by Gregory Loui
“Crystal.”
His frown flipping upside down for a brief moment, the Dean chuckled, “Get out of here, Missy. Enjoy your youth. And try not to kill anyone on your way home.”
Not on her way home, Gore agreed. But after…
“I’m in,” growled Gore once she got home, marching into her apartment’s living room and throwing her backpack to the side. She found her brother sitting at the table with his feet on the table, whittling a wooden doll with his knife. A rather lewd doll.
“Wait what?” asked Bones, blinking at her through hazed eyes. “What are you talking about?
Gore recoiled at her brother’s stench. Jagd, how much Blight bug could one orc smoke?
But she ignored the reek as she slapped Bones’s feet off the table and snarled, “The races you mentioned. I want in. Now. The Magnum Orcus is ready whenever. I just need to tune some of the parts but we can even go tonight if you want.”
“Wait…” said Bones, still witting away with his knife. “I thought you said you didn’t want to do the Grand Prix.”
“Things have changed,” growled Gore as she paced around he table. She had ruminated on her situation the whole ride home. She had weighed her options and the only way of her making it through these next few months was through the Magnum Orcus.
Her brother smiled and stabbed the table, leaning forward as he said, “Then what are we waiting for? There’s race tonight at Roomenya.”
Alarms ringing in her skull, Gore blinked. Then she hissed, “Why’d you stab the table?”
“Oh… um, it felt like the right thing to do?” Bones wobbled.
He fell over.
“Ugh,” sighed Gore, shaking her head as her brother flopped about on the floor. “Just be ready. I’m gonna go down and prep the Magnum Orcus.”
Rubbing her hands together as she marched down to the Magnum Orcus, Gore tried to keep her hands from shaking. Whether excitement or fear ran through her veins, Gore didn’t know. But she did know one thing. Either way, she wouldn’t have to worry after the race.
If she won, she would have more money than she ever dreamed of.
And if she lost… well, there wouldn’t be enough of Gore left to worry.
CHAPTER NINE
Interlude
The Orc stumbled through the darkness and red lights of the Narrows, shaking his head, trying to keep the memories from dragging him back into the past. Not much success. His fumbling fingers tugged on his pockets and pulled out his pipe. He started stuffing Blight bug into the pipe.
Once he finished, the Orc pulled out his fire-glint and prepared to ignite the Blight bug.
But phantom eyes glared at him from within his mind, eyes of who he would disappoint if he took another breath.
His eyes flashing white, he faltered for the briefest of moments.
In that moment, images and noises flashed across the Orc’s conscious, transporting him back into the Ankadoran Mountains. Where wylder beasts and dark elves laughed. Blood and guts filled his mouth and nose, surrounding him on all sides. The world shook around the Orc as explosions ripped apart his brothers-in-arms. He clasped his hands over his ears, ducking a Shasta and its body-long claws. Then someone’s hand grabbed him and whipped his gaze around.
The Orc gasped.
A young girl stared at him before another explosion tossed him back into the real world.
Then the Orc sucked in the Blight bug.
The mind-numbing effects took hold at once, calming his nerves, slowing his heart as the Orc sighed, bouncing the back of his head against brick. He had found himself sitting against a wall. His eyes clouded over with grey smoke, concealing the sickening green in the pupils for a moment.
“Just a nightmare,” gasped the Orc as he clutched his chest, rising to his feet. “Just another nightmare.”
Even though he couldn’t sleep.
The Orc stumbled down the streets, blinking. He wasn’t in the Narrows anymore. Looking at the street signs, trying his damnedest to unscramble his brain, he scratched his head, causing bits of Blight bug to fall out. Where was he? And how far was he from his meeting point?
Better go for the train station. His mother always said to look go for public transportation when lost. Though she also told him not to scratch his armpits or he would lose his arms. So far, that hadn’t happened.
His eyes dove deep black.
So caught up was the Orc in his thoughts, he didn’t notice he bumped into a cop until he flew ass over head across the sidewalk. He smashed into a trashcan. Burnt wrappers and rotten spike fruits spilled over him. Deep into the haze of Blight bug, the Orc didn’t feel a thing.
