Peter Wrolling


She got on the Bus and in moments the Driver knew her for what she was. Her tired eyes and thick legs both indicated the same thing.
A Walker.
The Walkers were not like the others. They were shunned by most and hated by others. The Driver discretely checked his sidearm; He had remembered to load it this morning before his shift. One couldn’t be too careful, especially on the route he was assigned.
The old man at the wheel, his wrinkly hands in a white-knuckle grip, kept an eye on the walker in his rearview as she went towards the back and sat down. She was looking around as if being watched, which she was.
Someone shouted “Walker!” from the back, a male voice. She winced at the sound and crouched down low in her seat. Miles passed. A group of wealthy Riders in the front started giving her crazed looks. Out of nowhere she stood up, her long arms hanging below her hips. She reached into her jacket for something.
The Driver slammed the brakes, lunging the Walker forward into the windshield. She collected herself and reached back into her pocket. Before she could reveal what she was hiding, the Driver had acted. He had drawn and fired a shot to her lower right ribcage. Her dark jacket became soaked in blood as she collapsed to the ground.
What she was concealing was a small, plastic, semi-automatic 9mm pistol, probably made in China, not deadly unless used properly, but could still deal some damage.
Exactly what the Driver expected. Even if it hadn’t been a weapon, he would have done it. He couldn’t be too careful. All Walkers had one thing in common.
The alarm blared at the Driver Center. This was one of the many in the city of its kind. Sidney White woke without hesitation.
Within minutes, the halls were buzzing with the hundreds of Drivers in the district. Sidney had been called to Administration for a briefing about his interaction with the Walker the night before. They didn’t yell at him so much as congratulate him. They told him that many Drivers would not have acted the way he did. He had eliminated another murderer.
Murder, by law, is only murder if the victim is innocent. Innocence is based on criminal record and history. If one was a Walker, and is killed, no matter what the circumstance, it can not be murder. The only way it is not is if the Walker is pardoned, and the only person who can pardon a Walker is the Overseer.
The Overseer of the city, which was, thanks to the First Congressional Army of 2123, the only one left on the east coast after the War, decided that since everyone else was destroyed, they should separate themselves from the rest of the world and start over. Create their own nation.
The Buses were the only way to get around. On each block there was on massive building and each block was a quarter mile square. You rode the Bus from your starting block to your destination, simple as that.
The hundreds of Buses were kept in a huge underground garage. They were ordered out in a single file line that went on for miles. After the incident with the Walker, Sidney had been promoted from Bus number 1164 to number 149, a very large leap. His pay was also raised considerably. Driving was the highest paying job left in the city.


Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf vom Autor eingeschickt Peter Wrolling.
Veröffentlicht auf am 11.11.2010.


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