The Big Waste (After-Skirmish Book 1)

by C. W. Ashley

  When he, Sil and Mode were back inside the busted Blockgain they were driven out of the underground facility up towards an abandoned gas station that was ‘above’ the train station on the ground level. There was no security door to the hideout, you could see the ramp leading to it from the waste outside. Iggy fully understood that with the kind of reputation the outlaws and gangs had inside, they didn’t need a security door.

  After a very short drive, Koi had parked her mule outside a badly bombed looking gas station that had a sign that said ‘CRISPIN’S PIT-STOP’ that was barely attached to the storefront. Right behind them was Yotie who was towing the remains of the Poacher’s Interceptor to the gas stop too. After unhitching both the vehicles from their mules, Koi stayed at the station on guard duty while Yotie drove away.

  “Tools an’ parts are inside the shop, Wheeler. Fix ya’ wagon quick so I can take an early break yah?” Koi ordered lazily before climbing the roof of the station and drawing a sniper rifle to keep watch with.

  Well, I guess that’s done then. Repair my Blockgain and get on with my life. Which means I need to find a life to get on with...

  Sil emerged from the backseat of the towed truck and stretched with a deep yawn. She had finally gotten enough rest and decided to sit atop the hood of the car while Mode and Iggy tried to assess the state of the vehicle, seeing the damage on the Blockgain for the first time, turned to Iggy with concern.

  “Home is hurt?” Sil asked with her familiar grunt,

  “Sylvia considers the Blockgain Chaser, home?” Mode interjected.

  “Since she met me,” Iggy confirmed while examining an exposed coil spring above the damaged wheel. “Don’t know why, and I haven’t really asked.” His voice was deflated and sullen.

  “There is a high probability it is the scent; traces of the sapphire vine flower are in your car. Too faint for a human to detect, but a werewolf’s sense of smell could easily identify it.” Mode explained.

  So, she’s been calling my car home...because it smells like her home.

  Iggy looked up at the naked werewolf who was now lazily stretched out on his hood, comfortably sunbathing in the harsh afternoon daylight of the clear sky. Iggy squinted at her bitterly with the new information, feeling like another ache was inside him right alongside the one for Clarissa.

  Wonder where or who she will run off to when the smell wears off.

  Iggy turned towards the android as she grabbed a large toolbox from the shelf of the station’s front window. At least Mode made it clear early, rebuild herself and then build a life, whatever that means for a... comfort bot?

  “Hey Mode, that name that Baker called you, is that what I think it is?” Iggy asked while vaguely recalling its usage back in the citadel.

  “It’s a high probability that you know of it in the context of humanoid sex devices seen in Citadels, which is indeed my base model,” Mode confirmed.

  “Wha? So Hughes made you to be a-”

  “Incorrect. Father salvaged my base model from a Citadel scrapheap. But the work he has completed on me has been extensive. He built me for the purpose of living as the perfect human. My model’s origins are incidental,” Mode explained with a slight sharpness to her tone, interrupting Iggy for the first time.

  Iggy was slightly taken aback as he watched her rummage through the toolbox with her single hand. Letting his eyes wander over her shapely legs and the gorgeous human parts of her face it started to make a lot of sense along with making her slightly more alluring to him.

  “So, you...or your base model was being used as a comfort bot before being discarded in the scrapheap?” Iggy asked, realizing how crude it sounded.

  Mode had retrieved a carjack and lug-nut wrench from the box and prepared to remove the bent wheel from the Blockgain Chaser before staring at Iggy with a silent pause as her eyes glowed a soft pink.

  “My...memory banks in my base model’s service chip are partially corrupted, but I have some recollection of the interactions with clients. Would you like me to detail them, Randall?” Mode asked.

  “No! I mean…that’s not necessary, but thank you for confirming,” Iggy said in a flustered manner.

  Despite that half of her face was an exposed metallic skull, she had a youthful innocent look about her. Iggy found it hard to believe that her body had likely been used in hundreds if not thousands of sexual encounters. Firstly, by the wealthy who could afford such an experience, and then the more common folk as her quality depreciated over time and became cheaper, before ultimately being discarded.

