Kyto came too in a fuzzy haze; his eyes were still closed, and all he could see was the flashing of warning signs across his vision. He slowly focussed on the messages, with the pain in his head making it difficult to read them.
WARNING: Your physical body has suffered severe trauma; caution should be taken to prevent further injury.
He flicked to his body outline. 'Shit, he thought' Only one area of his body remained green-coloured. Every other inch of his display was showing signs of damage apart from his legs. The most severe area was his abdomen, and each area he focussed on gave him more details on his injuries.
Your abdominal cavity has suffered severe bruising and internal bleeding. Rest and recovery are the only cures.
The side of his neck looked a nasty red colour, and his head and upper body were red hues, with his arms and shoulders dark yellows. His head split with the effort of reading, and he flicked the messages from his display.
He went to open his eyes and then realised that he could only currently open one. His head felt as though he had been struck with a hammer, and as his one good eye focussed, he went to turn it, causing a sharp pain to flare in his neck. 'Fuuuuuck', he thought, keeping his head perfectly still. His senses were coming back slowly, and as they did, he could feel the throbbing and pain seeming to ooze from everywhere on his body. His retina display was flashing 'WARNING' signs again. The sensation making his head spin, he immediately discarded them again and cancelled any further ones for now.
His eyes opened to take in the room where he was lying. From what he could tell, he was on a bed, looking up at what was once a white ceiling. He went to move his arm to support his neck, and his shoulders burned, and it was then he realised that his limbs were tied down. Both his arms and legs had been tied to whatever he lay on. He tried to sit up slightly, but the pain that went through his abdominal muscles caused him to gasp, and he knew it would take time before he could use his stomach muscles properly.
He closed his good eye, considering the last thing he could remember was being hung onto the frame and beaten. Rather than try and move again, he decided he better check through the damage fully now his senses were returning. He recalled the display, which looked like a patchwork quilt, every inch taking some form of injury. He read through the notifications that accompanied the warnings; most were generic concerning being struck, but some were more detailed, explaining the severity of an injury.
The muscles in the right of your neck have been torn due to kinetic impact. It is not just bruising that you need to consider but also potential swelling in your throat. Immediate rest is necessary to prevent further and potentially life-threatening injury.
It looked like his being knocked unconscious may have saved him from further harm from his captors.
He tried to take a deep breath, but as soon as he did, his abdomen told him otherwise, and he half gasped as a fresh wave of pain hit his stomach. He also had a sharp pain in his chest and was not sure if he may have had a broken rib, although he could not find an indication in his notifications. As this was the first beating he had ever received, he was not sure what level of detail they went to.
‘Why am I on a bed, he thought!’ he reopened his good eye and again tried to move his head; the pain that radiated from his neck and across his shoulders made him immediately drop his head back down and give up on that idea. He then heard footsteps nearby and saw the face of a woman; she had fiery red hair and stood over him, looking down at his beaten face. “You have taken one hell of a beating; I was unsure if you would pull through.” She said.
He tried to speak, but his throat was parched, and he could not draw any saliva in his mouth. He smacked his lips together, unable to talk.
The woman leaned over him, grabbing a cup from what must have been a side table; she then picked the back of his head up slightly, sending waves of pain through his damaged neck before tipping a little water into his mouth. The water felt like life as it soothed his parched throat, making him cough and gag involuntarily as he greedily tried to swallow it. The coughed liquid trickled down his chin.
"Slowly." The woman said, placing his head back down.
“Tabs” was the only word he croaked.
“She will be fine,” the woman said, “she didn’t get beaten as badly as you did.”
Kyto’s head was swimming, and his one open eye fluttered, 'she is alive,' he thought. His heart leapt in his chest at the news, feeling a weird sense of serenity flood him, knowing he had not lost her.
“Rest,” the woman said, “I will talk to you later.”
Kyto tried to stay awake but couldn’t keep his eyes open. His body wanted to heal, and sleep was its best option.
