by Darcy Town
He stopped at the basement level and listened. The faint light from the floor above did not penetrate the parking garage. He leaned in and spoke softly, “There may be a car, a motorcycle, a bike, anything. Do you know how to get one working if I have to kill things?”
She shook her head. “I am not a Fix-It.”
He sighed. “Fine, you get to shoot then, I fix it. I hope last night was not just lucky shooting on your part.” He wrapped an arm around her midsection and they dropped the final few feet to the ground. They crouched below the entrance to the basement, listening for movement.
Hearing nothing, Rake pulled out his gun and put his knife away. He put his hands together and slapped them against Ravil’s thigh, motioning for her to step up. Ravil put her foot in his hand. She held onto him, unsure if he was going to toss her and run. He sensed her hesitation and rolled his eyes. He bounced his hand, urging her to climb.
Ravil stepped up onto the concrete floor. The garage was hot and immense; the air was stale. She focused. She pushed her senses outward, measuring the size of the space. There were motionless shapes that broke up the monotony.
Rake stepped up beside her. Ravil grabbed his wrist and gave him a tug. They moved slowly. She reached out to the first shape; she touched rough cloth over metal. She grabbed Rake’s hand and moved it to the machine. He slipped back the cloth and dropped to his knees. He felt the shape of the wheels, the handles. He found a key and grinned.
Ravil turned her back to the motorcycle and remade her mental image of the darkness. Things had moved. Alarmed, she focused. Things moved towards them. Human-sized things. Ravil gripped Rake’s shoulder; she dug her nails into his skin.
Rake pivoted. He drew an extra gun and slowly unscrewed the back of it. He knocked the fuel cell into his hand. He set his first gun down and covered Ravil’s eyes. He closed his eyes and smashed the cell into the concrete.
For a few seconds the broken cell lit up the basement brilliant white. Rake grabbed his functional gun and opened his eyes. People cringed against the light, blinded. He counted them as light faded to a glowing blue. He fired, dropping each with one shot. He turned back to the bike. He pushed the key into the ignition, the controls lit up. The headlights flicked on, giving them a small beam of light. He smiled. “Thank fuck.” He scanned the room. “Now where the hell is the exit?”
Ravil pointed towards a wide metal door. “That spot is the thinnest, there is space beyond it.”
Rake frowned, but he had nothing else to go on. He grabbed a discarded helmet and shoved it down on her head. He put her on the bike and rolled it alongside him as he headed for the door. A padlock and chain kept it stuck to the ground. Whoops and whistles carried over from the elevator shaft. He shot the padlock off. “This might be bright.”
Ravil squeezed her eyes shut as he threw open the door. Daylight filled the basement. Rake jumped on behind her and scanned the bike’s controls. “Electric.” He turned the ignition all the way. The battery reader flashed on, half-life left. He grinned. “Better than nothing, eh?”
“Uhm.”
He put his gun in her hands and propped his legs up to lock her in place. “Remember what I said about shooting.”
He hit the start button and the bike jumped forward. They tore up the ramp to the street. He turned and forced her to lean into it. He pointed the bike towards the main city and upped the power to full. “Fly baby.”
He squinted against the wind as they rocketed down the street. He could barely see through watering eyes, but he felt the road, he could make out the large objects. Piles of debris and bodies created blockades; he weaved around them, the bike bumping as they went.
Ravil fired and a clump of moving rags flew out of their path. Men and women scrabbled out of decayed buildings and onto the streets. They threw garbage, pipes, and cans. She frowned and shot at both sides as they went, killing people randomly. Some fled, others chased them. A few jumped from windows and overhangs, trying to knock them off the bike. Rake zigzagged and people fell to either side of them.
Ravil squeezed the trigger of one of the guns and nothing happened, she was out of shots. Rake snatched it from her and shoved it into his belt. He shouted over the whine of the engine, “You have one gun left, make the shots count, Ravil!” A wave of nausea hit him in the gut. He bit his lip and tried to ignore it. He ground his teeth. “Not now!” He broke into a cold sweat, his grip on the controls grew slick. The bike wobbled.