  Iggy shuddered with the thought before beginning repairs on the Blockgain with Mode. Iggy was further away from his place of birth than he had ever been in his life, but fixing his car was so familiar, that his new environment was barely noticed.

  Chapter 23: Blood Thinner

  Clarissa’s head was arched back, her mouth wide, and her face contracted. She wailed loud and long; each breath interrupted with another cry. Dripping with sweat and dizzy with head-rush, she slammed her slick, bouncy rear into Richter Baker’s vigorous thrusting pelvis. Their flesh was clapping together so loud that the impact could be heard on the other side of the door of the sleeping quarters, where two armored gang members were standing guard. Baker was long and deep inside of her and she clenched down on him with all of her passion. He was so solid that she felt herself fitting around him, and it felt amazing.

  Baker managed a few more minutes of thrusting before reaching his peak with an aching orgasm, shooting his fluid inside her for the 3rd time in a row. There was nothing extraordinary about his libido, he was just very attracted to her. She was skilled at foreplay and they had both sniffed a small amount of high-grade silver power.

  “Fucckk, Landlady! All the powder in the world won’t squeeze a 4th round of me.” Baker said while flopping onto the mattress in a sweaty heap, palming around for his cigarillos. “Hope the loads were good enough for you. Did you get a nice warm blush?”

  “Mmmm, nice and warm.” Clarissa hushed as she fell into his chest, with her eyelid fluttering orgasmically. “I swear you get better every time”

  Baker lit his cigarillo and pulled the vampire closer to him, enjoying the cushioned sensation of her large breasts. “It’s been a lot of years of improvement, I was only, what, 17 the first time?”

  “Heh, you mean your first time? Clarissa teased. “I can always tell.”

  “You got a thing for teenagers or was I just playing that well live?”

  “I can’t even remember the music Rict. I just always fuck the rhythm guitarist. It’s like a personal tradition,” she said while swinging her leg over his. “Glad I did though.”

  Richter took a long drag of his cigarillo before passing it to Clarissa and blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling in thought. “It was so simple then; we were just about the music. No gang shit, just, like...freedom you know?”

  Clarissa felt a pang of intense guilt before pulling away from Baker, sitting up to smoke and looking away to the door. She tried to keep her head clear, but only with partial success.

  “So, Baker, I came here early for a reason. I brought a whole load of cash so I could pay of-”

  “No, not here,” Baker said firmly. “Not in the bedroom, we talk business in the office. Let this place be free of that necessary evil, if nowhere else.” His voice was effortlessly commanding and Clarissa was in agreement.

  “Okay Richter, we will talk in your office, but I know you’re leaving soon so…”

  “Yeah yeah, okay, I’m gettin’ up. Half my guys have already left for HQ. I shouldn’t even be here with so little in the way of protection. But procrastination you know?” Baker said as he peeled his sweat-drenched back off the high-quality sheets, and pulled on his studded jeans.

  “The whole family’s back at HQ?” Clarissa asked as she pulled her top over her generous bust.

  “No, just me, Cook and Grille. Frye is running a huge chopshop outside of the Belgrave Citadel. And The Boil…” Baker paused as zipp
ed up his boots. “Fuck the Boil, no protest from me when he misses meetings.”

  Clarissa chuckled softly as they finished dressing, mentally preparing herself for how to deliver her pitch.

  It was a short walk from the sleeping quarters to the office. The train station had stalls, workbenches, and local maps at each of the former platforms, with a group of gang enforcers surrounding each one. The stench of sex was strong on Clarissa and Baker, which earned them both a few looks and nods of approval by the guards they walked past. They arrived at a door that had the faded letters ‘ TRAIN STAFF ONLY’ where Yotie was standing outside with Clarissa’s second lockbox of money that she gave to him along with a large set of keys that he used to open the multiple locks on the door.

  “Hurry it up Yotie, how is it you know the names of every gang in the northeast zones but you can’t remember four lock and key combos?” Baker said while tapping his foot in aggravation.

  “It’d be easier if you didn’t change them every week, Rick,” Yotie grumbled as he fumbled with the final lock. “There we go. Here is your box Landlady. I didn’t open it.”

