Rainy nights were the best back in the city. Callie loved how the slickened streets lit up under the harsh streetlamps and store windows, painting the normally pitch black street with neon sheens. It was the one time she found the city beautiful.
As Callie took in the slivers of moonlight edging the radio tower, her mind drifted across the globe to her home; there, she knew how many rats lived in each hole in the wall, which takeout places were still open at three in the morning, and the precise volume she could sing along to the radio without her housemates hearing. There, where everything was familiar to her, she knew how to relax.
"Oh, fuck!" The slick metal flooring squeaked under Jason's boots as he slipped. He grunted and steadied himself, while Callie bit back a laugh. Almost. Jason was unimpressed to see humour sparking in her eyes under the dim moonlight.
"Didn't you see the sign? 'Slippery when wet.'" Callie tried to suppress her grin and, upon failing miserably, began circling the catwalk to find a way to the next level. "There was a sign right?" Jason sighed in response. "No? Man, that is a lawsuit waiting to happen. Maybe if you crack your tailbone next time we can sue their asses. Make millions."
Spotting a lowered bit of the platform above, Callie hopped onto the railing and turned back to face the ledge. Jason was frowning at her, eyes wide. "You're kidding, right?"
"Wouldn't dream of it." Callie gave him her best doe-eyes before dragging her body onto the next floor.
Jason's boots scuffed against the metal catwalk as he trudged towards the railing. Each level was more dilapidated than the last, with many missing chunks of walkway replaced with thin boards. Callie wasn't surprised to feel the tower swaying in the heavy winds. It reminded her of the towers she and her friends made of wooden blocks as kids. Each person took a turn removing a block, and if the tower fell afterwards, they lost. What was that shit called again? It sounds like Bingo, doesn't it? But it's not Bingo. That's stupid. Django?
"Are all the towers this hard to climb?" Jason's voice shook as he slowly turned to face Callie, balancing precariously on the bars of the railing. He grasped onto Callie's outstretched arms like they were lifesavers in a storm, his last hope for survival.
"No," Callie grunted as she hoisted Jason onto her level. He scrambled to his feet, clutching the unreliable beams of the tower for support. "Only when it's raining," Callie muttered, a small smile on her face. The radio towers seemed to get worse and worse as they pushed southeast, but Callie preferred to keep that to herself.
They reached the tower's peak in silence, Jason following Callie's movements. She looked over the dwarfed jungle as she caught her breath. Callie didn't exactly approve of Jason's vote to start meddling in the islanders' war, but whenever she stood at the edge of a tower, the cool breeze slicing through the heavy jungle air, Callie didn't bother to think of why. She never thought that standing on a structure that swayed and groaned like it had a hangover could make her feel so safe.
Jason joined her, peering over the edge, his nails raking against the back of his head. "You know, I'm starting to think that climbing these things isn't worth the leverage. Feels like this thing could collapse at any minute."
Callie scoffed. This was exactly why she climbed alone. "Let's see here. These towers get us a better idea of the surrounding area – camps, wildlife, cool wreckages and shit, whatever – we can zip-line, which we planned to do when we booked our trip here anyways, and I get a prime seat to snipe some pirate assholes. But hey, if you've got a better idea, I'm open. " She shrugged.
"It's just…" Jason ran a hand over his face. "I don't want to take any unnecessary risks." His glassy eyes swept over the camp below them, where the red specks on patrol weaved between makeshift shacks lazily. His eyes moved up to the horizon. While Liza and Daisy were accounted for, the rest of their friends were out there somewhere. It hurt to think of Grant. Truth be told, Callie had a bit of a crush on him, but she'd never admit it to her friends. Least of all to Daisy. Callie had been tempted to comfort Daisy, tell her she understood how it felt to lose him, but it was all so wrong. Her feelings only felt more obscene now that he was gone.
