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by Rachel Martin


  “Hey, I thought we were going to that party?” Sasha whined looking over at Zach.

  “Yeah… yeah, we are, don’t worry,” Mia replied, and winked.

  Jack shot Mia a look. She had work tomorrow, and apparently, they needed the money. Mia totally ignored him.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get ready in a bit,” Mia continued. “Why don’t you take off that ugly old over-coat, you’re not in the compounds now?”

  Mia stood in front of Sasha and helped her unbutton the floor-length coat. It was ridiculous that they had to cover-up like that in this heat, but rules were rules, and the material was surprisingly thin.

  “Wow, I love that dress, Sash.”

  “Thanks.” Sasha curtsied. “I made it myself.”

  “Ooh, you made it, how exciting.”

  “Yes, it’s one of the many homely things I do now that I’m a certified house-wife.”

  Zach groaned, Sasha chuckled.

  “I have to find something to do to pass the time trapped in that house all day. Don’t I love? The TV is shocking. You know, sometimes I feel like we’ve gone back in time.”

  “Really?” Mia said. “In there?”

  “Yeah,” Sasha nodded and sat on Mia’s chair by the window. “It’s hard to believe, I know. But…” She started fiddling with a bit of paper on the desk. “I guess, it could be worse, much, much worse. Besides, I’d rather be at home sewing, than at one of the compound tea parties. Trust me, I feel like a bloody Stepford-wife, but worse dressed.”

  They all laughed.

  “You can’t get hold of anything like this anymore.” Sasha lifted up the hem of her short dress. “Not in the compounds anyway.”

  “Not out here either,” Jack commented. “Everything’s either really expensive or fifty-hand.”

  “Or stolen,” Mia said from the kitchen as she clicked on the kettle. She pulled a fresh wine-glass from the rack and filled it, then chucked two cans at Jack and Zach.

  “Everything’s expensive in the compounds too you know, but we have to buy things just to fit in, we would be seen as deviating if we didn’t…”

  There was an awkward silence.

  “Deviating sounds fun,” Mia said passing Sasha a glass of wine.

  “Does it now?” Sasha said conspiratorially.

  “Yep,” Mia replied stepping back over to the kitchen to grab a coffee.

  The coffee aroma was filling the room. It smelled burnt and cheap, as usual.

  “You two need to catch up,” Mia said realising that everyone was staring at her and wondering why she had the coffee.

  They all nodded. Jack flopped down beside Zach on the sofa and elbowed him in the stomach. Zach crunched forwards:

  “Bastard,” Zach laughed.

  Jack grabbed the remote out of his hand and switched on a music channel. It was playing some new age electronica robot shit, but it was better than silence, or the news, or hour-long adverts.

  “So, how you feeling after, you know?” Mia asked.

  “The operation?” Sasha replied, then sipped her wine. Her face cringed.

  “Sorry,” Mia laughed, “it’s the only wine I could find that was clean and cheap enough for us losers.”

  “It’s OK.” Sasha suffered another sip. “It’ll be alright in a minute.” She shook her head. “Wow… Yeah, anyway, I’m feeling pretty good considering. They just take the whole thing out now. Don’t want any accidents I guess. Pains pretty much gone. Good thing is I lost some weight.”

  “About time too,” Zach joked.

  Sasha scowled at him. “Anyway,” she said looking back at Mia, “I’m happy. I have my two kids.” She sipped more wine.

  There was an awkward silence. They all stared at the tele.

  “Do you know they make you pay for the op now?” Zach said. “The op they force you to have in the first place.”

  “Really, thought it was all done through the compound taxes,” Jack said.

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? I mean the taxes are extortionate, they’re cleaning us out, we have no savings left anymore, but still, they want more.” There was a moment of muted fury in Zach’s eyes. “They never have enough, I feel like a worthless battery for the stupid machine. I’m almost spent. I tell you.”

  Mia and Jack shared a look. Mia’s eyes were twinkling.

  “They really can’t get enough those evil bloodsuckers,” Zach continued with a laugh.

  They all nodded.

  “There’s always some new remote project to pay for, or some other bull-shit we have no idea about but have to find the money to pay for. I sometimes wonder how we’ll cope in a few months’ time, let alone in a few years,” Sasha said, then swigged her wine.

