The Yellow Pill

by Chaves, Michelle

  She braced herself and pulled the bottom part of the window upwards. It gave way with only the smallest complaint.

  The corridor was deserted and she gave a mental thank-you to the south gang for making this easy on her for once.

  The hardest part was to resist taking any of the junk food… chips, chocolate, soda, cookies, candy and much more packed the tiny room. Sure, it was heaven while you ate it, but it left a burning hole in your stomach after five minutes that was even more painful than the previous hunger.

  Frey started forming a pile on her blanket. She stacked soup powder, bread, some dried meat, apples and a small bottle of water on it, munching on bread while she worked. In the end she tossed a package of chocolate chip cookies on top, folding the fabric together and tying it to her back.

  As she crouched in the window, the thought of Jin struck her and she couldn’t help but feel worried. Lately he seemed to have developed a bad habit of hanging out with people they would normally avoid.

  Frey’s gaze suddenly snapped up to side. She thought she had seen a movement, but now that she was looking, she saw nothing. A shiver crept up her spine, staring at the very base. Something kept giving her the creeps.

  The sky went bright as a drop was announced and Frey cursed at how close it was. This close to the gang border, a drop always ended with a lot of corpses and a red repainting of the walls…

  Frey climbed faster than she should have, almost losing her grip. She jumped the last two meters and set off at a run, already hearing gunfire and shouting. Frey tightened her own package while she bolted, deciding not to look back as the first screams welled up behind her.

  The latch was well hidden under the staircase. Everything was rat and vermin proof. Father Patrick made sure none of the precious food went to waste. So she ignored the two rats running over the floor.

  She left the orphanage quickly, knowing he would be grateful for the food, but not so happy with her for stealing it. He didn’t approve of her putting herself in danger, even after all these years.

  Frey pushed the bottle of water into place, the only thing except an apple she had kept. Shoving her hands in her pockets, Frey walked down the street, already troubled over how little the orphanage had left for food. Their resources were becoming more scarce and scattered and she knew it was only a matter of time before the kids would be starving.

  The gangs damn storages are filling with more pills and less food lately…

  Frey stopped at an intersection. She couldn’t see it, but knew it was there. She averted her eyes, feeling cold shivers running up and down her spine like tiny mice playing tag. She left the hidden camera behind, doubt and suspicion only rooting ever deeper.

  A faint alarm was going off in the distance, mingling together with all the other noises of the night. There was still some time before sunrise, so she decided to go to her special place and watch a part of Slum City come to life. She turned to the right, heading down the main street.

  The broken neon signs soon came into view, so clustered and tightly packed they almost touched those on the opposite side of the street. In many places you couldn’t even spot the sky through the tight mass of pipes and store signs that snaked like a rooftop over the streets.

  The Cantonese letters were just as impossible for her to decipher, or even guess the meaning of. If you were lucky, there was an image underneath to guide you. Otherwise you had to trust your nose and eyes to figure out what the steaming food was supposed to represent. If you were able to ignore the stink from the sewers, that was. The meat was hanging behind the thick bars, the unrecognizable lumps well guarded.

  The smoke and fog was much worse down here, lying like a thick blanket, seeping into the stores like uninvited, ghostly guests. The flickering from the lamps and windows drew the eye, the broken, but still lit, signs contributing with their eerie glow.

  This place was always full of people, never seeming to settle or sleep. There was talk and clatter, yells and shouts, doors slamming, dogs barking, cook-fires sizzling and smells in the thousands. There was life, and Frey had found herself drawn to this place because of it. She loved it. Loved the smell, the mess and the crowds.

  There were all kinds of people, although all of them were as fifthly and haggard as the next.

  “Dog?” Frey asked a man selling a steaming stew from a small stand, this one not behind bars. Her voice was muffled through the bandana covering the lower part of her face. Most were wearing proper gas masks as the steam coming from underground was thick and hot, as well as smelly.

  The man with the gas mask shook his head. “Rat,” he said.

  Frey walked on.

  She moved along the market, heading for a tall skyscraper that was missing half its lower walls. It looked dangerously close to collapsing on its neighbor. She guessed that was one of the reasons she got the place to herself.

  The dome was lighting up and Frey climbed the stairs at a run, taking three at a time. She pushed the door to the roof open, panting. The heavy thumping of her heart slowed while she looked out as far as the building would allow. Frey could see the south and east part of The Wall.

  The “sun” was up, casting its light onto the ragged, broken constructions, revealing the damage that was like a permanent stain on the city. Damaged cars and shops lay scattered around like ironic reminders that they had once been in working order. The naked mannequins a crude joke next to all the debris. The empty, ramshackle restaurants, bars, hotels and gas stations lay like big slabs of abounded history.

  The strange thing was, no one could recall it ever having been any different than this, and yet they all knew that there had been a time when everything hadn’t been in ruins.

  Same as no one knows what the outside looked like, or who built The Wall and the dome. Frey lay down with her hands behind her head. The sandstorm and radiation would kill me within seconds. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to sweep this cursed prison away! Her hand swept over the dome as the thought came to her, her teeth bared at the sky as if she could threaten it into dispersing.

