The Ragdoll Sequence Box set

by J P Carver

The shouting started as I expected, words that no little kid should hear their parents shouting at each other echoed from the other room.

  I didn’t want to go see, but the voices were getting louder. Their words more viscous. I stood and felt ten times smaller as I moved to the kitchen. The dome light in the ceiling provided enough light to see a man with his arms up to protect his face from a shadowy woman as she threw things at him.

  “You lazy piece of shit—how could you lose that job? We needed it.” A mug shattered against the wall and showered the man with the shards.

  “I didn’t have much choice when you didn’t pick up Ragan from daycare like you said you would.” His voice was steady, but he wasn’t looking at her.

  The shadowy woman walked up to him and punched him in the side of the head. He staggered and dropped to the ground, holding his head. “Don’t twist this around. How we going to feed that whiny brat of yours? You don’t got money coming in which means we don’t have a thing.”

  “I’ll figure something out,” he said as she kicked at him. “It’ll be fine.”

  “The hell it will. You got two days or I’m taking—”

  I ran over to the man and knelt down beside him. There was a cut along his forehead and it bled down into his face. I grabbed a towel from the counter and placed it against his head before turning to face the shadowy woman.

  “Oh look, the little brat comes running when she wants to.”

  “Leave him alone.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do. He’s man, and he needs to act like it. This is between your dad and me, so butt your snotty little nose out. Go watch those stupid cartoons or something.”

  “No. If you want to leave then go, no one here will miss you.”

  She reached for me, grabbed my arm, and pain shot through it as she tossed me out of the way. My elbow locked painfully and with the momentum I went into the cabinet, busting the little wooden door there. As I fell, I knocked the side of my mouth against the knob and it felt like I cracked a tooth.

  The woman stared at me, her eyes holding no care about the injury she caused me. I wiped blood from my lip and tested my teeth with my tongue before holding that gaze of hers. I went to stand, but someone stepped between us and their shadow engulfed me.

  “Out.” The voice didn’t sound like it belonged to the man that had laid on the floor moments before. Everything about him changed, his stance, the surrounding air—gone was the calm voice of reason. What replaced it was cold anger, the kind I had only seen a few times in my life.

  “Don’t you—” she started, but the words caught in her throat as he took a step forward. She took a step back and came up against the edge of the doorway. “You touch me and I’ll call the police, they’ll—”

  He punched the wall beside her. The old plaster broke and cracked, crumbling under the impact and raining down on the linoleum. “Then call them,” he said, his voice on the brink of losing control. “Because if you think I’ll let you hurt my daughter ever again then you’re crazier than you look.”

  “She’s my daughter. Mine, you prick. She’s not even yours, you know that, don’t you?” The smug look on her face made my blood boil. It was a tactic she had used in the past against him, to hurt him however she could and I think to try to hurt me. “So, I’ll do as I want and you—” she stabbed his shoulder with a finger, “will stay out of it.”

  He looked down at her finger and then back at her, shrugging with a tiny laugh that barely left his throat. “You think it matters to me that she might not be mine? You think that fits into my love for her in any way? You’re pathetic.”

  She nearly screamed. “Me? Look at you, you lazy sack of shit. Can’t even keep a job. Can’t satisfy a woman. Don’t even got kids of your own and you want to talk about being pathetic?”

  “At least he cares about me,” I said as I stood and swayed as my jaw throbbed. I made my way over to stand beside the man, beside my father. He looked down, the anger fading to a look of concern and he reached for me. I shook my head to stop him before facing the shadowy woman. “I meant what I said, no one wants you here, you do nothing but… but bully us. You aren’t my mom, you never were.”

  She went to hit me, but dad was faster and clasped her wrist with his hand. He shoved her out of the kitchen and into the living room where he released her. “Get out.”

  “I won’t,” she sneered. “You can’t do anything to make me leave.”

  He looked at her for a moment, mumbled something to himself and went to the other side of the room. There was a digital picture that hung against the broken plastered wall. It rotated through a bunch of pictures of me, from when I was first born to school pictures. He took it off the wall, turned it around, and removed a small datachip from the back. “Fifteen hundred credits,” he said, holding it up and walking back to her.

  “What?”

  “I’ll give you this data chip that has fifteen hundred credits on it if you walk through that door and never come back.”

  “You lie, why would there be that much in there when we’re struggling to put fucking food on the table?”

  “We struggle because you can’t stop spending what little we have.” He motioned to the purse that laid on the table beside the door. I remembered when she came home with it and the fight they had after. “I was putting this away for the last six years so Ragan could go to some college or trade after she graduated, but fuck it. She’ll be a million times better off if it gets rid of you.”

  My mom looked at me and then my dad and finally at the data chip. She walked up to him, tore the chip from his hand and then slapped him hard enough to turn his head. “That’s for hiding money.” She looked down at the chip for a moment. “I’ll go. For now.”

  “No, forever.”

  She smirked and shook her head. “This is only gonna last me a month. If we get a divorce, I’ll fight for Ragan and I’ll win custody of her. You’ll never see her.”

  “What do you want?”