  As the door creaked open, Clarissa was met with the smell of expensive cigar smoke and aged wine. The office was a former employee lounge, and it was furnished in the image of Baker’s idea of luxury. Pool tables, a fully stocked mini-bar, a post-skirmish jukebox, and sound system along with pornographic holo-vids playing on the wall. In the middle of the room was a mismatched assortment of comfortable seating; A reading chair, liquid bag, a penthouse sofa, and a leather office chair.

  Yotie slumped into the Liquid-bag while Richter sat in the office recliner, leaving Clarissa to perch in the incredibly soft sofa. She found humor in the fact that if someone didn’t know who Richter was they would never know they were in the private office of one of the top 5 most dangerous people in the world, a title matched only by his siblings.

  “Open the case, Yotie,” Clarissa said while attempting to sit up straight in the quick-sand like cushions of the sofa. The mutant nodded and flicked open the unlocked case in a clear view of Baker’s curious eye. He whistled in an impressed fashion and leaned forward.

  “That’s a lot of fuckin standards, Landlady. But I don’t think we really need an expensive wedding. We just need to buy Yotie a few Root-waters and he’ll act as a priest.” Richter said with an easy smile.

  Clarissa facepalmed before creasing up in laughter which was joined by a quick chuckle from Yotie himself.

  “Goddamn it Richter, this is serious for once. I... wanted to bring this to you in person. It’s the remainder of my leasing debt, and I won’t be renewing it…” Clarissa said with a lack of her regular confidence.

  Yotie looked back between the Vampire and the Richter who had paused silently and tented his fingers. After nodding very softly as a confirmation for her to continue, Clarissa nervously cleared her throat. Trying to form her sentences as clearly as possible.

  “I... wanted to see you in person. I enjoyed the work I’ve done with you and Cook, but it’s been 15 years. And I’m not getting any younger. I want to try and do something different now.” Clarissa said sheepishly, finding it hard to meet Richter Baker’s blank stare.

  “You won’t be working with us anymore?” Baker asked calmly.

  “No, I’m sure I will! But as a freelance, ad-hoc set up like what you’ve got with Yotie and the outlaws,” she said turning to Yotie for some sort of acknowledgment.

  “Landlady, I’m just dumb muscle with a rocket launcher, I can’t run a pair of apartment towers. I can barely keep my bunk bed clean.” Yotie quipped with a smirk.

  “He’s right Clarissa, your abilities as a manager are pretty invaluable to me. You’ve been working with us for a long time, but your management skills are second to none. You really want to leave the towers behind?” Baker asked.

  “Yes, Richter I do. You can keep all the weapons and contraband we confiscated from the residents. All that me and Grady will take are my standards worth in profits and the deposit on next year's security and zoning fees.” Clarissa paused as her voice began to crack with nerves. “All the refurbishment and upgrades to the rooms stay in the tower of course. Those apartments are worth 3 times what they were before we took over.

  Baker’s stare was strong and direct. He swirled his chair to face away from Clarissa to retrieve a laminated sheet of paper from his desk and turned back to face her. The tension in the air was pulled as tight.

  “Cook has some crazy idea about moving into more of a legitimate business with Citadel officials. You know we take a cut of the sex industry in Texcoco, but it’s sloppy. We don’t get paid on time and the Citi-Sec stays on our asses,” Baker said.

  “Killed 3 of my best pimps because they ate at the wrong restaurants. It’s anti-mutant bullshit. The Soft-necks get a pass,” Yotie added sourly.

  “Basically, we need to start bribing higher up the food chain for this Citi-shit to work. Personally, I think the whole idea is cursed. I can’t trust a Citizen as far as I can throw em down a tunnel. But Cook’s pulling authority on this,” Baker said as he leaned further forward and pointed to the case of standards. “We need more money, Clarissa. I got to prioritize business.”

  Clarissa stayed silent as her eyes flicked between Baker and Yotie.

