Sitting on the bed, Brother scratched his chin, unconcerned. The room was large, with a two-meter window that opened directly onto the courtyard below. To the right of the bed was a wardrobe made of new wood, and in the center, a table with boxes containing piles of paper.
The walls and floor were made entirely of wood. He dressed in the clothes hanging on the chair, getting ready for the day while trying to forget the dream he had just had.
Little Sister put on her helmet, trying to hide her face, but the movement didn't go unnoticed by the other, who said:
"You don't need to hide your face."
"I'm ashamed," her childlike voice came out tinged with sadness.
"Did someone say something?"
"No, they don't care. I just feel bad without it."
"If that's all, then it's fine."
Big Brother had ordered the execution of the people who mocked his sister years ago, without her knowing. Since then, no such incident had ever happened again. Walking over to his desk, he rummaged through some papers, quickly scanning each one.
The knife he had used the first time he killed was stored in the third drawer, a reminder never to forget what he had been through to get to where he was. The iron-clad brute sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. An accident had happened a few years ago when she did the same on his bed, breaking it.
"Any news from the Converted?" he asked, still focused on the papers.
"They haven't returned yet, brother, and the news we received from our people in the Oasis makes me believe the three of them were killed."
"I see. I probably should have sent the other three who were in better condition," he finally found what he was looking for.
"Crows are nothing special," Little Sister replied, removing her helmet again and blinking her eyes, which teared up from the light. "I can handle as many as they send."
"I don't doubt that," he said while reading and running the index finger of his left hand over his lips. "But that kind is dangerous, so we won't take any chances."
"Fine, brother," she said reluctantly.
"Let's go. Some guests will arrive soon," he left the paper behind and headed for the door.
The woman stood up instantly. Her face showed curiosity, but she put the helmet back on, hiding whatever she was feeling.
"Who?"
"You'll know soon, but I won't lie to you. It's a group I hate almost as much as the Crows."
Little Sister showed no reaction. She simply stepped into the staircase and descended with him. After the events of thirty years ago, Ozy had remained in what was left of his city, with other survivors, and months passed without any help from the Bunker or the Crows, forcing him to start a society in the same place. People followed everything he said without hesitation, and soon he found himself as their leader. When the survivors had children, they, in turn, revered him for the stories and respect the older ones showed him.
The people who lived with him only knew how to work with wood and built the mansion he currently lived in, along with other constructions and the great wall they were so proud of—a wall ten meters high, made of oak logs.
He descended the first flight of stairs, which ended in a spacious corridor filled with doors where others lived, and the same pattern continued for four more floors. The heavy steps of Little Sister creaked behind him. Finally, they reached the first floor. A two-and-a-half-meter-tall, nearly two-meter-wide door served as both the entrance and the exit.
People moved hurriedly, despite the day just beginning. They greeted him as he passed. He stepped outside, feeling the fresh forest air fill his lungs. The wall was there, protecting them from anything. It spanned the size of two city blocks in diameter, and near the top, a walkway surrounded it, where patrols guarded the perimeter.
Big Brother walked a little further, looking at the house where he lived. The building took up almost forty percent of the space where everyone resided. To the left, there was a warehouse where the boxes of S.L. were stored. People were carrying more of them, brought from the factory earlier. The trucks that brought the cargo were being unloaded. The vehicles remained parked beside the warehouse, and in front of them was the nearly empty fuel tanker, parked at the front. They were great gifts, along with the formula for S.L., the gunpowder, and the equipment, of which he needed to request more.
The only entrance was a gate as tall as the walls, opened by ropes tied to two vehicles.
"Can we see the little pets?" Sister suddenly asked.
"It's still early," he replied, looking at the gates. "Why not? Let's go."
Sister took the lead, guiding them toward a cluster of houses where gunpowder and iron were stored. The faint sound of a forge filled the air, coming from behind a door, and in the middle of them stood the cage.
In the space where another house could fit, iron bars stretched out. The smell of human waste and carrion made it hard to approach. Sister stood against the bars, excited, and stretched out her arms to touch one of the three prisoners.
Slipping her chainmail-covered fingers through, the girl scratched the head of a man. He, like the other two, was skeletal, wearing only a white shirt and underwear. Big Brother approached, smiling at his sister, who was enjoying herself.
The prisoners were Ravens who had tried to discover their location and were caught. He had thought of killing them at the time, but then decided to experiment. He used drugs lighter than S.L. to get them addicted to the point of extreme dependency. In the end, it worked, and they would do anything for more of the drug.
