Black Light: The Deplorable Savior

by Rich Richardson

  I raised an eyebrow at him, a little uncertain. “How do you know I mean that much to them?”

  “Because they’ve been waiting outside since you came back.”

  I got up off the table and pulled my jacket on, unsure of how many people he meant.

  “Wish me luck.”

  “You won’t need it.”

  I stepped out the door, ready to tell Vera, Jack, Tex, and Rae the bad news, but it wasn’t just the Black Jackets waiting for me. Standing down in the cold streets, up in the catwalks and even sitting on both sides of the clinic, were the people of the Gray District. Some were new recruits, but most were just regular people; brothers, sisters, moms and dads, and every single one of them was looking at me.

  “We…” I started, and saw them lean forward to hear. “We aren’t going to get any help. The President said no.”

  They started mumbling and some started to walk away with their heads hung low.

  “But we can’t give up hope. We’re still going to make things better.”

  “How?” That was the question I knew they wanted to ask. I could see it on their faces.

  “We’ll just…” I stuttered. Speaking was difficult with so many eyes watching me. “”We’ll just need to get creative. I promise, I’ll find a way to bring food and books and clothing and medicine to everyone here.”

  “We should just take it!” someone shouted. Other’s started to agree, but hearing someone else say it made me realize how ridiculous the idea of fighting the government straight on really was.

  “We can’t do that. We can’t sink to that level, even though… even though no one cares about us. We’ll find a way to survive, and we’ll make better lives for ourselves, I promise, but we can’t become violent. If we do, we’ll just be acting like the savages they think we are.”

  The crowd continued to lean in, soaking up every word I said. It was an amazing feeling, as well as being absolutely terrifying.

  Then, something popped into my head; something that had been said to me, that I now knew to be false.

  “Nobody cares about us. That’s why we have to be better; better than they expect us to be and better than they deserve.”

  Chapter 25 - Paige Wilson

  “Boy, I guess it’s a good thing that kid didn’t have a knife.”

  “Shut up,” I told Fischer, the voice of my own making.

  “Three months later and it still feels fresh. You can still feel his hands around your throat, can’t you?”

  I sat my empty glass on the desk and picked up the bottle, ready to fill it for the fifth time.

  “Madam President?” called a voice from beyond my door.

  “Come in.”

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s been another incident at the barricade.”

  “What happened?”

  “Some denizens of the Sunset District wandered too close and the officers were forced to open fire.”

  “Were they hurt?”

  “They were definitely bleeding, but were well enough to run away.”

  “Come back if anything else happens. You’re dismissed, officer.”

  “Madam President, these attacks are getting more frequent. With all due…”

  “I said, you’re dismissed. Do I need to repeat myself again?”

  “No, Madam President. I apologize.”

  I started refilling my bourbon before the door had even closed.

  “You haven’t drank this much since we were teenagers. Don’t you think you might have a problem?”

  “I probably do,” I told him, taking a swig.

  “Boy, those kids really got to you. First they tell you they need help, then they try to kill you.”

  “I can’t afford to divert resources right now. The Sunset District is still in chaos and we have yet to get it back under control.”

  “What other excuses have you got?”

  “My police are exhausted from protecting the district so we don’t have the manpower to distribute food and supplies to the people in the Gray District. If we just hand it over they won’t be smart enough to ration it on their own.”

  “What else?”

  “All our workers from the Sunset District stopped showing up the night the Men of the Temple were overthrown, leaving our manpower in the facility slashed, and rendering us barely able to produce enough food for ourselves.”

  “And?”

  “And, if those pricks had worked harder, they wouldn’t need us to save them.”

  “Ding Ding Ding! You finally found the real answer. All that buried prejudice finally bubbled up over the surface.”

  “Every one of those answers is legitimate.”

  “They are, but you’re a politician. You make excuses like other people make dandruff. Just admit it to yourself, you wouldn’t help them even if you could, because hate poor people.”

  “No, I hate lazy people. My father always taught me to work hard and that’s how I got here.”

  “And the fact that your father was the President had nothing to do with it?”

  “After he died, I had to fight to get this position. I busted my ass for years to become President.”

  “I’m sure a lot of the people there work hard to, but maybe they just had a string of bad luck.”

  “Maybe.” I started to reconsider my viewpoint, but my father’s words still echoed in my ears. “Never trust a freeloader, sweetie. It doesn’t matter what their race is, they have to be willing to work.”

  “Madam President?”

  “Didn’t I tell you that you were dismissed?”

  “I just wanted to let you know that our next shipment is on its way to the Cages. I apologize for bothering you.”

  “That’s excellent news. Now, go away.”

  This time, I didn’t have to repeat myself.

  I looked out over the city, seeing the Gray and Sunset Districts on the opposite edges of my vision. One side was where Jamestown started, but was now reduced to a slum. The other was built to show how far Jamestown had come, but was now overtaken by rioting and chaos. The Presidential District, my realm, was the only one still in order.

  “God,” I said to myself. “This city is fucked.”

