by Jamie Wang
“Mom, time to go to your bed.” Lissandra nudged her.
Her mother shifted slightly as she burrowed deeper into the cushions. “Charles, is that you?”
Lissandra sighed. “No mom. Look, let’s get you to bed.”
Her mother drunkenly waved her hand, trying to shoo Lissandra away. “Let me sleep a little more. I was just with daddy.”
“Mom, Leon’s going to wake up pretty soon. You don’t want him to see you like this, do you?”
“Liss, don’t bother me,” her mom said in a lazy voice. “Just go away like a good girl.”
Lissandra sighed and started collecting the empty bottles strewn around her mother. Some were still heavy with alcohol, but she threw them away all the same.
She opened up their cupboard to find nothing but dust and cobwebs. “Mom, did you go get groceries like I asked?”
Or did you just buy more booze.
Her mother had always liked alcohol, but never like this. Ever since her father had died fighting a fire for The Dragon, her mother had developed an obsession. It had quickly drained them of all their savings. That’s when Lissandra decided to become a Mouse.
Lissandra peeked up to make sure her mother was passed out. She reached her hand into the back of the cupboard where she had smashed a small hole. She felt around the crevice to retrieve some neatly folded dollar bills. Carefully counting the bills with her fingers, she snatched a few dollars before closing the cupboard.
“Alright Mom, I’m going to buy some food. Make sure you clean yourself up.”
“For God’s sake, Lissandra, shut up!”
For a while, Lissandra couldn’t move. Her mouth hung open as she stared stupidly at her sleeping mother. At last, she took a step toward the door and left. “Sorry, mom.” She muttered.
The dry heat of the morning sun was a welcome change from the damp warmth of her house. Only the shop owners were out, busy setting up the rickety tables and chairs they called a shop.
Lissandra had bought just enough money to buy some breakfast for Leon. The rest of them would have to wait until lunch. But before she could buy food, she had to go see Jynx. If they wanted to eat next week as well, someone had to make money.
When Lissandra arrived, Jynx’s door was already half open. She knocked on the door with three sharp raps. “Hi.”
“Oh, it’s you again.” Jynx replied. “You’re quite the early bird aren’t you?” She carefully adjusted the masks hanging on her wall.
“I could say the same for you.”
“I have to get the store ready. I’m technically not even open.”
Watching her was strangely calming. She would tilt the mask ever so slightly in one direction before deciding to tilt it back. Nothing would change, but she ended happier than when she started. Lissandra snapped out of her empty stare. “Oh, I can come back if—”
“No, it’s alright. How’d the drop go?”
Lissandra looked down at her bandaged knees. “Good enough.”
“I have to say, I was surprised you even finished. Most Mice do drops in teams of four. I guess more money for you then.” Jynx went around the store to adjust the rest of her items.
“Don’t call me a Mouse.”
Jynx let out a short laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with taking pride in your work. After all, Mice save lives.”
“I’m not trying to save the world or anything, I just need money.”
Jynx gave her a short nod and shrugged. “Anyways, what can I do for you?”
“I want to do another drop.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jynx took two quick steps and closed the door. At last, she gave Lissandra her undivided attention. “I told you already, that was a onetime deal.”
“I need the money.”
Jynx sighed. “Everyone needs the money. You’re not special, so go sign up at Project Persist like the rest of the Mice.”
“I would, but it could be weeks before I get signed up. And I don’t feel like asking my little brother if he’s willing to wait a few weeks before being hungry.”
“Look, I gave you your drop because your father worked for mine and it was unfortunate what happened. But that was a one-time favor, that’s it.”
“But if you did it once, you could do it again, right?”
“I’m sorry that you’re in a tight spot, but I don’t owe you anything.”
Lissandra’s brow furrowed. She looked back at the locked door, a frown stretched across her face. “Okay Jynx,” she said with her head down. She had expected as much. The world wasn’t going to let her catch a break twice in a row.