  The smirk grew. “An allowance every month, I’d get it anyway, but this way you get to keep your precious little Ragdoll. Five hundred credits a month.”

  “There’s no way—”

  “Oh… then I’ll be seeing you both real soon.”

  My dad sighed heavily. “Fine.”

  A giggle escaped my mom as she picked up her purse. “Good, was tired of this shit hole, anyway. I’ll send you a link where you can deposit my money.” She left with a slam of the door.

  My dad sunk heavily into the couch, not saying a word. I stayed in the kitchen's doorway, just watching. This had happened when I was seven or eight and it was the last time I had ever seen my mother.

  “Ragan?” he called tiredly as he dabbed his fingers to his forehead. I gave a tiny squeak of surprise. “Come here, Raggy.”

  I rushed around the couch and jumped onto him, my arms around his neck and I squeezed, wishing for him to never go away, even while knowing in the back of my mind that he was already dead. The scruff of his cheek scratched at my cheek as his arms went around me and hugged me so tightly that I felt my bones creak, but I didn’t care.

  “I’m sorry, Ragan. I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered in my ear and I shook my head in response.

  “N—no. You have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing.” I pulled back and wiped at my eyes. “You’re my dad. I don’t care what she said, I’m your kid, no doubt about it.”

  He grinned and placed his hands on either side of my jaw and turned my head. He was looking to see if I was hurt, but didn’t want to worry me. When he seemed satisfied that the damage was minimal he wiped tears from my cheek with his thumb. “No doubt here. You got cursed with my chin.” He flicked my chin gently. I laughed and rubbed at where he hit. “So, did you finish my assignment from last week?”

  I cocked my head at him. “What?”

  He flicked my chin again, and I swatted his shoulder. “Your programming assignment. You were supposed to be done today.”

  I shook my head sa
dly. “No, I meant to, but…”

  The smile just grew. “Okay, well, let’s get cleaned up and we’ll finish it together.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “Never been surer.”

  “What about—”

  He placed a finger to my lips. “No, we’ve talked about this before. You’re the kid and I’m the adult. The only thing you have to worry about is not failing your school work, finishing programming assignments, and being the most awesomest girl in the world.”

  “That’s not a word, dad.”

  “Look at you, Miss Lit. Major.” He lifted me up and put me standing on the floor and then stood. “Let’s get cleaned up. You want a grilled cheese for dinner?”

  “Tomatoes with it?”

  I saw the slight wince at the request that I had missed as a child. He didn’t deny it. “Sure, we can have tomatoes with it.”

  I followed him toward the bathroom and then the world went black as if it had been sucked down a drain. I ran toward the afterimage of my dad, but never could reach it. A sick feeling washed over me and I dropped to my knees where I started to dry heave.

  She’s gonna choke on her vomit!

  Marcus! Get over here and help me!

  Should she be having this reaction? It’s not because of the Zilae is it?

  I don’t think so, it’s only the withdraw. Merigold, tell Dr., Barvii we’re gonna need that liver.

  It’s failed or is it failing? She needs time to get something together with her lab.

  On its way. Dammit. We need to get this under control—we’ll need that liver here as soon as possible.

  Are you daff? You want to open her up here? You ain’t set up for that kind of surgery.

  I don’t see another choice, do you? Unless you think moving her when she’s like this is a good idea. I can get what I need, but Dr. Barvii should be the one to preform the transplant once the drug is out of her system.

  Ugh, fine. Just keep her alive until we get everything.

  Doing all we can. Marcus, change that IV bag —

  “You never told me what happened back then.” I turned with a start to find a small woman sitting on a wall of stone. It was Nina. The rest of the world filled in, a grass plain dotted with stacks of stone and a spiderweb of dirt paths. I’d never seen anything like it before, but there was something familiar about it. “This is your happy place.”

  I snorted.

  “Oh stop, even you have a place that makes you happy. Strange that it’s a world with no technology, though.” She swung her legs and looked to her right. I followed her gaze to see thunderheads pushing through the white clouds and throwing a dark shadow across the shivering grass.

  “Huh,” Nina said and hopped off the stone. “Guess it’s not that happy after all.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked as she walked along the path that weaved through the grass. I caught up and walked beside her. “It's obvious this all some drug fueled dream, but I don’t get why you would be here.”

  “Would you rather it be Marcus? Maybe that’s where your real happy place is.” She shoved me with her shoulder.

  “I’m slapping the real you when I get out of here.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair, I’m a figment of your imagination.” She shoved me again. “No hurting my real-life self, jerk.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I doubt I’ll get the chance, anyway. I’m dying, you know.”

  Nina shrugged as we crested a hill. "I don’t know. I do know that this drug you got shot up with is an asshole. Like, hung-over and looking for someone to beat on to make their headache go away, asshole."

  “So I might not be dying?” I said hopefully, and she shook her head. “Then this is a waste of time.”

  She feigned hurt. “Meanie. Besides, all you got is time now.”

  “And spending it walking down—” Thunder rumbled above. Lightening struck a stack of stones a few feet from us, the stone exploding in an ear shattering crack. Nina and I both dropped to the ground, hands over our ears.

