by Marc Mulero
He turned back.
There she was – Oosnie – waving with a tender smile and glassy eyes.
What else could the boy do? He couldn’t stay… that would mean betraying far more than this friendship. It was her that should come with him. But she wouldn’t. And so he held up his hand, saying goodbye, showcasing the flower as an acknowledgement of her request and a “thank you” for her friendship.
Then the tears rolled. Hers. Eyes shut, she clasped her hands in front of her face, seemingly whispering a short prayer before turning away.
"Pleasure to meet ya.” Morn shook hands with the ship's captain. "Like Victor said, what happened to Artie is unfortunate, but those’re the facts. And I come before you with an opportunity to make double for you and each of your deckhands on all three ships." The blood spatter on Morn's coat wasn't very comforting, but that's what Victor was there for.
"If you’re payin’ double, then you’re either desperate, or you’re takin’ us on a wild ride,” said the man. “Which is it, cowboy?"
"Come on now, Dillen,” Victor let out. “You know that Morn's a Sin. That's the additional risk, and that's why we're paying more."
"Our routes will be shifting on and off the radar and the Hiezers might get on our tail once in a while, but we ain't doing nothin’ but trying to feed our own," Morn added.
"Not what I heard. You fuckers took one of their fortresses."
"That's true, but I won't let that be any business of yours,” Morn promised. “You can just make your double, lodge for free, and do as you please."
Dillen stroked his beard and closed one of his eyes to get a good look at the guy he thought was playing him for a fool, scrutinizing him like he was gunk on the bottom of his shoe.
Tension was rising. It was about to come to blows, until Milos abruptly pushed to the front of Morn and Victor, throwing everyone for a loop. "We're good people. We just want a chance."
Morn, smiling at the much-needed interruption, rested his rusty metallic hand on Milos' shoulder. "Eh, listen to the boy."
Dillen pursed his lips. Maybe this was just a test of character. Maybe not. But when the man’s expression relaxed and he took a step back, a load fell off all of their shoulders.
"Fine, cowboy, you got yourself a deal.” He held out a dirty, hairy hand to meet Morn's, and looked to Victor. "I've known ya a long time, Doran. You better not be trying anything stupid."
"I've been with the Sins for enough time to know that I wouldn't be here trying to convince you of anything if I didn't believe in them myself," Victor assured.
"You part o' them now?" Dillen asked.
"In all but their mark," Victor responded proudly.
"Alright, let's see where this deal goes," Dillen decided. "Oh and by the way, you were misinformed. Our fleet is ten ships, not a measly three. So, you better got shit to trade."
"The third mansion is ready for occupancy," Kenna exclaimed with satisfaction, lowering her clipboard. "Our builders take pride in their work and boy, does it show.” She motioned toward the recently washed construction. "In all fairness, not to pat myself on the back, but some glue was needed to bring this all together."
"I know, Kenna, this couldn't have been completed without your coordinating abilities," Cherris said, patting her back for her. "You're five weeks ahead of schedule, too. When I was a little girl, I remember my pops hollering about workers taking their time or not showing up. You, my dear, must have a golden whip."
Kenna adjusted her shabby glasses. "No, I'm just very, very persistent. It's quite easy when our neighborhood is a total of just three buildings.”
"I could have sworn that you were only supposed to be in charge of budgets." Cherris displayed a playful smile.
Kenna cleared her throat. "Let's just say the former manager wasn’t up to par."
Cherris nodded. "Uh huh."
"How's the education program coming along?" Kenna asked.
"Very well. It warms my heart to see the little ones sitting in a classroom, as I once did."
“Ohh… yes, yes, I know that feeling. I get it when people get off their lazy asses and work harder than ever before!”
Cherris blinked and narrowed her eyes. “Hm. I think that’s a different feeling...”
Kenna shrugged and pivoted to look toward the breach point, her brain obviously running a mile a minute. "Progress. Progress. Progress. We can only keep going if we’re safe, right? We’ve been curiously lucky that there haven’t been any Hiezer threats on our mansions since that crazed killer crept up in the night…"
"I know, it gives me a strange feeling, too." Cherris peered up to the sky.
