Scorched

by Britt Ringel

  Feeling conspicuous carrying such luxuries, she walked straight to Reynolds’ clinic while keeping a watchful eye for anyone that kept turning up with suspicious frequency. By the time she arrived in the cul-de-sac, she had become paranoid about losing her dress. She turned a final, full circle before walking the last meters to the open service window of the shack. Reynolds was finishing up with a customer when she caught sight of Kat.

  The woman’s wide smile immediately set Kat at ease. “Come in, Kat! I haven’t seen you since the hospital.” Reynolds quickly moved from the window to the side door and held it open invitingly.

  Kat walked around the clinic with her shopping treasures in front of her.

  “What’s all that you have?” the doctor asked enthusiastically. “Oh, that’s a beautiful dress!”

  Kat entered the shack and replied, “Plus shoes and some other small items. I was hoping I could stow them in the back here rather than having to carry them all the way home.”

  “Of course, dear!” Reynolds said. “You can hang the dress on my laundry line. How long do you want to keep it here?”

  Kat used her foot to slide the curtain to the back room aside. “Just until tonight.” She smiled sheepishly. “I, uh, have a date.”

  Reynolds grinned knowingly. “That handsome, young foreman?”

  Kat blushed despite herself. “Yeah. He asked me out yesterday.” She carefully hung the dress over a cord suspended between the back and side walls of the shack.

  Reynolds rushed into her back room. “I want to hear all the details!” The doctor looked at Kat and sighed slightly. “I’m very glad you came to see me, Kat. I’ve felt terrible ever since our conversation at the hospital.”

  “It’s okay, Doctor—”

  “Please,” Reynolds interrupted, “call me Maggie.”

  “It’s okay, Maggie,” Kat started again. “I understand how you felt. I’m living it and it scares me too.”

  Reynolds crinkled her nose as the line of her mouth drew tight. “That’s exactly why I feel so bad. You needed someone and all I could think about was myself.” She looked over her shoulder to check the service window. “After I lost my practice and my citizenship, I worked hard to cobble together the life I have now. What’s happened to you isn’t normal, Kat. My gut says it’s bigger than either of us and that terrified me.” She sighed again as she confessed, “I was so scared of losing what I have that I turned my back on the Hippocratic Oath. I placed myself ahead of my patient… and my friend.” She searched Kat’s eyes and asked solemnly, “Can you forgive me?”

  Kat moved to the elder woman and wrapped her into a warm embrace. “There’s nothing to forgive, Maggie. I’m so happy I haven’t lost you.”

  Reynolds patted her back reassuringly. “I’m with you, Kat, whenever you need me.”

  Kat stepped back and looked pensively at her friend. After a moment’s consideration, she blurted, “I think I’ve discovered my name.”

  A dark eyebrow arched upward on Reynolds’ face.

  “I had to give Porter Mining a DNA sample for a background check and it returned the name Kallista Pendleton,” Kat explained.

  Reynolds’ mouth dropped open. “Your first name isn’t Kat? You seem more like a Kat than a Kallista to me.”

  “I have really vague memories of adults calling me Kallista when I was little.” Kat frowned. “Nothing substantial, nothing solid but I know that was my name.”

  Reynolds harrumphed. “Well, I guess I can get used to calling you Kallista.”

  Kat shook her head. “No. I’m Kat. This is who I am now,” she stated adamantly.

  The pair returned to the front room. Reynolds took her customary position in her chair while Kat leaned against the examination table.

  “Maggie, do you know what Pelletier’s Syndrome is?” Kat asked after a few moments of silence.

  “Uh, a little bit,” Reynolds answered, surprised at the change of topic. “Just what every licensed doctor knows. Pelletier’s Syndrome is an extremely rare genetic disease. It’s undetectable while dormant but after birth it quickly turns fatal. The worst part, as if taking the life of a newborn wasn’t bad enough, is that Pelletier’s Syndrome mutates rapidly once active and strives to become highly communicable.” She cocked her head to Kat and grimaced. “Fortunately, the disease kills the infant before it can reach the later stages of mutation.”

  “How do you know this?” Kat asked.