  Chapter 26 - Scott Vale

  “Just because we’re peaceful doesn’t mean we’re pussies,” I thought to myself, as I grabbed a police officer from behind and stabbed a syringe into his neck. My arm covered his mouth, muffling his screams and keeping other three seemed completely unaware. To them, this was just a routine job they’d done a thousand times before.

  Once a week, dozens of pallets of food were transported to the Cages on carts. With less than two hundred people living in each cage, it was more than they needed.

  Shoan and Jessie, both recent recruits, snuck up behind two more of them and knocked them out simultaneously, just the way I had taught them.

  “Hey, what the…” the fourth cop said, turning and spotting us just before Vera knocked away his weapon and injected him in the side.

  “Fuck, that was close.”

  “Did we do well, boss?”

  “Excellent.”

  “What about me, Scott? Or should I address you as boss?” Vera said, punching me in the arm. She thought it was funny that the new guys called me that.

  “You didn't do too bad, for a girl.”

  The huge metal carts were hooked up to a small locomotive that pulled the caravan and steered it along the four hundred yard asphalt road between the Ring and the Cages, which was flanked by grass on both sides. We unhooked the five carts in the rear, after collecting the officer’s weapons, and turned them around, heading back to the Gray District with enough food to feed everyone for a few weeks, if we rationed it properly.

  As we approached the back end of the overpass, the end that didn’t have a ramp built up to it, eight more Black Jackets approached to help us pull the carts. Most of this area was grass, with a few trees near the walls. This made the carts very hard to pull since they were off the r
oad.

  “Is the machine set up?”

  "It should be ready in just a minute, Mr. Vale.”

  “Great, but don’t call me that. Call me Scott or boss or… really anything except Mr. Vale.”

  An enormous door swung open from the District’s back side, way above our heads, and an enormous pulley was wheeled out, leaning out over the edge. Next, we uncovered the enormous weight which had been camouflaged as a bush, and the wide metal tray which was too big to hide, and had been covered with sod.

  “Tex, this better work,” I said to him.

  “It will,” he told me from above. “Just trust me.”

  A set of cables was dropped down on us from above, which we hooked up to the tray, in the center and on all four corners. Once it was done, Tex grabbed the other end and dropped down, his weight more than enough to lift the tray on the other end of the pulley system.

  Once he touched the ground, we quickly hooked the cable to the enormous weight and signaled to the others at the top when it was secure. They stepped onto the tray, one at a time, each tying themselves to the safety winch above, so that they would be safe in case the cables snapped. Soon, they had enough weight to gently bring the tray back to the ground.

  “I can’t believe this is actually working.”

  “Don’t jinx it.

  We moved one of the carts onto the tray and had the Black Jackets untie themselves and step off individually until it slowly rose up, bringing the pallets of food to the Gray District.

  “What would we do without you, Tex?”

  Even in the dark, I could see him smiling.

  “We’re all set,” the Black Jackets above told us as they pulled the carts through the door. “We’re sending it back down.”

  We had to make four more trips, but each was faster than the last. Everyone knew their jobs by the time the last cart was being lifted, and had no problems executing them quickly and efficiently.

  The rigging was unhooked and the tray was slowly lowered back to us, by hand. Tex’s pulley was rolled back inside, the weight was hidden and the tray was covered once again, leaving no evidence that we'd been here other than a set of tire tracks that mysteriously ended in the middle of the grass.

  “Those injections should be wearing off anytime now. We need to go.”

  The group of Black Jackets started heading towards the other entrance, praising Tex and his invention the entire way there. Meanwhile, Vera and I walked behind the others, leaving him to soak up all the well-deserved attention.

  “So, Scott Vale, when everyone wakes up tomorrow you’re going to be a hero; the man who brought food to the Gray District and commander of the Black Jackets. What will you do now?” she asked, pretending to shove a microphone in my face.

  “I’m just a guy. I couldn’t have done it without everyone else.”

  “Boy, you sure are humble.”

  “Well, it’s true. Tex designed the pulley system. Revy gave us those drugs to knock out the guards. The new recruits have been doing a lot of heavy lifting. This plan wouldn’t have worked without everyone.”

  “And we wouldn’t be here if not for you. Or, at least, I wouldn’t.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I guess I’m trying to say thank you, you know, for saving my life and letting me stay here. I never thanked you for that.”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “No, it really is, and I owe you for that, big time… which is why this next part is really hard for me to say.” She turned to me, a look of sadness on her face. “I’ve stayed here for too long and I can’t be a Black Jacket anymore. I need to go back and find my people.”

  Her statement took me off guard, but, in retrospect, I should have seen it coming.

  “Why? I mean, I know the Truands are like family to you…”

  “They are my family.”

  “Right. I know they’re your family, but think about the risk. One of those dog creatures was in the city. That means that Lykan’s virus is inside the walls. The other Truands could be infected. They might have turned already. Plus, we don’t know what happened during the riots or if they ever ended. All of the Truands could be… you know.”

  “Dead?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “Well, I have to know for sure,” she said, taking off her jacket and handing it to me. “I’m sorry.”

