Carcass 1.7.1

Jay awoke feeling groggy. A tide of heaviness swept over his body and he lay motionless on the mattress. His eyes were half-open, gazing blankly at the ceiling as he contemplated the events of the previous night. He felt like he had only slept a few hours and he wanted nothing more than to roll over and return to his slumber. Flashes of blood and agonized screams pulled his mind from his dreams, and a cold sweat formed over his skin.

He took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. He cocked his head and blinked. An amber hue flashed briefly in his irises. The nightmare was forgotten in an instant.

The smell of eggs and sausage drifted into his nose. His stomach growled in anticipation. Jay dragged himself out of the bed and flipped the sheet back up towards the pillow. He marveled at the bedding and the fact that there was more than one pillow.

Dirty, bare feet touched against the cold hardwood floor. The walls were bare, brick-and-mortar that appeared to have been repaired over the years. A desk and nightstand were in the corner, along with a few shelves bolted into the wall.

There was a closet, the interior hidden by dark wooden doors. Jay turned the knob and walked inside. He flipped a switch. The light inside flickered to life and illuminated the inside. It was bigger than his room back with his mother.

It was also stuffed with around a dozen different shirts, pants, and other apparel. A mix of different outfits and styles, as if someone had tried a bit of everything in order to hit some obscured mark.

Jay ambled back outside. He imagined filling it with his own belongings. Mementos and clothes and devices that he had never gotten to enjoy before. It was a completely different life.

He was startled out of his thoughts by a knocking on the door.

“Jay, breakfast is ready!” He flinched in surprise and walked to the closed door. He opened it slowly, his pale face peaked out from behind the dark wood. He made contact with Smog, her gray eyes boring into his blue ones.

“Breakfast is ready,” Smog said again. Jay hesitantly nodded. He followed her into the kitchen where she handed him an overflowing plate. A wave of smells flooded his senses, and Jay was immediately attracted to the delicious smell of meat, potatoes, onions, and cheese.

Jay glanced at Smog. The older woman was busy scooping out another portion from the pot. He took a seat at the table and fiddled with the silverware. He waited until Smog sat down before he took his first bite. He almost moaned at the flavor.

“This is amazing,” Jay remarked. Smog uncharacteristically raised an eyebrow at him and slightly nodded.

“Thank you. It’s an old recipe from my mother. She used to make it before the beast waves.”

“Do you make it often?”

“No, it's too filling for me, but I assumed you might like it.” Smog gestured to the already half-eaten plate. Jay looked away and his face flushed. A wave of heat drifted by. He swallowed what was in his mouth. He finished up quickly and divided the leftovers into two portions, he pushed the plate off to the side.

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but why are you still here? I thought you were just supposed to watch me yesterday. I don’t want to take up more of your time.”

Smog waved him off.

“Don’t worry about it. My weekends don’t involve anything and I’m currently on standby. I’d rather help you get accustomed to your new lifestyle,” she said. Jay nodded with appreciation. His mind wandered back to what Argo had said last night.

“You do this often?”

“What do you mean?”

“Argo said last night that she dealt with other people from The Drowned. Claimed she’d kill me like the rest,” Jay watched Smog for any sign of deception. He didn’t know Smog, he hardly knew anyone in The Drowned, but he braced himself for the inevitable hurt. He wondered how many times she had gone through this exact scenario before sending someone to their death.

“Ah. For future reference, don’t believe everything an enemy tells you,” she looked through the window at the rising sun, “But no. Madok sent some of the gang to negotiate with her but she dealt with them instead. We don’t send powered to their deaths. Each one is too rare to waste them like that,” Smog explained. Jay didn’t know why he felt a wave of relief.

Perhaps it was the fact Smog hadn’t done the same thing dozens of times before. It made Jay think this was special. She cooked him her mother’s recipe.

“Why send unpowered to deal with her, that seems wasteful too,” Jay raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know she was a super back then. Just heard reports of some gang coming into conflict with our patrols. Our members know the risks,” Smog said while lifting the fork to her thin lips.

“That happen often?”

“What? The patrols dying?”

“Yeah.”

