Wastes of Space

by Darcy Town

  She stared at him, glad that he was alive at least. She picked up the syringe he had used and sniffed it. She wiped the blood off the needle and did the same for his arm. He mumbled, but she ignored him. She slid the belt off his arm and looked at the track marks in his skin. She touched his veins.

  His eyes flicked open. “Sammy!” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the floor, drawing her into a hug. Ravil froze against him, but he passed back into a comatose state with a smile on his face. His face relaxed, no longer angry, cruel, or sick. He looked handsome, warm, and strong.

  A blush spread across her skin and she panicked, remembering Calpsan’s warning. She pushed at his arms. “Let me go.” She punched him, but he didn’t feel it. She bit his arm, but he did not notice. She sulked, unable to move.

  Ravil glared at his stubborn limb and noticed the fine scars and scratch marks from his wrist to his shoulder. She grabbed one of his hands and looked at his fingernails. There was blood under them, but she could not tell if it was his or someone else’s. She looked back at his arms. “Calpsan, why did you leave me with him?”

  “Sammy Sam Tam-a-Lam,” Rake mumbled in a singsong voice.

  Ravil held her knife up to her chin and rested the blade against her chest. Her pink eyes focused on the entrance. She listened to Rake’s heartbeat slow down, his breaths got shallower. She scratched her sweaty hair. “Damn it. Damn you.”

  Rake’s eyes opened. “Hmm, Bebette?” He smiled at her and flicked her nose lightly.

  Ravil glared at him. “Damn you.” She punched him. He looked at her with a crooked smile on his face. She sat up and threw his arm off. She hit him in the chest with the hilt of her blade. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate this place! Why are you Wasters so pathetic and useless?”

  Rake made a face. “Not nice.”

  “I can’t afford to be nice!” She hit him again. “I have the Empire looking for me, you Waster idiot!”

  He yawned. “Me too.”

  Ravil hit him and then gaped. “What?”

  He nodded. “Yep.” He rolled to his side and closed his eyes.

  “No, tell me what you mean!”

  Rake mumbled and scooted away from her. She grabbed at his neck and pulled on his necklace. His eyes shot open. “Let go.”

  She eyed him. “No.”

  He shook in fear and anger. “Let go now.”

  She scooted backwards, pulling him up by his pendant. “No.”

  Rake tackled her. She let go of the necklace. He tucked it in his shirt and touched his nose to hers. “Touch that again and I will cut a finger off and eat it.” She gulped and nodded; he closed his eyes. “Good.” He rolled to his back and smiled at the tent.

  “So what am I supposed to do while you space out?” Ravil punched him in the neck. “Rake!”

  Rake opened one eye and breathed out through his nose. He searched his leather jacket and pulled out a thin electronic device. He grabbed the ear buds that were wrapped around it. He rolled to his side and reached for her face. She flinched. Rake raised an eyebrow. “Chill out, Bebette.” He pushed one ear bud into her ear, then the other. He fiddled with the device and put it in her hands. “Watch.”

  She stared as the screen lit up. She touched her ears. Fanfare played through the ear buds. “What is this?”

  Rake stared at her. “Only the greatest three movies in existence, back to back, on looped repeat.”

  Ravil looked between him and the screen. “What?”

  “You’ll see.” He pointed to the device. “Pay attention, that’s important shit. Now leave me alone and be careful, that’s my fucking bible as far as you’re concerned.” He closed his eyes. Ravil watched as the opening crawl of Star Wars rolled across the screen.

  ***

  Marx licked a windowpane. His Velcro-like tongue caught every bit of hair and blood that splattered the glass. Children ran by on the walkway outside the apartment. They gaped. Marx waved and smiled. The children backed up and ran away. The Hunter watched them go. “How much longer do we stay? We have been noticed.” He trailed his tongue down the wall.

  Lincoln looked up. “Try and be a bit more discreet, Marx.”

  Kennedy walked in from the kitchen, a human leg in his hands. He gnawed on the heel. “You so boring, Lincoln!”

  Lincoln turned to Kennedy. “And you’re so very not.”

  Marx smiled slightly. “No wonder you are paired.”