  “We need you to stay in Folsom and focus on expanding our territory. Not just the towers, but the brothels, bars, and garages. I know some of them are your friends, but we need to bring back the protection rackets.” Baker handed the laminated paper to Yotie while pulling out a new folder. “Now this will mean going to war with other gangs in Folsom, so Yotie will take a small army to the Shell and you’ll take over every corner of those streets. Obviously, it’s a lot more risk and responsibility but you’ll be compensated.”

  Clarissa’s chest ached as her heart sank, looking at Baker and Yotie in mild disbelief.

  “No, Baker. This isn’t a request. I’m leaving the business and I’m leaving this contract. I’m not fighting a turf war in Folsom. I’m not shaking down good people like Blanch for gang tax and I’m not running those towers anymore. The debt is paid. I’m out.” Clarissa asserted strongly.

  Baker sighed deeply and looked at the floor. “There is gonna be a new debt and this doesn’t cover it, Landlady. The contract will be renewed with Grady running operations if you refuse to take the lead on that. Either way, you’re still in with us.”

  Clarissa shot up out of her seat, burning with rage and disgust. Her voice had snapped from a diplomatic inflection to a threatening snarl.

  “Baker, I respect you. But if you even think about forcing Grady into your stupid war campaign, I’ll feed you and every member of this gang their fucking hearts!” Clarissa was shaking with anger but also fear, pointing an assertive but shaking finger at Richter Baker as she spoke. “You can’t strong-arm us into a new contract, we didn’t sign up for this!”

  Richter remained calm as he held is stare with Clarissa, showing no fear but only the slightest amount of empathy. “I didn’t have to strong-arm Grady into the contract, it was his idea.”

  A cold lump rose into Clarissa’s throat.

  “W-what, n-no he would n-never…” she said as her body began to quiver violently along with her voice.

  Heavy footsteps entered the office from a previously unseen side door.

  “It’s a good plan, L.,” said the familiar voice.

  The large mutant stepped into the seating area with a dark expression of concern across his amphibious face. Grady had revealed himself.

  Clarissa’s jaw dropped slowly, the air rushed out of her lungs like an emergency escape and her head throbbed with panic and sickness. All she could taste was cold metal and mucus. She felt like her eye was betraying her, she couldn’t believe that Grady was here.

  “You...you’re in Folsom...looking after the towers...why, how?” Clarissa stuttered as Baker and Yotie looked back and forth between the duo.

  “We have been in talks with Grady for a little
while about stepping up. Again, it’s just business, Clarissa.” Baker said calmly.

  “S-stepping up?” She said as she snapped her head to her mutant accomplice, who refused to meet her gaze out of what looked to be a mild shame. “You’re supposed to be watching things back at home...what is going on?” she said with a shaking voice of total confusion and growing rage.

  “I left right after you did. Cook’s boys are holding the towers L, we won’t get any trouble.” Grady held the large folder from Baker’s desk and sighed. “I signed the contract before you arrived, L. I’m gonna expand Cook’s territory and take over Folsom. There is a future for me, for us in the organization. I know you were getting sick of ejecting powder-heads anyway right?”

  Grady’s voice was conversational, but with a solemn drop in his tone, he still couldn’t make eye contact with his Vampire mentor as he spoke. Clarissa tried to respond but she was choked by shock.

  “Grady has laid out how much more we can make once we start taxing the local businesses for protection money. I get that you have strong friendships with these people but we can’t afford to look weak.” Baker added.

  “T-they’ll never go for it! They won’t kick up money to the gangs without me!” Clarissa shrieked.

  Grady dropped his head and cleared his throat, finally meeting Clarissa’s furious glare. “You’re right, L. Out of loyalty to you Blanch was defiant...till the end. Hopefully, the rest will fall in line.”

  “Y-you…fuck...You...ungrateful shit!! I raised you! How could you!?” Clarissa shrieked.

  Grady went silent, showing no remorse in his face and turned to Baker, who rose from his seat to continue the explanation.

  “Grady and I both respect your wishes not to drink blood, but the streets are talking, rivals are getting bolder. They see it as a sign of weakness that you choose to not be a full power vampire. So, Grady is going to establish a more ruthless style from here on out. We will have jobs for you in terms of the handover and helping the troops take new turf in Folsom.”