“Sorry, officer,” muttered the Orc as he rubbed his head. His fingers brushed surgical scars beneath the thick black dreads.
As he tried to rise to his feet —though with as little effort as possible, the Orc glanced up to see the cop offering him a hand.
He took it and hopped onto his feet, stumbling back into the cop. His hands dipped into the cop’s pockets before he swayed against a brick wall. He mumbled, “Thank… officer… um, name?”
The cop coughed and looked away.
“That’s Officer Riles,” barked the cop, shaking his head as he readjusted his police vest. The Orc smiled at the goblin acid scars running across the werewolf’s left eye. “Pay some Leaf-damned attention when you’re walking, Greenskin.”
“Sorry,” slurred the Orc. His eyes fluttered. He tried to remember what he needed to do. Something about Momma G…
Then the cop sniffed, his eye narrowing as Officer Riles asked, “You got tickets? Let me see your tickets.”
“What? Why?” sputtered the Orc, feigning ignorance. Or at least, only partially feigning.
“Just let me see your tickets,” growled Officer Riles as his pistol snapped out of its holster and his claw pressed the Orc against the wall. The few bystanders on the streets looked away and hurried on their way. “Right now.”
“All right… all right…”
Reaching into his coat, ever so slowly, fingers brushing against his rifle for the briefest of moments, the Orc smiled and pulled out a packet of papers. Inside, a bunch of dollar leafs mixed in with the papers.
Letting his pistol fall into its holster, Officer Riles’s eyes blinked as he grabbed the packet. He stuffed the dollar leafs into his pocket. A lupine smile appeared as Officer Riles looked down at the papers left in his paws, murmuring, “Looks good. Very good… I don’t see a problem here. You can go.”
Officer Riles turned to go.
The Orc twitched and reached into his coat. His fingers tapped his rifle once more. Then the Orc sighed and forced a smile.
“Wait,” murmured the Orc before Officer Riles could make it far.
The cop raised a bushy eyebrow.
“I need to find someone,” said the Orc as behind his back, his hands fiddled with the keys he had pick-pocketed from the cop. “An orc. She lives nearby…”
CHAPTER TEN
Roomenya Drift
“Seems the venue’s abandoned,” muttered Gore as she drove the Magnum Orcus through the towering factories, half of which had been abandoned during the Slump. No lights except for one or two fires spilling into the sky.
Roomenya. One of many industrial districts of Tao Ein before the Slump had gutted the district. Once Roomenya had made the city a economic powerhouse. Then the big businesses started importing most of their goods from the Dwarven homelands and replacing workers with clockwork forges. Now, aside from a few struggling manufacturers, the district had fallen into disrepair, entire buildings crumbling and once proud iron forges rusted beyond recognition.
In other words, the perfect place for a race.
Turning off the Magnum Orcus’s broadcaster just before the weather shaman could report on the heat wave from the Blight, Gore grinned, fingering the wheel. Fire burned in her veins as a hunger-panted flame yawned within her stomach. Too long. It was too long since she last took the Magnum Orcus out for a ra
ce. Too long since she had looked death in the eye and spat in the cunt’s face.
Someone agreed with her soul. The Magnum Orcus rumbled, raring for the race to come. The ejection ports spat out embers. Gore had to resist flooring the gas pedal and roaring through the abandoned streets.
“Easy, girl,” said Gore, patting the steering wheel. She glanced through the barbed wire and industrial buildings. Ghosts wafted through the air in the swirling dust. Shadowed figures dashed over and under the factory grounds. Gore bit her lip. Then Gore turned her attention back to her brother, who sat on the back of the Magnum Orcus. “How much further?”
“What?” asked her brother through a haze of Blight bug. Climbing up to Gore’s position and leaning over the edge into the front window, Bones took his headphones off. “What did you say?”
Gore sighed, “Where are we supposed to go?”
“The race is gonna start at the beach. So go between the factories on the right,” said Bones as he sniffed the air. “Hm… this one’s gonna be bigger than I anticipated.”
