Survivors' Tale - The Mad Man - Part 2

I forgot how it felt to wake up from being knocked out due to head trauma. Maybe it was because the last time, I was seven and had fallen off my bike after hitting a tree branch and woke up drugged up in the hospital. There was no pain killers this time for me. It felt as if my skull was in a hydraulic press. There was a constant pressure on the inside of my head that made my eyes feel as if they were bulging out. It had me instantly worried. Concussions were dangerous and it could kill me. It would kill me if it was severe enough and there was no hospital to go to anymore.

So, I laid there as consciousness slowly crawled back into my grasp. The world spun under me and teetered from the left or the right like a carnival ride. 

I could see light on the other side of my closed eyelids and could hear mumbling around me. I didn't really have the capability to listen in on what was being said, focusing hurt too much at the moment. 

"Where- where am I?" I groaned and rubbed my head. There was a sensitive limp above my right eyebrow that I avoided. I could feel matted blood sticking to my hair as well.

I slowly opened my eyes and was met with the gorgeous view of the sky with the tops of trees all around on snow capped mountain tops. It would have been a nice sight under different circumstances.

"You are in the Mad Man's lair," a voice, nasally and deep, replied. "But not for long. No one stays here long."

My eyes wandered in the direction of the voice. There were several people to the right of me, there were also walls. They were tall walls made of wood that went in a large circle around me and whoever I was with, making me feel as if I was in a coliseum, about to fight for my life.

My eyes went back to the group of people. There were seven of them, sitting on the grass. I could see the lack of hope in their faces. I had seen that look before. Hope was rare these days.

"Mad Man?" I tried to sit up, but the world twisted and swirled too much and I fell back with a renewed and angrier migraine.

One of the people, a man in ragged shorts and a torn sports jacket, got up and jogged over to me. "Careful." He supported my head and helped me up to a sitting position. "You took a nasty blow." He looked at what must have been an impressive goose egg planted on my face. 

"I don't... don't really remember," I said. "I was with Orson. Someone with a bat. I'm not sure what's real.

"It's all real," the man with the nasally voice said. "That was the Mad Man and as for this Orson, you were the only one brought in." He let go of my head once I was steady.

"What is this place?" I asked again. 

"Used to be called Metaline," someone else answered. A young woman in a tank top that was patched up with multiple scraps of multicolored fabric to keep herself decent. She also wore a blue blanket over her shoulders to stay warm. "Now it's the Mad Man's home. His fortress." He then looked at me and stuck out his hand. "I'm Dereck."

I introduced myself and we got to talking about what this place was.

Dereck explained that he and his wife along with a dozen others had come south from Canada, trying to beat the snow just like Orson and I. Like us, they had been caught, kidnapped in their sleep and brought here.

"Where are the rest of you people," I asked and looked at the others behind him. It was clearly not a dozen. 

Dereck looked down and away. His eyes waters and he sniffed. "They take them and we never see them again. They took my wife three days ago."

That was the end of the conversation. Dereck wen back to his group where they tried to comfort him, but just ended up leaving him alone in the end to grieve. 

I sat on the other end of the enclosure from them. The headache was still bad, but was more of the throb than a stabbing pain. It still worried me, but not as much as  not having Orson did.

I hoped that he was alive and well. I really hoped for that.

Not much else happened for the rest of the day, or the day after that, or the day after that. I looked for a way to escape, but the walls were high and there was always one guard on top of the wall. It was always an Anthro watching us, gun in hand and a stern look that said that he'd have no issues shooting any of us. I didn't see any humans other than the ones in the enclosure with me, however, that didn't say anything. There could easily be humans elsewhere, Anthros were created to fight wars after all. Guard duty was well within their range of abilities.

There wasn't much to do either. Twice a day, at sunrise and sun set, bread, a bucket of water and sometimes meat was tossed into the enclosure without care. We didn't fight over the food. It was distributed evenly and that was the extent of our interaction with the guards.

I had thought about shouting to demand to know what had happened to Orson, but Dereck warned me that the last person to make a ruckus had been the next one to be taken. He grew more concerned with the amount of time that had passed since they had taken someone. They came later that afternoon.

There was no door to the enclosure. Four rope ladders were lowered down and four Anthros armed with machetes and bats came down, followed by four more. Six guards with guns also appeared on the tops of the walls. Still no humans. 

