Black Light: The Deplorable Savior

by Rich Richardson

  “Don’t you want this?”

  “Oh, right.” He reached through the bars and took the black box. “Thank you.”

  “Are you ok? You seem depressed.”

  “I am disappointed, but I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to my woes.”

  “Not really. Actually, I’m a little interested to know about your life. I don’t know much about what it’s like living in the Cages.”

  He smiled again, even wider than before. “I would be glad to tell you. My people worship Canis, the wolf god, but following him has become difficult for me lately…”

  He stopped talking, and at first I didn’t know why, but I realized a moment later that the look on my face must have given away my confusion.

  “Don’t you know about Canis?”

  “Uh… no?”

  “I assumed you didn’t worship him, but you know nothing?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Then what god do you follow?”

  “I think my dad used to be Catholic.”

  “Then what moral compass do you follow? What afterlife do you work for? Why do you get out of the bed in the morning?”

  “I still have to get out of bed to eat.”

  “But what larger picture do you aspire to be a part of?"

  “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “You hadn’t thought about it? How is that possible?”

  “I… I… I just hadn’t.”

  He tilted his head, the way he always did when he was confused. “Your people are so strange.”

  I wanted to tell him that he was the strange one, at least from my perspective, but it seemed a rude thing to say.

  “You said you were having trouble following your religion, right?”

  His curiosity was replaced by sadness. “Yes. My people have a prophecy which we hold very dear.”

  “Ok. What’s the problem?”

  “The prophecy is… violent.”

  “How so?”

  “I shouldn’t say more. I’m sorry, but you’re not one of us.”

  I was taken aback when he said that. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “No, it is alright. I enjoy speaking with you. The way you act, the way you look and even the way you speak is so different from the others here; different from everyone I have ever known.”

  “So are you,” I told him, and I meant it. I didn’t believe in his religion or share all his beliefs, but talking to someone who was so different was intriguing.

  “I should go. The Shamans are waiting for me.”

  “Wait,” I called to him, sticking my hand through the bars. “My name is Rae.”

  “I am Sirius V.”

  “Really? That’s such a strange name.”

  “So is yours. Will I see you again soon?”

  “Sure, whenever I bring the next delivery. See you then.”

  I walked away from the bars feeling better than I had in a long time, but my mood fell when I remembered I still had to return to the Gray District, where Scott was probably bullying everyone into doing what he wanted. He was a jerk, but even if he wasn’t going to hold himself to his promise of making the Gray District a better place, Vera and I could still do it. We had a long list projects and were ready to start.

  I walked up the ramp, the walk home having taken less time than I thought, but, halfway up the metal incline, I saw a figure dressed in black.

  I kept walking, hoping he would ignore me, but he didn’t.

  “Rae! I’m so glad you’re back.”

  “What do you want, Scott?” I asked him, though all I really wanted was for him to go away.

  “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for being an asshole.” This took me off guard. It was the one thing I hadn’t expected for him to say. “Vera gave me the list you made and it made me realize that this place has a lot more problems than just vapor; problems that can't be fixed by punching them.”

  “Oh… that’s great!” I said, after the shock wore off.

  “I want to get started on it as soon as possible, so I’m going to go see the President of Jamestown. Tex and I are going to ask for a meeting to see if he'll help us improve this place.”

  “You know the President is woman, right?”

  “Really? I never would have guessed. Anyway, I’m going to ask for her help getting new clothes and better food for the people here, in addition to taking care of the vapor problem.”

  He held something out to me; the jacket I had loaned to Vera.

  “Will you please take this back? We could really use your help.”

  I grabbed it out of his hand and hugged him, “Of course I will.”

  Chapter 21 - Scott Vale

  “Thank you ma’am. We appreciate your time.”

  “I’m happy to help. This neighborhood used to be so nice years ago, before everybody lost their jobs. Do you kids really think the President will help us?”

  “We hope so,” Vera told her.

  “Well, I hope you come back with good news, tomorrow.”

  After the woman shut her door, we could hear the tumblers turn on at least five locks. I was surprised she didn’t have more.

  “Looks like food is the most common request today,” I said.

  “I’m not surprised. When Rae and I first started making the list, a lot of people complained about the slop shops.”

  We stopped out in the middle of a catwalk and looked out over the district. People rushed about below us. A few looked like they were going to work. Some were talking. Some were drunk.

  There was a long line in front of the nearest slop shop, just like there always was. Dozens of people waited patiently for their bowls of hot mush-water.

  “Scott, did you ever eat at those places? I mean, back before you left?”

  “A few times, but I usually stole enough that I didn’t have to. I was one of the only kids brave enough to steal from the Presidential District. There were a lot of cops, but their security sucked. I used to sneak into doctor’s offices to steal antibiotics and trade them to a guy in the Cages named… Caro? Kajin? I don't remember. They all have fucking weird names.”

  “And Scott Vale is a normal name?”

