A Weapon is Not a Toy

Yuri and I had to rent a fast boat. Iron mansion wasn’t too far, but trying to cross these waters without something that could jet across the waves wasn’t going to happen. Those warlords patrolled around like dogs hunting for fresh meat.

There were three piers on the civil part of the lake, harboring many different boats from big to small. One ferry boat I even remembered taking rare rides on as a kid for my birthday… Normally, at this point in our hellish civilization, the local coast guards used these piers exclusively as springboards to launch into the lake and fend off invading warlords who got a bit too cocky. Scavengers could use them too, assuming they had coins and the right motivation.

Yuri and I passed by a large water fountain with a little angel on top. We were heading for a building just before the pier where they used to sell all sorts of dinky trinkets and snacks for kids and the likes. I used to love running into the popcorn shop and taste testing everything.

Damn, talk about a trip down memory lane…

Now this place had been converted into the city hall, dominated by a bunch of lousy offices for people running the city. A strange feeling took over, like a piece of my childhood had been desecrated by bureaucracy.

With my fake ID, as well as the lie that I’d come here to help clear out some of the warlord bandits, I was able to rent the fastest jet boat they had available. It wasn’t cheap, but I considered it an investment. For all its critically acclaimed speed though, it just looked so plain and boring… Just a basic white hall with zero unique details.

While Yuri was finalizing the paper work like a good little lackey, I gave that girl a paint job befitting a truly speedy vessel of the sea. She looked glorious.

“What did you do to the boat?” Yuri asked, expressing deep frustration in his voice.

This girl was covered in wings and lightning bolts now. Not cheap looking ones either, I sprayed the premium stuff on her.

“Don’t you love it?” I grinned. “Pretty good for twenty minutes, I’d say. That’s a new record.”

Yuri sighed and slapped his forehead in frustration. “Hopefully this doesn't count as damage… Otherwise we’re paying an extra fifty percent fee.”

With warlord bandits and hazards from drifting debris, that fifty percent fee was pretty much a given. I doubted this boat was going to be docking back here in one piece anyways.

We had the money to cover it, since I did manage to get some nice coin off of the items from yesterday’s little trip. I hopped into the driver's seat and started up the engine.

“At least if it sinks, it’s going down in style,” I assured him.

Yuri climbed over the edge of the boat and joined me and sat first mate.

“Let’s try not being on it while it's sinking, alright?” he said, unfolding a map. “It might look like a straight shot, but this map should give us an idea of what parts of the lake to stay clear of.”

Each known warlord's zone of influence was circled in a different colour. I counted at least fifteen across the whole lake. Only a sliver of safe water between those highlighted regions looked clear enough for travel. It certainly wasn’t going to be as static as the map showed, but trying to avoid those spots was the best chance of not running into anyone unsavory.

Just in case things went to shit, I kept my rifle at the ready. My smile dropped as I considered the idea that I’d have to be shooting at actual people, but it was just an unavoidable part of life at this point. Shoot or be shot.

“Yuri, take this,” I handed him one of the pistols I scavenged before. “You ever use one of these? They’re good to keep incase of an emergency.”

“Only from target practice, but that’s about it.”

I gave him a quick rundown of how to properly hold a gun, making sure he understood the difference between loaded, unloaded, and whether the safety was up or not. It was especially important that he knew how to have good trigger discipline.

“Remember it’s not a toy,” I said, pretty confident he was smart enough to figure that out anyways. “Once you aim it, you better be ready to shoot.”

“Is that what you told yourself when you aimed it at my head?”

The funny part was that the gun he was holding right now was the very same one I aimed at him.

“If you were gonna’ get freaky with me, yeah,” I said. “Don’t think I wanted to use it though.” I placed my hands tightly around the steering wheel. “Dad always said these were only for defense… Just like any weapon… Bare fists, nails and teeth included.”

“With discipline like that, your father must have served,” he deduced. “I’m guessing that military jacket isn’t yours then.”

I pinched the nametag on the front. “My dad served for a few years in the 90s. He fought hard back then to see a better world, only for us to end up in this shit hole.”

Thinking about it was pissing me off, so I got the boat moving to relieve a little of the tension brewing in my head.

“I’d heard a lot of veterans joined the resistance,” Yuri said. “Is it safe to say your father did the same?”

“He was from the First Wave,” I said.

“The First Wave?” Yuri’s expression turned shocked. “Incredible…”

“They really gave the Feds a run for their money,” I said. “With all their experience, the bots were like tin cans under their combat boots. They were even able to get around the chemical warfare. We actually thought they stood a chance.”

“Would you mind if I asked what happened to your father?”

“You know the story… People from the First Wave went on a mission down south of Lake Michigan and suddenly disappeared. Hell if we know where they went.”

When they vanished, that was when a lot of people gave up hope that things could ever return back to normal. Everyone just started accepting the world’s condition and adapted to the new set of rules we had to follow in order to survive. Those that didn’t either became crazy and ran off into the wilderness, never to be seen from again, or joined the very few brave men and women with a shred of aspiration left in their bones that things could revert.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Yuri said.

“It’s not like I’m on some quest to find my dad or anything,” I said, throttling the boat, listening to the engine blast loudly across the water. “He’s probably dead. If I worry about it too much, we will be too.”

If I built up enough of a wall of apathy… Ignored my childish need for answers… No problem seemed hindering. I had a reality in front of me that needed my attention, and looking back was just slowing me down.

Dad was dead. Mom was dead. My childhood was dead. All I had left was my brother, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him lay in that same grave. He had a full life ahead of him to enjoy, and I was going to pay for it, literally.