We all backed up to the other end of the enclosure. Panic was starting to set in and then Dereck stepped out of the group.

"For my wife," he whispered and then ran at the Anthros.

It was quick, but brutal. Dereck grabbed one of the Anthros and began to wrestle the bat away from it when another one came up behind him.

It was one swing. The machete sliced through Derek's head halfway. His body twitched and spasmed into a fit of convulsions for several seconds before stopping.

"No," a voice shouted angrily from above the wall. "No. No. No. I want one alive. If I wanted them dead, I'd just kill them." 

I looked up to the point where the voice was coming from and I saw an old man up there. He was in coveralls and a flannel shirt. A van dangled from his arm and he was pointing at the machete armed Anthro.

"Get another," the old man ordered and the Anthros turned towards the group. "Get a female one. The last one put up too much of a fight." He rubbed his jaw. "The females tend to be easier for me." He waved a hand and they jumped at us.

I was hit hard by a fist. It did the job of clearing me away from the group that was screaming and trying to flee.

The Anthros chased after them until a young woman that couldn't have been twenty-five was grabbed and tied up. She screamed wildly the entire time.

I couldn't do anything. My headache was back in full swing from the hit and I was seeing double. 

The old man frowned and covered his ears. "Make her stop. Her screeching is fouling everything."

One of the Anthros walked up to the woman and hit her upside the head with a bat, much in the same way that I had been knocked out.

The old man sighed. "I meant gag her. Now she'll be bruised." He waved his hand dismissively. Bring the body and her." He then walked away.

The Anthros carried Dereck's body away, the machete still lodged in his head. Another picked up the woman and then they were gone except for one guard on top of the wall.

That was the Mad Man and I could see how he got his name.

Few of the others talked much after that day, but I was able to piece together some information about the place.

One thing was for sure, the Mad Man wasn't always mad. He had been just a normal person once and had lived here during the war. Then something happened, but none of us prisoners know what.

Source for this? One of the guards used to talk. He was nice enough to share some stories at times, but after he had been caught, he disappeared and hadn't been seen in weeks. Supposedly, the madness was more recent than not as well.

I wasn't going to let them drag me away. I decided that the next day the moment I woke up. The headache had gone and I had a moment of clarity that was beyond any other I had before. These people around me were ready to lay down and die, I was going to die fighting.

I had no real way to prepare. There was nothing to use as a weapon around, just grass and dirt, some sand. I pocketed some sand, remembering a joke about pocket sand before. Other than that, I just had to be better and more lucky than Derick.

I guess they thought that I was still being affected by my concussion and that Dereck had been the only real contender to be a threat because the next time they came, four days later, there were only three that came down with no additional guards up top and the Mad Man didn't come either.

I looked to the others, the few of us left. They were total strangers who had lost all hope. They had lost everyone they cared about and had no will. I believed that Orson was still alive. I had a reason to live. I would have only myself to rely on.

The three stepped off their ladders, just bats in their paws. Their eyes scanned the crowd and then focused on me. While everyone else was looking away, I was staring them down. They then looked to each other and nodded. They approached me slowly, ready to attack and either knock me out or tie me up. 

"C'mon you, mutts," I said to them. I made sure to use as much of the species slurs as I could. "Make your bitch mothers proud."

One of them started to growl, his hackles raised slightly. The others weren't far behind. The guard on the wall watched with disinterest. That was all good. The ones on the ground would be too angry to fight properly and the one of the wall would be slow and clumsy to react. I would be that he wouldn't be able to hit me with  me on the movie either.

"Think you can catch me? You wouldn't be able to catch your own tail if it was docked and handed to you in dog bowl."

That was it for center one. He raised his bat up.

"Shut your fucking mouth, leather skin," he shouted. "Boss man is going to make you eat your words." 

The other two grinned and began to go left and right, circling me. Maybe I had bitten off a bit more than I could chew. I was committed now. No going back and I knew how to fight. Surviving with Orson out in the wild hadn't been easy. There were several times where I had to fight for my life. Whether it was some roadside thug with a knife that had more business being called a sword, or being jumped by an angry grizzly bear. Play dead my ass. That thing wanted to eat me.

I learned one very important rule when it came to fighting for your life, there were no rules. 

They didn't expect me to make the first move. They were used to the cowering humans that barely struggled or resisted. They wanted someone who had no hope. I still had hope.