  “Holy shit!” I shouted, and it sounded muffled to my own ears. Rain fell in heavy droplets that created mini-craters in the dust-like dirt of the path. “We can’t stay out here!”

  Nina just stared blankly at me, opening and closing her mouth. I grabbed her hand and pulled her along with me down the trail. It was just grass for as far as I could see until we traveled over another small hill. On the other side was a valley with a path leading down to a small wooden building. It looked almost like a cabin I had once seen in a picture of my dad and grandpa. A thin lake expanded out in front, running the entire length of the valley. Its water sparkled like glass in the fading light.

  We slid most of the way down the steep path and came to a stumbling stop before the front porch. I went to go for the door, but Nina pulled her hand free.

  “This is as far as I can go.”

  “What?”

  “This isn’t your happy place anymore and so I have no reason to be here. You have to keep going and just see what’s in there.”

  “Why?” Lightning struck on the hill, the sound not as loud, but just as surprising. “W—why can’t you stay with me?”

  “I’m always with you, you know that. Us against the world, remember? But you’re the one telling me I can’t come with you. This is all your subconscious, Raggy. You know I’m not really here.”

  I stared at her for a moment and then looked at the cabin. When I went to talk again, she had already disappeared. I cursed and stepped up onto the porch. I shook my wet hair and looked at the landscape as the rain continued to come down in sheets of lines.

  The door to the cabin squeaked when I pushed on it. Inside, dust motes danced in the fading grey light from the windows. A weak fire burned in the stone fireplace, mostly just embers. Someone was in the chair that faced the fire and they sat forward as I stepped in.

  “Close the damn door.”

  “Goddamnit, I knew I’d find you here,” I said and stalked over to stand in front of the chair. Ziller looked half asleep as his gaze turned to me. “I don’t want to see you.”

  “Obviously you do, since I’m here.” He sat up and groaned. He was much older, winkles folded into his dark skin all over his face. Speckles of grey and white appeared in his black hair. His nose flared as he let out a grunt once he settled back. “I’ve been here too damn long.”

  “Why?”

  “You tell me, you’re the one shutting me up in here like some kind of criminal.” He chewed his lip for a second and then cocked his head. “You really think I was wrong? Or, were you hiding away from everything and I cut a little too close?”

  “Fuck you.”

  He clicked his tongue. “Cut a little too close it is. Girl, you know I don’t say shit to hurt you. You think I don’t care you’re running a trail that’s gonna get yourself killed?”

  “Doesn’t seem like it sometimes. I saved everyone last time.”

  “And had to be saved, which put Plot and others in danger. Do you not care he almost died? His life could have ended in that game.”

  I punched him hard in the shoulder, but it hurt me more than him. I shook out my hand and glared at him. “Of course I care, which is why I did what I did.”

  “And they cared which is why they did what they did and almost paid for it.” He rose a shaking hand to pick up a glass of water. “Everyone else cared about you the same as you care about them, but for some reason you think you’re all that matters.”

  “That isn’t even close to true. I can stand whatever comes for me, but I won’t let them feel that pain when I can’t take it on.”

  He chuckled. “Merigold was right, you’re trying to be a goddamn martyr. You’ve got a few circuits fried, girl. Deep fried.” He took a sip of water and shifted in his chair. The fire popped loudly in the silence. “Is that why you went into that room alone and made everyone else come looking for you? That was a big risk they took running through Rentena.”

  “That wasn’t my f
ault,” I said and pointed at him while pacing. “I was only cracking into a server, there wasn’t any danger. How—how the hell was I supposed to know someone else would be there and drug me?”

  “Plotigan would have gone with you, no questions asked. You didn’t want him to because you didn’t want to worry he’d be captured.”

  “I was the one with the neural, I was the only one that needed to take the risk. It should have been easy and if he went, he would have been attacked instead.”

  A smile curved his thick lips. “And you couldn’t stand that. But, here’s the thing, girl: You know on some level that your friends would do whatever you asked them to, that they would follow you because they trust you. Plot would gladly get hurt if it meant that you lived.”

  “And I won’t let that happened.”

  “But you’ll let them worry? Let them work miracles on you while you fight to stay alive? Let them be in danger where you can’t help them?”

  “What do you want me to say, Ziller?”

  “I wanted you to close the damn door,” he said and looked around the chair. Rain blew in through the door I left open. “But like most things I ask of you, they don’t get done. I want you to stop trying to take all the bullets for the rest of us, to be here when we’re both old as goddamn dirt and we can reminisce about the stupid shit we did and our grand escapes. I want my Ragdoll around until I’m in the ground, which may be sooner than I want with all the shit you keep doing.”

  My smile came on its own. “Sorry.”

  “Is that all you’d say to your dad if he was here?”

  I froze in my pacing and looked at him. “What?”

  “You think he’d want his daughter getting herself almost killed all the time? That he’d be proud of the woman you’ve become?”

  “You bastard.”

  “I’m asking, not making statements. Do you think he’d be happy to know that you put yourself at risk or others?”

  “For my family, I think he would. He did the same for me.”

  “And that made you happy? Him coming home late night after working three jobs and collapsing onto the couch because he was too tired to make the twenty steps to his bed? Him dying?”