Callie closed her eyes, mentally flicking off the switches rerouting her thoughts to emotions. So many movies were about people confronting their demons before reaching a fairy-tale ending, but Callie'd been doing a damn fine job of ignoring her grief so far, and she intended to keep on fighting the good fight. The rest of her friends were still out there. They were alive. If Callie had to hike up a hundred true-to-life Django towers to find them, that was fine by her. That's a Tarantino movie, you twit. What the fuck is it called then? Maybe Jason would know-
Jason was staring at her, a look of intense concentration edging his face. Callie decided her question could probably wait.
He spoke quietly. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize these towers were so fucked up. I wouldn't have asked you to keep doing this if I knew it was so dangerous. I mean, I know you never really agreed to help the Rakyat in the first place, so I just… I just feel like I'm forcing you, and it's not-"
Callie snorted. "Jason, if you say another word, I swear to god I'll jump," she deadpanned, despite the grin on her face. Callie couldn't stand seeing him get all emotional. "I like doing this. It's amazing! Just look at the view for fuck's sake." She threw an arm to gesture at the darkened horizon, the thick clumps of trees underneath it swaying gently in the night. "Besides, I'm probably a hell of a lot safer up here than down in the jungle. It's fine."
Callie cleared her throat and locked eyes with Jason. "To be honest, I've got something much more urgent on my mind."
Jason frowned. "What's up?"
"Stop me if this rings any bells, okay? When I was a kid, we used to make these stupid little block towers."
Even with a silencer to cover the initial blast, it's sometimes hard to miss hearing a bullet whizzing through a man's skull. It all depends on how close they are. If the guy's relatively alone, it's all cool; he won't have enough time to articulate anything beyond a deep gurgling in the back of his throat as blood shoots through his system. Easy in, easy out. If the guy's sitting around a campfire with his buddy, trading epic tales of how that broad couldn't fit him in her mouth without splitting her lip open, he was Jason's game.
Grimacing, Callie watched Jason drive his knife through the neck of the camp's last pirate, dropping the body like cargo. She'd take her degree of separation via rifle any day, thank you very much.
Within minutes, Rakyat poured into the camp. Jason grabbed a jeep while they raided the site. Callie stood, leaving her rifle on the ground. The wind ran its fingers through her hair as she watched the sun peer over the skyline. Pink and gold streaks leaked across the sky, cleaning the inky night from the world. Callie thought the sky was dismal in the city at night, but it looked blacker than an oil spill from the island.
"Ah fuck, I lost." A low voice from behind. Callie spun around to see a lean figure standing just a few feet away. His hands held something to his mouth, clicking it a few times before a small flame appeared above a lighter, illuminating his scarred face. He smiled into the flames. "Better, much better," he muttered. "My old lighter was a piece of shit." Callie gaped at him. What the fuck was Vaas doing here?
He lit his cigar and tucked the lighter in his back pocket, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke in Callie's face. "See, I bet myself you'd have all those assholes," he gestured to the camp, "dead before sunrise. What do you Americans say, eh? Close but no cigar." Vaas chuckled.
How long has he been waiting there? Callie hadn't heard anything. No cars, nothing. Was he alone? Why did he wait till she'd finished killing all his men before coming out? Callie was torn between the urge to scream and the desire to jump right off the tower. Instead, she smiled through tight lips. "Straight nicotine, huh? Are you trying to kick one habit using another? Because I hear that's not the best way to go about it."
Vaas smiled. "You seem nervous, my friend. Why? There is no need." He took a step forward. Callie tried to step back, but ended up just pressing herself against the railing. She let her eyes flick to the ground below them. No cars or pirates. Vaas was actually here alone. His smile turned into a grin. "Don't worry, chica. I'm not here to hurt you."
Callie scoffed. "Is that right?"
Vaas' dark eyes gave her a quick once-over. He flicked his cigar away and raised his hands from his sides, palms up.
"Promise."
Yeah fucking right.
Callie drew her pistol just as the muzzle of Vaas' pressed into her skull.
