*** The next two days seemed to be the longest for Julia. The upkeep of the hotel had her on her feet most of the 48 hours. She was weary and tired both physically and mentally. The servant would fall onto her bed around midnight, tired and sweaty. There, in her small and cramped room, she would try to calm down the emotions that were boiling up. Julia could feel the tension, if she waited another day she would explode. She needed an outlet...
"Hey babe, how are you feeling?" Anna asked when she pushed open the door.
"I could scream. I need a break from being the King's maid." Julia said with he face pressed up against her pillow.
"I know, hun." She said it with a concerned tone in her voice, "It can be hard sometimes, but we need to be strong."
"Why can't we just leave?" Julia could even hear her whiny tone. "The King doesn't care about anyone. He just fucks that whore behind his wife's back. Everyone knows it! I don't see why he got to be king..."
"We can't just leave." Anna said while she walked over and sat next to Julia, "Because we are safe and we have food and water. We might not like the King but we need to repay him with our service."
Julia looked over at the middle-aged woman. Julia wondered what she would do without her. Anna probably hated the King more than anyone else but she was very good at controlling her feelings. Anna might have been immature at times but she was very level headed and smart. She always had all the answers to Julia's questions.
"Anna, I love you. I just feel so overwhelmed. I have all these feelings inside and I can't get rid of them." Julia said. She could say anything to Anna, she trusted her completely.
"Well, we could start swimming on our free time. Exercise helps a lot for relieving stress." Anna said.
A image popped into Julia's head, it was Anna wearing a skimpy bathing suit that couldn't hold up her large breasts. Julia could feel herself getting moist in between her legs.
"Sure! That sounds great!" Julia replied excitedly.
"How about tomorrow around 9?"
"9... In the morning?" Julia said curiously. It was a silly question because their chores started well before 9 a.m.
"No stupid, in the evening. That way it will feel a lot better!" Anna said as she ran her hands through her blonde hair. She then stood up and walked to the door, anxious to go to bed. The long days had taken a tool on her too.
"Thanks Anna." Julia said before Anna left. "Could you possibly go talk to Mike and see if he and I could meet up together some day?"
"Sure, honey." She replied with a yawn.
***
Mike didn't do much for the next two days. He did, however, learn that there was a shooting range and spent most of his time there. One of the soldiers he combated in the King's room paid him a visit and told him that he would show him if Mike would teach him how to fight. The soldier stood roughly at 5'10 and was lean and muscular. The man had dark, red hair that matched his goatee. The man said his name was Charles Allen and that he was the last man that Michael had fought. Mike, being anxious to make a new friend, promised to teach him everything he knew if Charles took him to the range. It was sort of far away and it took him nearly thirty minutes to walk there.
At the actual range there wasn't much to see. There were cinder blocks stacked up about three feet high with sand bags on top of it. There were pieces of rubble that soldiers were sitting on so they could rest their rifles on the sand bags. Downrange, Mike could see pieces of rusted metal hanging on a wire. On the pieces of metal, there were three circles spray painted onto it, each circle getting smaller until the bullseye.
Charles said, "Here, you might want to put these on." With that he handed Mike a pair of ear buds that looked surprisingly clean. Charles then asked if he could walk back to the hotel by himself. Mike said yes and the red headed soldier left for the barracks.
On the next day, one of the male servants gave Michael some swim trunks and said it was a gift from the King. 'I don't like it.' Mike thought, 'I really don't want this old fuck to give me anything.' But regardless Mike went swimming that day and he was terrible at it. He would try to flail his limbs to keep him afloat in the deep end but would fail. He did have large lung capacity though, which enabled him to stay down in the water. He might need someone to teach him how to swim...
He got out of the pool dripping wet, dried off, and got dressed. He then headed off for the smithy. He made a quick stop to get his pack that contained the extra scraps of metal. He walked across the dusty streets that were covered with more sand than usual. He pressed his hand against the shemagh wrapped tightly around his face. He didn't notice right away but there was a massive sand storm far off to the West. It was a giant column of sand that stood higher than the skyscrapers. Mike was more than glad that it wasn't anywhere close to the city but it still made the weather rather gusty.
He walked up to the homemade shack composed of metal plates and wood. The top of the shack was made up of two large pieces of tin that were wielded together. At the side of the hut, there were several rows of fire bricks and smooth stones that housed the forge's fire. An older man with a long, grayish beard pumped air into the fire. Mike could feel the blaze become hotter from where he was standing.
"So you are heating up the forge just for me?" Mike said with a slight grin.
"Ahh, you bet! You are one of my favorite customers, and well, the only one who knows something about metal other than me." The smith said.
Mike chuckled and said, " I got some good shit for yah!"