  “Because of the stakes,” Reynolds replied. “Every doctor is taught that each newborn must be tested for Pelletier’s. If a baby somehow survived long enough to have its Pelletier’s become transmittable, we’d have a population wipe that’d make The Collapse look like a hiccup. That’s why every citizen’s newborn gets tested just hours after birth. It’s a big deal, Kat. During all my time in corporate hospitals, we never had a single instance of Pelletier’s but every month we reviewed procedures for such an event.”

  “But,” Kat countered, “babies in places like Shantytown aren’t tested.”

  Reynolds nodded and inhaled deeply. “To the nightmares of doctors everywhere. But like I said, Pelletier’s Syndrome is very rare, like one in ten or maybe twenty million rare, and it’s so lethal that even if a Trodden had a Pelletier’s baby, the disease is so aggressive that it’s probably impossible to survive long enough to reach the communicable stage.”

  “How quickly does it kill?”

  “Fast. Days, I think.” Reynolds shrugged. “If a newborn tested positive, we were to isolate the baby immediately and then run, not walk, run to the comms to upchannel the discovery. A specialized emergency response team would then come to the hospital and it would be out of our hands after that.” She smoothed her greying hair with a hand. “But, Pelletier’s almost never happens, thank God. We never had one in Waytown. In fact, I never even heard of one happening in Northport or Coldbarrow. Why are you asking?”

  “Kallista Pendleton died of Pelletier’s Syndrome twenty-five years ago.”

  Reynolds gawked at Kat for a moment before recovering. “Well, I’d say that’s proof you aren’t Kallista Pendleton.”

  “I know people called me Kallista when I was young, Maggie,” Kat insisted.

  “Maybe your first name is Kallista,” Reynolds suggested. “Hell, maybe your full name is the same as that poor child’s but, and I am speaking professionally here, I can assure you with a high degree of confidence that you aren’t dead.”

  Kat chuckled at the quip but she knew who she used to be.

  “Now,” Reynolds said, smiling as she leaned forward in her chair, “tell me all about your date.”

  Chapter 21

  Kat chatted with Reynolds for the rest of the afternoon. As evening drew near, the doctor had Kat haul two buckets of water to the clinic. Reynolds produced shavings of a mild lye soap and offered them to her friend. Kat spent the next twenty minutes washing her hair and scrubbing her body clean. By the time she was finished, both buckets held murky pools. Being clean was glorious and, using Reynolds’ brush, Kat made passes at her tangled hair until it was a wavy, ebon waterfall. Even the shorter hair at her right temple behaved now that it had grown out a bit.

  In the back room, Kat rubbed the perfume strip to the nape of her neck, behind her ears and on her wrists. The scent started out strong but as she dressed, the aroma seemed to fade considerably and she wondered whether the strip was worth its price. She slipped the red dress over her head and let it slide down her body. The fit made her feel truly feminine. Kat stepped into her new shoes and headed for the mirror by the examination table.

  As she emerged from the back room, Reynolds gasped. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, Kat!” she gushed with approval.

  Kat grinned at the compliment and turned toward the mirror. Damn! Not bad, she thought. Almost two weeks of dirt, blood, and dust had covered an angel. She smiled openly into the mirror at the model beaming back at her. She leaned closer to apply the eyeliner. Her hands seemed to move independently of her thoughts and, s
oon, delicate thin strokes highlighted her upper and lower lash lines.

  She stepped back, made a slight adjustment to her dress and smiled again into the mirror. She wished she had a bra for additional support and modesty but Reynolds’ undergarments were far too busty. Her eyes played up and down the mirror. “This’ll do,” she stated confidently.

  * * *

  An hour later, Kat stood in line at the front doors of The Lucky Gun. She had originally envisioned a faded, wooden building full of drunk and ornery men but the stereotype quickly gave way to reality. Despite its rustic name, the building was an impressive construction that stood three stories high. She was also surprised at the number of other women waiting with her. Many had arms wrapped around their beaus but a fair number were in groups, pairs or alone. Most of the women were dressed in provocative finery but there were handfuls that wore garb that easily marked them as Trodden. Kat was thrilled to see that she compared well to even some of the best-dressed citizens. The line moved quickly and when it was Kat’s turn at the door, she swiped her wristwrap over a console and stepped past the appreciative eyes of two bouncers. Reynolds had found some thin, red cord that nearly matched Kat’s dress and together they had woven it around her wristwrap to disguise it as an accessory.