“Occasionally. West Seattle isn’t the safest place, despite our efforts. Maletos constantly target people in our territory with their drugs. We get the ones we can but can’t stop people from going to them,” Smog shrugged.

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“Any plans for today?” Smog seemed to want to change the topic. She stood up from the table and deposited her plate in the sink, turning on the water and letting the residue drain away.

Jay thought for a moment, “No, I might go down to the beach. I need to talk to my father.”

Smog frowned at Jay, uncertainty crossed her features. Something stopped her from questioning further.

“You should shower first. Down the hall, men’s showers are on the left. Put any clothes in the basket and they’ll get cleaned.”

Jay brought his shirt to his nose and scrunched his features in response. He didn’t smell pleasant. He retreated to his room and found a set of clothes and made his way to the bathroom. He nodded to Smog briefly and went down the hallway. The bathroom had a few shower stalls, along with toilets.

He hopped into one of the stalls and quickly rinsed off the grime and sweat that coated his body. He lathered his body with a spare bar of soap that was resting on the shelf. He hadn’t realized the state he was in until he stepped out of the shower and felt like a reformed human. He dried himself off and donned a new pair of clothes.

He noted the small basket and deposited the clothes that Shadow Man had given him.

He rejoined Smog, who was currently watching the news while sitting in the main lounge. He sat on one of the other sofas.

“When will the others get here?”

“The junior team?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe within a couple of days. They’re experiencing some trouble so it's taking longer than expected. I’m sure they’ll be happy to have you join.”

“What are they doing?” Jay couldn’t help but feel curious.

“There's a Cracked beast that’s hitting some of the outlying farms. Madok thought it’d be a good training experience for them. Plus the extra cash doesn’t hurt.”

“You can get paid for that?”

“Yes. Although Madok is the one who learns about them.”

“That’s cool,” Jay admitted. He had always thought of capes dealing with the monster waves but hadn’t thought about bounties being placed on certain ones outside the walls. It probably wasn’t something he would have come into contact with when he didn’t have his powers.

Jay watched the news for a moment, content to relax. He eventually got up and made his way towards the door.

Smog’s calm voice came from behind.

“Make sure to not draw attention to yourself. Central is still watching your brother and mother so don’t go near them. If I had my way you’d be under lockdown for another month. Seems like Madok thinks you’re smart enough to not get in trouble. Please don’t prove him wrong. There are some glasses and hats in the box next to the door.”

“Okay. I’m surprised I’m still not on probation or something,” Jay remarked.

“You completed the mission. You’re your own person. You aren’t a prisoner here,” Smog stated. Jay thanked her once again for the meal and walked out of the doors.

The streets of West Seattle were a bleak and unforgiving sight. The buildings that lined the sidewalks were tall and grey, with cracks and chips in the concrete that spoke of years of neglect. Flickering streetlights casted a useless glare over the sparse streets, streets that seemed to stretch on forever in every direction.

No one looked at the strange young man who wore sunglass and had a mask that covered the bridge of his nose and mouth.

Jay kicked a loose pebble, he watched as it skipped across the ground and landed in front of one of the dozens of collapsed structures. This place was about half an hour's walk from where he was staying. It had taken a bit of wandering around, but Jay had lived here for long enough to know where to go. He passed a familiar blinking sign of a rundown pharmacy.

He took a breath, the air was thick with the scent of exhaust fumes and garbage, and the sound of distant sirens served as a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked around every corner. Graffiti and other forms of vandalism marred every surface. A desperate atmosphere permeated the area.

Homeless individuals huddled in decrepit and rundown doorways, their tattered blankets and clothing serving as their only protection against the cold, damp morning air. Others pushed shopping carts filled with their belongings, in search of a safe place to rest or some unfound loot hidden in the houses destroyed by a rampaging Cracked beasts.

The occasional car sped by, the sound of its engine echoing through the streets like a gunshot. Those that had to venture through this part of the city kept their heads down and moved fast. Jay was no different and walked with focus, brushing past a few outstretched hands. He fingered the roll of cash in his pocket.

“What to do with five thousand dollars?” Jay questioned. It was the most amount of money he had ever had in his life. He was reluctant to go into a store. His getup might ould draw attention in a crowd of people.

