“He never wanted to lie to you.” Silver sighs, her face apologetic.
“I know. Believe me, it was the first thing we talked about when he offered me a place in the Division.”
“You cleared the air?”
“We had to. We’re united by a common interest.” Alex runs his eyes over Silver’s frame. “What’ve you lost in the last three months? Ten pounds? More?”
“I can fend for myself.” Defensive.
“You could, when you had a bounty and enforcement income to rely on. Without that, you’re just like all the other Fringer rats, scrounging around in the dregs of society for scraps of food.”
Silver would smack him, but she doesn’t have the energy.
“Here”—he opens up the hold-all—“I brought you some things.” He unloads some food and a few boxes of ammunition for her HK USP. Looking down at her holster, he realizes the weapon she’s carrying isn’t her own silver-plated, custom piece. “Where’s your gun?”
“Maydevine has it.”
“He took your gun?”
“I gave it to him. After he suggested that I shoot myself with it, instead of waiting for an Enforcer to do the honors.”
Silver butchers the truth and Alex knows it. In silence, he watches her scarf down a few slices of deli meat.
“He launched an appeal to overturn your conviction, you know.”
Silver pretends to be disinterested. “I won’t hold my breath.”
“Phaeden Rist is dead, and the vendetta against you died with him. The election of a new Governor promises to be a fresh start for all of us.” Alex reaches out to her, placing a hand on her clammy foot. “This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
Silence.
Taking a chance, he leans in to kiss her. His hand against her cheek, he can already feel the physical difference in her. Her facial structure is leaner and more pronounced.
Reciprocation is his reward for the instigation of a lip-lock, and he pushes the food aside, encouraging her to lie back against the bed. Others not so familiar with her form may find nothing of concern in her slender appearance, but to Alex, the change in her is quite distinct—and troubling.
Just like the first time, in this very room, Silver forgets where she is. She becomes lost in his touch, and the unappealing scenery around them fades into an unimportant blur of gruesomeness as she welcomes him closer.
CHAPTER THREE
Kink Central: Act Two
Three Weeks Later
Silver and Alex’s post-coital caress is jaded by the stench of mold and the topic of their conversation.
“Have you heard anything?” Silver enquires.
“About your appeal? No.”
“Has Maydevine even mentioned it?”
Alex lights up his umpteenth cigarette of the day. “He hasn’t forgotten about you, Silver. How could he?”
“But—”
“An appeal of this nature is unheard of,” Alex cuts her off. “I’m not sure that the new Governor knows exactly how to proceed.”
Silence.
Silver closes her eyes, listening to the comforting sound of Alex’s heart beating beneath her. Moments later, she’s distracted by the gentle brush of his hand against her shoulder. Taking his hand in hers, she runs her fingers over a deep scar on his wrist, still pink and healing from the insertion of a platinum tag.
“How did you get back in?”
“The city’s in hell.” Alex puffs on the cigarette. “Since the truth about the Fusion colonization of the Out District erupted, the Hunter Division’s been in turmoil. Without a new Hunter General at the helm, Hunter Division recruits have been dropping out left right and center. They’re terrified, and thanks to that, the Police Division’s being raided for the strongest and the most highly skilled. In return, they’re begging for new recruits just to keep the streets in order.”
“And then what? After the Hunter Division’s done rallying their troops? Another assault on the Out District?”
Alex lets the ash from his cigarette fall onto the dirty floor. “The Third Reclamation needs to move ahead. There’s no way to stop it. The expansion of the city is a necessary burden that would face any Governor, whether they share Phaeden Rist’s views or not.”
“And the only way to achieve that is through brute force?”
“Whatever the approach, necessity demands that the result be the same. The Fusions must give up their land for human development, and I doubt they’ll give it up willingly.” Alex puts out the cigarette and rolls onto his side, leaning in toward Silver. “Just because the Hunter Division is being primed, it doesn’t mean they’ll be activated against the Out District.
“Right now, they have their hands full just culling the Chimera packs that have started nesting near the city walls. And no further orders can be issued on the Out District until after the new Governor’s inauguration and the election of a new Hunter General.”
“And you?”
“Me?”
“You’re happy? Or something like it?”
He breaks into a smile, kissing the top of her head. “Only when I’m with you.”
“And what about the virus?” she ventures.
Alex nonchalantly brushes away her concern. “The CV2 outbreak? What about it?”
“What precautions is Omega taking?”
“I’m not involved.”
“But you have to be concerned.” She faces him. “If the Hunters are going outside the city walls, they could bring the virus back in with them.”
“Less than twenty percent of all Hunter Division kills are testing positive for the virus, and at least now they’re aware of it as a viable threat. They’re being careful, Silver.”
“Twenty percent? The odds are worsening.” Cogs whir inside her brain. “Why hasn’t a ban on the importation of Chimera for the Fringe District pit fights been executed yet?”
“No cases of human infection have been documented, so the threat level is considered low. We don’t even know if the virus is transmissible to humans.”
“Do you really want to wait around to find out?”
“It’s got nothing to do with me, Silver.” Alex fails to hide his irritation. “Omega’s already working on a vaccine, just in case.”
