Zen's War: Captivity

“It feels like we’ve been walking for hours,” Derek commented as they continued down the tunnel. “I’m beginning to feel like we’re never going to get anywhere.”

“You always give up so easily,” Hector responded.

Derek seemed annoyed, but didn’t respond.

“It shouldn’t be much further now,” Colonel Krakowski answered.

They walked on with the phosphorescent light of the kerosene lantern glowing like an aura around them. The walls of the tunnel were almost nondescript. The only discernible detail was that they were made of large concrete blocks. The floor of the tunnel was also made of concrete.

“Up ahead we will come to a ladder that will lead us to street level through a manhole cover,” the Colonel explained.

“What’s at street level?” Zen asked.

“Well, before the war it was a large hospital. It was called the University Medical Center. I was born there, and so was my daughter,” he answered with a forlorn look in his eyes. “Now it’s just ruins.”

“I know it well. I used to be a professor of anthropology at the University. I used to ride my bike to work. I would pass it almost every day on my way there.”

“What’s anthropology? Is it anything like archaeology?” The Colonel asked Zen, revealing his ignorance of the subject.

Zen wanted to lecture him about his lack of knowledge, but he managed not to. He instead explained it as he would have to one of his students so long ago. “Anthropology is the study of humankind, especially human culture; whereas archaeology is the study of the physical remnants of human societies.”

Colonel Krakowski looked like he had just heard a riddle that he was struggling to solve. Just as he was about to respond they came to the ladder that the Colonel had described only moments before.

Derek who was in the lead handed the lantern to Hector and began climbing the ladder, which was made of steel pipes. He climbed struggling under the weight of his massive backpack. When he reached the manhole cover he tried to force it open, but it wouldn’t budge.

Hector rolled his eyes. “You’re such a pussy. Are you that weak?” he asked, mockingly.

“I’d like to see you try,” Derek responded.

“Alright, move aside.”

With that Derek descended back down the ladder to the concrete floor. Hector then set the lantern on the ground and ascended the ladder. When he got to the top of the ladder he tried as Derek had to open the manhole cover, but failed as well. He tried for a second time, but was again unable to. Then with a look of defeat in his blue eyes he slowly descended the ladder.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to, you arrogant prick,” Derek said smugly.

Aurora, like any mother attempted to intercede. “Cut the shit; this isn’t a competition.” But to them it was a competition. One was always trying to outdo the other.

Colonel Krakowski―who had been watching the interchange between Derek and Hector with a smirk on his face―walked over to the ladder without saying a word. He climbed up the ladder then pushed the manhole cover open with seemingly little effort. They were all blinded by the sudden glare of sunlight.

The Colonel disappeared through the manhole then one by one each of them climbed the ladder and went through the manhole emerging on the surface.

Directly in front of them loomed the edifice of a five-story building, which they struggled to see as their eyes adjusted to the sudden light. Most of the buildings massive plate glass windows were cracked; though some of them were completely shattered. The building itself was a dilapidated mass of steel and concrete. Who knew what monsters lurked within? This was only one of the buildings that made up the extensive hospital complex. They stood on what used to be a smooth street, but it was now crumbling asphalt, pockmarked with crater-like holes.

It was late afternoon. They would need to hurry to the trading post before nightfall. If they did not reach it before we nightfall they would run the risk of an encounter with the Nocturnes. That meant that they would be on the dinner menu, or in the Nocturnes case breakfast. These were no longer men, but monsters. They were not likely to attack in more populated areas, like the trading post. There were many soldados of the Mexican Revolutionary Front stationed near or around the trading post. They were some of the few who had access to working guns. Though many of the soldados were corrupt, they would take their side over the Nocturnes. There was always greater safety in numbers.

Zen tried to remain hopeful that Pablo’s idea would bear fruit. Hopefully some of the men at the trading post had seen Sahara and whoever her captors were. He realized that the likelihood of anyone having seen her was incredibly unlikely, especially of anyone being willing to help them. No one was willing to help anyone unless they had something of value to offer in return.