  Frey closed her eyes for a while, suddenly feeling very tired. She no longer slept during the night. It was like she didn’t trust the made up darkness from dome or the digital stars. Although she had to admit that the worst nights were when the sky was totally black, like a hole with no end. She dreamed.

  A reflection caught her eye. When she turned to look, it was gone. She frowned. There was another glimmer and she turned again, only to still see nothing. A third glimmer made her twist the other way. She twisted and turned, always missing whatever was happening at the edge of her vision time and time again until her knees bent and the darkness of the dome would come pressing down on her, ready to swallow her whole. She tried to stand up and run, to get away from the hole in the sky only to find that her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Panic gripped her and she knew that whoever was looking for her was getting closer. Frey snatched at the hand that reached for her, the other balling into a fist.

  Jin let out a yell and fell on his arse. She was frozen for a second before she let her fingers come up to rub her eyes. “Holy crap, Jin. You scared me.”

  “Bloody hell!” He said, getting to his feet, straightening his big gasmask so it was again resting between his shoulder blades. “I was calling your name, but you didn’t answer.”

  Frey sat up and crossed her legs, trying hard to rub away the sleep from her mind. “I was… it was just a dream.” She looked up at him. “How come you’re here?”

  “This isn’t just your spot, you know,” Jin said as he copied her and sat down. “You smell good. Got another shower at south side?”

  “Yup, and by the smell of you, you could use one yourself.”

  “You know I can’t climb like you,” he said, putting his little finger in his ear.

  “You’ve never tried.”

  “Anyway. I actually wanted to find you. I’ve got a job for us. I spoke-“

  “What's the pay?” She interrupted.
>
  Jin rolled his eyes while he retied his hair at the nape of his neck, biting at the end of the torn string that had definitely seen better days. “It’s not Yellow pills. I do know you, you know,” he said when he was done.

  “Seems to be the only thing they trade most of the time.”

  “Not this time. Spoke to Andree, and he needs help with moving one of the supply storages. Mould’s gotten inside the old one somehow. He’s confiscated a cooling room he wants it all moved to. He’ll need a roof lookout,” Jin said. “And that’s where you come in.”

  “And where will you be?”

  “Ground level. I’ll be watching for your signals if you spot anything.”

  Frey was silent for some time. “You’ll be armed?”

  “We’ll both be.”

  “I didn’t know he had access to more than personal weaponry for his guards…”

  “Well, lets just say he’s been doing a lot better the last few months.”

  Frey clenched her jaw. She didn’t want to get into another fight with Jin, so she kept her mouth shut. People dealing with the Yellow pill held the most valuable product in Slum City. They could get anything for it and they all knew it.

  Jin saw her face. “He’s offering half a Quarter of food, each! That’s a whole Quarter for less than half a days work. Seriously, it can’t get better than that.”

  Frey had to admit that she would have taken the job for considerably less. Half a Quarter each was a lot. She bit her lip. That could feed the orphanage for another month, depending on what was in it.

  “We both know you’ve already decided to take it.”

  Frey put her boot into his chest, toppling him over with a grin. “Indeed“ she said.

  Chapter 3

  The ground was just blurry stripes of black and grey as she leapt the dizzying gaps between the buildings when possible, using connecting ventilations pipes when not. The small rifle was strapped to her back and she was having a hard time not getting too carried away about carrying a weapon. She knew the reason Jin had asked for her was for her capacity to not fall off the roof and not for her shooting skills.

  Frey slid down a ventilation pipe to the side. Confident that it would hold, she put her weight on it. The trick was not to think too much. Not too much calculation nor take too long. Just jump.

  She shoved off the platform and jumped.

  Frey slid onto her side when she landed, shoving the sniper rifle back between her shoulder blades. She could see the little train of carts being hauled by Andree’s gang. Jin was close to the head of the band, walking backwards, looking up at her.

  The small company made it to the next bend without incident. She slid down a drainpipe to a balcony below. The adjacent fire escapes were so closely positioned they almost touched, only requiring her to take one step over to reach the next building.

  The sudden movement was lightning fast, and she would have missed it, had she not looked down to see where her foot was going. Five men were right below her, and they were all armed. Frey froze. She was like a sitting duck up here.

  One leg was over the railing, her hands out for balance. There were more signs of movement, and more people came creeping out from the shadows. Frey bared her teeth and swore mentally, knowing she had to warn the caravan or both she and Jin could kiss their payment goodbye.

  Her fingers slowly twitched behind her back and fumbled for the safety, then the trigger. There was no way she would get the bloody thing off without alerting those below, but she could fire a shot right here, right now. But when she did, all eyes would be on her…

  Damn!

  Frey fired. Covering her face, she threw her body at the window, curling up into a tight ball, her insides contracting and cramping. Sudden gunfire erupted, one shot brushing her jacket as she fell through the wood and glass, landing hard on the floor. Frey felt the shards cutting into her back and shoulder, the blood warm and sticky as it trickled down her side. She heaved herself up, grabbed a chair and hurled it through the opposite window, the sound of glass shattering overwhelming the yelling. She quickly grabbed onto the fire escape, and climbed for all she was worth, barely avoiding the bullets.

