Recycled Lives

by Yasmin Hawken

  Ava stood there a little awkwardly, unsure what to make of the request. She was a little flattered that India had thought to come to her, and that she was ‘off trend’, whatever that meant. Fashion had never really been a thing in The Fringe. The only people who really cared about what they wore were the gangers. A person in the wrong colors on your turf was a threat to be dealt with, even if it just turned out they were an innocent bystander later on. It was the price of the shoot first, ask questions later mentality that all the gangs had. Ava dragged her mind from the depths of The Fringe and forced herself to focus on the girl in front of her.

  “Sure, I’ll do what I can,” Ava said with a shrug.

  India basically bounced along the corridor back to her room. Ava followed slowly behind her. She had had plans to research Seattle’s laws on murder in self-defense in case Glass decided to come around again. Then she was going to sleep and hopefully dream of killing that interfering bitch. But she could spare some time to look at some clothes; it would make the younger girl happy.

  India’s room was sparse, with a standard bed, wardrobe, side table, and sink that all of the Casket back rooms had. India had immediately thrown open a travel case that sat on the end of the bed and was pulling items out of it while chattering on about some AR personality that Ava had never heard of. Ava leaned against the walls, arms crossed over her chest, foot propped up as she waited for the ‘fashion show’ to begin.

  India tried on three different outfits that clearly hadn’t been made for someone of her age, or with her body type in mind. The material either stretched out in the wrong places or hung off her giving her the impression of someone wearing their older siblings’ clothing. The colors weren’t flattering, either. The military greens and khaki gave a sickly hue to her skin.

  “So which one do you think is the best?” India asked.

  There was the darker side of Ava that considered just telling her the best of the shit so she could go to bed, but there was a part of her that couldn’t do that. If she was going to survive in Seattle, she had to fight against everything she had been before. The girl had asked for help, and she was going to do her best.

  “Honestly, none of them look good on you. They don’t sit right, and you looked plain uncomfortable. Wear something you like, and if he doesn’t like it, fuck him,” Ava said. She was tainted when it came to the idea of relationships, but this side of the wall they seemed to chase them. The best thing this girl could do was be herself; no point changing for anyone.

  A look of sadness crossed India’s face, and she looked crestfallen. There was a swirl of guilt in Ava’s stomach. She had been a little harsh. She needed to remind herself of how old she was. In The Fringe, she would been seen as an adult, but over here, she was still seen as a kid and therefore treated like one.

  “Y’know, if you really want this then I might be able to tailor some of this stuff to look or fit better,” Ava said as she stalked over to the bed and started to look through the clothes she had.

  “You can?” India said, her eyes lighting up.

  “Yeah, just let me look,” Ava said.

  Once she had looked through the pile of clothes, she headed back to her room and fetched her sewing kit. One well-used sewing kit that had been used on skin as well as clothes. How her life had changed. She got India to try on one of the tops and pairs of pants and made her stand still while she added stitches to mark where to make changes. It was simple and wouldn’t take her long. It only really needed to last a night anyway.

  “Where do you buy your clothes?” India asked.

  “I mainly buy cheap and alter the stuff I want. No point wasting money on something that you can make,” Ava said absentmindedly.

  “Man, that’s so cool. You know, with your style, you could make so much money. So many people are into the ‘off trend’ trend,” India said.

  As Ava quickly made the stitches in the clothes, she thought about what India had said. Maybe she was actually good at something other than fucking and fighting. Maybe there was a skill that she could bring to Seattle. She could take the grungy, Fringe style clothes and sell them to people as a completely new style of fashion. It wasn’t hard; she’d been looking at Fringe clothes her entire life.

  “There, done,” Ava said as she handed the clothes over. The alterations were minor, but they were exactly what she had wanted. She had to trash one of the tops, but it made the other look so much better.

  “Oh my god, that’s amazing,” India said, spinning around in circles.

