RULE #2
Sleep when you can! Doesn’t matter if it's day or night, you need to be rested. A tired mind leads to mistakes and mistakes mean death.
~ The Scavenger’s Handbook
“Neat!” Cake picked up the dirty cloth bag and placed it on one of the empty seats.
She couldn’t believe the number of cool treasures she was finding within the rusty train cart. Lightly damaged circuit boards, usable wiring, and intact LED strips! But the greatest one was the cart itself. Finding one that wasn’t burned or stripped to its outer shell, was a rarity. And now an entire untouched bag. Sure, most of the contents within it were no better than trash to the untrained eye. But the mouldy clothes could be fixed, while the sneakers could be sold at Leeroy’s. Quickly the teen removed her backpack from her shoulders and unfastened one of the dozen carabiners stuffed into the side pocket.
Hooking the cloth bag was easy as snapping her fingers, however, Cake found it challenging where to attach it. With her left arm out of action, she had to be very careful with weight distribution. Maintaining her balance was already becoming an issue, as the four-hour jog in the tunnels had proven. The carabine dangling from the side of her gear kept slapping the back of her left thigh and she couldn’t make slight adjustments to the straps of her back so that they wouldn’t press against the wound in her shoulder.
Cake paused for a moment as it downed on her that, things had gone bad for her very fast. As far as first impression went, she was making a terrible one. No wonder Grey was constantly angry with her. She wasn’t making him see her as capable of handling herself, it was only because of the damned tourists to that she could pass for remotely competent. At this rate, Grey would never take her with him again on his trips into the ruins.
“That’s not why he left me here,” Cake scoffed at the skeleton on the seat on her right. “And the polite thing is to wait for me to give you name, before talking to me…”
“What’re you doing?” Francis’ muffled voice startled her. She hadn’t heard the tourist enter the cart, thinking that he would be keeping watch in case something other than Grey or Joshua showed up. “Mr Grey told us not to wander off.”
“I wasn’t talking to myself!” Cake blurred out without thinking, clasping her hands over her mouth when the words reached her ears. “Only crazy people talk to themselves and I’m not crazy!”
“Uhm… Okay?” The teen’s response hit her like a slap across the face. She could see the boy’s expression change from annoyance to genuine concern. Whether it was for Cake’s mental state or his own safety was of little interest to the mutant girl. All that mattered was what the Axion brat might tell Grey.
“I’m not! I was…,” she desperately looked around in an attempt to come up with some reasonable excuse of a valid explanation, “I mean, I was talking to him!” Cake pointed at the somewhat intact skeleton in the seat nearest to her.
“I was just venting to him, cause there’s no one else around to hear me out. Yes! That’s it!”
“Right.” The brat took a step back and she could see his hand reach for the rifle locked to the side of his backpack.
It was then that Cake realised she had pulled out her machete and was preparing to pounce on him. But why? The question hovered at the back of her thoughts. This had to be exhaustion, otherwise, there was no explanation for her actions. By all accounts, the tourist wasn’t a threat to her. Not yet. Sure, Cake could see them becoming enemies in the near future, but for now – or at least for as long as Grey wished it – they were allies. She might not like it, and couldn’t wait for the opportunity to leave Joshua bleeding in a ditch, however, it was what it was. Cake would comply.
In a way, she actually felt sorry for Francis and Maité. She liked them a little bit and watching them stumble through the metro tunnels, gawking like babies at everything they saw was entertaining. But not Joshua. Cake disliked the guy with a burning passion. Pretending to be all righteous and good, when he clearly had no idea how life out in the ruins worked, really ticked her off. No-eyes had whispered as much, while they were running. But that’s why she kept the strange skull around. Unlike the other ones in her collection, this one was giving her some rather good advice, despite his irritating silence when proper human skulls were around her.
Taking a long deep breath, Cake clasped her hands in front of her chest and spread them out in what she assumed had to be a less threatening pose. “What can Cake do for you?”
“Mr Grey told us to wait at the platform, while he and Master Sergeant scout ahead,” the tourists spoke calmly while keeping a respectful distance from her. As if that was going to help him if she wanted him dead.
“In no way did he indicate that you can deviate from the secured area.” Francis paused suddenly and leaned slightly to the left examining her. “Are you robbing the dead!”
“What?” Cake was confused by the sudden outrage and disgust in the tourist’s tone. Unsure of what to say or do, the girl looked around expecting the answer to come from one of the skulls around her. However, they were remarkably quiet now, preferring to glare at her with their empty eyes. Leering at her misery. Mocking her.
“Don’t you have any sense of common decency? Stealing from the dead is just wrong.” Francis continued oblivious to her growing anger. “I knew you Scavs were scum, but this is a low I never imagined…”
“What the fuck is your problem?” Cake snapped at him. “You think you’re any better than us? That’s one no one likes you, tourists, cause you’re colossal assholes!”