Sometime later, he awoke again; he immediately went to move, and before sense kicked in and memory of his injuries, pain gripped his body, flaring through him, every inch throbbing. He let out a deep moan. “Good, you're back with us again,” the same woman’s voice from earlier. He opened his good eye, looking up.
“Get the other side,” the woman said to someone.
Kyto felt the bed moving and groaned more as the bed frame was tilted more upright until he sat in a reclined position. He could now see he was strapped to a hospital bed. He took in his surroundings and the woman who stood at the side of the bed looking down on him. The woman had vibrant red hair, which was exceedingly long. It reached down her back to just below her waist. She had a single plait running its entirety and wore a band around her head. But it was her face that drew his attention. She had a long scar running from above her left eye down and across her face to the bottom of her right cheek. Her eyes were a vibrant, bright green and appeared to glow in the fluorescent light. Her makeup made her look like a vampire as it was presented as dripping blood with dark hues of red against her alabaster skin. Kyto was aware that Raiders often painted their faces. She would have had unsurmountable beauty if it were not for her scar. She wore combat-style bottoms, a black vest, and a halter neck. It had metal shoulder pads and a crosshatch design to it. He could see the motif of a raider patch on her arm. The picture was of a fang and blood droplets coming off it.
Kyto could remember the description Tabs had told him of what her sister looked like, but in his mind’s eye, he had not expected the beauty above him now. Even the scar gave her a sense of power and control. “Crystal?” he asked in a cracked voice.
“You know my name,” she said, “Well, that’s a start, and you are?”
“Kyto,” he replied, “could I have some water, please?” He struggled to speak.
A man on the far side walked over to the bed and placed a canteen on his lips. He greedily tried to drink the water again but spilt most of it down his chest. His throat starting to feel better though.
“So, tell me something about yourself, Kyto.” She said.
“What would you like to know?” he asked.
“Where are you from, and what brought you here with my little sister?” she said.
Kyto didn’t think there was much point in lying, so he relayed the basics of how he and Tabs had met to the point of ending up in the town. He skipped a few details about the backpacks being stashed, but he did not lie. The woman did not interrupt him once and allowed him to speak. When he had finished, she looked at him and asked, “So you and Tabs are together?”
He had never even considered it because it had just happened, but yeah, they were, and it was serious; they did everything, shared everything, and loved each other. “As close to being married as you can be without being.” He said.
“You know I am Crystal. What else do you know about me?” She asked.
“I am assuming the way you answered, you are Tab's sister Crystal, and you were both kidnapped about nine years ago by a raiding party when foraging. You are slightly older than your sister by a couple of years. You have a child, and Tabs was sold at the slave market in Scarshot, and that is the last time you saw each other. Tabs has not gone into too much detail about her past as I think it still pains her." He finished.
Kyto could see that her eyes looked like they had tears forming. She took a deep breath, steadied herself, then turned and started walking away. “Keep an eye on him, ensure he has water if he needs it, and get him some pain tonic.” She said to the man as she walked out of the room.
“Where is Tabs?” he asked the man as Crystal left. The man looked at Kyto and opened his mouth; his tongue had been cut out, and when he went to speak, only a muffled sound came out. No wonder Crystal was happy with him listening to her backstory and what he said. He could not repeat it to anyone.
The man poured a yellow liquid into a glass and held it to his lips. It smelt foul and tasted worse. It did not take long, though, for the effects of the tonic to start working, and his limbs felt lighter and stopped throbbing to the same degree. His breathing felt easier, and his chest less painful. He allowed the relief of the tonic to take him and once again soon fell back to sleep.
Crystal returned to her room, where Tabs was lying on her bed. She had propped her up with soft cushions and covered her with her blankets. She had bathed the injuries she had sustained and even stitched a cut above her eye carefully with some nylon wire. She was still as beautiful as she remembered, even with the dark bruises on her face. She never thought in a million years that she would see her sister again after that day in Scarshot when she was sold.
