Disclaimer:  Character is the sole intellectual property of USA Films, Universal Studios, Jim and Ken Wheat, and David Twohy.  Any use herein is for entertainment purposes only.

I woke up screaming.  Again.  The nightmares came more often.  The old bitch that ran this rathole of boarding house was threatening to kick me out because of them—surprised she had the nerve.  She twitched the whole time and wouldn't look me in the eye, but she'd threatened all the same.  My fellow boarders must have been getting vocal about me disturbing their sleep.

It was this place.  Eden 12.  A misnomer if I ever heard one.  The whole damned planet was hot and dusty.  Nothing grew here.  Fucking sun shined 21 of the 26 hours that made up a day here.  Eden, my ass.  Head out of town—if you could call six ramshackle buildings that looked like a good gust of wind would blow them over, a town—in any direction and I might as well have been back on that hunk of rock.  All that was missing was about a million ravenous sons-of-bitches, sitting around sharpening their teeth, waiting for the suns to go down.

Even though the sun wasn't up yet, the room was already an oven.  So much for the central air I was promised in the brochure.  Of course, everything else around here was such a paradise; I was willing to overlook it. 

The battered clock on my dresser/table/catch-all-for-anything-requiring-a-flat-surface proved what I'd already known.  It was a good four hours before my shift in the mines started.  It was at least two hours before the landlady served up that tasteless, lumpy mess she called oatmeal.  Unfortunately, there was no way I was getting back to sleep.  Didn't matter much.  I didn't need much sleep anyway. 

I tossed the wrinkled sheet off and rolled out of bed.  I splashed some water on my face and felt it dry in the stifling air before I could even grab my towel off the rack.  Then I pulled on a pair of shorts and an old shirt.  I hung my goggles around my neck without thinking.  Once I strapped my knife to my ankle and slipped another one into a sheath built into my shorts at the small of my back, I was ready to go.  Might as well get a run in while it was still reasonably cool.

My usual route took me north, away from the mines.  Light spilled out of the doorway of the company recreation center, forming a rectangular patch on the dusty ground.  I could smell the alcohol and cigarette stink of the place ten feet before I jogged pass the open doorway.  Even though it was the most popular spot in town, it was pretty dead right now, what with the current shift still on duty and most of the next shift sleeping the sleep of the beat-down and the exhausted.  A quick glance through the doorway revealed a tired whore—no doubt the only one still awake, hoping that the lack of competition would make up for her obvious age and ill-use—sharing a desultory game of cards and a cup of coffee with the bartender.  The local medic was asleep at her regular table.  I hoped for her sake that no one lit a match anywhere near her.  She was a hardcore drunk, though she was responsible enough that she usually didn't start her heavy drinking until fairly late in the day.  Of course, this place was lucky to have a medic at all, so nobody complained.  They just made sure they only went to her after she got her morning shakes under control and before she cracked open the second bottle of Scotch.

Once the recreation center was behind me, it was darker than a merc's heart.  That was okay, though.  Even with the nightmares, I liked the dark.  I always have.  The dark comforted me after beatings when I was a kid, growing up in the various foster homes I'd been placed in.  And when I'd finally had enough of that sweaty, fat bastard pawing me in my last foster home, it hid me as he walked pass.  The last trip to my bedroom that he ever took, as it turned out.  Even at twelve, I'd been damned good with a knife.  Later, the dark protected me from the street gangs that roamed like packs of wild dogs.  Yeah, I liked the dark, especially after I got that illegal shine job that made my surroundings seem almost as bright as day.

The sun was just rising over the horizon as I jogged back into town.  I wiped at the sweat that ran freely down my face and pulled my goggles up over my eyes.  The bright light of day, even filtered through hard, dark plastic of my lens did nothing for the look of the place.  Dirty men and women, just coming off their shift, mingled with slightly cleaner ones, getting ready to start theirs.  Cacophonous music and rough, raucous laughter spilled from the recreation center.  Amazing the difference a couple of hours could make.

"Jack!" 

I looked to my left and acknowledged the greeting with a slight wave before continuing on towards the boarding house.  Time to grab a shower and something to eat before I head off to the mines.  Long pass time to start planning on how I was going to get off this rock.  Eden, my ass.