“Let’s see if any of them minds,” the mutant girl dropped on the seat next to one of the more untouched skeletons and wrapped placed her hand over its shoulder. “You mind if I nick this off of you?” Her fingers curled around the lower jaw-bone and moved it in unison with her words. “No problem, my dear. You’re such a sweet thing and I’d be happy if you take everything.”
“See. He doesn’t mind,” Cake pushed the remains away and glared at the disgusted tourist. “Besides, I bet half your gear is recycled from stuff Scavs like me send to your damn city in the sky.”
“That’s…”
“Face it, Mr Goddy-two-shoes. No one gives a damn who owned what.” Cake spread her arms, wincing at the pain the motion caused. “If you think the dead care, you’re an idiot. They no longer need their things. But to a Scavenger, to someone like me, what we find is the difference between life and death.”
“And don’t be mistaken, brat,” the girl snorted and spat, “if it wasn’t for Axion, we might’ve been more respectful when taking things. Alas, you folks bleed us dry.”
Not entirely true, she reminded herself. If anyone was bleeding them dry, it was Leeroy and his constant price hike-ups. Sure, he always blamed the floating-city, but somehow Cake doubted that. More likely, the pipsqueak was pocketing the money in the hope to buy himself a place amongst the elite. She would do it if she wasn’t a mutant. There was nothing wrong with wishing to be out of the dirt, and if half of what she heard about Axion was true, it sounded like the place was a paradise.
“We should get back to the platform,” Francis stated flatly, to conversation no longer pleasant to him.
“Sure thing, chief!” Cake gave him a mocking solute and laughed. “Now, make yourself useful and help me detach those utility panels. The wires in there are more valuable than food.”
Reluctantly, the teen stepped closer and followed her instructions. It took the two of them a good minute or two to break the mechanism holding the rusted hatch in place. However, Cake’s smile faded as she saw the stashed cans and water bottles inside. This was someone’s secret stash. It was an unwritten law amongst Scavengers, that you don’t touch a stash. Well, another of those laws stated that what you find is yours to keep. Which meant that Cake was facing quite a dilemma. Food and water weren’t all that common to find, and Grey had thought her that there wasn’t such a thing as having too much of either.
“Don’t touch anything,” she hissed at the tourist, who had reached for one of the cans.
“Why not?” Francis picked up the item and stared at her. “It’s ok when you do it, but it’s wrong when I do it. Which one is it, Scav?”
The last felt like a deliberate insult. She wanted to smack him right in the face for it, but Grey had made it clear that she couldn’t hurt them. Still, she couldn’t just let it go.
“You blind or something?” She yelled at the tourist and snatched the can of processed meat from his hand.
Carefully placing exactly where it was, she looked for a note or a sign, which might indicate when and who had made the stash. It was a common practice amongst those who explored the ruins, and as a rule of thumb, if not claimed in such a way, the items were free to take.
“This is an emergency stash,” Cake continued in a lower, calmer voice, directing her attention to the back of the utility lid. “We’ve got rules about those. Damn it!”
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The girl spat in frustration, after seeing the piece of paper which had fallen at her feet. She’d hoped this was an unclaimed stash, left here by someone long dead. But if the long line of names and items taken and returned, was anything to go by, this was used quite often. Now that she knew this, Cake couldn’t pretend that she hadn’t seen the list. Well, she could, since the tourist was less than interested in it, but she knew that if Grey found out, he’d be furious with her.
“Actually, that might be for the best,” Cake chimed and dropped her backpack to the train cart’s floor. She was so amazed by No-eyes suggestion that she agreed without thinking.
“I’m not talking to myself! I’m not crazy!” the girl shouted quickly before Francis could open his mouth, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. That was a stupid mistake to make.
“Why do you keep saying that?” The Axion brat asked, looking at her with obvious confusion.
“Because crazy people do not belong in the Safe Zones,” Cake blurred, while she struggled with the zipper of her pack. “It’s hard enough that I’m a damn mutant. If folks think I’m crazy too, they’ll surely cast me away. Like garbage.”
“I’m sorry.” She saw Francis’ foot hover for a moment, the boy torn between coming closer to her and keeping his distance. “I thought mutants were common on the surface. Never thought you might be an outcast…”
“Hey!” Cake jumped and jabbed her finger in his chest. “I’m not an outcast! I’ve got plenty of friends back in Véi Dron. Like Leeroy and his goons. And the candle-face who drinks every night, and Missy… Well, they’re not exactly friends, but they talk to me… Shut up!”
Cake squatted next to her back and resumed her struggles with the zipper. “Fuck! Shit! What’s wrong with this bloody thing!”
