by R. D. Hale
'Sure, I have a book to read, again. To be honest, I'll probably just rest, stare at the ceiling, sleep if I can,' Cali says.
'Now you're making me feel bad,' I say.
'I've been alone like this for days. A few hours will make no difference. It's been nice to have visitors. It's the last thing I was expecting,' Cali says and I smile sympathetically.
Standing, I place three tins of food on the coffee table, then we haul our rucksacks over our shoulders. We leave Cali's apartment, hurry down the concrete stairs, and sneak into the street which is still empty, desolate. A crazy could emerge from any apartment building so we do not stop to admire the scenery. We rush around to the fire escape where Kezan is smoking a cigarette, having waited at least two hours. He lowers the ladder, and as the others climb, I lay my rucksack on the ground and run from the alley.
Cali said right, left, right, I believe, so I jog through the housing blocks, coming to a long, straight road which must be the one she described. It too is completely empty and vanishes into a red haze. Perhaps there are fewer crazies lurking than I had feared, but I must assume nothing. Shit, why am I even doing this?
A person with an apartment could be a useful ally, but we could easily move into an empty apartment. I guess the truth is I cannot leave a fellow female in trouble. Slum life was hard enough, even before the war started, and one thing I learned is we must have each other's backs. Strange men must always be presumed foes, but strange women should strive to be allies.
Footsteps are hurrying behind me so I spin around with my finger ready to squeeze the trigger. 'You're not a crazy,' I say as Bex stops before me, raising her hands slightly. Beyond her stands the shard which is visible over the top of a small-ish apartment building – a colossal, intrusive spike sitting at an angle, seemingly unsupported because our refuge is not visible. It appears to have risen from the depths of hell, but it turns out hell is not located below the ground.
'Thanks, I think,' Bex says as I lower my weapon.
'What are you doing here?' I say.
'Did you really think I was gonna let you do this by yourself?' Bex says.
'Where are the boys?' I scan the area, not even hearing footsteps.
'Guarding our supplies.' Bex smirks.
'So courageous of them.' I shake my head, and we hurry along the road, stepping onto a pavement as a motorcar cruises past – a regular car driven by an ordinary civilian. I guess we are not the only ones forced to take risks now.
As we pass unscathed but decrepit tower blocks, the quiet area seems ever stranger, precisely because of the lack of strangeness. It almost seems like Howdon wants to return to 'normality', draw civilians into the open, but more like dark forces are lulling us into a false sense of security. I doubt this nightmare will ever seem real.
The decrepit towers give way to three-storey terraces containing rows of shops with their shutters down. Most apartments above the shops have their curtains drawn, but I notice movement in one set of curtains as though someone was peering, then hid. I understand the temptation to look, even though they could become the target of a bored pot-shot.
Surprisingly, one shop has its shutters up and a person is sitting behind the desk, but the door is closed. A handwritten sign says: If u want sumthing nock and wait hear. Do not try to enter. Looters and crazy peopel will be shot! I cannot imagine this guy has had many customers.
The sign above the door reads Newsagents, but a handwritten sign in the window reads: We have fazers, body armer, face masks, gas masks, antiseptick creme, anti-byoticks… The list goes on, and I cannot even read some of the words, but certainly none read insulin.
The store keeper glares suspiciously so we continue along the road, passed by another motorcar as I check the signs above every shuttered building, looking for the words Chemists or Pharmacy. All the while I am checking intersecting roads for crazies, reacting to every piece of litter blowing in the wind, giving every doorway a wide berth.
At a crossroads, I spin my phaser towards two men wearing face-masks, and they immediately stop on the pavement, raising their gloved hands. 'Are you crazies or normal people?' I call from the street corner. Adrenaline makes my arm tremble because the pair are just fifteen yards away and big. Well, bigger than two petite girls, anyways.
'Whoa, we're perfectly normal, don't shoot!' one of them says; his white mask twitching, and probably doing nothing to prevent infection. The pair are presumably seeking supplies, but old town is even less civilised than usual, and strange men are a threat at the best of times. I cannot help visualising the rapists who foolishly attacked Dynah, so these guys are not getting within lunging distance.