Eugene stretched his legs and folded his arms behind his head, forming a body pillow against Jen’s headboard. Covers were ruffled and unkempt. A dose of each other was like heroin for both. He was shirtless in his underwear for what felt like the entire day, while she rolled to press her soft, smooth skin against his. He had a glow from rekindling his past, and Jen was smoky, well, just because.
"This may be the last night I see you for a while." Eugene ran his fingers through her hair. "Blague is adamant about pooling all available commanders to this upcoming mission."
Jen looked up into his eyes, appearing wary and hesitant in her speech. "I'm… I’m also saying farewell for now. The time has come that I face the island… again."
Eugene clenched his jaw and held her gaze tight. "Don't go getting lost on me again."
"I'll keep it together, don't worry." She flashed her pearly whites. "I want to give you a parting gift, but you have to trust me."
"What kinda gift are we talking here?" Eugene arched an eyebrow.
Jen held out her hand, letting the smoke seep toward his head.
Eugene sighed. "No, I don't want any of that."
"Please, just relax.” She forced the smoke onto him.
After a quick eye-roll, Eugene sat back to let the smolder consume him.
"The time has come to storm the arsenal on the fifth floor of building one-two-one-seven." Blague paced about, addressing the two men. "You have the right mindset, now we just have to arm you with the right tools. If your intel is on point, sniper, we’ll be creating an army by the time we’re done here. Bag the goods and off we go to smuggle these weapons into Senation."
Eugene looked over to the towering giant to the right of him.
"You both have stellar backgrounds which I'm sure will enable you to participate at a high level within our movement, so don't let her do all of the work," Blague teased, motioning to Lesh with his head.
Briggs pounded his chest with determination. "I’m here to avenge my wife by stopping this cycle of death. I’ve watched it for too long now, and have done nothing. It’s time I catch up. Whatever it takes to carry out this mission."
"Good. And what about you?" Blague shifted his attention to Eugene.
"I'm here because I have nowhere else to be," he said bluntly.
"You're about to risk your life because of a lack of previous engagements? Doubtful," Blague rebuked, walking a step closer to the revered sniper. "You’ve lost someone to the Hiezers, like the rest of us. I stand before you to help you seek justice in this crumbling world."
Eugene’s head slumped and shook disapprovingly. "Why would you help, or better yet, trust someone who isn't up-front with you?" he challenged in a grave tone. "I could be double-crossing all of you.”
"A gamble, Eugene. A calculated gamble. But the odds are on my side, you see. I’d like to think that I'm an astute judge of character."
“I like you too, buddy. I get good vibes.” Briggs jiggled Eugene’s shoulder, watching as the sniper’s brow became knitted. “No, no, not like that!” He waved his hands in defense.
Eugene shivered at the thought, and then winced when he heard Briggs laughing.
"Shut the fuck up, will you? Are you trying to draw attention to us?" Eugene scolded, followed by a sigh.
"This is the future you were referring to, Blague?" Lesh assessed
the two men in front of her with a look of disgust. "I'm hardly impressed."
"Give it time, these two will shape up," Blague promised. He beckoned another man over.
Drino took strong steps, keeping his mean mug intact like a drill sergeant on his worst day. He glared contemptuously, first at Briggs, like he was roadkill, and then at Eugene, like he was the shit that the roadkill left behind. Briggs’ size didn’t matter at this point - Drino appeared taller. He pushed an archaic pistol against each of their chests and left some encouraging words before moving on: "Don’t let me hear that I wasted perfectly good munitions on your asses.”
The two looked down to their chests, then at each other. Eugene in particular felt like he was being primed for their assault in a back alley like actors readying for a violent play backstage. It didn’t feel real. Bandages were bound tightly around their Sin marks, so they could pretend they were normal citizens – hah. Guns of the Old World, the only weapons they could muster, were inspected to ensure they would still operate if the situation called for it. Who cares, he thought, this would be as good a place as any to die. And armor of the New World, large at first, Kevlar-type protection, shrunk like wet cotton under heat once properly strapped.