  “Keep it. You’re one of us now. I’ll get a few guys together and we’ll escort you back.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Actually, I do. You’re my friend, whether you like it or not.”

  “Thank you, Scott.”

  We finally made it back to the ramp, heading home for the night.

  “So, how do you want to celebrate your last night as a Black Jacket?”

  “Go home and get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Really?”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “A few, but all of them involve going back to my place.”

  She smiled and punched me on the arm, really hard this time. “You wish.”

  Chapter 27 - Julia Munford

  Even though they said they were working to make this place better, the idea of thugs in black coats roaming the streets still made me nervous. I thought they would only make our horrible lives worse, but I had to admit, the Gray District seemed a lot more peaceful now. Plus, those thugs had tracked down anyone who had ever sold vapor and either sent them packing or beat them into submission. My hope was that with the dealers gone, maybe my junkie husband could finally kick the habit.

  However, no matter how questionable their methods were, those guys in the black jackets were helping my family. They'd started handing out free food, just for the hell of it, so that we no longer had to eat at the slop shops. I had a pretty good feeling that it was stolen, but I didn't care; no one did. Feeding my family was the most important thing to me, and I couldn't thank those thugs enough for giving real food to my children, not cold gruel or watery soup.

  As I climbed the last stairwell and walked up to my front door, I could hear something inside. I thought it was nothing at first, and pulled out my keys to unlock the door, but once I heard screaming I knew that something was very wrong.

  I unlocked all six deadbolts as fast as I could and ran inside.

  “Mom! Mom! Something’s wrong with dad!”

  “Oh, God,” was all I could manage to say when I first saw him. His entire body was shaking violently, and foam was spilling out of his mouth.

  “Mom, what’s happening?” I grabbed Ben Jr. and pulled him away, shielding the eyes of my six year old.

  “Honey, I need you to run to the clinic as fast as you can. Go get the doctor and bring him back here. Ok?”

  “I can’t mom.”

  “Yes, you can,” I said, desperately pleading with him. “I need you to be a big boy and go get help. Run to the clinic as fast as you can.”

  He sprinted out the door and I ran to the bedroom. Ben always kept his stash in there, away from the kids. He said he’d been feeling down since he tried to quit, but I hadn’t expected anything this bad. There were almost two dozen vials in the dresser, but every one of them was empty. There wasn’t a single drop left.

  I ran back out to the rocking chair he was sitting in, but had no idea of what to do. A feeling of helplessness overwhelmed me as my husband fought to breath. I grabbed a towel and started gently wiping away the foam from around his mouth, but as soon as I touched him he began shaking worse than before.

  “Mom!” I heard, as the door busted open. “I found him!”

  “Thank you so much!” I yelled as I ran towards the doctor. “I need your help. Something is wrong with my husband.”

  “I’ll take a look.” The young physician stepped over the groceries, which I had spilled across the floor in a moment of blind panic. “Shit, another one of these. He’s a vapor addict, right?”

  “Yes. You’ve seen this before?”

  “Ab
out a dozen just like him in the past week. Junkies have been dying left and right.”

  “Don’t you dare call my husband a junkie!” I screamed at him.

  “Ok, I’m sorry. I’d better call the reaper.”

  “No, don’t call the reaper! Fix him!”

  “But there’s nothing I can do.”

  I can still vividly picture him saying that. It was such a matter-of-fact statement, with no room for argument. He may as well have looked me in the eyes and told me, "You are going to watch your husband die, slowly and painfully choking on his own vomit."

  I collapsed onto my knees. Even with everything I had said and done, I had never wanted Ben to die; not like this.

  The doctor continued to do nothing, until he saw the small child still watching his father die, at which point he ushered him out of the room saying, “You don’t need to see this.”

  “What do I do?”

  “About what?”

  “My husband, you idiot! How do I help my husband?”

  “Uh… you can’t…”

  I refused to accept that answer. “What kind of doctor are you?”

  “A realistic one. There’s no way you can… Wait, I know. Grab onto his nose with your thumb and index finger.”

  I followed his orders, trying not to get the foam on my hands. “What now?”

  “Grip tightly enough to close his nostrils.”

  I did what he said, but it only made the shaking worse.

  “It’s not working!”

  “Hold it tighter.”

  I held his nose until my fingers started to turn purple. His shaking got worse and worse, but I held on tighter than before, hoping that I had found a way to bring Ben back to me; back to his family.

  It seemed like hours before the seizing stopped. Suddenly, he wasn’t shaking at all… or breathing.

  “Oh, God, what did I do?” I sat on my knees, staring at the lifeless corpse.

  “Vapor is a nasty drug. Even if you take it once, it stays in your system for years, and it forms a dependency faster than anything I've ever seen. It’s actually a marvel of modern chemistry.” The doctor stopped for a moment to check my husband’s pulse; or rather, he made sure he didn't have one. “I’ll call the reaper. It shouldn’t be more than a few minutes until he comes to get the body. Will you be ok?”