  “And the ops not cheap either, we had to get a bloody loan out to pay for it. I guess it’s their way of punishing us for adding to the population crisis,” Zach continued. “But without children… I mean they’re both GM’d up to the max. They had to be. They’re going to be assets, but… it all feels a bit, well, clinical, I don’t know, a bit like, well you know…”

  “Don’t Zach,” Sasha said.

  They all drank in unison. Each of them staring at the strange hypnotic visualisations on the tele. Jack didn’t like looking at it for too long, he blinked and looked down at Mia. She was sat cross-legged on the floor beside him now, leaning into his legs. Jack turned the volume down a bit, he was worried that they were getting sucked into something none of them would know about until it was far too late. Mia looked up at him and sipped her coffee. For some reason, he hated seeing the coffee in her hands. He really wanted her to drink tonight. He needed her to be merry and brave, something was going to happen tonight, he could feel it coming. She needed to be without restraint. Drunkenness was the catalyst, it was one of the few freedoms that still existed. Freedom from worry. Freedom from civil control. If it hadn’t been for alcohol, they would never have met in the first place. Tequila shots, the salt, and lemons. It was one of the best nights of his life. He had been so happy. They had danced the night away. Anything and everything was possible. They were so young. Too young. They knew nothing of the real world, of the real world to be. They spent hours filling each other’s heads with empty notions of future happiness. It never existed in the first place… but now??? It was totally impossible. Jack gulped down more beer and watched Mia down the rest of her coffee. He caught her eye and held it. Simmering inside her was his only hope. His only chance at real freedom. She was pulling him somewhere, somewhere outside of himself. He would fight on instinct again. But when? He needed the alcohol to lubricate her. He didn’t have it in him to break the self-imposed rules and morals they inflicted on themselves, but she did, she had it in her to lead them. She smiled radiantly up at him as if she knew his thoughts. Perhaps she did.

  “Come on Sash, Zach, hurry up,” Mia said, looking away from Jack. She laughed and stood up. “Down it, down it.”

  They both tipped their drinks into their mouths and Mia grabbed the empties. She made more drinks.

  “You know, it’s so good to get out of the compounds and come and see you guys,” Sasha said. “We never get to do anything even remotely fun these days.”

  “Trust me, you really don’t want to spend too much time out here though,” Jack said. “Especially with the little ones. Never ever bring them out here. At least you know they’re safe in there, well safer.”

  “Yeah I know, but I just feel like we’re being watched and judged all the time,” Sasha said.

  “To be honest, I feel like that out here,” Mia said. “But at least no one goes missing in there.”

  “No one we know about at least,” Sasha said.

  “Indeed,” Zach muttered.

  “And it’s so boring in there. There’s nowhere to let your hair down and relax like we used to. I still can’t get over the fact alcohol’s been banned… It’s all green tea, sugar-free cake, and vegan food. And… guess what?”

  “What?” Mia asked.

  “It’s g
etting harder and harder to leave the compounds. They really don’t like it. We almost had a stand-up row at the tube entrance today even though we could prove we had our inoculations.”

  “Oh my God, what happened?” Mia asked.

  “Just one of the guards being a total jobs-worth,” Zach said.

  “Well, at least the kid’s won’t know any different,” Mia commented.

  “I know, that’s true. It’s all a bit sinister though really,” Sasha moaned. “Especially if the rumours about what’s going to happen out here are true.”

  Everyone drank.

  “Anyway,” Sasha continued, “do you think there’s any way you’ll be able to afford to move to a compound? I wish you guys were in there with us.”

  “You’re joking right.” Mia said. “The regulations, personality tests, and the costs on top of all that. There’s no way we’re getting in. No way in a million years.” Mia sipped her new glass of wine. She looked at Jack. “But we’re OK about it.” Jack nodded. “We’re OK for now. Jack’s got that job, so he’s an asset at the moment. I have a job too, even though it’s only zero hours, but we’re OK for the moment.”

  “Oh yeah… did The Company give you the latest vac? We had it, erm, last Thursday, was it?” Zach asked.

  “No, those fucking bastards,” Jack said, looking at Mia. “They could be releasing anything.”

  “You’ll get it. They need fit, healthy, strong people like you who can do all that tough manual work on the new compounds.”

  “You don’t think that they’re scaling down the operation do you?”