His sister cared for them as if they were her pets. The Ravens began acting this way to please her, and in return, they received more of the greenish powder. A woman with a face resembling a skull, skin pulled tightly over it, pressed herself against the bars, stretching her hand out towards him, her black eyes pleading.
A wooden box five meters away from the iron bars stood exposed in front of the group. The Ravens' blades, along with the powder they craved so much, were kept there. Big Brother casually walked over to the object, picking up a brown leather pouch.
Seeing the man's movement, the three captives slammed against the bars. The one who had been with Sister broke free from her to do the same as his companions.
"Here you go," Big Brother said, handing the pouch to his sister.
"Here, guys," she said cheerfully, pouring some of the contents into her hand and stretching it inside the cage. "This is for everyone, okay?"
The Ravens buried their faces in her palm, desperately sniffing the powder, trying to get as much as they could. Sister laughed as she petted them again.
"Brother!" A young man's voice called from behind, making them turn. "They've arrived."
"Great!" Big Brother replied, pleased, placing one hand on the brutish woman's shoulder. "Let's go. We'll play more with them later."
"Alright," she replied reluctantly, shaking off the rest of the powder onto her leg armor, letting the remnants fall.
They followed the young man to the gate. Sister, glancing over her shoulder, saw the prisoners stretching their hands desperately toward the powder that had fallen.
The gate was slightly open, just enough for one person to pass through at a time. Two women brought her mallet, which she accepted gladly.
A sound that was a mix of growling and animalistic laughter seeped through the opening, along with voices chatting freely, not caring who might hear. The same two women handed a revolver to their leader.
Brother thanked them and hid the weapon in the back of his pants. He stepped out first, with the brutish woman right behind him. Seeing the shock on the group's faces when they saw his sister was always priceless.
Men and women with line-shaped tattoos across their skin were waiting. All of them had their hair dyed red. But what really stood out were the hyenas, as large as horses, with leather pouches filled with wooden darts strapped to their ribs.
For a moment, Ozy had unwanted flashbacks, of Gessica's lifeless body, but he pushed the thoughts aside. He needed these people.
"You're early, Israel," Big Brother greeted.
Israel was the only one still mounted, and when he dismounted, his muscles covered in tattoos became clear. Unlike the rest of the group, he had a shaved head. Big Brother had to suppress a laugh. The man had tried to intimidate him by staying on his mount. They were a tribe where only strength mattered, and their leader was proof of that.
"Let's get to the point," Israel replied.
"Straight to the business! I prefer it that way."
"Why do you want to hire us?" the man asked, his eyes never leaving Sister's mallet.
"Ravens." Seeing the movement in the group, Big Brother quickly added, "They're meddling too much in my business."
"Messing with Ravens is dangerous," Israel replied, sounding unsure.
This attitude left Big Brother momentarily perplexed. He didn't expect much from them, but he knew their type well. He just had to stoke their greed.
"How much in coins?" he asked.
"We don't need coins," Israel replied, laughing.
"I figured as much, but it doesn't hurt to ask," he said, signaling for an older man to bring him the nail-launching gun. "How about a thousand of these, then?"
Israel looked at the object suspiciously. He tried to grab it, but Big Brother held it back.
"This here is a weapon far more dangerous than your darts. Let me show you."
He aimed the weapon upward and pulled the trigger. The blast startled both the animals and the people. Big Brother relished their reactions, then lowered the smoking gun and handed it to Israel.
"A thousand of these?" the man asked, examining it.
"A thousand." Big Brother knew he had what he wanted. "If you don't want them, I can find another group."
"No," Israel cut in, a bit desperately. "We'll take care of these Ravens! Just tell us the details."
"I'm glad to hear that. My sources said they were heading towards Pit 30. I need you to handle them. It's quite simple."
"How many are there?"
"There were three, but now there could be more. If you think you can't handle it, I can find someone else."
"I already said we'll do it," Israel snapped. "We'll bring back the rings to prove the job's done."
"Fine by me." An idea crossed his mind. "I'm sending three people with you." He didn't wait for a response. "Sister, bring your pets and the powder sack."
"But they're mine!" she protested indignantly.
"After this, I promise you'll have a lot more pets."
"Promise?"
"Of course!" He was sincere.
Sister turned and headed toward the cage, leaving him alone with the group who were still examining the weapon. Big Brother felt that his former self wouldn't recognize what he had become, what the world had forced him to become.