“You anticipate?” asked Gore, rubbing her hands together.
“Sometimes… Blight,” cursed Bones, banging on the roof and pointing left. “Seems we got some Squirrels coming to race.”
Gore glanced to the side. A pack of motorcycles zipped through the factory grounds, leaving trails of light behind. Atop the motorcycles, clad in almost tribal armor and wielding carbon-fiber bows, elves whooped like wylder beasts as they leapt into the air. Contempt curled Gore’s lips as the Squirrels performed gravity-defying jumps and stunts.
One of the Squirrels caught sight of the Magnum Orcus and rode up alongside her, laughing, “Look what we got here… some juicy looking prey! Come on! Show me what you got!”
Cackling and throwing his head into the air, the Squirrel revved up his motor and zoomed up a ramp, flipping over the Magnum Orcus. Bright blue eyes locked with Gore’s. His laughter echoing behind him, the Squirrel disappeared into the night with the rest of his pack. Going with a classic, Gore gave him two raised fingers in response and mimed chopping them off.
“That’s gonna complicate things,” muttered Gore, itching to show off the Magnum Orcus’s full potential. The Squirrels’ flimsy bikes wouldn’t hold up too well against several tons of steel and over ten thousand gryphonpower. “But we can take them.”
“Sure… You upgraded the Magnum Orcus’s speed, right?”
The Magnum Orcus answered Bones’s question with a surge of power.
“Blight! Watch it!” cried Bones, clinging for dear life on the Magnum Orcus’s roof. Gore laughed. “How about we make it to the race before trying to kill me?”
“Yeah…” said Gore. She eased up on the accelerator, just enough to slip through an abandoned factory’s gate onto the beach. Then Gore blinked as another competitor emerged from the darkness. “Oh come on, why’re they here?”
“This is a Iron Breaker-sponsored event, last I checked. It’d be a damn shame if they didn’t show up,” said Bones before whistling. “Damn, I think they brought a Battle Ram with them this time.”
As the Magnum Orcus rumbled, hissing at the challenger, Gore pulled up alongside a massive fortress on wheels. A whole swarm of dwarves laughed at the Magnum Orcus from atop what a retrofitted garbage truck. Gore snarled back, though envy curled in her heart. Battlements and loose plates of metal covered the truck, fused in unnatural shapes before twisting up to the front in twin horns, transforming the truck into a beast straight from the legends.
With machine gun turrets.
“Hahaha! Come at us, bitches!” cried one of the dwarves, pointing a gun into the air and unleashing a gout of fire. “Come at us!”
Gore turned her attention back to the Magnum Orcus and spat, “Show offs. I hate Iron Breaker bitches… ”
The Magnum Orcus rumbled in agreement, speeding up to pull ahead of the Iron Breaker’s Battle Ram. The dwarves cried out and tried to speed up. But, even though the Magnum Orcus was still incomplete, the Magnum Orcus could outrun all but the fastest Z-7 cars. Gore laughed watching the dwarves eat her dust. Turning her gaze forward, breathing in deep to cool her anger, Gore sighed. The start line of the race waited for her.
A dozen trucks and cars surrounded a ruined tower, atop which blazed several floodlights. Dwarves, elves and orcs swarmed around the light, roaring and panting and howling like terror moths seeking the light. Gore snarled. So many gangsters and filth from the underbelly of society. All here for one thing. Violence.
No wonder her people could not join the light.
A tremor ran through Gore’s fingers. Excitement and fear, curling together, entwining as one, spurring her on. She sucked in the salted air, breathed in the primal instincts roaring through the night.
She had stood here before, at the edge of darkness. Stood as a racer, a rider on the wave of graves. She knew she could overcome any challenge before her.
And yet, Gore never could stop trembling.
“You ready?” asked Bones as Gore pulled up to the center of the crowd, almost plowing through a dozen people. The siblings laughed as the criminals howled. “Remember who you are. Just like riding a warhog. Trust in your instincts. Unleash the orc within…”
“Yeah. Yeah. Just remember to do your job,” growled Gore. She didn’t need his encouragement.