Once ready, he peered up to the Remdonian architecture towering high around them. Most hadn’t seen such castle-inspired structures in years, maybe ever for some. They loomed like crowned giants made of stone, evoking some very unpleasant memories for the sniper. He was reminded of how strangely modern window panels clashed with the ancient stone siding, and sleek entranceways did nothing to resemble old drawbridges. Their target was much like their leader - a fossil augmented for the future.
"Alright, Remdon, what's our play?" Lesh twirled a knife in between her fingers.
Eugene touched his branded arm and then looked back at Lesh, as if to say, “We're the same.”
"Keep one of the two guards on the fifth floor alive, and extract the code to access the arsenal before reinforcements arrive. Hold the room until we can haul the weapons out of the back window and rope down. Rendezvous with our escape transport and disappear with the wind," Eugene said without pause. "Satisfied?"
From a few feet away, Lito jumped from his seat excitedly and lifted his goggles. "What's with this guy? He sounds so sad all the time." He stuck his neck out to invade the sniper’s personal space, focusing mismatched pupils on him as if he were a gadget to be tinkered with. "Cheer up, mijo.” An arm wrapped around his shoulders. “Worst case, we just hide behind this shit ton of bricks.” He draped his other arm around Briggs’ back, and then kicked the giant in the shin. “What do you weigh, tres elefantes?"
Blague grinned. "Alright Sins, let's move."
All objects and sound suddenly became distorted. Eugene tried blinking to clear his vision, but everything faded faster into incoherent blobs, and the voices around him resembled churning machinery.
He awakened in a panic, shouting that he couldn’t see, and then fluttered his eyes until a hazy image of Jen came to life. She was calm and content, with both arms reaching out for him.
"You were smiling, Eugene. Don't let me take that away from you.” Her words repeated on loop. She whirled her hands and forced more smoke around his head before everything wasted away again.
"You said you were a sniper for the Hiezers, right?" Briggs asked, holding out a sleek black rifle with a red line etched into its base. "Take this, buddy. I have a feeling you'll watch my back well with it." He smiled genuinely.
"Rápido, boys, I set the charges,” Lito declared. “Get your asses out the back. You're both doing great. No lies on 'jur background, I see.”
Blague stood near the door, watching with his Desert Eagle drawn. "I should have wagered more.” He glimpsed Eugene.
Eugene grinned as he strapped the rifle to his back while Briggs clipped a sub-machine gun to each of his sides. And then everyone froze. The ground trembled from a barrage of incoming footsteps, like an unseen stampede. It was for them… it had to be. They were found out. The shriek of a booming alarm suddenly came to life, sending fingers into ears, teeth bared from discomfort. It was a signal that the time for covertness was over, and the race had begun. Silent curses were spat as they scrambled to depart.
Briggs flipped a sturdy sack full of weapons over his shoulder and tied it around a latch on his vest.
“Hah, Santa Claus,” Lito laughed amongst the chaos, hitting Briggs on the back while he climbed out the window.
Eugene shook his head at the idiocy and followed after his comrade.
“Go!” Blague shouted, opening fire on the incoming Hiezer guards. He backed away, unloading the whole clip before kicking the door shut. “Ten seconds at most!” He exchanged a look with Lito and followed him to the back window. “On my mark.”
“Si, jefe.”
The demolitionist slapped on his goggles and swung over the ledge out into the fresh air with a detonator between his teeth.
“Now, Lito. Do it!” Blague bellowed.
Lito clung to their escape rope, wrapping one arm around to steady himself and reaching for the detonator with the other. “Hold on everyone,” he yelled, slamming down the lever.
Eugene looked past the giant swaying directly below him to see an impatient Lesh and Drino beckoning them from the ground level. Both kept a hand on the getaway truck to keep weapon filled sacks from spilling over. He didn’t know why it was happening, but the experience seemed to hit him all at once – excitement rushing through his veins for the first time since he’d been thrust into Sin-hood. It felt good to defy the hierarchy.