No.
She wasn’t here to make friends. And what would her excuses matter to Leon? “Jynx, you obviously don’t want people to know that you can assign drops, so here’s the new deal, I’ll keep your little secret, but in return, give me a drop.”
Both Jynx’s eyebrows rose in unison.
“Sorry, but food isn’t free.” Lissandra finished. “Call me whatever you want, if I can get food on the table back home, it’ll have been worth it.”
Jynx stared in silence for a few seconds before responding. “Lissandra, I think that you’re a smart girl and I like you, so I want to remind you who you’re talking to. I know I don’t really look it, but I’m still the daughter of The Dragon. So think very carefully when I ask you: are you threatening me?”
Lissandra took a deep breath. “Absolutely.”
GUNTHER
By the time Gunther awoke, Lissandra was already gone. He stepped out of their bedroom to see their mother in her usual place. He sighed and shook her awake. “Mom, go to your room, don’t let Leon wake up to this.”
His mother groaned and rolled away from him. “Just let me sleep.”
“Mother,” Gunther said as if scolding a child. “I’m the man of the house now, go sleep in your own bed, not on the couch like this.
Elizabeth turned toward him, “I will, just give me a few minutes.” Her words brought out a nauseous gas of alcohol and morning breath.
“I don’t have a few minutes. I need to get going to look for a job.”
Elizabeth gave no response. She pulled her blankets up higher so that it covered half her face. Had this been a few days ago, Gunther would’ve tried coaxing her, but he was sick of this game. He grabbed a clump of her blankets and yanked it off of her.
“Either way, you’re going into your room.” Gunther said. “I’ll either carry you there or you can get up and walk there yourself like a god damn adult.”
This caught his mother’s attention. She jerked awake and stood up with a fierce scowl. Gunther straightened his back and returned her glare. He stood a whole head taller than her.
“I’m the man of the house now,” Gunther repeated. “Go sleep in your room.”
“I’m your mother.”
“So go to your room, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth slapped Gunther, grunting with exertion. The slap resounded throughout the living room before dying down into a tense silence. Gunther didn’t even blink, he continued glaring.
“Go.” He ordered Elizabeth.
Elizabeth stumbled away shaking her head. Gunther followed her the entire way with his gaze. It was only when her door had slammed shut that he allowed himself to look away. He sighed and left the house.
The Riverside Tavern was deserted, save a single table. The men around it wore facial hair tangled with dirt while the women wore dirty tops that revealed more than it covered. They hollered at Gunther, screaming nonsense and laughing. Gunther ignored them and proceeded to the bar.
The bar itself shone brilliantly. Gunther could see his reflection through the polished wood. Even the stools by the bar stood without wobble. But besides the bar itself, cobwebs infected every corner of the Riverside Tavern. Old stains splashed across the rotting wood of the surrounding tables and chairs.
“Do you have any work for me today?” Gunther asked the bartender.
The bartender had a thick
head of graying hair. The dim lighting of the bar glinted off his glasses as he looked up at Gunther. “I don’t.” His voice was deep and scratchy.
“Please, I really need the money. I’m willing to do whatever, just give me enough for some food and I’ll work all day.”
“Gunther, no matter how many times you ask me, I still won’t have work for you.”
“Do you know of anyone that might be hiring? I’m strong and I work hard. I can do anything.”
“I don’t have anything for you to do.” The bartender responded. “Look, I heard about what happened to your dad. I knew him back when he was working in Hawk’s Lair. So consider this a favor. I know somebody who’s looking for workers, I can pass on your name if you’d like.”
“Please!”
“Well, perhaps ‘favor’ is the wrong word to use.” The bartender took off his glasses and looked at Gunther with an icy blue eye. His other eye was a faded grey, the pupil completely useless. “These aren’t the type of people you can say no to, Gunther. If I do this, you’ll do whatever is asked of you to do.”
Gunther gave the bartender a curious look. “What kind of work is this?”