“Let me help you,” Francis dropped to one knee in front of her and placed his hand over hers. Without thinking, Cake slapped the limb away and jumped back. Although, if she had jumped, she wouldn’t have ended up sprawled on the dirty floor in a pose more befitting a kicked dog.
“What the Hell! I ain’t that kind of girl!” The outburst was meant as a joke to hide how startled she was by this strange show of kindness. No one showed any affection for her, without asking for something in return. No one, except for Grey. However, it appeared that Francis had taken her statement quite literary if his next words were anything to go by.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like this,” the boy fumbled his hands just as he did his words. “It’s that you looked like you needed help. And you sounded sad, and…”
“Shut up.” Cake hissed at him, her anger returning like a storm. Under other circumstances, she would’ve milked the situation for all it’s worth. She might have even used it for further entertainment while they travelled together. “I said nothing. Do you understand? Just forget it and don’t go around spreading rumours about me.”
“Okay!” Francis nodded and opened her backpack. As he did so, Cake felt a wave of calmness spread through her at the sight of No-eyes. The damn idiot was supposed to stay hidden at the bottom in the event Grey needed some of her toys.
“What the…” the tourist began and picked the cleaned skull in his hands.
“It ain’t polite to go through a girl’s things without asking.” Calmly Cake rammed the edge of her machete into the side of his neck at the exact moment he looked up at her.
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“Where’s Francis?” Maité asked as Cake climbed onto the platform.
Despite it being a large open space, it was the safest place for them to rest. Unlike the main stations, this had only a single set of stairs leading to the surface and a single track running alongside it. With the stairs barred by a thick blast door, the only way to reach the platform was through either side of the straight tunnel. Which meant that they could see anyone coming for them. And that was something Cake hadn’t thought about on her way back from the cart. Of course, Maité had seen in which direction Francis had gone, and more than likely she thought that he would be right beside Cake. She couldn’t pretend that she had missed the Axion brat.
Or could she? The metro tunnel was clad in perpetual darkness, and despite being able to see thanks to her eyes, her vision was limited to a few meters. As for the tourists, Cake was certain that they had some sort of night-vision integrated within their helmets, but it was just as limited. More than once they had slowed their pace, due to the darkness, when Grey and his LED light source disappeared behind one of the ruined carts.
“Isn’t he with you?” Cake asked, feigning annoyance.
“No,” Maité shook her head. “He went to get you when we realised you were gone.”
“Damn it!” Cake stomped angrily with her foot and looked back towards the direction where she had left Francis’ body along with the shattered pieces of No-eyes. “I went to take a piss. You know, in private.”
“In that case, you must’ve seen him pass!” The Axion girl spoke with fresh hope entering her voice.
“Nah, didn’t see no one,” she shrugged feeling her frustration grow the longer the conversation went on. “Kind of too busy not being snatched by whatever critter might be nesting in the dark. Too many to keep count, and not all of them are all that large.”
Her chuckle was wasted since Maité moved towards the edge of the platform. It was clear that she would head towards the cart if given the chance. Either way, they would pass by it, but Grey wouldn’t give them time to explore it. At least that was what Cake was counting on. It was also why she had gone to explore it. Well, not the cart, since she didn’t know it existed in the first place. The part about finding a place to answer nature’s call was true. It wasn’t her fault that her curiosity had gotten the better of her. Without thinking, Cake had moved further into the tunnel than was necessary. After all, the teen was sure that it was safe since Grey hadn’t come running back. But that also meant that her story of not seeing Francis wouldn’t hold for long.
“He might have…” Cake desperately tried to think of something that would sound at least remotely reasonable. “I don’t know… Veered off. Fallen through a hole. Been snatched by unimaginable terrors. Stepped on a landmine or triggered any other kind of nasty trap. Or stopped to take a shit or something. Take your pick.”
She grabbed Maité’s shoulder and pulled her back. “That’s why you were supposed to stay here.”
Yes, that was it. Blame everything on the tourists’ incompetence. All her other explanations, which she had spewed like a broken sewer pipe might sound valid, but only to someone who didn’t know the first thing about the ruins and the vast network of tunnels. If she so much as dared to present this idea to anyone back home, Cake was sure that she’d become Véi Dron’s laughingstock. No one in their right mind would take her seriously anymore. That’s when it dawned on her – Grey was going to ask the same thing.
“Are you sure he went in the right direction,” Cake demanded, keeping her hold tight on the female tourist’s shoulder. And more importantly, preventing her from looking at either side of the tunnel, as an idea formed in her head. “Are a certain he didn’t go in the wrong direction?”
“Of course, I am.” Maité protested with steel in her voice.
“But are you?” Cake pressed on, without needing to feign the fear in her voice. “Before I went, you were busy sorting through your gear. And I heard you two talking that there was some issue or something with it.”
“I mean. I’m sure he went the after you.”
“And you said yourself that it took you a minute to realise I was missing. Right?”