Jay frowned and kicked another rock along the beaten path. The overcast sky was a sickly shade of gray. The clouds hung low, heavy with moisture and it seemed moments away from drenching the city in an unwanted shower.

Jay grimaced as he felt a raindrop splattered on his forehead. He pulled his hood over his head and continued his trek. He could feel the monster beneath his skin yearning to stretch its body and scratch its scaly hide against the concrete rubble. He pushed down the urge. He pushed his mind to other, more pertinent topics.

The Drowned.

Jay had felt a bit of connection with them immediately. They were comprised mostly of dockworkers and boat crew that had lost jobs due to the newfound dangers of the ocean. Old Seattle had thrived on its international trade, aerospace, tourism, and tech.

After the Crack hit the globe, most cities retreated into themselves. Those close enough to each other could establish a larger perimeter but it required there being more capes and powers to stem off monster attacks. The wildlands between the city-states teemed with dangerous animals, some were impacted with supernatural powers, and others gained heightened physical attributes. It spelled a death sentence for those not willing to submit to city rule.

Jay hadn’t heard much about the rest of the nation. The Crack had happened years ago, before he was born, and New Seattle was his entire world. Brief snippets from history class filled in some gaps but not enough for Jay to consider himself knowledgeable on the subject. The Crack was considered the beginning of superpowers on Earth. Jay was fuzzy on the exact date that the first supernatural humans were registered. Sometime in the seventies if he recalled correctly.

With trade and travel being blocked from air, land, and sea, New Seattle lost a major portion of its economy. The displacement of numerous jobs left many without a means to live. The entire city was left poorer as a result of the beast waves, and it showed in the disrepair in the out regions.

Technology continued to thrive in a world where Techno based power could almost magic together futuristic machines and tools. A high enough ranked Techno could fashion together bombs the size of a fist that could wipe entire city blocks off the face of the Earth. Lower-end Technos could comprehend massive amounts of data, those types were hired by companies for outrageous salaries.

With the wild being as dangerous as it was, most cities became self-sufficient. The outlying towns moved towards large populations in search of safety. Jay had been born in Old Seattle, which was before the current regime had established order in the wake of the beast waves.

The massive monster attacks had settled down after the first wave, but they reappeared every couple of years. Each attack varied in strength, mostly consisting of hellish mutations of previously normal animals.

“Humans were simply the quickest to adapt, the rest of the food chain followed after,” Jay muttered to himself, quoting some theorist whose name he had forgotten.

He shook his head, he was getting off track.

The Drowned. He felt a connection with them that the other gangs didn’t provide. He had lived under their influence for most of his life. They had been quick to form after the port closed down, and they refused to abandon the part of the city even after numerous gangs attempted to force them out.

They had started as a union, attempting to find work for those whose livelihoods had been taken. After the superpowers started appearing in monsters, those that risked the waters seldom returned, the ships lost at sea under the raging waves or attacked by creatures of the deep.

Jay had encounters with a few of the recruited students at his high school. Sons and daughters of current gang members who decided to follow in their parent's footsteps. Most of them were average, regular people, the gang being more of a family than anything else in their eyes.

There were also some he found unsavory, those that used their affiliation with the gang to their benefit.

The Drowned had their fair share of bloody dealings, Jay could be the first to testify of that. Every gang operated like that. If you were a member, then you were good, if you weren’t…

Jay also understood this was the way New Seattle was run. People didn’t listen to reason, only a healthy dose of authority could toe the line. The common people needed to see figures of immense strength at the head, or else they’d devolve into mindless violence. He had seen it happen when the first leader of New Seattle was killed in the beast tide.

The city had struggled to stay together, which eventually led to the splits between the different factions, gangs, and districts. Each was headed by its own group of powered individuals. Superhumans was the title appointed by the public at large, and used to refer to the powered population in the city. The label gained traction over the years with many of the gangs leaning into the aspect, some even creating mythologies about the interactions between rival powers.

People loved stories. Entire movies and books were written that told the history between certain capes and cowls.

Gods walked among mortals and it was evident in the way humans acted.