“It’s whatever is asked of you.”
Gunther gave him a fragile smile. “You’re not giving me too much to go off of.”
The bartender’s frown deepened. “Come back once you decide to accept, otherwise, don’t.”
The bar fell to silence. Gunther looked around, for the first time noticing that the rambunctious table had completely quieted. Everyone at the table now stared at him.
Gunther gave them a small nod before retreating out of the bar.
BOLT
I can’t fail again.
Bolt recited his speech in his head. Usually, if the sun was up, Bolt was out and about. He would climb on top of buildings and use their roofs as his own personal highway. But today, Bolt had spent his hours of sunlight rehearsing what he would tell Sasha. He hid from her until most the sun had vanished. Now that they were in the midst of preparing for their final drop, he could avoid her no longer.
“Sasha,” Bolt called out.
Spread out under Sasha was a map of the city. It was the only help Project Persist had given them. Sasha looked up, nibbling on her thumb. “Yeah Bolt?”
Bolt looked around to make sure that nobody else was within earshot. “I don’t want to be last.”
Sasha frowned and looked back down. “Okay.”
Bolt stood over Sasha, waiting for her to say more. The longer he waited, the more restless he became. He jammed his hands into his pockets and stood like a statue. “Okay then. Let me know which leg of the drop is mine, and… thanks.” He turned to leave.
That was it?
“Stop,” Sasha said.
Bolt turned and watched her stand. He clenched his hands into fists. This was the talk he had been preparing for.
“Bolt, I know what you want me to say and if I had more time, I’d sit you down and tell you proper, but I don’t. So let me ask you one thing: are you really okay with this?”
Bolt had imagined Sasha to be a lot less tame. He nodded. “It’s better this way. We can’t fail.”
With a sigh, Sasha stood up and closed her eyes. “Bolt.” When her eyes opened again, her words held the edge he had expected them to. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. You don’t even have to go on this last drop. But if you’re going to decide not to, don’t use me as your excuse.”
“I’m not,” Bolt replied. “I just want to do what’s best for everyone.”
“It was everyone that decided you would finish our drops. Everyone believed in you, they still do. It’s only you who’s changed. Do you see Prince and Maverick here trying to switch the order of the drop? Only you’re here.”
“No.” Bolt had prepared all morning, but now that he was actually talking to Sasha, all the words he had recited disappeared. Instead, he found new ones that brought tears to his eyes. “I can’t do it. I barely slept last night just thinking about what would happen if I failed again. Especially as the last leg of the drop. You don’t know what it’s like to finish a drop. There’s the most Hawks. They’re the most desperate. And for all I know, one of you could’ve died getting me the medicine! If I fail, then what would any of that mean?”
Surprisingly, Sasha responded with a gentle smile. “I know it’s hard and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that we ever asked that of you, but it’s not because we expect you to shoulder everything on your own, it’s because you’re our best bet.”
“That’s a lie! Any of you would make a better choice than me.”
“Then why did we all pick you? We need you, Bolt. That doesn’t change depending on your mood.”
“I can’t,” he whispered.
Sasha walked up to him and gripped his shoulders. “Okay Bolt.” She mimicked his volume. “Switch spots with me, you go first.”
“If I can do it, one of you can probably do it better. I’m not strong like Maverick, or smart like Prince. And for how brave you are, I’m a fucking coward. It’s like God only made me fast to run away!” Despite his best efforts, Bolt couldn’t hold back his tears. He stared at his feet, watching his shame rain down onto the floor.
“Bolt.” Sasha gave his shoulder a small squeeze. “Grit your teeth.”
“What?” Before Bolt could look up, he felt Sasha’s fist ram into his cheek. He stumbled into the side of the wall and fell onto the ground.
“What was that for?” he screamed, his mouth throbbing through every syllable.
“Nobody talks about my family like that.” Sasha stood over Bolt with a proud smile.