I took the sand from my pocket and with an underhand toss, I threw it in the face of the center assailant.

He screamed out in shock and pain. He dropped his bat, which I caught before it even hit the ground.

The other two were too slow to act as I swung my bat as hard as I could at the canine at my right. It hit him square in the side of the head, making a loud crack. 

The canine's eyes rolled up in his head and he fell over without a whimper.

The other two hesitated long enough for me to bring my bat to bear on the next target. 

He blocked the strike with his forearm and by the way his arm bent, he regretted that decision. He fell to his knees and cradled his ruined arms in his lap and forgot about me. 

That just left one down with me and the gunner up top who was desperately trying to load a round into his chamber. He should have already had one ready, but my guess was that there had been no need for the gun in a long time. They had been living in safety for far too long to become comfortable enough to turn a gun into nothing more than an oddly shaped stick.

With my bat, I climbed the ladder and got all the way up to the top. The people I left behind saw this and I guess it was inspiring enough for them to move as well and for some reason, the guard atop the wall decided to shoot at them and not me. He missed. He also didn't move at all from his place, allowing me to get to him and swing my bat. I didn't miss.

It was good to have a gun in my hand again. It was empowering and the best part was, I knew exactly how to use it.

With the gun and a dozen rounds of ammunition, I went on my search for Orson. I had no issue with killing everyone that got in my way.

The Mad Man had kept me and the others penned up in a small park by the river. The town was up the embankment and towards the mountain. I could already see movement coming from within the town, responding to the gunshot that only a deaf person would have missed. I could see that they were all Anthro. 

I didn't have time to contemplate that as one of them took a shot at me. It went wide, but it was enough to get me moving. I ran towards them and took cover behind a rusty jungle gym, pressing my side against the slide. 

Another shot. Another miss. They really needed to practice more.

I brought up my gun and aimed up the iron sights. I could see the shooter clearly, a cinnamon swirled Anthro who was standing out in the open and not moving. His gun was raised up and we were aiming at each other. One of his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Amateur.

I fired and my bullet flew true. It struck him center mass and he fell back and jerked a few times before stopping. 

The others around him scattered, having second thoughts about coming closer to me and presenting easier targets. They had a good hundred yards of open ground to reach me and now none of them were willing to make that run. Instead they went after the other escaped prisoners, who were just fleeing for their lives. That was fine, they hadn't helped at all and provided the perfect distraction for me to run into the town.

Many towns that Orson and I had come across in our travels had been fortified. Boarded up windows, barricades and such. People were afraid of the outside world and needed to protect themselves from it, but this little community didn't. They believed that their wall was enough. Many of the buildings looked as if they had been untouched since the end of the war. Some even had a fresh layer of paint on them. Walking down one of the streets past a few nicely built houses with trimmed lawns, I got the sense of deja vu, that I was in a pre war town again. Almost felt as if I could walk to the gas station and buy myself an ice cream cone, however, that illusion was shattered as I heard yelling.

I ran off the road I was on and into a cluster of trees that had been planted as decoration for someone's yard. The bushes at the base were thick enough to hide me from view. From there I watched as a group of four Anthros stopped not twenty feet from where I was laying. I kept my gun closes and ready, training it on the closest of them.

They were armed with axes and bats. None had guns. 

"I can smell him," a ragged looking retriever said. His nose was up in the air and he was sniffing. The others did the same.

Damn, I thought to myself. It was easy to forget that Anthros had an amazing sense of smell. I prayed that they would move along because as willing as I was to kill them, it would be easier to stay hidden.

"He definitely passed through here," another, a brown furred lab, responded. "But he's probably moved on."

"We should get back to the post office," a shorter and younger Anthro spoke up. "Boss will want to address this."

"Do we have to?" The last one replied. "We all know that he's going to punish us for this."

The rest were silent. 

"We do."The lab said solemnly.

They all stood there for a moment and I could feel the dread coming from them. So, they feared or at least despised working for the Mad Man. I wondered why. He was old and as far as I could tell, there was no reason why he should have as much power over the Anthros as he did. 

It didn't concern me at the moment. I didn't care about this town or their insane leader. I just cared about Orson. But, there was one man that did know where Orson was and he was at the Post Office.