  “You should borrow this,” Ava said as she shrugged off her leather jacket and handed it over. “It will be a good finish. I want it back, though.”

  The girl gushed thanks at her and squealed a lot more than Ava was comfortable with. It almost took her needing a crowbar to leave the room. She felt some thankfulness for India, though. She had showed her that she wasn’t completely useless in this world. She had something to bring to it. She made her way back to her room with the plan to start searching the Nexus for Seattle fashion. See if she really could do something. Her future suddenly felt a whole lot brighter.

  Chapter Nine

  It had been a few days since Jacques’ evening with Ava. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since, the setting, the kiss. Everything had suited them to a tee—no traditional fancy restaurant dinner and a pricey theatre show for them. They had sent a few messages back and forth since, but he wanted to take her out again. He’d been trying to find an excuse for them to meet up, but in the end, he had just settled for heading down to the Casket for a drink. It wouldn’t be too big of a deal; he drank there all the time, since before he joined the Network. He had been there a lot less of late, but his presence wasn’t so infrequent that anyone would think anything of him being there.

  As he walked down the steps in the basement bar, the usual sights greeted him. This place hadn’t changed in years, and he didn’t expect it would. The regulars and the ownership liked it just as it was. He took a seat at the bar.

  “If you are looking for Ava, you might as well head back out; she ain’t here,” Hamish said with a chuckle as he stopped before him.

  “I have no idea what you are talking about. Are you gonna get me a beer or not?” Jacques asked with an awkward laugh.

  “Sure you don’t. You have no idea about the date you had with my bartender the other night,” Hamish said with knowing smirk.

  Jacques had no idea how to reply to that. Hamish had nearly been his father-in-law at one point. He had been so in love with Glass that he’d actually been considering proposing to her. Even after everything that had gone wrong between them, he really didn’t like the idea of telling her Father that he liked someone else. Hamish had been there for him when nobody else was.

  “Did she tell you?” Jacques asked.

  “No, I’m just a fucking mind reader,” Hamish said sarcastically as he slid a bottle of beer over the bar to Jacques.

  “You know, old man, one day that sass is going to be the end of you,” Jacques said cockily.

  “It’ll take a lot to kill me, Jacques, don’t you worry,” Hamish responded. “So are you going to tell me about this date?”

  “It wasn’t a date, not really,” Jacques said. Food, a kiss, lightning, who was he kidding? It was a fucking date; he just wasn’t willing to admit it.

  “You going to tell me about it?” Hamish asked. Jacques was really wishing that he would drop this line of questioning. It was a really awkward conversation to have with your ex’s Father.

  “What are we, gossiping girls? Wanna braid my hair while we talk?” Jacques replied sarcastically, giving Hamish a smile.

  The old man laughed and shook his head before making his way to the other end of the bar to serve another customer. Jacques wasn’t exactly sure what to do with his time now. He had hoped to chat with Ava until the end of her shift and then maybe get something to eat. Maybe he should just hang around here and have some time with the regulars, because he needed to spend some time
keeping his connections up. There was no way he was just staying so that he had a chance of seeing Ava when she got back. Nope. No way.

  “I think she will be good for you,” Hamish said. Jacques jumped a little. He hadn’t realized the man had even come back from serving.

  “Why do you say that?” Jacques asked.

  “She’s just broken enough for you,” Hamish said. Jacques’ brows creased in confusion.

  “I’m not sure if that is a compliment or an insult,” Jacques said with a slight smile.

  “A compliment. With your past, you need someone who can understand the shit you’ve been through, and who isn’t going to judge you for it,” Hamish explained.

  Jacques had never considered that. Glass may have had a hard demeanor, but she was by no means broken when they dated. The worst that ever came to her were guys that got too handsy in the bar, and she would usually end that with a hard hit from the closest bottle or glass. Whereas Ava had some hard times in her past, something he could very much empathize with.

  “Well, you’ve got a point there,” Jacques said, taking a healthy swig from his beer bottle.