  “Sure it is. Do you think it’s weird?”

  “No, but I don’t think you can classify names as normal or weird.”

  “Oh, I get it. You must have a weird name, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “What’s your last name?”

  “My family name is Ins, but it comes before my individual name. Truands are strange like that. My mother named me after her. She was Ins LaVera and my grandmother was Ins Dalia.”

  “That’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you. You have a very beautiful name to, Scott Vale,” she said, chuckling.

  “Hey,” said a voice from nearby. “You’re Scott Vale?”

  We looked and saw a teenager standing nearby, who seemed just a few years younger than us.

  “Yeah. Do you need something?”

  “My name is…” He stopped for a moment, taking the extra second to stand a little straighter and puff out his chest. “My name is Tom Hull,” he said, deeper this time. “I heard you were the one beating up all the dealers in the district.”

  “That’s me.” I rested my hand on my waistband, ready to draw on the off chance he turned out to be an angry junkie.

  “I was wondering if… I mean… Can I join you guys? I heard you Black Jackets were going to see the President and that you wanted to make the district better, so... can I help?”

  “Um, ok,” I told him, mainly because I wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “Awesome! I have some friends who want to help too. Can they join?”

  “I don’t see any reason why not. Come by the clinic later, I guess.”

  He started to run off, but turned back. “You mean the one here? With the creepy doctor?”

  Vera stifled a laugh.

  “It’ll be fine. Just come by in a few hours.”


  “Your first recruit,” Vera said, after he left. “Are you proud?”

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t expected anyone to want to join up.”

  “You must be a natural leader. It certainly couldn’t hurt to have a few extra hands on deck. It’s going to take a lot of work to fix this place.”

  Almost as if on cue, the reaper rolled his cart under us and continued down the street, carrying dozens of corpses in his rickety cart. Every conversation stopped as he walked by, snuffed out by the stench of gasoline and bile that radiated from his black hooded cloak. Every corpse had the look of a vapor junkie; discolored eyes, saliva turned neon colors and foam around their mouths. The image served as a reminder of everything we wanted to change.

  “Yeah, we have a long way to go.”

  Chapter 22 - Sirius V

  “We still don’t have enough serum. The young one has failed!”

  “The prophecy could still come true. We just need to save what we have,” said Sirius I, sensible as always.

  However, Sirius II was forever a slave to his anger. “We can’t slow down now. The Men of the Temple have finally stopped coming here to preach. That proves they have become afraid of us.”

  “Be still,” the Shaman of Honor told them. “We didn’t call this meeting to argue in circles. The prophecy will still come true and we should be thanking Sirius V, not berating him.”

  “He didn’t bring us enough of the dog serum.”

  “It is enough, for now. More will come later, right?”

  I nodded to him. “Yes, I’m sure of it.”

  “You see? There is nothing to worry about. It is simply a delay. The prophecy will happen, just as we always intended, and our efforts to intimidate and frighten the Omniscients will continue. It will happen, just as the prophecy foretold.”

  Chapter 23 - Scott Vale

  “Seriously? The President is a woman?”

  “I know, right? I never would have guessed either. How old do you think she is?”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “I just want to know what I’m in for. Maybe I should ask one of her guards.”

  “Stop worrying so much. You’ll do fine.”

  While Tex went back to examining the artwork on the walls, I paced back and forth, thumbing through all nineteen pages of the list. As my nervousness grew, I became unable to tell whether the handwritten text was smudged by my sweaty hands or if my vision was going blurry.

  At first, I didn’t know why I was so nervous. I assumed it was because I was meeting the leader of Jamestown, but, as I flipped through the pages one last time, it finally dawned on me.

  “He will see you now, Scott.”

  “She’ll see you now, boys.”

  Tex and I walked through the doors and into a lavish office, with a large desk seated in the center and a woman, who looked to be in her late fifties, sitting behind it.

  “You wanted to see me?”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “We, uh…” I couldn’t complete my sentence. Everything was getting blurry. Flashbacks hit me like a freight train.

  “We’re from the Gray District,” Tex told her, jumping in as I trailed off. “As you know, a lot of the people there live in severe poverty and we’ve come here to ask for your help.”

  “What is it you want me to do, exactly?”

  “Scott, give her the list.”

  Still unable to speak, I handed the pages to her.

  “I found this journal in the drug lab. It says that the Men of the Temple were producing vapor and were one of the reasons the Gray District is so poor.”

  As Tex watched the President thumb through the pages, I watched Frollo reading the red notebook.

  “Scott, I’m going to be very honest with you, and I need you to understand where I’m coming from.”

  “I can’t help people who can’t help themselves. Perhaps, if they had worked harder, they wouldn’t be living in such poverty now.”

  “They aren’t worth saving, Scott.”

  “How can you say that?” Tex asked her, absolutely furious. “These are human beings we’re talking about, just like you and me!”

  “There is no place for them in the world we’re building, and their suffering helped pay for your education.”