  “Not yet,” Zach said. “There’s still loads to complete, as far as I know.”

  “We’ll get the vac’s one way or another,” Mia said turning to Jack. “You can get ‘em on the black market usually anyway. Time to get to know the locals, I guess.” He winked at Mia.

  “Who knew, the dealers would be our saviours.” Zach laughed ironically.

  They all drank and stared mutely at the visuals on the tele. Mia shot Jack the strangest mischievous look. A mild panic rose within him.

  “Hey Zach, if you had no choice and needed money, say £500k, and you’re life depended on it, what would you do?”

  Ten

  Ashley was puked out of the train. He almost collapsed onto the platform, but staggered forwards and fell into a run. He pushed passed the countless mindless wanderers, straight to the exit. His hoodie was soaked. The smell of rot clung to him. His lungs were being crushed by the pressure of a hundred-thousand bodies. He was standing at the precipice, wondering if it was all worth it, again. Outside was no better. The stifling weather weighed down on him. Hot and muggy, there was no escape from the sun. The plan has to work. It has to.

  The gang usually started emerging from their dens mid-afternoon. The kings and queens of the underworld grouping together, selling fixes to the first suckers of the day. He stood straight, caught his breath, and wiped his head with the arm of his hoodie. It was so hot. His skin was starting to burn, again. He pulled down his cap ever further, and counted to ten, before swaggering towards his brothers, and the grim tower block he called home.

  As soon as he turned the corner, he was immediately halted by another colossal energy poster. He craned his neck upwards to observe it all. It was 100 feet tall if not more, and was decorating the side of one of the tower-blocks:

  Volunteers needed to keep the lights on. Will be rewarded with three square meals a day, a bed, and the latest vaccinations…

  Ashley put his hands on his hips and stared at it. Acid was rising in his throat. The anger was taking control of him. His balled his fists. The people in the advert always looked so happy, so healthy, so beautiful, so thrilled to be helping out. It was another hilarious joke. A few months back he had made the mistake of volunteering for The Company. The stupid fucking Company. He wished he hadn’t. He wished he could go back in time and stop himself from going. It opened his eyes to a whole new level of misery. The Company agents led him and all the other volunteers, more like victims, to a vast auditorium just outside one of the compounds. Inside there were thousands of people on machines that resembled exercise bikes which were hooked up to the mains power supply. It was harsh, constant; the riders were strapped to the bikes and were not allowed to get off them. There were no toilet breaks until the designated times. It was while he was in there, watching the sweating and slowly decaying bodies of all the people around him that he realised something about people: they were willing to put up with the deepest humiliation for nothing more than a warm meal. The Company were probably watching through the CCTV laughing their heads off at all the people defecating, fainting, arguing and spitting at each other. They probably recorded the plebs fighting after they finished their shifts. Fuck them, he was better than that. He was better than them. Never was he to be herded like cattle ever again. The thing that always struck him was the fact that there was never any lack of volunteers. Some of the people he’d met there had been doing the job for months. The promise of food and jabs always kept them coming back. The only good thing about it was the air-con. That was a compromise they’d made after the volunteers kept falling down dead, apparently.

  Ashley unclenched his fists, shook his head, refocussed on the burnt tarmac just ahead of him and began walking towards the gang’s usual haunt beneath the brutalist cement steps. He ignored all the tramps watching him walk by, waiting for any sign of weakness.

  “Gashley! You finally coming to kiss and make up then?” Dwayne called from the shadows.

  He emerged into the blazing sunlight waving like an idiot, like things were supposed to be this way. Ashley flashed Dwayne a broad smile and kept on swaggering towards him. Ashley grabbed Dwayne by the hand and shook it. Dwayne pulled him closer for a big man-hug. He was always the first, always ready to shake and make up, always in a good mood. How?

  “Where’ve you been hiding?” Preston asked cautiously, turning round from his seat on the wall in the shadows. He was eyeing Ashley up and down.

  “I’ve not been hiding, dickhead,” Ashley said, as he sat down on the wall beside Tasha.

  He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. She nestled into his arm, just as he knew she would. She was smoking. She blew out a cloud of smoke and turned to face Ashley.

  “You want some?” she said leaning back propping herself up with one arm.