  “I don’t know whether this is what you are waiting for, but I give you permission to move on,” Hamish said. Jacques’ eyebrows knitted together as he looked up to the man. “I don’t know what’s been holding you back, but if it’s Glass... It’s well past time you moved on.”

  Now that he came to think about it, Jacques hadn’t actually dated anyone since he’d been sent to prison. When he had been released, he’d hoped that he and Glass could continue from where they left off, but she had vanished. Not even Hamish had known where she was. Since then, he’d had a few one night stands, and his crush on Venom, but he’d made no attempt to actually date anyone. Maybe Hamish was right, and he was subconsciously holding out the hope that maybe Glass would come back to him.

  “I’d never thought of it that way,” Jacques said absent-mindedly, as he stared at the bottles behind the bar. “Have you seen her since she got back to Seattle?”

  “Only briefly. She was just leaving the bar as I got back. I got a quick hug and an ‘I’ve got to go’ before she was out the door,” Hamish said sadly. There was a pang of guilt. Jacques blamed himself for Glass ditching her Father.

  “So you saw the chrome?” Jacques said.

  “Oh, yeah, from what I’ve heard, it’s not the first. She’s visited Dr. Silver and quite a few of the black market surgeons in the last year,” Hamish explained. “I’m concerned she has an augmentic addiction.”

  “Shit. What the hell happened to her, Hamish? She was always rough and ready to brawl, but this is not her at all,” Jacques said. He could feel the concern in his chest. Hamish was right; he was sitting and hoping the girl he had loved would come back to her senses.

  “She fell in with the wrong crowd, Jacques, that’s all there is. I’ll be here waiting when she comes back. Like always,” Hamish said; that sad smile was back on his face. “But you aren’t going to be waiting with me, are you?”

  “You kicking me out? I’ve still got half a beer left,” Jacques said, trying to make light of the serious conversation they were having. His jest got him nothing but a clout around the ear from Hamish.

  “You’re such a smartass,” Hamish said with a chuckle.

  “It’s just naturally ingrained. Nothing I can do about it, I’m afraid,” Jacques said as downed the rest of the beer. “You’re right, though, I gotta move on. I’ll see you later.”

  Logically, he should have stayed and waited to see Ava, but his mind was a jumbled mess of emotions. He knew that he had to move on because it was the healthy way to respond to this situation, but he really needed to set his mind straight before he could even consider it. There was no way he could embark on a relationship with someone else until he was entirely sure he was ready. It was only fair. He stepped out of the bar and turned his collar up against the rain. He wasn’t sure where he was going, and that just seemed like a metaphor for life right now.

  *****

  Ava had decided that as Seattle was her new home, it was about time that she actually tried to settle in here. Other than the sets of clothes and toiletries Hamish had provided and the sewing kit she had requested, she didn’t have any possessions. Everything she had brought from The Fringe had been trashed apart from her nine mil pistol, but that had to be hidden as it wasn’t registered. It was about time she got herself some personal possessions and the first few items to start her business. A few yards of fabric and some embellishments to add to the aesthetic would set her up nicely.

  Hamish had shown her how to plot the route on the Silver Bullet Buses, and before she had known it, she was stepping on the bus to Seattle Central. She was surprised to find herself both exhilarated and nervous about the journey. All these years she’d never really been outside the six streets that were the Valkyrie’s territory, and since her arrival in Seattle proper, she hadn’t strayed far from the Oaken Casket. The bright neons that she had spied over the wall were now within reach, and the thought of seeing them up close excited her more than she expected. This would be her first independent step towards her new life, and she relished the freedom.

  When the bus came to stop at the Seattle Central shopping district, she nearly didn’t get off the bus. There were so many people. Throngs of people moving about the series of shops and food stands. There were more people shopping today than she’d seen in her entire life. With a deep breath, she’d forced herself to get up and off the bus. She had never been afraid of the general public before, and she wasn’t going to start now. Her pride wouldn’t let her. Besides, there was no way she’d make it here if she couldn’t exist outside the Oaken Casket. What would Jacques think if she couldn’t go out to places? Not that that mattered, no, not at all.