∆∆∆
Crystal had sobbed each night for a month after Tabs had gone. The bastard raider Brian, with whom she had the child, had kept her locked in a cage most of the time; it had been about eight feet square. Their son, whom he named; ‘Kong’, was kept in the cage with her. She only had a few blankets and belongings to try and look after him.
The raiding group had been in an old basketball hall for several months. On the two long sides of the hall, there was the standard tiered seating for fans, which many of the raiders in the group had selected their areas, which they hung in in their smaller groups. The cages had been built behind one of the ends of the court, and in the middle of the court, a large fire had been set, which they used for cooking around the sides and heading towards the other end of the hall, tables and chairs had been dragged in and setup where the raiders would feast. The original parquet flooring that would have looked immaculate in its day had been torn up and used for burning on the fire, leaving a dirty grey concrete floor beneath.
Crystal had been given food and water, but their life was a misery apart from that. They were allowed out three times a day to go outside, and whenever they did, they were under the watchful eye of the woman, Meg, known as ‘Matriarch’. She was an absolute bitch of a woman and enjoyed inflicting pain, which she would do at the first signs of dissent. She carried a thick metal chain and had no issues hitting any of the women with it if she decided they had stepped out of line.
She had lived in the same conditions for four years, hoping each day that Tabs was having a better life as a slave rather than as a raider's whore. Everything had changed three years ago now. The group had been out on a raid and returned with several new captors. A group of men and women, as usual, more women than men just so the raiders had more sex toys, even though she knew some of the men got used on occasion as well. As always, on returning, the raiders got high on Radstims if they were inclined or drunk on nectar.
Brian, who she had, Kong, too, was the second of the group. He was a sick bastard, and she had watched from her cage on several occasions as he tortured both men and women to death. This would anger Liam, the boss, who was always looking for slave sales and hated losing decent stock. On his return, she had watched from the cage as he got drunk on nectar; he had then decided to visit her.
She hated it when Brian was that bad; he could be even more nasty or violent than normal. He had walked up, unlocked the cage, and flung the door open, falling inside. None of them had any pride, and they would use their pets, as they called them, like feral animals in front of all the others. Several women had been kept in cages like hers, and most of them had been the younger, prettier ones so as not to be abused by all the raiders. The larger caged areas were used for the general captives to stay in, so she had always been grateful for some independence. The cages had been as much for their safety as to keep them imprisoned.
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She had tried to put up some resistance as normal, and he had slapped her until she obeyed. She had eventually given in, laying with her legs open, pulling her underwear to one side for him, but he was so drunk that he remained flaccid. This had sparked rage in him that she had not seen before, and he had hit her in the face. She had pushed him back violently and kicked him off her. Brian had then taken a wild swing at her but completely missed in his drunken stupor.
He had started cursing and swearing at her, slurring his words, and saying he was going to beat her within an inch of her life when Kong, who was just over two at the time, had started crying. Crystal had bent to pick him up and comfort him in her arms. As she had collected him, Brian had grabbed Kong by his tiny arm, dragging him from her grip and violently throwing him out of the cage; Kong had landed awkwardly on his head and hadn’t moved or made a sound.
The next few minutes, she still, to this day, was not aware how she had managed to do what she did, but a rage that had been brewing inside her for the four years she had spent as a captive exploded all at once. She had hurled herself at Brian, biting and scratching and digging her fingernails deep into his cheeks. She was raking his face and leaving seeping wounds. He stumbled back from her frenzied attack and tried to block her attacks as she scratched, kicked, and went to bite him. She had kept at him though pressuring him backwards and eventually leapt at him like a rabid animal and wrapped her legs around him, sinching her legs around his waist.
Brian had eventually managed to get some form back, and he forced his arms up in front of his body in a defensive manner. He pushed her hard away from him as she tried to maintain her grip with her legs and hold on. She eventually had to release her legs and get off him due to the strength in his arms. Brian was not a small man, but as she had released herself from him and as he had pushed her away, he had staggered backwards, losing his balance on the uneven floor, tripping and falling.