“That’s true,” this time there was doubt in the Axion brat’s unsteady voice.
“So, you aren’t sure which direction I went in,” Cake continued, proud of being able to keep her voice steady. “Because I went a little bit back, to get some privacy.”
“No, you went in the same direction as Josh–“
“Nope! Why would I do that? I’ve got no idea what’s up ahead, and I know what’s back there.” She turned Maité around and pointed in the direction from which they had come. “You sure you didn’t hit your head?”
“I mean, I did. But…”
“As did I, and if not for Grey, I’d never know that I had a concussion,” Cake cut her off. “You should’ve said something sooner! Did Francis get injured after the explosion?”
“Of course, he did!” Maité yelled at her, affronted by the question. “We fell through the damn floor!”
“And a concussion could mess up with your memory, and sense of direction,” the mutant girl continued, refusing to relent. “To top it all, we’ve been under a lot of stress for days. So, I ask you again. Are sure that Francis went in the right direction?”
“I think so…” Finally. The uncertainty in how the Axion enforcer moved her head from side to side, was what Cake had been hoping for. All she had to do, was push her a little more, and she could blame it all on Francis being an idiot. He wouldn’t be the first tourist to disappear without a trace. Besides, the more convinced Maité was that he had gone in the wrong direction, the fewer questions Grey would be asking later on.
“What’s going on here?” Cake felt as of someone punched her in the gut.
She had missed when the man she loves had returned, clearly a sign that she wasn’t as fine as she thought. Worse. If she had been a minute too late, he would’ve seen her hide the tourist’s body under the cart’s seats.
“Francis is missing,” she hurried to answer before Maité could give her account of what happened. “I went for a piss, and by the time I got back he was gone.”
“What?!” Joshua moved forward prepared to go into full spring, only to be caught by Grey. “Let go! We have to find him!”
“Which way?” The experienced Scavenger asked calmly, ignoring the despairing teen struggling in his grip.
“I went about a hundred meters back. At the crashed bike in the wall,” Cake answered quickly while avoiding looking directly at him. Instead, she focused on the dark tunnel, as if trying to pierce its secrets with her eyes. “But I didn’t see him pass by. Maité says he went in your direction.”
“Did he?” Grey asked. Something in the calmness of his voice made her worried. He was supposed to pissed off by this turn of events.
“That’s impossible,” Joshua interjected, and for the first time in a while, Cake was happy that he was as perceptive as a brick wall. “If he had, we would’ve seen him, Sergeant.”
At that Maité dropped to the cold cement floor of the platform and began to sob uncontrollably. This was better than she had hoped. All that was left, was to think of an excuse why she must’ve missed poor Francis. Curse No-eyes for getting her in this mess. It was his fault for not staying hidden as she had told him. And she thought he was her friend. Although, if she hadn’t shattered him into pieces, he might’ve given her some good advice on what to say.
“Wait here,” Grey commanded as he let go of Joshua’s arm, “if we’re not back in thirty minutes, you move on. This line should take you to the Section 7 exit. It’s blocked by a security gate, which you can open with the master key you have on you.”
The Scavenger motioned for Cake to follow him, as he moved along the tracks. An order she was all too happy to obey. She really enjoyed spending time with him, regardless that the conversations weren’t to her liking. Still, it was one more chance for the girl to show him how much he meant to her. To perhaps open his heart and make him realise that he loved as she did him.
“Why did you kill him?” Grey’s question caught her by surprise as they moved past the burned remains Cake had used for her excuse.
“I didn’t…” The girl closed her mouth, noticing that he had remained a few steps behind her. Like one of the ruined walls above them, the lie crumbled and she whimpered. “It was an accident… I didn’t mean to. But he startled me…”
“What happened?” He demanded calmly and it made Cake’s heart tighten in her chest. Although it killed her to lie to him, it would be worse if she told to the truth. Twisting it, on the other hand, was a burden she could leave with.
“He sneaked up on me. Looked at something he wasn’t supposed to… My hand moved without thinking… I’m sorry….”
“I know you are. Why lie?” He asked and she heard him come closer. A hundred terrible thoughts played in her mind before he placed his warm hand on her head.
“Because you’d be angry… And because the others wouldn’t believe me.” Cake wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “Are you mad at me?”
“Of course, I am,” the words pierced her heart like daggers. “As much as I’m glad that you’re not hurt. What did you do with the body?”
“I hid it,” she turned around only to stumble straight into him.
“Good.” Grey embraced her tightly and she could feel his heart beating in his chest. “Everything is going to be all right, sweety.”
The calmness in his voice was worse than the beating she expected. It broke her and Cake crumbled in his arms, crying as she had never before. Not that she felt guilty for killing Francis, but for lying to Grey. At that moment she knew that she had pushed him away forever. He would never love her back.
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