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Chapter Eleven - Playing with Gomorrah’s Franny

Chapter Eleven - Playing with Gomorrah’s Franny

CHAPTER ELEVEN - PLAYING WITH GOMORRAH’S FRANNY

“With the proper augmentations, even the least hospitable environment can become a comfortable paradise!”

-Exos ad, 2049

***

Franny’s rant about the injustice of things and the authorities not doing anything hit close to home.

At least, it did for the first couple of minutes.

As she went on and on though, I found myself getting a little bored with the whole thing. Yes, life sucked. Yeah, corruption was everywhere, and people were assholes who didn’t help those in worse situations than them. The corporations and whatever passed for a government around here were shit.

At least Rac was making the best of it, shovelling food down hand over fist while occasionally nodding at whatever Franny was spouting.

“Okay,” I said, a hand raised. I was surprised that I was the one interrupting Franny. Gomorrah didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would sit down and take a rant like that.

Then again... she was just staring at the redhead—staring and not saying anything.

I held back a grin. I couldn’t jump to conclusions, but I really wanted to. Maybe my teasing wasn’t so far off the mark after all. “Okay, so these Sewer Dragons, where are they?”

“Why? So you can tell the police and watch them not do anything?” Franny asked.

“What? No, I’ve never called the police in my life and I’m not about to start now. I want to know where they’re at so I can poke holes into them.”

Gomorrah sighed. “I knew it would come to this,” she said. “I am curious as to why the Sewer Dragons are acting up now though. What they’re doing is being brushed off as losses to the incursion, but they could have done this at any time before now too.”

Franny looked confused for a moment before snapping out of it. “I don’t think this is new. I think they’ve been stepping up their game. Used to be they only grabbed hobos and sometimes maintenance people who were sent down to the sewers. Now they’re going all out.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make sense. Kidnap a dozen nobodies a year and no one will care, but... do you have a list of the people that went missing?”

“I do, here,” Franny said.

I received a ping from her, with an unencrypted file at the end. I supposed a list of names and addresses wasn’t anything worth keeping safe. “Myalis, can you check on these people’s whereabouts?”

Certainly. Of the one hundred and seventeen, twelve recently made purchases or were seen in locations throughout the city. Three are outside of New Montreal. The other one hundred and two have no clear electronic trail that I am able to detect. However, my resources and access are limited at this time.

“One hundred and two of those people are still MIA. Yeah, no, that’s too damned many.” I started to shift to the side to get up. “Rac, you done eating?”

Raccoon was currently lying back in the seat, her mouth half-open and her stomach distended from all the grub she’d shovelled down. “Huh? Oh, are we going?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You can stay in the car while Gomorrah and I go say hi to those sewer people.”

“I’m coming too,” Franny said.

“There’s no way you’re coming,” Gomorrah said. “It’s dangerous.”

Franny scoffed. “Delilah, I’m the one always saving you from danger; it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with getting into a fight.”

“It’s not the same,” Gomorrah said.

Franny’s jaw set. “What, just because you’re a samurai now? Because you’re a saint?” She pointed at Gomorrah. “Under all that fancy gear, you’re still the girl I had to keep safe for all those years.”

“Franny,” Gomorrah said. There was a lot of subtext in that one word, but it was way too early for me to even start trying to figure it out.

I stood up. “If you two are done arguing, we should get going. We don’t know how active they are at night, but I bet those Sewer Dragons aren’t sitting around picking their noses while we wait around here. If we’re going to save people, we should get to it sooner rather than later.”

Franny nodded and stood up. She picked up her bat and leaned it against her shoulder. “I know a few of the places where they have their bases.”

“More than one?” I asked.

“They’re only technically a gang. It’s more like... I don’t know, a sort of country that lives in the sewers. They have their own councils and towns, basically. Most gangs, when they’re done doing their dirty work for the day, go back home. Even if that means some dirty apartment somewhere. The Sewer Dragons’ territory is their home.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“I guess that makes sense,” I said. “So, other than kidnapping folk, do they sell stuff?”

“Smuggling, mostly,” Franny said. “None of the corps dare go into the sewers, none of the cops will follow them in either. Half the gases in there are lethal. They control the ventilation systems, and can redirect water from different plants to different areas.”

“Water?” I asked.

“More like acid,” Franny said. “Some gases are explosive, and they can move those around too. I heard that the last team sent in was blown up. The survivors got too many infections from open wounds to be saved.”

“Shit,” I said.

“Yeah, the sewer folk are real fucked up that way,” Rac said.

All three of us older girls turned to her. “What do you know about them?” I asked.

She raised her hands in surrender. “Just what everyone knows.”

“I didn’t know they existed five hours ago,” I said. “Come on, spill.”

The girl shrugged, hands dropping to her sides. “They’ve got a big entrance to their place over by the water filtration plant on sub four. They call it the Oasis. Good place to sell any filtration stuff you find in the trash. Once, I picked up this really nice aquarium from one of the upper levels. None of the other trash divers wanted it, but it looked like it was real expensive. The sewer folk bought that thing for good money.”

“Filtration stuff, huh?” I asked. “No, I guess that makes sense.” If they had homes in the sewers, then they needed every bit of filtration they could get.

“Folk there don’t live long,” Raccoon said. “Mostly it’s these people that can’t live elsewhere. Not homeless people, just, like, people in a lot of debt, or who are running away from something. There’re a lot of people like that.”

“Is the Oasis the biggest entrance to the sewers?” I asked.

“It’s the biggest that’s easily accessible,” Franny said. “Kind of like their public entrance. There are a few others, at waste management plants, but those are guarded a bit more. If you want to deal with the Sewer Dragons directly, you go to the Oasis.”

“Then let’s head over. I’d like to get this done sooner rather than later. Get home, take a shower, sleep.”

Franny shifted, her mouth working and her brows meeting together in a frown.

“You look pissed that Gom and I are helping,” I said.

“I’m not. It’s just... Well, there’s only two of you.”

“Two samurai. Two slightly annoyed samurai. Pretty sure that’s enough to break an army.”

She glared.

“That’s it, let the anger build. Soon you’ll be able to let it all out on some unsuspecting gang members.”

Franny turned to Gomorrah. “Your friend is awful.”

“She is,” Gomorrah tossed me under the bus. “But, she does, on occasion, get the work done.”

I laughed as I turned and started for the door. The Halfstar’s bartender seemed relieved to see us go. Poor guy probably thought we’d trash the place while we were here. Or that someone would pick a fight.

I saw a few guys poking at each other, jock-looking sorts that were eyeing our group up, but I think accidentally revealing that I had a grenade launcher under my coat scared them off a bit.

“We’re not taking that maintenance elevator again,” I said. “I don’t think it could handle four of us.”

Gomorrah somehow ended up at the back of the group, with myself and Raccoon in the lead and Franny a little to the side, her arms hooked over her bat, which she’d slung over her shoulders. I got a call from Gomorrah almost as soon as I exited the bar. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

I made sure my mask wouldn’t let my voice escape before I answered. “You mean helping your girl get rid of some fucked-up gang so you can score brownie points at... just shy of six in the morning?”

“That’s not what’s happening.”

“You know, I consider you a good friend G-girl. I’m there for you and your weird nun-ish sub-dom relationship.”

“I hate you.”

Raccoon looked up to me when my shoulders shook, but I just gestured for her to keep going.

Had to have some fun where I could.

***