It wasn't hard to follow the group of Anthros. I kept to the side of the road, either using vegetation or ditches or stay concealed. The town wasn't large, so it didn't take long to get to the post office, which had been converted into the only fortified building in the entire town. 

A second story had been built on and the walls had sheet metal on them along with many armed guards patrolling both the ground and the roof. On top of that, there was a walled off courtyard on the side. I couldn't see what was in the courtyard.

A crowd was gathering at the front of the building. All Anthros.

I stayed well away and hidden as I kept a look out for the Mad Man. I needed to get him alone, but I was no special forces and there were too many of them for me to be able to fight my way in. One of them would undoubtably get a lucky shot off. 

The thought of just scouring the town for Orson while most of its inhabitants were here came to mind, but even with a small town, that would take too long. I needed direct information. I wasn't sure if one of the Anthros knew where Orson was, but getting one of them would be easier and so I began to look for easy prey.

They varied in age, from young pups that ran around in the nude or just shorts, to full grown adults that had nervously twitching tails and lines of concern etched on their faces. No elderly though. That didn't fill my head with pleasant thoughts. However, I couldn't concern myself with that.

I spotted a potential target, a younger, but still grown Anthro with white and silvery fur except for a black splotch on the side of his face. He was at the back of the group and pacing back and forth. Each time he ended his pace, he was near a patch of bushes that I could see a way to. Now I just needed to get to him without alerting the others.

I snuck around the group, keeping out of sight, which was not hard since they were all looking one way. Eventually, I was behind my target. He was still pacing, but had wandered a bit farther away from the bushes I was than I was comfortable with.

The crowd was still looking towards the post office and the white and silver Anthro was still the furthest back. I was about to grab him quickly when the doors to the post office opened up.

All the chatter died down immediately as two large Anthros came out, dragging another one, one of the Anthros I had hit with my bat to escape. He was bloody and even more beaten than when I left him. His jaw was hanging slack and his nose was out of place. I wasn't sure if he was still alive.

After them, came the Mad Man. Old, but with energy in his step, he stepped out into the open and addressed his people.

"My fellow citizens," he clasped his hands together and smiled. "We have an issue and not the kind that you're thinking of right now."

Individuals looked at each other questioningly. 

"Yes, we do have escaped stock, but that will be handled in due time," he said. His voice carried over the entire crowd easily. 

The word "stock," sent shivers down my spine. That couldn't mean anything good. I was certain when they took the woman, the old man was going to rape her. Were we sex slaves? I had a feeling that I would find out sooner rather than later.

"But," the old man raised a finger. "Winter is coming. It is at our doorstep and we, even if all of the stock were recaptured, do not have enough food to feed all of us." 

I started to feel sick. We were food. I covered my mouth with a hand and fought down a feeling to retch.

There was an uneasy mummer in the crowd.

"We knew that this was always a possibility," the man continued. "And we knew that if it did happen, sacrifices would need to be made." He turned to the two large Anthros and nodded his head.

Without hesitation one of them produced a knife from a pocket and sliced the Anthro's neck. A single spray of blood flew out and into a bucket that had been placed at his feet. 

"The weak, the injured... the useless," the Mad Man said. "They will feed the strong. Those that are destined to survive." He glanced over at the dying Anthro with no remorse. He then looked at the crowd, a mixture of horrified and neutral faces. His tone turned dark. "I already know several that fit the bill as useless."

Suddenly, many Anthros jumped into action, pouncing on others while brandishing knives. There was panic and screaming.

The Anthro in front of me started to run away, down the road and the Mad Man saw him.

"Baker!" The Mad Man called after him. "You disappoint me. Come back and contribute," he grinned as two other Anthros blocked Baker's path and tackled him to the ground. 

"No!" Baker screamed out. "You would have us all on your grill before Christmas. What happened to you General? What happened?" His words were sliced away by a knife to the throat.

It took an hour before the crowd settled down. The Mad Man went back inside and his pets, as I began to refer to them as, the big ones that served him, were dragging bodies away to the fenced in courtyard where they tossed the bodies over the fence where I could see others on the other side grabbing them.

The crowd dispersed afterwards. Most, mostly the younger Anthros, were visibly shaken and scared. Others, older, seemed to be neutral and undisturbed by what they saw. 

I couldn't move from my hiding spot. They had turned on each other so easily to butcher and then eat one another. This was worse than I thought. I had to get Orson and get out tonight.