'You seem okay, but I'm not taking any chances. Stand here until we're farther down the street. If you come too close, I'll shoot, okay?' I say.
'Um, maybe ease off them, Em. If they were crazies, you know they'd already have attacked,' Bex says as though crazies are the only possible threat.
'That's ri–'
'Shut up! I don't know enough to be certain about anything, right now. It's nothing personal. Just keep your distance!' I say, pointing my phaser backwards as we cross the intersecting road. We continue along the high street, and I glance over my shoulder to confirm the men are indeed keeping their distance as they turn the corner. Smart.
Shifting my gaze for hundreds of yards, I finally identify a sign which reads Robynsen Pharmacy, and as expected the shutters are down. The risk of burglary makes my stomach churn, tempting me to turn back, but a woman's life is depending on the medicine. Fuck, this situation is intense.
'We're not getting in from the front. We'll have to go around the back and keep count of the buildings, otherwise we'll break into the wrong one,' I say, unsure the rear entrance will be accessible, but we must at least check.
We pass four buildings, near the mall Cali mentioned, and we turn a corner, heading down cobblestones in a backstreet. I thrust my phaser towards an alley cat which meows and I realise I am overreacting. We come to a tall wooden gate between taller brick walls, and I try the handle as the cat runs away. 'Shit, it's locked. You'll have to give me a bunk. I'll unlock it from the other side.'
'Wow, you're really not the same Emmi, are you?' Bex gets onto her hands and knees, and I stand on her back. 'Ouch! Have you gained weight?'
'Hey!' I grab the top of the gate. 'Can you stand up now?'
Bex stands and I shift my feet onto her shoulders, then place a leg over the top of the gate and climb over, dropping into the yard. The feat was nowhere near as difficult as expected. The gate is bolted shut and a chunky padlock means I have zero chance of opening it.
The inside of the gate has planks poking out an inch so I climb onto the middle one and peer over the top. 'It's no good, there's a padlock. You'll have to find a brick or something so I can smash the window. Here's my phaser, you might need it.' I pass my phaser over the gate, then climb down as I wait for Bex to return. I face the rear of the building which has shutters, but they are rolled up for some reason. Maybe the owners left in a hurry. How convenient.
A few minutes of nervy silence later, Bex whispers, 'Hey, I've got something,' so I climb the gate and peek over as she holds a metal pipe which looks gross.
I stretch to grab the slimy L-shaped pipe, grimacing, and say, 'This is gonna make noise, especially if there's an alarm. It could attract crazies so get ready and remember your training.'
Dropping into the yard, I approach the side of the window, turning away and closing my eyes as I whack it with the pipe. I withdraw my hand the instant I hear glass shattering, relieved to hear no ringing. Shards are still poking from the frame so I smash them, one-by-one, and scrape away the remains. I lay the slimy pipe on the ground, wipe my hand on my pants, then jump inside, landing with a crunch.
A doorway leads from a tiny backroom into the main storeroom where I nervously check shelves in the darkness. The light is only coming from one direction – behind – meaning the contents of some shelves are close to invisible.
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First I check every box I can clearly see, which is probably a quarter of the medicine stock. Then I check the boxes hidden in the shadows, taking possible candidates into the light, and tossing them onto the floor.
Thousands of products fill the shelves, and the duration of my search means Bex could be vulnerable. Hopefully, she has found a hiding place because I would prefer she did not depend on the phaser.
Scanning a mid-height shelf, I find a box labelled Aelixyr which I slot into my coat pocket, and I enter the front section of the shop. I feel under a counter I can barely see, pulling a carrier bag from a ream.
Returning to the Aelixyr proves harder than expected because all I can see is a blur of grey boxes on the mid-height shelves. When I find the product for a second time, I fill the bag with the entire stock – about twenty five boxes in total. Then I find some antiseptic cream and bandages for Kezan's wound.