"Hermana, unless you want your pretty little brains to be gone with the wind, I suggest you hand that over." Callie's grip tightened on her gun. Thoughts raced through her head. Vaas was going to kill her right fucking now, and then he would kill Jason and the girls, and Callie would be left spilling her guts off the edge of this flimsy goddamned tower and Jenga, the game was called motherfucking Jenga, and if one block fell they all did, and then everyone would lose-
The click of Vaas' pistol seemed to shake her skull. Callie swallowed, and then dropped the gun into Vaas' open palm. He tucked it in the back of his belt and, surprisingly, holstered his own pistol as well. Closing the distance between them, Vaas smiled sweetly. "Smart."
Callie didn't bother hiding the venom in her voice. "What do you want?" Other than our heads on pikes, that is.
"You and your friend Jason are working for the Rakyat, right? So I thought, hey, who better to ask for information than, well," Vaas held his arms out towards her.
Callie almost laughed. "Excuse me? Do you really think I'm gonna help you kill Jason?"
Vaas started back in shock. "What? No, no, I don't wanna kill him, hermana!" His grin was carnal. Hungry. "Just keep an eye on him is all."
"Oh, is that right?" The fucking nerve of Vaas. Callie wanted to spit in his face. "Well, okie-dokie then, I don't see why not. What you wanna know, boss?" Vaas actually laughed, clapping a hand on her shoulder amiably. Callie stiffened. She watched as he drew his machete and began stroking it idly.
"Here's the deal, chica: this war's been going on a long time. Too long. The Rakyat haven't changed in the slightest. They always find some ballsy person to become their new hero, some," he trailed off, running his fingers along the blade, searching for the right word. "…vigilante, like your friend Jason. The Rakyat want to make them into the perfect warrior. Then-" Vaas clapped his cheek, making a popping sound with his mouth. "Then I kill them. Rinse and fucking repeat.
"I want something different this time. Gonna switch up my tactics. You following?" His eyes flicked up to Callie, watching her expectantly. Callie stared back.
"…By not killing Jason?" she guessed.
Vaas grinned, nodding as if to himself. "I'm gonna let him be the hero this time. He will win. Jason will rise," Vaas clenched a fist in the air, his voice rising theatrically, "and crush my men. I want the Rakyat to be so, so close to victory, I want them to taste it, proclaim Jason as the perfect warrior. Then…" Vaas pointed his fingers at Callie like a gun and fired. "Dead. Hope goes bye-bye." Callie cocked an eyebrow. So…you do want me to kill him. "Think about it, hermana! They'll be tired. They won't want to fight anymore. The Rakyat will submit!" Vaas laughed shortly. "But, I need your help."
Vaas' eyes glinted under the rising sun. Callie gripped the railing behind her, scraping off rust with her fingernails. "So, what makes you think I'm game with helping you kill my friend?"
"Glad you asked!" Vaas' eyes lit up as he spoke. "Because, Caroline, if you don't help me, I'll just kill him now. The Rakyat always do the same fucking thing. They will find some new kid to be their shining beacon of hope. If you want, I will wait and play with that one instead."
Callie was about done with this nonsense. "Yeah, well, thanks for the offer, asshole, but I don't think I'm gonna be shacking up with your gang anytime soon." Vaas said nothing, an amused smile glued to his face. Slowly, he stepped to the side, no longer blocking Callie from the ladder.
Hesitantly, Callie slung her rifle and pack over her shoulders. Why was he letting her go? Callie stepped over to the ladder, eyes fixed on Vaas, part of her mind sure he'd jump on her halfway across. But he didn't. Why? It doesn't matter. He's fucking crazy. Callie turned, lowering herself to the first rung.
"It's the Neck, ah?"
She froze.
"What?" Callie looked up at Vaas' cheerful face. He hadn't made a move to stop her.
"The Neck's Diner. That's where you and Jason are holed up, yeah? Maybe an hour southwest of here. Two sentries posted, one in the eastern mountains and one by some cave just north of there. Some nights, at 3 AM sharp, you guys all meet in the little shack with the green roof." Vaas tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I wanna know what goes on in there."
Callie's mouth was dry. He'd been watching them. For how long? Vaas just stood there, delighting at her speechlessness.
Callie refused to look back as she climbed down. Once she was in the jungle, in the blind spots of the radio tower, she ran.