The sort of thing that Abek Goa never likes to happen

***

“You’ll pay for what you’ve done,” a voice snarled.

Goa tried to get back up, but was knocked back down with a hard blow across his face.

Kel also tried to put up a fight to defend him, flailed with his fists, but a big man with a large weapon smashed it hard into Kel’s head, knocked him down and hit him again and again until he stopped moving.

“I can pay,”The veteran gregga forced out through the pain. “If you’ll let me. I have caches back towards the Iceline. I can make it worth your while.”

The blurry figures surrounding him laughed. Goa was kicked hard and repeatedly. He tried to protect himself, but couldn’t do much to stop them.

He cried out, hit by a blow so hard, it felt like it crushed his ribs.

“Enough!” a loud voice commanded. The blows stopped. He had a moment to gasp for painful breaths, could barely think. Through a swollen eye he could blurrily see a couple figures approach. One of them reached down, grabbed his head by the hair, yanked and twisted so hard he had to cry out again.

Whoever had grabbed his head was looking at him closely; he could feel breath and the rough swipe of a calloused hand.

“You’ll make it worth our while, for certain,” he was told from the face looking down at him. The voice actually sounded like a woman’s. A woman?!

So there was an actual community down here? Damn him for not pulling out when Kel had suggested the place felt odd. Then they would have definitely lived, at least for another day.

“Just you wait,” he was told, then they beat him into unconsciousness.

Just my luck, he thought through the haze of pain before he passed out. Try to do everything right, and you still get punished.

Too bad there was little else in life he was good at.

Streck, was his last thought before seeing a large, dark object swing down at his head.

***

What lead up to that happening

***

Morning came with a creeping blue light over the snaking shifting dusting of snow blowing across the ground, the air sharp with the kind of harsh scent that came this far south of the Iceline: frost, heavy, but sharp. Outside the tent the world was the same as the day before; ruins stretching for kilometers, only the odd avian moving through the grey sky breaking the gloom. Plenty of places to search, plenty of possibilities.

Vetran gregga Abek Goa, tall and thin, rugged from his live scavenging south of the Iceline, with more gristle than meat on his bone stood out in the warmer sun of the south, armored and armed, vigilant but hopeful.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

But all wasn’t cheery.

The kid was upset again. Something about the night before. That was the tradeoff you got from the young and sensitive types. They always required a certain level of maintenance, even if they are more loyal than the rest. Handle them right, and you’ve got a devoted follower. Do the wrong thing, say the wrong words and you have no end to the whining.

But, streck, he was adorable. Goa figured he could work out the kinks in time. He’d done it before. Wasn’t always right every time, of course. People were unpredictable. But that was life. Kel was pretty much everything he wasn't.  Young, green, light haired and eyed, short and the looks of the well fed.  His armor was more patchwork, but it would serve until they found something better.

He accepted that, planned his next move, tightening his coat against the wind, tying his boots hard. Protected against the chill, he started the work of packing up the camp, just as he started plan the day’s searching, scavenging.

Like anything else in life, you have to choose your partners wisely, whether in a game of any or in the game of the south. You need to start things right. And manage any complications that come up.

Kel already up on a broken wall, looking over the brightening remains of a city. The wind buffeted his long brown patchwork coat, blew his blonde hair around his face.

“Hey buddy,” he called the kid amiably. “Gonna help here?”

His new partner turned, jumped down through the rubble, walked over to where he was pulling down the tent.

“I don’t like this place,” Kel told him, wiping the hair from his amber eyes. “Smells wrong. Like the dead… or something.”

Goa looked around at the sinking crumbling and bent ruins. They spread as far as he could see. It was a good place, really. Had lots of potential. Places like this, spread out, low density, weren’t so attractive to the mechs. There was always something useful to be found in a sprawl – micronics, communication equipment, tools, even trilium, maybe.

Which was why he wondered about the kid’s change in attitude. He hadn’t been so unhappy yesterday, or after dark. Had a bad dream, maybe?  Regretted what they done?  He certainly seemed to be enjoying it at the time.

“Want me to help?” the kid asked.

“Yeah,” he was having trouble with the wind blowing the tent’s fabric. “Help me get this packed up. We’ll eat on the go, there’s a lot of ground to cover.”

Kel helped him, but his glower continued even after they were all packed and on their way.

“Why so grumpy?”Goa wanted to know, shaking off the last of his sleep, took a bite from his bar of meat-bread.

Kel looked over at him, eyes searching his face.

“Who’s Devlin?”

Goa tensed. Where did the kid hear that name? He’d done a good job of keeping the past the past. Hidden and safe. There was no good reason to reveal anything that mattered.

“Somebody,” he offered. “A guy I knew.”

“You must have liked him.” Kel twisted his lips, still unsettled.

“What makes you say that?”Goa asked, finished his bar, grabbed his water can from his belt.

“You said his name.” the kid replied. “More than once.”

“Did I?”Goa tried to remember as he downed a gulp. Not during sex. He was sure he didn’t.

“In your sleep.” Kel replied. “And from the way you said it…”

“Oh, come on buddy,” Goa smiled. “If I was asleep, I was dreaming. Dreams don’t mean anything.”

Damn, was he doing that again. That was the worst, sleep talking. Got him into the damnedest of trouble; was something he could never control.

“You know you’re my partner,” he told the younger man. And the best kind too, enthusiastic, sorta green, and certainly slower than him. Exactly the kind of partner who was good in machine country.

It wasn’t like it had been easy either, to double up, as he’d already returned to Reklin a few times now short of partners. Folk were getting suspicious, even the one’s who hero-worshipped the greggas who brought back treasures from the south, from the ruins, from the past, who survived the mechs who patrolled whether from the sky or the ground.

Lose another partner and he would be walking death to the people there. Too few people, and they all knew each other.

So Abek took it safe this time, picked a region that was the least likely to be troubled by flyers or bots. It wasn’t likely the mechs would hit or had hit these sprawling ruins. Not enough reward.

So what if he talked in his sleep. He’d make it up to the kid. He knew how to do that, get him back on the string.