  Frey rolled onto the roof, her mind working franticly to figure out how to get off it alive. Her eyes stayed on a heavy metal bucket, and she let it fly over the edge to draw the pursuers off.

  Frey twisted and pushed off the roof, guts clenching as she hoped they had taken her bait. The gun weighed her down, slowing her slightly as she bolted towards the edges of buildings, throwing herself over gaping drops without leaving time for thought.

  The carts came into view. One was tipped over, its contents spilling out onto the broad street, packages getting soaked in filth. Her team was under fire, a few taking cover behind the toppled wagon, others in the alleyways behind.

  Frey spotted Jin crouching behind a container with, big piles of waste overflowing it’s sides, liquid and garbage splattering from the shootout.

  Frey slid into place with her back to a metal chimney. Using the top as support, she aimed for the one who had been keeping Jin pinned down behind his cover. Frey had to duck for cover when attention was drawn to her. She took a deep breath and cast the rifle up into firing position once more. Brick exploded, fragments flying everywhere together with brains as the bullet left a big hole right through the man’s forehead. Her team was finally pushing back the assault.

  A warm pain flooded though her as a bullet bite into her flesh. Dropping to her knee with a moan, she clutched at her arm, feeling the hot blood pump between her fingers. Frey tore her bandana off, using her teeth to tighten it around the wound. Biting down hard in pain and anger, she sprang back up from cover, keeping the rifle in place with the help of the chimney and her shoulder.

  But by now her team had pushed the assault back, the last of them backing away into the wreckages. Her whole arm throbbed as she slipped the rifle back into place. Walking up to the edge, she got Jin’s attention and motioned him to continue. They couldn’t afford to delay. Gunfights could attract others, and another attack was something they couldn’t afford right now.

  Jin gave her a thumbs up. They tipped the wagon back up and began loading unspoiled contents back on. Frey pushed the pain to the back of her mind as she followed from the roof, with the knowledge that the extra food would be worth it.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” Frey said for the final time. Having heard enough she turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving the man sitting on his couch, looking surprised and not very happy. The guard at the door let her pass. She heard Jin mumbling something before following.

  Frey jogged down the stairs, wanting to be gone from this place as soon as possible. She didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  “Frey! Wait up.” Jin ran up to her and the two of them walked down the crowded street together.

  “I hope you’re not goanna question me…” she said, knowing he wanted to lecture her in what an opportunity they were missing. “You know I don’t deal in drugs, no matter how good the pay may be.”

  Jin closed his mouth again. He used his little finger to scratch his ear. “Oh well… I would be better off arguing with a rock for all the good it’s going to do me.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  Jin elbowed her in her ribs, nudging her arm on the way. “We’re goanna go get that looked at,” he said when he saw her arm.

  “I’ll go get it done later,” Frey said, voice strained with pain, not looking at him.

  Jin shook his head. “I’ll chuck you over my shoulder and take you myself if you refuse to go.” He made a grab for her healthy arm and she danced to the side.

  “I’ll go, I’ll go.” She didn’t admit he was right. “Like talking to a rock.”

  “You saved my life out there Frey, the least I can do is pay for a few stitches,” Jin said.

  “Yeah, well, I still think a cup of brown powder is too much to pay for a few stinking stitches,” she said.

  “Food’s getting
harder to get…”

  Frey said nothing, although words were itching to get out.

  Jin handed her leather jacket back to her, and Frey winced as she shrugged it back on, but said nothing about the pain. Showing weakness in Slum City was a guaranteed way to meet your maker.

  Frey flexed her hand. “You wanna go scrap hunting?”

  He smiled down at her, winking. “Alright.”

  The scrap yard was a sea of metal, machines, junk, animal carcasses, wood, glass and if you looked hard enough, the odd thing of value you could trade at the markets.

  Jin walked in front of her, picking his way carefully among the unstable piles of garbage, his eyes scanning a short radius around him. Miniature avalanches raced down the steep slope, the clatter of metal blending with all the other noises from the scrap yard. They were far from the only ones out here, but the yard was vast and they ran little chance of bumping into strangers by mistake. Frey moved as carefully as Jin. Stumble and fall and you would be lucky to get away with a broken leg.

  Frey pulled out a long cord, but when it had nothing of interest on the other end, it ended up rolling down the side as well.

  “Hey, Frey,” Jin said.

  She looked up and saw Jin staring at a man balancing on top of a wrecked car. It was hard to hear what the man was yelling, but it was clear he wasn’t quite right in the head. The man was screaming at nobody and everybody, moving around in circles on top of an upside-down turned car, waving his arms in the air like he was fighting with someone.

  “Can you hear what he’s yelling?” Jin asked.

  Frey strained her ears, trying to pick out the words above the racket. “Eye? The eye… alone something… don’t let them… spot? No, drop you… took my-“ Frey stopped, shaking her head. “He doesn’t make much sense.” She didn’t admit that even though he seemed to be spewing insanity, his words still made her shiver.