Ravil tucked the gun between her legs. She knocked Rake’s hands off the handles and took over steering. He shook his head to dispel his dizziness. “No, I’m the pilot!”
Ravil refused to give up control. She shouted through the helmet, “You are sick!”
Rake wrapped one arm around her stomach and struggled to stay on the bike as she drove. “I am not sick.” His vision blurred, his legs twitched. He held onto the bike seat with one hand and it was an effort not to let go.
Ravil screamed. Rake looked up to see a group of people blocking the road ahead, it appeared to be a group, but he saw everything doubled. He rested his chin on her shoulder, grabbed the gun from her lap, and closed one eye. He raised the weapon and fired, killing everyone in one patch.
Ravil tore through the gap as men and women clawed at them. A man scratched at her shoulder. Rake shot through his arm and they were free. The buildings around them transitioned to blackened husks. The burnt buildings stretched for eight blocks, marking the boundary between those that lived off each other and those that ate off each other.
Rake pointed. “Keep going, past those buildings, a bit past that, no reason to give them a desire to cross the border.” His words slurred together. He closed his eyes and sagged against her.
Ravil drove for blocks until their battery ran out. The bike slowed to a stop and died. She caught her breath. “We made it.”
Rake fell off the bike and hit the concrete, he did not get up.
Ravil jumped from the bike and grabbed his hand; his skin burned and his legs spasmed. His eyes were closed and his breathing shallow. She tore off her helmet and hit him in the chest with it. “Get up! Get up! Get up!”
He blinked and caught the helmet, throwing it to the side. He swiped at her ankles, knocking her to her butt. He rolled to sitting. “Don’t hit me.”
She glared at him, her hoodie plastered to her face with sweat. “You jerk!”
Rake stood in a jolt. He looked around, sniffed the air. He smelled food and people. He scratched his arms without thinking of it. He grabbed the handles of the bike. Consumed by cravings, his only thought was to get his hands on drugs. He watched people walk by and wheeled the bike in the direction they headed. “A market is nearby.”
Ravil grabbed the other handle of the bike. “Now what?”
He rubbed his eyes. “Now I sell this, get breakfast, get high, and fall asleep somewhere.”
“What about me?”
Rake did not look at her. “You can shoo anytime you want.” He pulled out her Bowie knife and handed it back. “I suggest you sell one and keep the other.”
She took the knife and slipped it under her shirt. “Rake.”
“Don’t,” Rake cut her off. “Don’t say anything. I told you, I don’t want to hear it.” His head pounded, his stomach cramped. Pain lanced through his limbs.
“But—”
“Ravil!” He grimaced. “Stop, I don’t have time for you to beg and plead, the answer is still no. I told you this last night.”
Ravil let go of the bike and stopped walking. Rake felt the difference and looked over. He frowned and stole a look back.
Ravil stood in the middle of the street staring at him in shock; her arms limp at her sides. She practically had ‘kidnap me’ written on her face.
There was movement in the alleys. Men nudged each other, the intent in their eyes obvious. Rake let the bike drop to the pavement. He stomped back to Ravil, picked her up, and carried her towards the market. He struggled for air; even this exertion left him tir
ed. “You need to find yourself a buyer.”
“What?”
“You’re not safe on your own and you have zero street sense, you’re going to end up dead.”
She frowned. “But a buyer?”
“Would see you fed and alive at least.” He merged into the crowd of people that walked towards the market. He shifted her weight in his arms.
Ravil stared at the sea of faces. “Buyer for what?”
“For your body.”
Ravil held onto him tighter and pulled on his hair. “No!”
“You need to face reality.” Rake grimaced and scratched his neck. He looked into her eyes. “If you don’t face up to where you are, everything you have is going to be stolen, including your life.” He swallowed. “If you play the game, you can get money for what you can sell, you’ll survive that way.”
“I can’t do that!”
“It’s easier than you think,” Rake snapped and looked over the shorter people around him. “There are places, brothels, which treat girls pretty nice. They make sure no one hits you.”