  “It has its advantages.” Lincoln leaned over an aged Asian woman. “Now that we’ve conversed with everyone else, will you tell us what we want?”

  The woman stared at the leg in Kennedy’s grip, she recognized it. She held back tears. “I do not remember a girl that was not one of mine in the establishment that night. A girl as you describe would have caused a stir. She would be worth much money. If she lives she has been snatched up and sold.”

  Lincoln took off a black cotton glove. He waved his hand in front of her face, five curving hollow claws slipped out of his fingertips. He jabbed her in the shoulder and blood filled the claw up to his fingertip. He brought the claw to his mouth and sucked it like a straw. Lincoln rolled blood around in his mouth like wine. “I think you lie, but regardless, was there a child of any kind?”

  The woman sucked in air. “Yes there was a child, a boy.”

  “What happened to the child?”

  “The confusion, it was lost...”

  Kennedy sat by the woman and threw the leg down to the ground. “What did child look like?”

  The woman looked between the pair. “Small, and very thin.”

  “Hair?” Kennedy sniffed her.

  The woman closed her eyes. “Covered with a hat and a hood.”

  “Eye?”

  “Covered, shadowed. Please, I did not look, it had no money, and we do not peddle children.”

  Lincoln purred. “Was it with someone?”

  The woman nodded. “Two men. An old one and a young one.”

  Lincoln frowned. “A young one? Strange.” He looked to Marx. “There were no more guardians?”

  Marx shook his head. “No, none. No recent arrivals either, no one has made it past the blockade.”

  Lincoln looked over. “A Navigator could.”

  Marx cleaned blood off his glasses. “You think a Navigator would come?”

  Kennedy fidgeted. “What color did young guardian have?”

  The woman clenched her jaw. “Dark, like the rest of us in this city.”

  “Faked?”

  “Dyed? No.”

  Lincoln waved Kennedy back and crouched over the woman. “Did he make it out alive? This young man?”

  The woman gulped. “If anyone could, he would.”

  Lincoln smiled. “I want his full description. You will provide it to me now.”

  ***

  Rake heard muffled talking, scuffling. He kept his eyes closed, his fingers slowly moved towards the knife by his side. A gun pressed up against his temple. “Rake, don’t.”

  Rake recognized the British accent, his eyes shot open. He looked up. “Mica.”

  A man stood over him. In his mid twenties, Mica wore his blonde hair short and wavy, his clothing immaculate. He held an unlit cigarette between two fingers. He smiled. “Still smart as always, Rake. We have a business opportunity at our hands, so get up.”

  Rake rolled to his feet, stood, and put his back to the tent wall. Ravil was in the arms of a buff Thai man. He had covered her mouth, but otherwise she was not hurt. Two wiry men stood in front of them, ready to jump in if Rake tried anything. Ravil stared at Rake, helpless. Rake did not meet her gaze.

  Mica watched him scan the space. He grinned. “Still the soldier.”

  “Pilot.” Rake looked Mica over. “What are you here for and why are you manhandling what is mine?”

  “The girl—”

  “I am referring to my guns.” Rake pointed to his weapons, which Mica held. “Those are mine.”

  Mica raised an eyebrow and tucked a gun into his belt. “Empire
issue, somehow I do not believe you came by these legally, so I am reclaiming them. No need for you to get into trouble, friend. You have enough people after you after all.”

  Rake smiled mirthlessly. “Thank you, friend.” He folded his arms. “Why are you here, Mica?”

  Mica jerked his head towards Ravil. “We are taking her off your hands, though you are being paid very well, no one is cheating you.”

  “Virote?”

  “An agent in the market reported her to him. You know he loves giving good gifts when politicians visit.” Mica stepped up to Ravil and tipped her chin back. “When do you think anyone was given an albino girl, an albino virgin?”

  “She’s not.” Rake gestured to the tent.

  Mica sighed. “Rake, you do still like to joke.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Bullshit. I know what you have for the blondes.” Mica lit his cigarette and took a long drag. “Always your weak spot. You should be glad I’m taking her off your hands.” He waved to the entrance. “We had to shoot a few men to get through. There were ten or so planning to jump you for her, now you can leave and live. Isn’t that your way? One of those phrases of yours. Leave and live, that’s a good one.”