Silver is irked by Alex’s apparent lack of concern. “Do me a favor: when you go back there tonight, refer them to the history books. Tell them to look up ‘apocalypse’ and ask them if they’ve learnt anything at all about the consequences of underestimating a viral threat.”
Frustrated with the direction of the conversation, she gets out of bed and puts on her clothes.
“What’s the matter?” Alex sits up, watching her holster her hunting knife.
“I have to go.” Stone cold.
She crosses the room to a battered dresser and retrieves her gun—albeit a generic substitute for the original. Next to her gun are Alex’s badge, Omega issue handgun, and holster. She picks up his badge and looks at it, quickly realizing that, despite her reservations about the virus, she’s happy he’s been recruited. A soldier needs to work, otherwise he’d go insane.
On the bedside table, Alex’s pager starts to beep and vibrate. He checks it and gets out of bed, pulling on his pants.
“Maydevine?” Silver enquires.
Alex nods. “There’s no such thing as an off-duty Agent anymore.” He pulls on his shirt, covering a nasty looking scar on his left side. Walking over to the dresser, he retrieves his weapon and steals his badge back from her. “Will I see you tomorrow?” he hopes.
Silver avoids making eye contact. “I have a … business meeting.”
“I won’t ask.”
“Friday?” she offers.
Alex bends down and kisses her on the lips. “Friday.”
He turns to leave, but Silver calls him back.
“When you see Maydevine …”
Alex nods. “I’ll ask him.”
He leaves.
Silver hesitates for a moment, then slips out throu
gh the window and down the fire escape stairwell.
*************************
One Week Later
Two cigarette butts smolder in an ashtray on the bedside table. Alex rolls off Silver and makes himself comfortable next to her in the bed, immediately reaching for another cigarette.
Silver shuffles over and snuggles into him. “The nights aren’t enough.”
“Any more and you might kill me.” Alex smiles.
She cracks a brief reciprocal smile, but the next thought that leaps into her mind dissolves it before it has a chance to solidify. “I mean, it’s been four months since I’ve been back here in the Fringe. In all this time, Maydevine’s said nothing?”
“They’re still working on an appeal date.” Alex lights up the cigarette. “Maydevine’s pushing the new Governor for a full acquittal.”
“On what grounds?”
“That your confession was coerced, and that your first conviction for treason was based upon a bunch of unsubstantiated bullshit—which Phaeden admitted just before his death.”
A monumental sigh from Silver tunes Alex in to her frustration.
“It’s nobody’s fault, El. Things are going to be stalled until the Governor’s formal inauguration. You already know that. Until the Governor’s sworn into office, no executive decisions can be made. That’s the law.”
Suddenly remembering something, Alex checks his watch on the bedside table and gets out of bed, scrambling for his clothes.
“What’s the matter?” Silver looks confused. “I didn’t hear your pager.”
Alex shakes his head, talking with the cigarette pinched between his lips while he dresses. “I have a social engagement tonight.”
“A social engagement?” Silver’s voice is etched with suspicion. “With whom?”
“Some guys from work.”
It’s past midnight, and his nonchalance does little to calm her mistrust, which she continues to do battle with inside herself as she watches him tie his shoes.
“To do what?” she speaks at last, feeling altogether too needy for her own good.
Turning to her, he leans across the bed and plants a brief, unfeeling kiss on her lips. “Poker.”
“Poker? Really?”
Reluctantly, Silver gets up and pulls on her shirt, leaning casually against the dresser while Alex holsters his gun and checks his hair in the broken mirror.
Silver’s eyebrow rises upward. “Do the guys from work often care about your appearance?”
He considers his next words carefully. Not that he fears her, but just that he’s not really in the mood for a slap across the face or a punch in the balls.
“It’s been almost twenty years, Silver. Do you really think I’m going to start messing about on you now?”
“Well, who plays poker at one o’clock in the morning?”
“Me, apparently.”
He moves in front of her, parts her legs and lifts her up onto the dresser, kissing her. She wraps her legs around him and holds him against her, silently hoping that the invitation of a rematch will be enough to convince him to stay.
He breaks the kiss, just for a moment. “Since the first night we ever spent together, there’s never been anyone but you.” He kisses her again, gently unwrapping her legs from around his waist. “I have to go.”
“Don’t.”
As soon as the word escapes her lips, Silver winces at the sound of her own voice, internally chiding herself for the sound of self-pity that she allowed to leak out.
Perhaps Alex didn’t hear it.
He grabs his jacket up off the floor and leaves anyway. “I’ll see you soon,” he calls over his shoulder as the door shuts behind him.
Silver turns away, hiding the tears that beg to escape from her eyes as the door clicks shut. Alone in the room, she feels used. She slides off the dresser, puts on the rest of her clothes, and grabs the hold-all of supplies Alex brought for her.
Jades get money for sex.
She gets sandwiches and bottled water.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kink Central: The Finale
The very next night, intent on making her displeasure known, Silver sits at home while Alex waits alone in the whorehouse bedroom. Serves him right, she tells herself, fighting the magnetic urge to run to him.