  The rest of her evening had been taken up by perusing the fashions on offer in the shops, searching for the best places to buy the materials she needed for her clothing, and watching all the people parade around in their own styles. The main contrast seemed to be between the straight cut business attire of smart suits and skirts, and the more haphazard militaristic inspired getups. Both styles seemed to try and show off the person’s perfect features as much as was acceptable.

  However, her favorite part of the whole experience had been the food court. The place was done up like an indoor market with vendors lined up in neat rows flogging their produce with AR adverts and enticing samples. The sheer choice almost overwhelmed her from sweet snacks to delicious savory delicacies. It had been a nice way to spend her money and her free time, and she left burdened with several bags of items for her to enjoy later. In The Fringe, most of her earnings had gone to the leaders who provided what the women needed and pocketed the rest for themselves.

  As she got off the bus and started to walk back to the bar, she started considering the rest of her evening. She was planning to take her purchases and have a few drinks in the bar before bed. Maybe she would even message Jacques and see if he wanted to join her. It would be nice to have a friend for a little while.

  She was suddenly distracted from her thoughts by a movement out of the corner of her eye. Her entire body went stiff and her hand drifted to her hip where her gun should be. A small spike of panic went through her when she remembered it was back at the bar. She steeled herself. She didn’t need her gun. She could fight just as well without a weapon. She stopped and glanced back over her shoulder slowly. A black cat jumped from a trash can and bolted across the road. She took a deep breath and chuckled at her own nervousness.

  “My, my, my, what do we have here?” said a voice with a strong accent. Ava’s head snapped back to see Glass standing only feet before her.

  “Can I help you with something?” Ava said with an annoyed sigh. This woman was getting on her nerves.

  “Yeah, actually, want to tell me what you are still doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “I am walking home,” Ava responded dryly.

&n
bsp; “I thought I told you to stay away from the Casket,” she said. Ava quirked an eyebrow. She was sure that she had only been warned to stay away from Jacques.

  “Actually, you told me to stay away from Jacques, which I didn’t do by the way,” Ava said with a smirk. She wasn’t scared of this girl; she was a head shorter than her for a start. “Shared quite a nice night with him last week.”

  Glass went a color of red that Ava had never seen on another human being. She almost expected steam to come pouring out of her ears like you saw in a children’s book. From the shadows appeared two men, and they flanked Glass like a pair of bookends. Both of them had various patches of chrome, and their flesh parts showed a heft of muscle. Okay, now maybe she was a little out of her depth. She considered calling for backup, but she wasn’t that adept with the gauntlet. Glass would know the second she tried, which would just escalate the situation.

  “She’s mine, boys,” Glass said as she rolled up her sleeves, showing off the well-shined chrome arm.

  “I’m not afraid to fight you,” Ava said as she tossed the shopping bags to one side.

  If a throwdown was all this woman needed to back off then that was what she was going to get. As long as those two chromed monster men didn’t get involved, then she was going to be fine. The look that Glass had in her eyes was one of a predator stalking its prey; her hands were balled into fists, and she was ready to fight.

  “You will be when I smear you on the sidewalk,” Glass sneered.

  Glass’s first attack was easily anticipated. She hit out with the metal arm. Ava got her arm up to block, but it didn’t stop the slight pain from the heavy impact of the metal. It was like she had inbuilt knuckle dusters. God, didn’t Ava wish she had brought hers with her. She was going to have to be quick and calculated, or else this was going to hurt.

  Ava dodged to the side, striking out hard and fast. She caught Glass in the cheek. The weight of the impact caused Glass’ head to snap to one side. A surge of adrenaline shot through Ava, the sting in her knuckles reminding her of the thrill of the fight. She was on the balls of her feet, waiting for Glass to respond.