  Rake took a step forward. Mica raised Rake’s gun. “Don’t be stupid.” He gestured to a bag. “A month’s supply in exchange, a more than fair price.”

  Rake faltered and turned to the black bag on the cot. He opened it, pulled out a wrapped syringe. “Medical grade.”

  “Not cut with any shit.” Mica blew a smoke ring. “You’re still yourself, Rake.” He gestured the others out and waited until they left. Mica looked him over. “He’s still keeping a job position open by the way. You’ll need to kick the junk, but the position’s there.”

  Rake did not look up from the bag. “I do not like working for others.”

  “But you’re fine debasing yourself in alleys sucking dick for money.” Mica scoffed. “Such odd priorities.”

  Rake swallowed. “I know where I stand when I am at the bottom.” He looked up. “I’d rather be in the shit doing something honest, than working for someone else at the top.”

  “What a true American.” Mica put his cigarette out and handed Rake his card. “This isn’t anything personal by the way, taking what’s yours. If it had been anyone else, I would have killed them.”

  “Such a friend.”

  “Of course, ex-pats gotta stick together, especially in this shit hole.” He sighed. “I won’t hurt her, you know that.”

  “Someone will.”

  “That is not something for the likes of us to think of. I want to be paid, Rake, so I do my job.” Mica lit another cigarette. “Stop thinking like a flyboy, we’re not kids anymore.”

  “No.” Rake shouldered the black bag. “We just prey on them now.”

  Mica made a face. “You and your ideals. Enjoy your stuff.” He stepped outside.

  Rake looked at the business card.

  ***

  Terror and rage made it hard for Ravil to hear anything besides the blood pounding in her ears. Mica stepped outside the tent and looked to the others. “He won’t come after, let’s get going.”

  Ravil screamed into the hand of the man that held her. He shook her, but she wouldn’t stop. Mica glared at him. “Do not damage her.” He looked back at the tent. “It will rile him up if he hears her screaming bloody murder.”

  “Why is that an issue?” One of the wiry men stepped up. “We were ordered to execute him.”

  Mica frowned. “And I am saying that is not necessary, so we’re not going to.”

  The man scowled. “Virote said to and he outranks you, Micale.”

  Ravil kicked the man that held her, she screamed Rake’s name. Mica sighed. The other man stepped past him with a gun in hand. Mica turned and shot him in the back of the head. He looked to Ravil. “They never know when to listen to reason.” He put his gun away. “Time to go.”

  He pulled out his cell phone and walked some distance ahead. “Secured.” He flipped the phone shut and stepped through mud and garbage. He headed past the tents, towards the street. He walked quickly.

  A rush of air whistled past Ravil’s ears. The man who held her gurgled, blood dripped onto her forehead. She looked up. Four syringes were embedded in the man’s neck, contents fully discharged. She frowned.

  The man keeled over on top of her and pinned her to the ground. Her face was pressed into the dirt, mud went up her nostrils. She pushed against him. She struggled, but could not roll the body off her back. She kicked, desperate to breathe. A hand grabbed hers and pulled her up to her feet. Ravil gasped for air.

  Rake pushed her to the ground as the last Thai fighter came at him. He jumped to the side and smashed his hand into the man’s neck, a distinct crack followed. The man dropped. Rake threw down his bag of syringes and helped Ravil up. “You okay?”

  “Yeah…” She wiped her face off, confused and shaken. “What’s happening?”

  Rake wrapped an arm around her and grabbed his bag. “Shh.”

  Mica sauntered over. He flicked his cigarette ash and put his empty hands in the air. “Oh no, I couldn’t have foreseen this.”

  Rake scanned the tents. “Who else is coming, Mica?”

  Mica frowned. “Right now? No one and no one will until they realize that you were just too badass for us to handle.” He lit a new cigarette with the last one and tossed the old to the ground. He ducked down and looked at Ravil’s eyes. “Contacts and hair dye, Rake. And teach her how to defend herself.”

  Rake grimaced. “Why would I do that? I just met her.”

  “And now you’re sure to leave her to the wolves?”

  The pair glared at each other. Mica turned away. Rake hissed. “I want my guns back, Mica.”