Bolt winced as he massaged his cheeks. He always knew how ridiculous Sasha was, but sometimes she still managed to surprise him. “You didn’t have to hit me,” he finally said.
Sasha gave him an outstretched hand. “Yeah I did. If you ever have doubts, I’ll always be here to help you through them. And if you ever start giving into those doubts, you can always count on me to knock some sense into you. So get up off the floor, Bolt.”
JAKE
Dust coated the room. All the windows held decaying planks of wood in front of them. Only slivers of sunlight made it through. The sunlight did very little to brighten the room. In the corner were two boys nearly passed out and in the middle, a table with Jake and Bryce.
Jake’s leg shook. His chair rattled like a snare drum. Occasionally, his knee would hit the tabletop in a deep percussive note. The room lacked any color save for a single yellow package with a knife stuck through it. Jake yanked the knife and watched it bleed white powder. He brought the knife up to his nose and snorted the powder off of it.
“Aghh shit!” he screamed. His chair creaked, complaining about his sporadic movements. “Fuck!” He stood up and sent his chair crashing toward the ground. “I can’t believe that bitch got away!” He slashed the air at the imaginary Mouse in front of him.
“Careful Jake.” Bryce was also shaking. But unlike Jake, he was at least able to remain seated.
“I’m not gonna fucking hit anything.” He continued slashing into the air. His left hand stung which only served to anger him more.
“I mean don’t take too much, The Boss will notice.”
Jake stabbed his knife into the package once again. “Who the fuck cares. I’m not scared of him. It’s not like any of us has ever met him in person. He’s too much of a wimp.”
Bryce frowned and scratched his bald head. “He’s willing to go up against The Dragon. Someone like that has to be pretty strong. I can respect that.”
Thick red lines twisted and intertwined into some strange circle on Bryce’s head. They were painted as if part of some ritual, but Jake had never heard Bryce speak of religion. It was probably a tattoo just to distract from his baldness.
“Fuck!” Jake snorted another line of powder. His body yanked itself up as if having seizure. He picked up his chair and slammed it back upright. “I know, I know. I’m not that stupid. It�
��s just that she was mine! I had her!” He fell into his chair.
“Who?”
“The fucking Mouse that got away. She was face flat on the dirt and then that red-eyed bitch came along to fuck everything up!” He paused to look at Bryce, “If I ever find her again, she won’t get so lucky. What do you think Number One?”
“My name’s Abrim.” Number One sat in a corner on the ground with Number Two. His eyes were closed as he pushed a needle into his arm. He let out a slow moan.
“Fucking Stickers.” Jake shook his head in disgust. “Much better to do the powder, doesn’t get your mind so fucked up. Isn’t that right Number One?”
“I have a name.” Number One barely whispered. Already he was drifting in and out of consciousness, following Number Two’s example.
“Like I’m going to give fucking Stickers a name. Right Number Two?”
Number Two murmured something inaudible. Both Number One and Number Two had small frames that still managed to stretch their skin. If not for the occasional twitch of a toe, Jake could believe that they died. Not that it mattered.
Jake sighed and looked back at Bryce, “I swear to God, these replacements keep getting worse. I liked our previous Number One and Two better.”
“All they ever do is send us more fucking Stickers. Worthless pieces of trash, can’t run for shit either,” Bryce said.
“Good thing they’re such excellent conversationalists!” Jake shouted at Number One and Two. “Especially when they’re sticking!”
There was no response.
“Fucking Stickers. I hope The Slasher rips your throat out,” Jake said as he drove his knife back into the package. A small white cloud puffed up.
“Have you heard?” Bryce asked Jake. “Apparently The Slasher took out The Boss’s number one Hawk, Jericho.”
“Him? He was a piece of shit.”
“Yeah, but pretty strong.”
Jake chuckled. “I guess that makes us the new number one. More money to us then. I bet you that The Slasher’s just some Mouse with a grudge.” Jake shook his head. “He should really be careful what enemies he makes.”