She had taken immediate advantage of his mishap and jumped on top of his prone body. Brian had tried to fight her off, but her continued ferocity had been overwhelming. She eventually found his eyes and dug her fingers deep into his sockets, pushing down as hard as she could against his eyeballs with her thumbs while gripping each side of his head. She had witnessed similar performances to prisoners during his torture parties.
Brian had clawed frantically at her hands, trying to release the pressure from his eyes, but the damage was already done; she had felt his eyes puncture under the pressure from her nails and remembered the soft, warm, gelatinous sensation that covered her fingers. She was screaming like a feral animal, and he had wailed, rolling around the floor with blood pouring from his mangled eye sockets. She had stood up and was by no means free of her anger for the man and had continued to punish him, releasing the years of pent-up aggression. Her boot had caught him in his diaphragm, and he had exhaled sharply, the impact knocking the wind out of him. She did not stop, continuing to kick him blow after blow.
That was when Liam showed up. He had been in a backroom with one of his chosen women and came out to see what the commotion was; some of the raiders had been cheering for her, others for the prick now blind on the floor, still shouting for Brian to get up and finish her.
She had seen the boss appear, and her hatred for him was worse than for Brian. Liam was the epitome of evil, and the abuse he had allowed to take place under his guardianship surmounted only what the cruelty of hell could instil. Liam had drawn a knife and come straight for her. His first strike had slashed down at her, and that was where her scar had originated. He had used a stiletto knife with a wavy blade, and it had torn across her face. She was lucky she hadn’t lost her eye in the attack. She could only remember howling and continuing her fierce attack, turning her anger onto him. She had dodged and kicked and punched, and her reactions, thankfully, had been much faster than his attacks, so she kept away from the blade's wicked edge.
Meg had been sitting on one of the tables near the fire, watching and laughing at the whole scenario unfolding, screaming for Liam to finish her. Crystal eventually started to tire and slowly backed up towards where Meg sat. The area had tables all around, and she had no easy escape route from his relentless onslaught. Liam had been enjoying himself, turning and egging on his followers and approaching her again with his knife.
Her only route away from him was over the table where Meg sat. She turned around, and rather than attacking Liam, she had attacked her. She had leapt at her, grabbing the chain that she used to beat the woman with from where it had been lying on the table next to her, and then, as she forced the woman backwards across the table using her momentum, she wrapped the chain around her neck. She had pulled the now wild-eyed Meg back, dragging her off the table, where she had been cheering for Liam; it had been replaced with a gasping howl. She clearly remembered the cracking sound Meg's neck had made as it had snapped as her head had bounced off the concrete floor at an unnatural angle, and her face came to rest just centimetres from the flames of the fire.
Crystal had immediately untangled herself from her lifeless body and stood staring over the table at Liam. She had managed to secure a weapon, and as Liam moved around the table, she got ready to attack. With the chain, she felt a renewed vigour seeping back into her body. She had swung the chain at him in fear, panic, and an anger-driven frenzy. She felt as if she had immeasurable strength, but her wild swings had been easily dodged by Liam, who had kept his distance to be out of range. She had again been slowly moved backwards towards the side of the hall, and where the tiered stands were situated, Liam had continually stayed just out of range from her wild strikes. All she had been thinking of was all the pain and suffering she had felt from their hands, the pure hatred she had for him, and the lost love she had felt for Kong, seeing his lifeless body lying by the cage on the cold concrete floor.
She had eventually managed to land a blow as Liam had stepped in to slash at her. It had caught him on the side of his body and sent him staggering backwards, cursing at her. Liam had then seen red and charged in rage directly at her, ignoring that she had the chain in her hands. She had instinctively jumped sideways, avoiding his wild charge, and as he went by, she had swung the chain with all her strength. Luck was on her side that day as she had caught him with a freak strike. The tip of the chain flicked out at the fastest and most lethal part of its arc, like the tip of a whip, struck him on the rear of his head. His momentum had carried him forward a few more paces, and then he had fallen towards the first tier of the stand. Blood oozing from the open gash at the rear of his skull.