  The air conditioning alone made the five-credit cover charge worth the price of admission. All around Kat, people walked excitedly toward destinations she had yet to discover inside the venue. Electronic signs guided patrons to various rooms and events. The establishment contained two restaurants, a large showroom and the main casino. It even boasted rooms for rent on the top floor. Centered in the grand entrance was a plasticrete basin with a sculpture of a falcon rising from the water, its wings spread as if just ascending into flight. The water shimmered as it rolled down the large predator’s body, cascading off the feathers of its wings to create a rippling effect. The fountain spoke of rebirth.

  Sitting on the ledge of the basin was Sadler Wess. He wore a simple black suit made from a synthetic thread, although not the shiny ripstop nylon that Porter office workers wore. His shirt was a dark red that matched his tie. Obvious effort had been expended on styling his unruly hair and he was clean-shaven instead of sporting his customary five o’clock shadow.

  Kat’s knees went weak when she caught his eyes. The man’s jaw dropped open in return and he wore his stunned reaction for several moments. She let loose with a blazing smile as she approached him.

  “My God,” Sadler gasped. “You look devastating.” His hands quickly ran up and through his hair, trying to work the strands into submission. “I look like a Tr—bad compared to you.” He adjusted his tie. “You are amazing,” he prattled further. “I… I wasn’t sure what you’d wear. I was afraid to ask because… That dress is stunning on you.”

  Kat’s cheeks were as red as her dress although she basked in the flattery before saying, “I picked it up today.”

  Sadler inhaled sharply. “Kat, you didn’t have to—”

  She held up a finger. “I wanted to. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like a woman that I wanted to do something for myself.” She looked down at her dress and smoothed the waist with her hands. “It wasn’t expensive and your reaction has already made it worth it.” She grinned fiercely. “And you look very handsome. I mean, more so than usual.” She let her eyes sweep over him more suggestively. It felt good to flirt with him.

  Sadler crooked his elbow and offered it to her. “Shall we go dine? I made reservations at Miller’s Grill.”

  Kat slipped her hand under his arm and the couple took their first steps together to the restaurant.

  “You smell incredible,” Sadler whispered into her ear with a quiet growl.

  It was worth the price, Kat told herself.

  After they were seated, Sadler ordered a glass of wine for each of them. When the waiter retreated, he said, “Call me old-fashioned but I insist you let me pay tonight.” He looked at her with sincerity. “Please, Kat, it will make me feel good. I promise you I can afford it.”

  Kat moved her right foot to step protectively on the strap of her satchel under the table. Even though she was confident that the restaurant was safe, Shantytown habits died hard. “I’ll let you,” she agreed with a pleasing laugh, “because I’m not sure I can afford it myself. I’ve only been working for a week.”

  Sadler looked at her with noticeable relief. “I know. I was still worried that you’d fight me on it. I don’t want this night to break you. It must be hard, living outside Waytown.”

  The waiter returned with the wine, presented in individual carafes. After it was poured, Kat took a sip and was both surprised and pleased by the earthy taste. “Have you always been a citizen?” she asked.

  Sadler looked guiltily away. “Yeah. I won’t lie to you, Kat. I’m glad I am one but I also don’t think that makes me better than…”

  “The Trodden,” Kat finished.

  “I hate that term,” he confided. “I hate that there’s this barrier between myself and my crew. I’ve worked almost ten years at the mines and no matter how hard I try, I always feel like I’ll never fit in with them. Maybe they wouldn’t want me to.”

  “They like you,” Kat offered. “The way they talk about you when you aren’t around is proof.” She nodded to herself. “They like and trust you. So do I.”