  He took the joint out of her hand, winked at her, and put it to his mouth. He slowly and laboriously inhaled. Tash giggled and snuggled in closer to him. He breathed out a lungful of smoke, and immediately wished he hadn’t. It was strong. He passed the joint to the girl sitting on the other side of him. He fell into a paranoid state. He became acutely aware of the innumerable vermin all around him. It was all trying to get him, trying to make him ill, trying to kill him. There was nothing but bugs, diseases, infestations, hopelessness and desperation. The evil was growing and multiplying by the second. His eye became captured by a small pool of blood in the filthy corner. To him, it appeared to be an ocean. It was putrid and death, and it was flowing his way, a tidal wave ready, able and willing to drown him. The fear was taking over his mind, and body. He rubbed his face with his free hand. He tried to fight the demons. He tried to listen to the gang’s idle talk. He wished he was more like Dwayne, who had just taken an enormous drag and was now busy kissing one of the girls. He had her pushed up against the wall under the steps. All the tramps were watching. There were so many eyes on him, on them. Ashley rubbed his cheeks trying to ignore the panic. Why couldn’t he just do that with Tash? She would be willing, she was their groupie. She knew how to survive in this world. But, instead, he just stayed silent, afraid he might say something he would regret, fearful that the words he needed to say wouldn’t come out right.

  “You alright bruv?” Marc asked Ashley.

  He was cringing beneath Marc’s gaze. He looked up at him, sheepishly.

  “You want some,” Marc said offering Ashley their homemade cider.

  He
started tapping Ashley on the knee with the old plastic bottle.

  “Yeah, bruv, thanks.” He took the cider and swigged long and hard.

  It was strong, warm, and unregulated. He instantly felt better.

  “You got over your hissy fit last week yet?” Marc asked.

  He felt the rage building. He had to suppress it. He swigged more cider.

  “Shizz… Why the fuck not!” he said sarcastically and grinned up like a lap dog.

  “You better be,” Marc growled.

  “I am,” Ashley replied. “You know that right, bruv,” he added, trying to sound sincere, but not serious.

  He drank more cider, and then passed the bottle around. Everyone swigged. They were all laughing and joking. Marc was in a good mood. It was now or never.

  “Hey, Marc, I need to talk to you,” Ashley said, just as Marc was toking on the joint.

  He looked down at Ashley as he held the smoke in his lungs. Finally, he puffed the smoke into Ashley’s face. Ashley flapped the smoke away. The last thing he wanted was to get more stoned. Preston laughed. Ashley glared at him. Preston stopped laughing.

  “Sure Gash,” Marc said eventually, still staring fiercely at him. “What is it?”

  “I mean, I want to talk to just you, you know, like, er, in private?”

  Again Marc just stared at Ashley, narrowing his focus. Ashley scratched under the collar of his hoodie. He was heating up again. Someone handed Marc back the cider, he swigged but kept his eyes on Ashley.

  “You know there ain’t no such thing as private in this place, Gash.”

  “Yeah I know, but… I just want to talk to you though.”

  “Arsehole,” Elise muttered sarcastically, everyone sniggered.

  “Seriously El, you gonna get at me too,” Ashley said as calmly as he could.

  Elise just looked up at him and smirked. He grinned back. She was only playing.

  “OK den,” Marc sighed.

  Marc handed the cider to Elise, pointed to Ashley, then turned his hand over and curled his index finger, in and out, in and out. Marc began prowling leisurely around to the steps. Ashley followed a few paces behind. Any tramps that got in Marc’s way moved instantly at the very sight of his approaching figure. Marc demanded respect. He knew how to dominate all of those around him, without even trying, just a look, or a hand gesture sent chills along the junkie's tracks. Ashley watched all the losers dodge out of Marc’s way. He smirked at their pathetic weakness. He followed Marc, who was now swaggering up the concrete steps one at a time. He was in no hurry, unlike everyone else, who ran from place to place scurrying along the walls trying to remain in the shadows, scared of being seen. He followed Marc up to the centre of the dilapidated footbridge, up to where the gang, where Marc, does business. Marc stood and leaned over the balcony. He beckoned to Ashley to join him. They stood in silence looking down into the cement bad-lands of the Estate. Marc was watching the goings on below as if it were his kingdom, as if they were his subjects to do with whatever takes his fancy. Ashley held back a bitter laugh; he couldn’t believe Marc’s belief that they had control over this place. Control was an illusion.

 

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