The knife had been released from his grip as he had stumbled and put his hands out to stop his fall, and she had not wasted any time waiting for him to try and get up; she had grabbed it off the floor, jumping onto his back and burying the knife into his neck to its handle. The blade's tip had sunk right through with the ferocity of the strike and poked out of the other side, sending jets of warm blood spraying as she had gone straight through his artery. His body slumped forward, all resistance gone, splayed over the seats. She had withdrawn the knife with a grunting effort, and blood had instantly begun to pool beneath the seat. It was flowing so freely from his sustained wound.
Crystal had then staggered backwards and stood gasping for breath as silence had fallen across the crowd in the immediate aftermath. Then, only moments later, the shouting from the raiders had begun, anger spewing over, and a couple had picked up weapons and started to head towards her from the stands. She had been battered, bruised and bleeding from her face with the coppery taste of blood in her mouth and had just stood there with a chain in one hand and a knife in the other. She must have looked like a demonic beast. Her long red hair flowed around her blood-covered face and clothes and arms, now drenched in the blood of Liam. As the first of the newly angered raiders approached her, she had only one thought in her mind, that she must get to Kong. She had prepared herself for the next assault when one of the raiders had stood up and yelled, “STOP”.
He had walked from where he had been sat, watching the spectacle unfold. Crystal had known him but had never spoken to him during her captivity. He was a large, stocky man but had an athletic look to him and was always quiet compared to many. She knew he could fight as she had witnessed several raiders bouts where they would compete in group tournaments for fun. He nearly always won, and she had previously witnessed him best Liam and Brian. He had stepped forward, stood in front of her with his back to her, and shouted at the top of his lungs.
“You all know the rules, anyone who bests the raid boss in hand-to-hand combat which the boss has started earns the right and position, that rule always has been and always will be the raider's mark. We all saw the boss draw his knife and attack her first; therefore, as of now, we have a new boss,” he then turned to look at Crystal, indicating with his arm raised.
“If anyone breaks that rule, you know the forfeit. You may challenge the boss's rights after the cooldown period of seven days but not before. Anyone breaking the raider's law does so under the sentence of death,” he had stated, tapping the pistol on his hip.
There had been cries of anger, and two raiders had taken it upon themselves to advance on Crystal. They had been immediately silenced by the man who had stepped out. He had drawn the weapon so quickly and not hesitated to pull the trigger, sending two rounds at close range into the chests of both parties.
The adrenaline had eventually started to drain away. From her hyped and feral state, she had slumped exhausted to her knees, taking in the scene of devastation with Liam, Meg and even Brian’s body, all lying prone and lifeless. Brian had succumbed to his wounds bleeding out from his eye sockets, and a massive pool of blood had formed around his head where he had eventually stilled, still with his hands held up towards his face where his grotesque open eye sockets remained. Then, slowly, on her knees, she crawled over to where Kong lay on the floor. She had gently picked him up in her arms before looking to the skies screaming, tears unabashedly flowing down her cheeks, competing with the bloody trails.
Over the next few months, there were challenges, receiving injuries and once a broken arm, although her utter determination had always won through. When she fought, it was as though a demon possessed her. Many raiders had split, either going independent or joining other groups. Others had been killed off out of necessity. The group had dwindled by half overall, and there were now around fifty. They even changed their clan emblem from its previous skull and snake design. The one lasting element that had saved her and been on her side was that she had been part of it and lived it for four years prior. She knew them all better than they had known themselves for the years she had spent observing them from her cage. She knew their routines, behaviours, and expectations.
She had never wanted to be the boss. The guardianship of a raiding gang was a thankless task most of the time, but she had no choice since she had earned it. There was no straightforward way she could stand down either as the rules stated that the boss only ever changes on death. So, she reluctantly continued many of the old traditions. They raided and dealt in slaves.