As I turn to leave, I hear a gentle sobbing and my body turns rigid. The sound is close by, yet there has been no indication of another person in the building. Nothing. My first instinct is to run, but this person could be in trouble, and they sound so feeble, so pitiful, I must take the risk. I search through the darkness, entering a corridor and feeling my way along the wall. The sobbing is growing louder. My fingers meet a handle and someone is clearly on the other side of the door.
Stepping back, I force out the word, 'Hello,' and the sobbing grows louder still. A child, perhaps? A girl? I take a deep breath, reach for the handle with my arm at full stretch, and turn the handle down. The sobbing becomes a brief but gentle shriek, then a whimpering. 'Hello.' No response. I push the door fully open. Pitch blackness. A squeal. I shake uncontrollably. 'It-it's okay… Ouch!'
Hands grab me, slam me against the wall, and I shove my attacker who seems small and lightweight. In the struggle, I break free and fall in the direction of the doorway, hitting my head on something hard, maybe a toilet. My attacker falls completely silent. I cannot see her, but she must be ahead of me, and there is one way out.
Why did I leave the pipe?
Rushing forwards, I use my forearms as a shield, but I am grabbed again. I shove my invisible foe until she loses grip, and then I trip over her. I scramble on my knees, then onto my feet, and rush through the vague doorway. I reach the storage room without my carrier bag, hearing footsteps in pursuit.
'Get off me!' I yell as a hand grabs my ankle and I fall against a shelving unit. Boxes tumble over me, spilling onto the floor. I turn back to see a petite woman in a white uniform with a boil on her forehead. She pulls herself close, opens her mouth wide, and thrusts her face towards my calf. I kick her in the jaw with my free foot, rise to my feet, and scramble towards the doorway.
I am grabbed again, slammed into another shelving unit which does not budge, but more boxes spill, and some are crushed underfoot. I turn and grab my attacker's shoulders; my arms straining as she tries to bite me. Her facial expression is so animalistic. The skin around her eyes is red, wet. Her nose is scrunched, lips curled, teeth inching towards my neck.
A beam of golden light streaks past my face, meeting her eyeball, and she collapses, squirming. Another beam of light hits her chest and she stops moving. I turn to see Bex in the doorway, pointing my phaser at the woman.
'I dropped the bag. I need to find it.' I stand up straight, shaken but not badly hurt, and I approach the corridor I just fled. 'Watch her, make sure she doesn't wake up.'
'Don't worry, she's not going anywhere,' Bex says as I leave the storage room and get on my knees.
Feeling the cold floor in pitch darkness, I carefully gather spilt boxes, then I locate and refill the carrier bag. Standing, I leave the corridor with the medical supplies, and return to Bex in the storage room. I gaze at my unflinching rescuer, trying not to look overly impressed because her ego is big enough already.
'How did you get in here?' I say.
'Climbed over the gate.' Bex shrugs as she stands over the unconscious woman, watching for signs of movement, ready to fire if necessary. The line between cautiousness and hostility is a fine one, and I am struggling to find the balance. Part of me feels stupid for rushing to help a crazy, but the other part knows I could not have acted differently.
'Without anyone to give you a bunk?' I pass the fallen shelving unit, and sneak through the spilt drugs, careful not to stand on anything. We will not be the last people to raid this place for life-saving supplies.
'What do I look like, a girl?' Bex says.
'Hey, that's very sexist!' I shake my head, then smirk at the armed tomboy sneering in the door-light. 'Then again, you certainly don't look like a girl…'
Bex frowns, suddenly looking offended by the fact I have agreed with her. Go figure. I kneel over the woman – the crazy – and now she is sleeping, she looks so normal, so harmless. She is still breathing and her jaw does not appear to be broken, which is a relief. I almost feel bad for kicking her, for Bex shooting her, and I cannot imagine she will last long if we leave her alone, but that is what we must do. It will take all of our energy to help ourselves and our non-crazy friends. We cannot help her kind.
We leave the storage room and climb through the broken window into the back yard; our feet crunching over the glass. I lay the bag of medical supplies on the ground, then climb on top of the gate. 'Pass it up to me.' Bex hands me the bag and I drop into the alley, then she joins me on the cobbles. 'Okay, I'll have my phaser back now.'