“No, Rake!” Ravil squirmed in his grip. “No!” She hit him in the shoulders. “No! Don’t do that!”
He stopped. “What do you think is going to happen, Ravil? Are space aliens going to bring you sunshine and sweets and make everything better? Or is a magic unicorn going to run in and pick you up? Are you going to be saved from this place? Or perhaps you believe in a sky God and he’ll save your ass.” He looked at the people around them. “Don’t you think they’d like that too, princess?”
“Please don’t sell me, Rake. Don’t leave me!”
“I am not planning on it, you need to sell yourself. The people market is this way. I’ll make sure you get a good place to go to and a fair deal. I know some people.”
Ravil grabbed his ear and wrenched. “I’ll scream.”
He grimaced. “And you’ll attract the attention of everyone here, making it obvious you’re female. You won’t get ten steps on your own before someone snatches you, drugs you, and puts you in some back alley to be raped to death so that they can eat dinner off of the profits.”
“Rake.”
“Brothel is the way to go I think.” He avoided her gaze. “There are a few that treat the girls real nice. You might get your own room.”
Her eyes emptied of hope. She shook her head. “Why did you take me from the gambling place?”
He frowned. “What?”
“I would have died quickly there.” She went limp in his arms. “Put me down, Rake.”
He dropped her. “What are you doing now?”
She pulled out one of her knives and handed it to him. “Just get it over with.”
“What over with?”
She pointed to her throat. “You stole my quick death at the end of a bullet, so you owe me one. I know you’re good with a blade, it didn’t seem to take that long for the man in that bathroom to bleed to death.”
Rake stared at the knife. “You are fucking insane.”
“Because I’d rather die than be a whore? I guess so.”
“This is ridiculous.” Rake grabbed her shoulder. “Stop being a fool.”
Ravil gestured to the knife. “So, what are you waiting for then?”
He stared at her, dumbfounded. “I am not going to stab you.”
“But you won’t stay with me.”
“I can’t, Ravil. You don’t understand!”
“Drugged and raped to death it is then.” She stomped off. Men saw her walking alone and followed.
Rake raced after her. A man grabbed her shoulder and picked her up, Ravil didn’t resist. Rake ripped her out of his arms. “She’s mine.”
The man scowled. “I do not see marks.”
Rake raised his gun and pressed it to the man’s forehead. “Here’s my mark. Fuck off now or die.” The man backed away. Rake turned the gun to the others that stood by. “That is meant for everyone. She’s not free.” A few held out money. Rake snarled, “I am not selling!”
Ravil spoke into his neck, “Thank you.” Her heart pounded.
“Fuck you too.” Rake kept his gun in his hands. “You’re a goddamn crazy bitch.” He stormed towards the market, his rage tempered by a headache. “Why do you want to die so bad?”
“I don’t.” Ravil frowned. “But I’d rather die now than spend a few more years alive and lose everything that makes me, me.”
He scowled. “Everyone loses parts of themselves that is life. There are buyers and there are sellers. You either are selling or buying and everyone has a price, a product, or a means.”
Ravil held onto him tighter. “What a depressing way to look at life.”
“Realistic.”
She watched him. “Why do you stay alive? What do you have to live for?”
Rake kept his eyes from hers. “No reason and nothing.”
“You fought for me last night.”
“I fought because I didn’t want to get killed by a fucking marine.”
“You stopped trying to escape when you saw that I was a girl.”
“I stopped because you and your old man had attracted their attention. I would have been shot in the back going through that window and being shot really hurts.”
“You care—”
“I do not care!” Rake dropped her. She fell to the concrete and gaped up at him. He held his head. “I don’t care! Go away and find someone else to bother!” His eye ticked. Ravil kept her pink eyes on him; she made no move to get up. He watched men take note of her; she didn’t even look at them.
“Goddamn it!” He picked her up and glared at everyone around him. He muttered, “Bad fucking luck is what this is.”
Ravil was smart enough not to say anything.