She had changed some rules. She brought in a council, or trusted members as advisors, the man who had stood up for her on her elevation to the role TJ being her first. There were three of them, TJ, Simon, and Mitch, and combined, they made decisions for the better of the group. If they ever ended with a split vote, then it would be open to the general raiders to decide. Prisoners could be beaten but were never to be crippled or killed like Liam had previously ruled. Although his previous rule had been broken consistently, Crystal was more stalwart in ensuring it was followed. There was value in the living, after all.
There was one rule she had changed immediately No woman was to be locked in a cage as an animal. They had the same rights as the men if they lived with the raiders. Any man or woman found abusing or raping another, other than a general beating, would be punished. Punishments could vary from reduced rations to banishment or death, depending on severity. If you wanted a partner, the expectation was that you earned their respect. Over the next three years since her leadership of the raiding group, the number of raiding women in the group had grown significantly, and they now were nearly 30% women, many drifting across from other groups when they found out that there was a female leader. Several members of her group were in relationships and had captives who had fallen for some of her group.
∆∆∆
Whenever she thought about the whole scenario, it always appeared strange to her that what she had seen from the outside she had become part of, and she didn’t feel bad about it either. She had, but she had come to see it now as just the way of the world. They raided and captured folk and then eventually sold them at the slave market. They currently had about forty-five townspeople captive, which was not quite as many as she had hoped. Their target was fifty. Food and drink weren’t issues, but getting enough fuel was costly. They would have to travel to Scarshot soon to auction off what they had and resupply. It wasn’t the best time of year for it, although several of the captives could raise a fair sum by all accounts, and she wished they had gone a month before the snowfall. They had only captured the latest batch of ten prisoners two days prior. She had spoken to the council prior, and they had all agreed unanimously that without close to fifty, they wouldn’t have been able to make the stacks needed to buy enough fuel for the long winter months and to keep the generators running.
This old hospital had done them well, and it was the third separate cycle now that they had used it, and the captives were kept in half-decent conditions. They were split into various wards, some of which even had old beds. This geographic area didn’t have the township sizes they needed. They may even have to travel West at some point, as pickings have been slimmer over the past few cycles. They knew of two other raiding groups working in this area, and unless they did something soon, the competition would not disappear. Two of the last townships they had hit had already been attacked a couple of days before, leaving them little pickings. They had amicable relationships with some of the other raiding groups, but several were hostile, and they had run-ins with various groups over the years.
Since her reign of guardianship, even though a rarity, there had been the occasional need to enforce capital punishment. If this was necessary, then she was always the one to carry out the execution. The only time this came about was either due to a group member seriously contradicting their rules, usually involving the rape of a captive or if a member of a township fatally injured one of her crew during a raid. Then, she had to lead by example to show the rest of the group it would not be tolerated. She had always carried out the executions herself and would not allow others to do it.
They normally would only take a certain number of townspeople from each location they raided, unlike other groups, which would just murder those whom they deemed unsellable and take all the others. She didn’t see the point in taking them all, as she had explained to the council that it was like killing off your whole herd. You left enough behind for them to grow again, and then the next time you visited, stock levels will have increased. She saw them as Keefir’s in many ways, and it was easier for her to cope with the scenario she found herself in. Believing they were livestock rather than people had helped the mental anguish and hatred she had initially felt. Thinking about it, for a group of raiders, they had become quite civilised, although trading in humans was still the lowest form of scum there was.
Tabs stirred on the bed, moaning, “Hey, little sis,” Crystal said, leaning over and stroking a loose strand of hair that had dropped over her face.
Tabs opened her eyes and stared in utter disbelief at her sister's face, tears flooding her eyes. "You are alive." That is all she managed to say before the tears overtook them both. Crystal leaned forward, hugging her tightly. They stayed for an exceedingly long time sobbing into each other shoulders.