"You always do Mikey!"
"I found it inside the factory over yonder. I picked up a few pieces of scrap. It looked like decent quality stuff." Mike said.
Mike pulled off his pack and took out the pieces. He showed them to the blacksmith and asked, " What do you make of it? Is it enough to make a sword out of?"
"You said you found this at the factory!?"
"Yeah... Why? What's up?" Mike said with curiosity.
"These are composed of a newer alloy that they made before the fall. It has the hardness of diamonds. Instead of carbon mixed with iron... They mixed it with umm... Hell what was it?" The smith was stuck in thought but then shook his head.
"Well fuck. I had it on the tip of my tongue, Mike! Anyway it was a new natural element. Its almost indestructible!" He continued.
"Could you melt it?" Mike asked.
"Yes! I can! It has the same melting point as steel. Quite magnificent isn't it. I will make you a sword if you take me to that factory of yours." Smithy said.
"Deal, my old friend. Deal." Mike said in a happy tone. "Here are the measurements and blue prints of the sword."
Mike had drawn a sketch earlier that day with the hotel's pen and paper.
"Ahh this looks nice! It has a perfect curve in the blade and the ratio of handle to blade is almost golden. Didn't know you were a blade smith..." He said.
"Yeah... Neither did I." Mike said with a smile and walked away from the forge. He wasn't sure what the King would allow him to carry when he was out doing "chores", but he sure hoped a sword would pass. By the time he got to his room he was very sleepy. He looked at the clock and it said it was only 7: 30. He closed his eyes anyways and drifted off to sleep.
***
The next day he woke up in the same usual manor. He would jump out of bed and almost shoot the door. He got dressed quickly and gathered all of his traveling gear. He made sure he had his gun and knife on his belt. He walked to the commons of the hotel to grab some fresh fruit. Since he wanted to go to the factory early he grabbed two apples and ran for the forge.
He got there to find the old man already equipped with a pack and a mean looking spear. With a nod, the smith led the way to the city's gates. Once the gate was opened slightly, the two men walked down the street. Mike remembered where the door to the factory was and drew his revolver. He cautiously walked into the factory and led the old smith to the conveyor belt. The old man's eyes got wide as he saw the abundance of the strong metal. He was about to say something when Mike help up his finger up to his own lips.
The smith heard it. There was heavy breathing coming from the other side of the conveyor belt. Mike grabbed the spear from the blacksmith's hand and stealthily walked to the source of the snoring. Mike saw the filthy body's chest rise and fall. Without a second thought, Mike plunged the spear into the body over and over again. The person tried to scream but was silenced when the spear landed into the victim's skull. It must have been gruesome because Mike could hear the smith's vomit splatter against the floor while he was pulling the spear free from the corpse's head. It all happened in a matter of seconds and didn't bother Michael at all to think he was taking another life.
"Are you okay?" Mike asked.
"Yeah, just something I ate." The smith answered, "Let's grab a few pieces and head back. Make sure you don't tell anyone about this, OK?"
"Sure." Mike agreed, he knew this stuff could be rather dangerous if it was in the wrong hands.
With a deep breath, the blacksmith started to gather several large pieces and put it into Mike's pack.
"You can keep the spear, kid." The smithy said frowning at the bits of brain matter stuck to it. "I never liked it that much."
Mike smiled then readjusted the backpack, the weight was a little uncomfortable. They started to walk back.
***
It was around midnight when Mike finally returned to his comfy room. He had worked with the blacksmith for several hours. It was a nice visit. The smith finally told Mike his real name, which was Alex. The smith seemed to be a loner, but he really liked Mike working with him.
Michael remembered when Alex said, "You know, I hate having to talk to people. Call me an asshole, but its like everyone hear doesn't question being ruled by a giant fuck!"
Mike had replied "It might be because everyone is scared of what's outside the gates. They can easily accept a terrible king since they would never think about venturing outside. That's why you respect me... Because I have been living in the wild my whole life."
Alex just said, " Ehh... Its more than that, kid"
***
Mike looked down at his new, white, cotton clothes that the King had given Michael in his room. They were now caked with blood and ashes from the fire. He, himself, was covered with ashes and smelled like burning wood and metal. Michael scratched his beard, only to find out that the edges were singed.
"Oh, great." He said to himself.
He got undressed and set his clothes next to the door so he could wash them later. He then walked to the shower and was about to open the sliding door when he heard a knock.
"Who is it!?" Mike yelled from the bathroom.
"Uh, just me." Anna said, "Your second favorite servant."
Mike wrapped one of the many towels he had in the bathroom around his waist and ran to answer the door. He tripped over his own legs and fell down hitting his head on something. Mike's eyes clamped shut and he lost consciousness.