  “No.” Mica glanced back. “They track this stuff. I already had to wipe the others you sold at the market. Fuck Rake, it’s like you want them to catch you.”

  Rake ground his teeth. “I don’t.”

  “Then stop leaving your fucking fingerprints all over everything.” Mica took a long drag. “The rest of us don’t want them here, you are being a goddamn liability.”

  Rake stomped his foot. “I was here first, you lackey shits followed me.”

  “And we’re all doing better than you too!”

  Rake spoke quietly, “I did not come here to do better. I came here to—”

  “Lose yourself.” Mica flicked ash into the air. “Yeah Rake, I know. It’s all rather depressing of you too. The Space Silence didn’t drive us to be suicidal fuck-ups, so get over it already.”

  Rake leaned towards Mica. His voice came out a hiss, “All I lived for was that program, and you know that.”

  “And now you have a girl. If you won’t live because your family wants you to, are you willing to live for her?”

  Rake took a step away from Ravil. “She is not my responsibility.”

  “Yet you protect her as if she was.”

  Rake said nothing. Mica rubbed his temples. “Rake, make a decision. If you’re not going to give her up to the city, then commit to sticking with her. I don’t care which, but only one choice is going to keep you alive, and not just in body, in spirit, Rake.”

  “Don’t preach at me, Mica.”

  “Why not? Someone needs to.” Mica pointed at Rake’s bag. “You go down that rabbit hole and she’ll be gone one of the times you come up for air.” He stepped over and got in Rake’s face. “That is a guarantee. Quit that garbage already, Rake. You are going to die!”

  Rake grabbed four syringes and shoved the bag at Mica’s hands. “Do not tell me what I need to do or what my choices are!”

  “For a person that lectures others about playing the game, you sure don’t.” Mica picked the bag up and his face softened. “Just think about it all right. If you’re not going to stay with her, don’t dump her on the streets. At least give her to Katarina or Danny, they’ll see her right. I’d take her myself, but if Virote finds me with her, well I’m g
ood as dead for taking what he considers his now. And yes, that’s a fucking clear as day warning to you.”

  Rake glared. “I can’t go around to them at the moment and you know it.”

  “Not everything is about you and what you need. They would understand.” Mica looked at Ravil and then back to Rake. “Look, if you’re not planning on actually helping her, then whatever it is that you’re doing now, it’s fucking masochistic and sadistic and far fucking beneath the man I knew you once were. Think about her, she’s a kid, Rake.”

  Rake grabbed Ravil’s hand and pulled her to his side. “I know she’s a kid.”

  “Then grow up and take some responsibility for something.” Mica rubbed his jaw and smiled at Ravil. “Next time you punch make sure you’re standing right, it was a good one though.” He turned and walked away.

  Rake called after him, “What are you going to tell Virote?”

  “That I retire. Leave and live right?”

  “Why? You are doing well here.”

  Mica smirked. “No one orders me to shoot my family, even if they’re dicks and deserve it.” He stopped when he reached the street. He saluted the air. “Luke, over and out.”

  Rake and Ravil watched him go. He patted her on the head. “Are you hurt?”

  “No.” She squeezed his hand. “What just happened?”

  He squinted and pocketed the syringes. “You wouldn’t understand.” Ravil stomped on his foot. He looked down at her. “You are rather rude; I just saved your life.”

  Ravil bared her teeth. “You’re patronizing me!”

  He flipped out Mica’s business card. “Fine.” He handed it to her.

  She took it. “English, finally.” She squinted and bit her lip. “The…there, eee…is...”

  “There is a gun in the bag, Solo. Shoot first.” Rake took the card back and held up a strange looking gun. He loaded a syringe into the gun and pretended to fire it. “Bam.”

  “He gave you a gun?”

  “Of a sort.” Rake smiled.

  “But he kidnapped me!”

  “Mica’s weird.” Rake walked towards the street. “All the former US Liberty chaps are a little off, the isolation makes them philosophize, think in the grand scheme of things, believe in god and karma. Bullshit stuff like that.” He stretched. “Speaking of, do you still have my movie player?” Ravil pulled it out of her pocket and offered it to him. He pushed it back. “Keep it for now.”