The World of Myth Magazine

Later that night, under cover of darkness, a lone figure squeezed through a hole in the fence surrounding the Food Storage Facility and adjusted his backpack. He turned toward the buildings and gave a silent salute. So long suckers. I’m outta here.

Buck Benson smiled. It felt good to be going. Really good. Rawlings was okay, but, standing by and doing nothing while Langer made him shoot that poor defenseless wild dog and then almost shoot that guy and those kids and the dog…it wasn’t right. Even if he didn’t kill those people, it was the principle of the thing that mattered. Buck grinned to himself. Principles. No one had ever accused him of having them before, but maybe he did.

Speaking of principles, or lack of them, rather, what about Langer? Man, the guy was a piece of work, a certified nut-case with no regard for human life at all. “Shoot to kill” was his motto, with no questions asked. The more Buck thought about it, the more it made him sick that innocent people could lose their lives for no other reason than they wanted to escape the tyranny of the World Order for a better life somewhere else.

Well count me in with them, Buck thought to himself as he turned away from the fence and started across No Man’s Land. Earlier that day, before the drone had blown up, he’d liked what he’d been seeing, especially the mountains. He liked the snow-covered peaks and the trees and the crystal-clear running water. He had a feeling he’d like the people in that little village, too. Thank goodness he hadn’t had to kill any of them. He shivered a little at the thought. No, Buck was done with that kind of thing for good. For now, he was leaving the City behind and along with it his past and going forward to a new beginning.

He adjusted his pack and continued walking at a brisk pace. He was heading for the mountains. He didn’t know what he’d find when he got there but he knew one thing, it had to be better than was he was leaving behind. Of that, there was no doubt in his mind. None at all.

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