  Sadler’s green eyes lit up. He started to speak but stopped to take a sip from his glass while he collected himself. “Kat, I’m just going to put this out there. I’ve never dated someone who hasn’t been a citizen.” He held up a hand and added quickly, “Not because I think I’m better but because there just hasn’t been a woman at the mines who has captured my attention like you have. I know a lot of people outside of Waytown hate us citizens and I don’t blame them. I’m just scared that I’m going to unintentionally say the wrong thing and blow it.” He shrugged. “There, I’ve said it.”

  Kat reached across the table for his hand, both surprised and pleased by her assertiveness. “I don’t think you’re going to blow it. In a way, I haven’t been Trodden for very long so all those grudges you think they have against you, I certainly don’t.”

  “You were once a citizen?” Sadler asked but then covered his mouth quickly. “Never mind! Forget I asked. Or remember but tell me sometime when you’re ready.”

  Kat’s laugh carried softly from their table across the entire dining room. “Stop walking on eggshells! I promise I’ll explain once I get things sorted out.” If I get things sorted out. The dark thought clouded an otherwise wonderful start to her evening. Just live for tonight, Kat.

  The couple ordered their meals. Kat was aghast at the prices but Sadler assured her he had selected the restaurant because he ate there most Saturday nights. She didn’t recognize many of the foods on the menu but decided upon fettuccine alfredo with bacon. The waiter complimented her choice and offered her a selection of white wines. Kat asked her date for help.

  Sadler ordered the night’s special, a steak with mixed vegetables. The menu stated the steaks were beef imported from Northport.

  When they were alone once more, Kat asked, “Have you always lived in Waytown?”

  “No, my family comes from the western district in Northport. Dad served seven years in Aegiscore while Mom worked at Porter Power. Dad was sent home and Mom got transferred to Waytown.” He finished his first glass of wine before continuing. “Dad worked at the mines as best he could. He was a driver. Mom works downtown.”

  “Does your father still work at the mines?”

  “No,” Sadler sighed. “He died a few years ago from complications. He was on the front lines at Apogee.” He looked away.

  Kat stared at Sadler blankly. “What is that? I don’t understand.”

  Sadler looked at her curiously. “Apogee,” he repeated. When Kat’s face still didn’t show comprehension, he asked, “How can you not know? Apogee, the battle where Cyberproc used nanomites against Aegiscore’s troops.”

  “Oh!” Kat exclaimed, pr
etending she understood. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Sadler!” a woman’s voice called out from across the room.

  Kat was grateful for the interruption until she caught the unmistakable sight of Tabitha Carter. She felt her body tense as the blonde woman and her entourage approached. Making matters much worse, the woman looked fantastic.

  Tabitha’s hand ran up Sadler’s shoulder and teased the locks of his brown hair near his ear. “You’re looking especially handsome tonight,” she stated. Her attention moved to Kat and a thin smile emerged on her face. She bent low to place her ruby lips close to Sadler’s ear, causing her dress to feature her figure more prominently. She purred just loud enough for Kat to hear. “Sadler, honey, you don’t have to pay good credits for an escort, darling. You know very well that I’m more than happy to be next to you.”

  The vixen’s blue eyes glanced sideways across the table as she ran a delicate finger over Sadler’s earlobe. Kat felt a flame ignite in her chest and a heat rise upwards through her body. The pressure of her anger built inside her head as she narrowed dark eyes at her rival.

  Sadler politely brushed Tabitha’s hand away. “Tabby, we tried but it didn’t work out. I’m not the kind of guy you were hoping for,” he explained.

  Tabitha straightened and let her lips pout. “But making up is half the fun, Sadler.” She turned to face Kat and smirked before slyly glancing to Sadler once more. “And certain parts of you were exactly what I was hoping for.”

  Kat felt she would explode in her chair. Her ears rang from the pounding in her head. She balled her hands into fists while trying to exhale in a desperate attempt to relieve the building steam. She didn’t want to make a scene and ruin the evening.

  “Well, hoping is all you can do now,” Sadler countered. “Goodnight, Tabby,” he dismissed sternly.

  “Toodles. See you around the apartments,” she said, waving carelessly. As she passed close to Kat, she muttered, “You should be paying him.”