The night after that, an ever hopeful Alex sits on the room’s bed, reading a comic book and checking his watch every five minutes. As time passes, he falls asleep with the comic book resting on his chest.
Until …
Hours later, he’s woken abruptly when the door to the room crashes open and Silver falls through it. She’s covered in blood, barely able to move. Alex leaps to his feet and helps her up off the floor, lifting her onto the bed.
“Fuck … Silver …”
Ripping open her shirt, he tries to find the source of the bleeding, their dog tags around her neck barely visible beneath the gushing of her blood. Exposing her wet skin, he reveals deep gashes across her stomach and her left side, and carefully extracts a Chimera talon that’s protruding from one of the wounds.
“Shit …”
Tossing the talon to one side, he tries, with little success, to stop the bleeding.
Silver passes out.
“Silver?” He taps the side of her face gently. “Silver??” He taps a little harder, shaking her a little, but fails to revive her. “Fuck me …”
Looking around the room for help, nothing catches his eye except his cell phone on the bedside table. Grabbing it with sticky fingers, trying hard to control a shaky hand, he struggles to dial a number.
Forever seems to pass while he waits for the line to connect.
“Fuck, I’m so glad you picked up.”
He pauses for a response.
“Yeah, I know it’s the middle of the night. You think I’d be calling you at this hour if it wasn’t a goddamn emergency?”
Another pause.
“I’m at Kink Central, and you’ve gotta help me. She’s bleeding all over the place and I don’t know what the hell to do.”
A outraged pause.
“Of course not. What kind of dirty prick do you think I am? It’s Silver.”
A looooong pause.
“Are you still there?”
A short pause.
“No, she needs a doctor.”
Pause.
“Okay. I’ll be right there.”
After receiving instructions, he hangs up the phone. Before scooping her limp body up from the bed, he removes the dog tags from around her neck and quickly shoves them into his pocket.
*************************
On the Fringe District side of the One Way, at breaking point, in the backseat of his beat up Old World car, Alex struggles to keep Silver alive.
He’s restarted her heart twice, and he’s pretty sure he cracked one of her ribs when he was giving her chest compressions the second time around. He felt it snap inside her chest, and he’s lucky it didn’t collapse one of her lungs.
This is the only circumstance in the world that could ever make the experience of ripping her shirt open and pressing his lips against hers an unenjoyable one.
She’s breathing now, but she’s still unconscious. Counting down the seconds until Maydevine’s arrival, he breathes a sigh of relief at the welcome sight of his fraught boss.
“Geez, where the fuck were you? China?”
Maydevine shrugs off his coat and tosses it over the hood of the car, holding something small in his hand. “Beggars can’t be choosers, son.” He waves a bloodstained hand at Alex, ushering him out of the way. “Move.”
Alex obliges as Maydevine reaches into the car and bends down over Silver, unfolding a small zip-lock bag from the tight clutch of his hand.
A blue tag.
Covered in blood.
“Where the—” Alex starts.
“Don’t ask,” Maydevine cuts him off.
Maydevine reaches over Silver, takes her left wrist, and slices it open with a pocketknif
e.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Alex fears.
“Barely.”
Maydevine fumbles around in her wrist, locates her black tag, and digs it out with the tip of the blade. He fumbles some more to replace the tag with the dirty blue one from the bag. Without the equipment to sew her up, he takes off his tie and wraps it tightly around her wrist to stem the bleeding.
He motions to Alex. “Pass me the thing in my jacket pocket.”
Alex delves through various pockets until he finds a portable tag reader, and hands it over. Maydevine then scans Silver’s wrist to make sure the tag reads okay.
“From now on, if anyone asks, her name’s Jennifer McAllister. You understand?”
Alex nods, lost for words. Frighteningly calm, Maydevine gets out of the car and picks up his jacket.
“Meet me at Western Point Hospital. I know people there. And you’d better get her across the line quick.” Maydevine points down at the painted yellow line marking the great divide between the Sentinel District and the Fringe District. “In thirty seconds, her tag will breach and …” He looks up at the machine guns atop the tag Gateway. “Well, just hurry.”
Neither of them wants to play chicken with Silver’s life, so they both hightail it out of there. When a blue tag crosses breaking point, the Gateway’s security system is programmed to allow thirty seconds for the breach to be corrected, before gunning down the trespasser—and that’s thirty seconds longer than a black tag gets.
Sentinel District kids play chicken with the Gateway all the time, and the Police Division has no tolerance for it. Last year, a kid was gunned down when he tripped on a pothole Fringe District side and couldn’t get back up in time.
Trying not to think of all the horror that’s happened here, Alex speeds after Maydevine. Not that he needs directions. This isn’t the first time Silver’s blood has been soaked into his upholstery.
*************************
At Western Point Hospital, Alex carries Silver’s unconscious body into the emergency room. Led by Maydevine, who flashes his badge at the nurses on duty, Alex bypasses the triage room and moves straight into an empty trauma room. He lays her down on the bed, her body now in the throes of a pre-corpse fade, while Maydevine seeks out an experienced doctor.
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