And then, in the blink of an eye, Lito’s activated explosion trailed an airborne Blague swan-diving from the back window. The fireproof rope whipped dramatically to test them, and a rush of hot air heated their scalps.
The cord swung like it was reaching for the Sin Leader on its own accord, an angel extending its hand to save him from plummeting, from certain death. He stretched back and graciously accepted. Ssssssss. Palms burned almost immediately while he wildly twirled around the possessed line, lurching with the entire squad like they were all riding a giant bull.
“Shit!” Eugene screeched, feeling the rope whip free from his grip. He grasped at nothing… that instant of being airborne with no support, in free-fall, sent an unsettling tingle of panic throughout his body.
Thrown from the rope like an amateur rider. Pathetic. He didn’t belong in this rebellion, wasn’t cut out for it, and… maybe, here, his wish for death would come true.
But Briggs had a different motive. He was drawn to the grunts and curses from his new buddy, prompting an instinctive snatch that ended with his clasped hand around a flailing leg at the last second. He squeezed even tighter around the rope so as not to fly off with him.
“Arrrh…” Teeth gritted as the added bulk dragged them both down, taxing the giant arm bearing the weight of two bodies. Until, finally, they settled. His pull relaxed and Briggs let Eugene swing below like a pendulum.
The sniper felt blood rush to his head in his upside-down dangle, catching a glimpse of Lesh staring back, dumbfounded by the sight of the new recruit struggling to right himself.
Further up, just as he caught his breath, Lito realized he could help. His gloves could prevent abrasion, his lanky self could slither around bodies if need be. And so, he loosened his grip on the rope and let himself slide down to Briggs’ position, tightening his grip and slowing just centimeters before slamming onto the giant’s head.
“Hold on, Santa!” he shouted, maneuvering his way over Briggs’ body and below a dangling Eugene. “Gotcha.” He grabbed onto the sniper’s hand and yelled, “I got him! Let go!”
Briggs released his hold on the sniper’s ankle, causing him to fall into a right side up position, secured only by Lito who swung for Eugene to grab back on – a circus act completed.
“’You’re good, man. We got your back.,” Lito flashed his crazed smile. “Now get movin’.”
Briggs let out a cheer. “G
o, baby, go!”
Eugene sprung back from the vibrant memory. He put up his hand for Jen to stop, and held back a gag. “Th- that was real. I was there, reliving my past.”
“That’s what I wanted to show you. Do you see how easy it could be to lose yourself in this?”
“I do now,” he responded, still short of breath. “Briggs,” he said lowly to himself as he sat hunched on the bed, resting arms over knees.
Jen drew her smoke back inward, letting it dissipate from the air so she could sneak back into Eugene’s familiar nook. Her arms wrapped his body in comfort for his loss, for she, too, had lived his memory.
He turned to kiss her forehead.
“Eugene, stay safe, wherever it is that you’re going.”
Chapter 11
Sin fighters swung open the mansion’s back doors to admit their leader, and more of the same lined the entranceway with their chins up and chests out. Biljin followed Blague, gliding through with impeccable posture while picking dirt from his nails, likely vexed by the inconvenience of having to meet him outdoors just a while before.
All eyes, from the commanders who were seated ahead in the meeting area to the rigid soldiers beside, were on the man who looked more feral than human. Blague’s elegance had left him - hunched like a werewolf and tangled with a dark fireball of hair lurking behind him. He plodded forward with faltering steps, as though he were wading through a copious fog.
Six days of this. Nights of endless, sleepless dwelling. Everything is fleeting… all of it. How could it be possible that you’re still in there somewhere, Elaina? How could it be that you’re locked inside of me like a forbidden treasure?
Applying pressure to his temples, Blague stared at the floor.
I have to hold it together, for the Sins.
“It looks like we’re late,” Biljin muttered to Blague.
“We may very well be. My concept of time has faded this past week.”