'Can I not keep it until we get back? I wanna shoot some more crazies,' Bex says.
'Wow, you're really enjoying this, aren't you?' I say.
'Sure am.' Bex laughs, pointing the phaser down the cobblestone alley and closing one eye like a sharpshooter. The rebel soldier image definitely suits her.
'Okay, but for the love of the Goddess, make sure they're actual crazies before you shoot. You can't go shooting ordinary boys because you don't like the look of them,' I say.
'Funny, I seem to remember you threatening to do exactly that on the way here,' Bex says and I almost laugh, casually swinging the carrier bag.
Suddenly, our earlier fears seem melodramatic because the crazies are no threat when we are armed. The shock of the attack is quickly fading, and the area seems quiet so we should be fine, if we keep our eyes open.
Leaving the alley, we approach a crossroads and nonchalantly turn onto the high street, stopping in our tracks. A group of soldiers and mechanoids are standing not too far away, and their firepower could take us out in an instant. Shit, I need to stop tempting fate like this.
I gawp at the squadron of about fifteen men as one of them issues instructions to the others. The two mechanoids at their flanks are about eight-foot-tall, painted black and green, and have two long arms with hands which can fold away, transforming into weapons. They are even bigger and scarier than Ivor, and were clearly not impeded by the EMPs. I guess the Rebellion will have to resort to plan B, whatever that may be.
'Hey, ladies, don't you worry now,' the commander says. 'We're not going to hurt you, just run along home, okay? It's dangerous out here. We could be fighting at any moment.'
We walk past the soldiers, sticking to the inside of the pavement, almost hugging the walls and shutters. Suddenly, the phaser in Bex's hand seems like a child's toy, and I shakily grip the neck of the carrier bag to avoid spilling the contents. The men talk among themselves, clearly not interested in us, but I cannot avert my eyes, even when we have passed.
The road seems even longer on the way back and I dwell upon the inconsistency of the soldiers' behaviour. Some seem to live up to the honourable image San Teria would like to portray, while others are every bit as corrupt as feared. And it seems so irrational to draw lines based on nationality rather than nobility. Sad to think good guys often kill good guys while siding with bad guys.
After a brisk, nervy walk, I identify the shard rising above a rooftop, and then I hear loud crackling in the direction we just came from. Those soldiers must be in a gunfight and we could so easil
y have been caught in the crossfire. The margin was just minutes, and yet close encounters can make you underestimate danger, like if you handle one situation, you can handle them all. I must be wary of developing a heroine complex, but I fully intend to revel in our moment of glory. We have earned a heroine's welcome.
We zigzag through the blocks and into the damaged building, then upstairs to Cali's apartment. I proudly knock on the door to be greeted by the distrusting eyeball again. I thought we were past this stage, given that we risked our lives and everything. I hold up the carrier bag and remove a box of Aelixyr, then Cali closes the door, and re-opens it unchained.
Cali cannot even force a smile as she allows us inside her apartment, but maybe the heroine's welcome will come with sampling of the product.
We enter the living room, sit on the grey sofas, and I hand Cali the box which was inside my pocket. She removes a thick pen with a needle in the end, then injects the insulin into her forearm and sighs. She becomes almost catatonic as she waits to be recharged by the medicine. I approach the sink and rinse my hands with freezing, unfiltered water, then return to my seat.
As we relax in the pink light of the curtains, I suddenly feel aches in my forearms, ribs, shoulder, knee. I will probably be covered in bruises, but the trip will prove worth the pain, if it revitalises our new friend. However, it seems this process may take a while.
Seconds ago, I was eager to tell Cali all about our adventure, but now it feels inappropriate to gloat, as though our encounters may cause panic, rather than jubilation. I sense she is not mentally prepared for the full picture so I will probably drip-feed information over the coming hours, and insist she can handle the outside world, even if I have my doubts.
'Thank you. This really helps,' Cali whispers, looking gaunt; the skin around her eyes dark and drooping. Hopefully, this medicine can quickly restore her strength because she will need to become active soon, whether she is ready or not. I remove the boxes of Aelixyr from the carrier bag and place them on her coffee table.