Rake had eyes only for the stands. He walked to one and put his empty guns down. He slid them across the wood. A woman handed him cash. He stalked away, his eyes darting back and forth. He saw a pill peddler; Rake eyed his wares, pointed to a blue bottle, held up four fingers and a fist. They exchanged cash for pills and a needle.
Rake swallowed a pill and pocketed the rest. He headed towards the food vendors. He purchased a bag of fried meat and stomped toward a row of tents. He threw another few bills at a man and navigated to one that was empty. He opened the flap and tossed Ravil in, crawling in after her.
Rake put her knife back in her hands and tossed the food at her. “Fucking eat.” He swallowed three more pills and unstrapped his weapons, checking each one over. She stared at him in shock. He grabbed her shoulders. “Eat! Ravil!”
Ravil pulled out a drumstick and bit down, not wanting to look at what it was from. She chewed in silence.
Rake calmed, his sweats stopped, his headache faded and his muscles relaxed. The pain was still present, but he could ignore it. He sighed. “Hand me something.”
She gave him a drumstick. She wiped her hands on her pants. “Where are we?”
“Market whore tents.”
She jumped to her feet. “Why?”
He chewed on his piece of meat. “Now none of the men following us think you are a virgin anymore and I could use a nap. I didn’t get any sleep last night.”
Ravil could only stare. “What men?”
“Just the men that followed us across the market with plans to kill me and steal you.” He took in her surprised expression, his temper flared up. “Oh I’m sorry did you not notice them? Perhaps because you are fucking stupid and a liability!” Rake sputtered, “Why—why did you have to go there last night? Why did you single me out of the crowd?”
“I didn’t!” Ravil screamed back in his face, “I didn’t want it to be you!”
“What to be me?”
She knew she couldn’t tell him the truth, she shouldn’t tell him anything. She threw her hoodie back and pulled at her hair, frustrated. She was unused to someone who knew nothing about the Empire or Resistance; she didn’t know what to say to him. “Never mind.”
Rake stared at her white hair. “Cover your fucking he
ad.”
“Why?” She snarled, “Maybe I should just run out there like this since I’m such a giant liability to you. Once I’m dead you won’t need to bother.” Ravil pulled at the tent flap. He grabbed her arm. She slapped at his hand. “Let me go.”
“No!” He threw her back towards the dirty cot. “Not until you’re willing to act sensibly!”
Ravil glared at him. “You mean not until I’m willing to become some slut so that you can leave me and not have a guilty conscience!”
“Yes! Exactly!” He blocked the exit. “I do not need your misery and sorrow on my conscience! It’s full. There are no vacancies, especially no girl-shaped spots left!”
Ravil threw a lice-ridden pillow at him. “Already cause the ruin of a few girls my age?”
He struggled to breathe. “Shut the fuck up.”
“What did you do to them, leave them to die or did you hurt them yourself?”
Rake lunged for her and lifted her off her feet. “Shut up, Ravil!” She flinched and closed her eyes. He realized he’d hurt her and let her go, dumping her on the cot.
He sank to the ground and dropped his head into his hands. He stifled a shudder and rifled through his pockets. He pulled out the syringe he’d purchased earlier. He threw off his coat and slipped off his belt.
Ravil stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Shut. Up.” Rake bit the end of the belt and cinched it around his arm. “I’ve paid for this place for the rest of the day. So eat, go to sleep, grieve for your old man, daydream some fucking fantasy world that’s going to save you from all of this, learn to cope with reality, but do not leave.” He stared at the tent flap and put his gun and knives within reach.
She watched him tap a vein. “Is that how you cope?”
“Yes.” Rake jabbed his arm. He looked away and waited for his pain to fade. Euphoric numbness came in a pain-free wave that fell over him and pulled him under. His eyelids fluttered and closed. He dropped to the dirt floor, a sigh escaped his lips.
Ravil leaned over the edge of the cot. She couldn’t tell if he still breathed, she touched his neck. “Rake?”
He batted her hand away. “Stop.”