Lance asked himself again. He had deep swallowed gulps this time as inside the cabin of the cargo truck had been quiet for a few hours.

"Try to preserve your energy, kiddo," Handsome said with his gas mask on. That calm, nonchalant voice again almost reassured the kid that their journey would go well. "It’s a long journey. I don’t want you to pass out when we arrive in Broadridge."

It was daytime. Hoping no Abominant activity would come their way.

Planning the trip took the leaders for hours. Jefferson strategized their routes and their stops. The convoy had left early in the morning to catch daytime and prevent nighttime before they arrived at Axiom Trench.

They spent the night in Axiom. It was where Handsome had joined them. The Trenchers laughed at their objective. It was preposterous, actually.

"Embarking on a suicide mission, that’s heroic," Some Trenchers bullied their cause.

Jefferson just let them be. These Outsiders were worse than low-lifers. They were criminals and the attempt to apprehend them was a waste of time.

Bloodshed might ensue and would greatly affect their numbers.

Hence, Jefferson just turned a blind eye to the Outsiders who mocked them.

Luckily, the trenchers harvest their water in the mountains like an underground spring sits below where they camp. These waters were already filtered. Somehow, the harmful biological contamination had not reached beyond the large rocks below the ground.

And these rocks underneath served as a natural filter for the water they harvested. The Geologist could have studied the location and the respective resources.

Thus, harvesting Salt was laughable for them.

"Salt? What a great way to die! Hahahaha!’ Said the other Trencher.

It was tedious, the route planning. Lance only nodded at them as Jefferson showed a holographic map of a fraction of the Oroz Continent and the locations of the three surviving cities.

However, in this case, there was only one surviving city left. Terrabitha was in ruins or probably became a habitat for the creatures. And Bay City was known to accommodate the nearest Abominant Hive.

The Cabin was full, five of them, including him. They had their weapons and bullet-filled magazines. Lance had his double-barreled handgun, his laser hunting knife, and 5 of his Poison bombs.

He made 20 of the Poison bombs and 15 of them were distributed by Jefferson to his comrades.

Jefferson, as the leader of the Rebels, somehow swayed the Council members of the cause of their journey that even their leader would indulge.

Jefferson was feared by the members, maybe because of his ex-military aura and his hand-picked rebels were somehow soldiers too.

Lance only assumed by the way they follow their leader, like their commanding officer.

They moved quickly, embarking the vehicles almost synchronized and efficient.

’What if he was wrong? What if there is no salt in Broadridge mountain,’ Lance somehow developed negative thoughts as the journey prevailed.

"Don’t worry, kiddo. We come prepared. Thanks to your inventions, we have a shot in fighting Abominants. Even Level threes," Handsome reassured.

Maybe he recognized how the kid behaved. Lance was stiff, sitting in between them like a wooden plank.

"Can’t we go faster?" Lance asked Handsome. "We may catch nighttime here on the road."

Handsome would know as Damian on the other hand only experienced travelling to Axiom Trench. Beyond the Trench, he had not yet journeyed.

"I am afraid so. But according to the map, there is a range of hills just along the borders of Asphodel forest and we camp there. The map suggests a cave would be best for us to hide."

"Yeah, but Jefferson discussed that the convoy should speed up to at least 50 miles per hour. The speedometer is saying that we are only at 45 miles per hour."

"Yeah, I know. The map did not show the challenging off-road that we are taking right now."

Lance felt the occasional bumps of their cargo truck, challenging the shocks of their vehicle. He could hear the squeaking of the hydraulic tubes as they moved up and down.

"So that’s why kid, we bring our guns. Hoping you have yours too," Damian interjected into their conversation.

Lance checked his time frequently, disregarding the occasional conversations from Damian. His mind was preoccupied with the horrors ahead.

1700 H

Silence filled the majority of their journey. Even the driver spoke only occasionally, asking about his father.

The Rebel ranks knew less about his father. To their knowledge, his father was only a member of the cause. Unknowingly, their survivability solely depended on his father’s strategy underneath the walls.

However, Lance did not like to elaborate his father’s contribution to the rebels’ cause.

The silence inside the cabin had led him to think about the Abominants once again.

The Salt Caravan was ambushed, days before. Maybe they will be ambushed too. Could his grenades work?

The wolf. It struck in his thoughts like a lightning jolt.

"Damian, I suspect that one of the rebel ranks is a traitor," Lance said but close to a whisper. The humming of the engine made their conversation indistinct from the overhearing ears in the front seat.

"Why do you think that?" Damian retorted, also equalizing his voice to Lance.

"Well, for starters. The Wolf Abominant. It slipped through the defenses. Why it happened is still a mystery until now. What I suspect is a traitor amongst the rebel ranks. He could have slipped the Wolf inside the tunnels and into the City."

"That’s impossible!" Damian exclaimed. The front passenger Rebel squinted at the back.

Damian gave him a thumb-up and the snooping rebel disregarded them.

"How do you think the Abominant passed the walls? It’s on the Southern wing side, coincidentally, the rebel camp is below the Southern wing."

"Whatever you are thinking, kiddo, it’s impossible."

"Shh…" Handsome interjected.

Lance squinted back to his watch.

1730 H

Normally, the sun would retire during the onset of 1800 H. It was supposedly safe.

Then the gooseflesh came, that emerged on his nape, and crawled down to his spine like spiders. The minute but many thuds of paw against grounds emerged like drums.

’It is not yet dark, why?’ Lance thought. He gulped saliva heavily.

"Ready your weapons," Handsome suggested.

Their vehicle was shaken by the sudden thumps at the flanks. The kid felt his body swayed from the strong colliding force against their 6-wheeler vehicle. Lance saw the forward truck was shaken too by the pursuing groundlings, bumping their bodies against the cargo truck.

The forward dump truck held rebel soldiers in its dump box. They fired their weapons, and the silence became chaos. The creatures squirmed as bullets pierced their flesh and black miasma came forth from their wounds.

There was no communication between the rebels inside the trucks. Radio and electromagnetic spectrum were not available in this age.

Damian opened his window. He let his upper body out and sprayed his rifle towards the pursuing Abominants.

"Damn you!" Damian screamed.

They came in numbers. Hunger plastered their faces. The rabid creatures salivated upon the sight of human beings. Their grotesque mouths snarled in utter discord.

The slender bellies, protruding spine, and muscular hind legs had supported their speed. They were faster than normal dogs but slower still by a car’s full speed.

However, the cargo trucks could only speed up to 50 to 60 miles per hour. The groundlings ran around 80 miles per hour; hence, escape was inevitable.

The commotion outside; guns firing, creatures snarling, and the men shouting, still Lance’s mind was bothered with the thought that a traitor was among them.

Probably compromising the supposedly clandestine mission.