The Magnum Orcus stopped just shy of the ruined tower. All eyes turned on the two siblings as they exited the Magnum Orcus and stepped into the light. Whispers followed their every step up the rubble. Gore glanced to the side. She blinked. Bones had wrapped a sash around his shoulders. Emblazoned on the black cloth stood a green flower in flames and chains. Gore’s symbol.
She raised an eyebrow and hissed, “Wait, why are you carrying that sash? Showing off my symbol?”
“Our symbol,” Bones smirked, “It’s Momma G’s symbol now. And before you ask, she is related…” Bones glanced up the tower, where a trio of orcs blocked the two siblings’ path. “Just be quiet for now and let me do the talking. We gotta be diplomatic.”
“I can actually talk in complete sentences. Unlike you,” hissed Gore, though she shut her mouth and let Bones step forward.
Only for the orcs to pull out Karma revolvers and shove the hand cannons into Bones’s face.
“Well, well, well,” said the tallest orc, a black behemoth with scars crisscrossing his face. “What do we have here? Bones Tornfar. I thought you got nicked by the Fuzz a few months back. How’d you get out? And where’s my money?”
“All in good time, Asshole,” laughed Bones, patting the massive orc on the shoulders and nodding to the two behind him. “Butt-monkey, Taint. Good to see you bastards!”
Gore slapped her forehead and muttered, “Blight! Bones… What’d you say about being diplomatic?”
The three orcs glanced at each other then Asshole laughed, “Ha! Those are our actual names! Good ones too. Our ma fought the entire neighborhood so we could get em!”
Gore slapped her forehead again, scowling as she cursed, “Why d’ya guys have to be so jagding stereotypical?”
“And why d’ya have to be such a buzzkill,” smirked Bones before turning back to the orcs. Rubbing his hands together, he said, “You remember my little sis, right? Gore?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah!” sputtered the smallest orc. “Damn good driver she was. The Warboyz could use one like her. Now she’s all grown up!”
“We have eyes, Butt-monkey,” said Asshole, smacking the smallest orc on the head. He locked gaze with Gore, eyes flashing black for a moment before turning to Bones. “I assume you brought her for a reason… you wanna enter the drift, don’t you?”
“Pretty please?” asked Bones, charming as an pixie. “Come on, for old time’s sake?”
Crossing his arms and shaking his head, Asshole laughed, “If it were any other race, I’d be glad to let you in. But this time… there are certain stakes involved. Certain assets I can’t just give to a orc with no nation upon his back.”
“Hu
h. That was almost poetic,” muttered Gore.
She bit her tongue as Asshole glared at her, muscles clenching as if she had smacked him across the face. Then Asshole sighed and jerked a finger over his shoulder, drawing Gore’s attention for the first time to what lay within the tower. To a mountain of cages stacked atop one another.
And inside the cages, lay dozens of girls. Dwarves, halflings, orcs and a couple other races, all around Gore’s age, battered and bruised. Their eyes stared out at Gore through the darkness, barren and broken. A chill crept through Gore’s veins at the sight. She stumbled back, the others’ voices growing distant. She remembered the view from the other side of those bars.
She almost turned away from their suffering.
Then Gore cursed as she recognized one of the girls in the cages.
“Debbie?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ready?
“Debbie?” demanded Gore, her jaw dropping.
“Oh, hi, Gore!” chirped the dwarf, hopping to her feet. Gore almost laughed at the ray of sunshine. If Debbie knew what lay in store… “How’re you doing tonight?”
“Blight, how’d you get there?” asked Gore as she charged forward. Right into Butt-monkey’s warding arms. Without pausing for even a split second, she tossed the small orc to the side.
But before she could manage another step, the third orc of the trio, a medium sized orc pressed his hand cannon into her ear.
“Stop,” the orc said, somehow managing to make a single-syllable word sound melodic. Then he started to pull the trigger.
“Taint,” growled Asshole as he held back Bones. “Put your gun down.”
The orc said nothing as he followed Asshole’s instructions.
Glaring at Asshole, Gore snarled, “Where are they going?”