  “But I’m one of them. Are you saying that I’m worthless to?”

  “You’re an exception.”

  “You boys seem smart. Why are you wasting your time trying to rebuild a drug ridden slum?”

  “Because it’s our home!”

  “I grew up there. It’s where my family lives.”

  “Perhaps, if they had worked harder, they wouldn’t live in such poverty.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to help you. It’s a dirty, disgusting and rotten place. We’re better off leaving it behind.”

  “Think of it as good hygiene.”

  I don’t remember what happened next. All I remember was more arguing, and then… then I woke up, with my hands around Frollo’s throat. He was pressed against the desk, fighting for breath, but I wouldn’t allow it. As I realized what I was doing, and was about to let go, I heard a voice in my ear; Byrd’s voice.

  “He’s nothing but a drug peddling creep. Kill him so we can take everything he owns. We’ll turn the Temple into our own personal palace and the Sunset District into a kingdom. They don’t care about us, that’s why we have to be bad.”

  “Scott, you need to let her go!” Tex screamed in my ear.

  I finally released my grip, but as I was thrown to the ground and beaten by the President’s guards, the thing that hurt most was my knife wound, which burned as I relived my refusal to go along with Byrd’s plan.

  “We’ll take them to the cell block, immediately.”

  “No, I don’t want them here. Dump them back in the shithole they came from.”

  Chapter 24 - Scott Vale

  “It feels like we were just here yesterday, doesn’t it?” Revy said, walking in the door of the clinic.

  “Unfortunately so.”

  “Tex told me things didn’t go so well. You’ll have to think of a nice way to break to the news to everyone. They’re pretty excited to hear from you.”

  “Just get to work.”

  Without saying another word, Revy disinfected his hands, grabbed his tools and started fixing my stitches.

  “You’re squirming a lot less this time.”

  “Anger is the best painkiller.”

  He only spent a little while longer restitching my knife wound, which had popped open when the President’s pet pigs were punching and kicking me. As I waited for Revy to finish, I imagined all the things I wanted to do to them; pulling out their teeth one by one, beating them senseless, knocking their heads together…

  “Scott, are you alright?”

  “Fine.”

  “I don’t think you are.”

  “Are my stitches done yet?”

  He looked at me, obviously concerned. “Yes, but I want you to…”

  I didn’t stop to listen. I hopped off the table and walked over to his cabinet. My pistol and armor were sitting in the lowest drawer.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like? If that bitch won’t help us, I’ll just take what we need. I’ll steal as much food, medicine and clothing as I can, and probably stop to kill a few cops on the way.”

  “You can’t do this, Scott.”

  “Sure I can. They don’t care whether we live or die, so I don’t care about killing a few of them.”

  “No, I meant you can’t do this because it’s fucking stupid. Do you think they just keep food in medicine in big piles for you to find? Do you actually think you’ll walk into the Presidential District and find a magic door that says, ‘Everything The Gray District Needs’?”

  “I’ll figure it out,” I said, my hand on the doorknob and my armor strapped on.

  He blocked the door. “I can’t let you leave.”

  “Get out of my way!
”

  I tried to push out from in front of the door, but Revy was determined to stop me. He threw a single precise blow right between the plates in my armor and popped my stitches open yet again.

  Before I knew it, I was rolling on the ground. “What the fuck is your problem?”

  “I should ask you the same thing. How will getting yourself killed help anyone?”

  “What does it matter? Nobody cares about me.”

  “Nobody cares about any of us!” Revy screamed at me. It was the angriest I had ever seen him. “Do you remember how you met Tex? His whole family was carted off to jail and the only reason he escaped was because he happened to be out buying groceries. Jack was kicked out of his house when he was a kid, just like you. Vera has been separated from her family for a month and doesn’t even know if any of them are alive, and I got stuck running this clinic after I watched my mother and father take a suicidal swan dive over the railing. Hell, even Rae has to deal with the guilt of being the least fucked up out of any of us.”

  I sat in stunned silence.

  “We’re all scarred, but that doesn’t mean we give up on life. Do you remember how happy those people were when you told them how you were going to see the President? They believed that you were going to make a difference. You’re the first ray of hope these people have had in years, and if you go to war they will follow you. They’ll march out to the Presidential District, rioting and taking what they want, and be killed, just like you will. Or, at best, they’ll stay here and nothing will change.”

  He grabbed my hand and helped me up off the ground.

  “Take off that armor, put on your jacket and go talk to them. If you set an example, you can still make a difference. If you stay angry and bitter, you’ll just end up going numb. You don’t want that to happen.”

  Piece by piece, I stripped away the armor and threw it in the corner. This time, it was going in the trash.

  After Revy restitched me yet again, I told him, “I feel like I failed.”

  “You didn’t. The government failed you. We’ll just have to find a creative way to obtain all the things we need. You can still help everyone and they’ll still follow you.”