Chapter 2 of my little slice of hell, I hope you're enjoying it so far. I'm getting quite a lot of joy out of this to be honest, letting my inner hopelessly lost and angry soul out for those of you reading. A big shout out and massive thanks to those friends of mine who are reading my story, who are also loyal followers of my other fic, Love isn't always easy. I love you guys, and thank you for your continued support. It's all for you, darlings.
Disclaimer: I do not own Skins, I just borrowed the characters. I do not own the rights to The Last of Us, I just borrowed their story. Oh, and purchased a copy of their game.
RADIO BROADCASTS:
The number of confirmed deaths has reached into the millions... The President of the United States has declared a state of emergency... "There were, bodies... lining the streets..."... Panic spread worldwide, as a leaked report from the World Health Organization showed that the latest vaccination tests have failed... Reports suggest many countries are placing their remaining citizens under the care of Martial Law... All residents are required to report to their designated quarantine zones... Riots have continued for the sixth consecutive day as food and medical rations hit an all time low... A group calling themselves The Butterflies, have claimed responsibility for the latest attacks... Their public charter calls for the return of all branches of government... Demonstrations broke out following the public execution of four more alleged members of the Butterflies... 'Rise with us. Remember, when you are lost in the blankness, look for the glimmer of color... Believe in the Butterflies.'
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SUMMER: 16 YEARS LATER.
I wake with a start, and am drenched in sweat from head to toe. My over-worn ripped and faded green and brown plaid shirt smells of something; and it ain't roses. I had the dream again, the one where I'm standing over my mother's corpse and she starts to wake, biting into the air and rising to her feet with the sound of her bones cracking and snapping with each movement she makes. It never fails, I dream about her almost every night. No matter how far I run, no matter how many things I've seen, no matter what I've done; I still see her. I still dream about her, about that night. I catch my breath, I must have been holding it for some time while I slept. I stretch my sore limbs and creak my back as I sit on the edge of the dirt stained mattress I call a bed; and move my neck from side to side to get the kink out. I look down at my legs, and I see another rip forming in the knee of my jeans. I'll have to find some duct tape at one of the trading stations later. I saunter out of bed, and make my way silently into the kitchen, where my breakfast of champions awaits. I pour myself a glass of the finest home-grown whisky on the market out here and shoot it back into my stomach in one swift motion. I've become a pro at this over the last decade. As I close my eyes and relish in the warm, tingling feeling of the liquor coating the back of my throat, there is a quiet knock at the door; shortly followed by another louder one when I pour myself another glass.
"I'm coming." I half groan, half shout, and down my shot before walking to the front door and letting my visitor in. I open the door, and immediately turn around and walk back into my flat; unknowingly aware to my visitor of their presence.
"Oi, nice to see you too Blondie. How's your mornin'?" He walks right up to my table and pours himself a glass of my whiskey, before downing it the same as I did while wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
"What happened to your face, James." I ask dryly. I noticed it when he walked in, a great big shiner under his right eye. He smirks, shakes his head, and pours himself another shot before responding "Ain't nothin' babes. Just got into a little tussle is all"
"Where were you, James."
"West End District." He replies coolly.
"West End?! We were supposed to go toget-"
"We, had a drop to make" He cuts in. "And, I specifically remember you sayin' you wanted 'be left alone."
I shake my head at him and walk over to the sink, dab the cleanest rag I have into some water, and hand it over to him. He takes it from me, devoid of eye contact, and places it over his bleeding cheek. I pace around the flat, trying to calm my nerves. This is the second time this week that he has made a drop without me, and this time he returns looking like he got jumped by a fucking Rhino. We're supposed to stick together. That's how you survive out here, skill and teamwork. That's how it's always been with us. And when he goes off on these little martyr missions, he puts us and our business at risk.
"So" I begin, after taking a moment to inhale a long breath. "Give me one guess, the deal went tits up and the client made off with our merchandise?" I hear him let out an exceptionally annoyed and condescending laugh.
"Deal went off without a problem, babes. We have enough ration cards 'ere to last us months, easy." He opens his arms out wide, as if trying to make his point clearer.
"Explain the eye then." I say, unfazed by his recent attempt at one-upping me.
He sighs, and does as I order, explaining "I's on my way back 'ere, 'n I got jumped by a couple'a fookin cocks, alright? Got a good hit in yeah, but that's 'bout it."
This upsets me, seeing my best... seeing my... seeing Cook hurt like this. But I don't show it, I can't show it. So instead, I let out a pissed off sounding sigh, as I snatch up the wet rag from him and press it against his cheek; carefully dabbing the blood away.
"Did you find out who they were?" I say, in between a few quick dabs and examining looks.
"They were a couple'a fuckers, look." He resists now, pulling away from me and the wet cloth pressed firmly against his cheek.
"The point is babes, they were sent, yeah?"
"By fucking who!" I screech.
"You know bloody well, who; Blondie. Fookin Mandy."
I look at him in utter disbelief. Mandy has been on our smugglers team for almost two years now. She is quite useful, being fluent in a few different languages so when we do deals with foreigners, we have our own personal translator.
"Our Mandy?" I ask foolishly. Cook decides not to reply to my stupidity, and instead says:
"She knows we're comin, luv. Prolly finks she's gonna get us first so-"
"I don't fucking believe this!" I shout, throwing the cloth down into the sink forcefully.
After she ripped us off on our last deal, she is hardly the one who has the right to send people after us. She'd still be in the trafficking ring if it wasn't for Cook. She was another one of our jobs way back when, and Cook had to deliver her to some slum lord in the projects who bought her for 5 ration cards. The guy was a creep, and Mandy wasn't his only... piece of property; if you catch my meaning. So Cook decided to spring the girls from their cells, let Mandy free, and go after said slum boss. It wasn't an easy feat, the guy was well guarded. But, of course, when Cook and I are together; we can do anything. We wiped him and his moody good-for-nothing henchmen out in under 10 minutes, luckily for us he wasn't much of an asset to the bigger groups; or we would be dead right now. After we cleared the place out, Mandy had stayed behind, pleading with us to let her join our little black market family, begging Cook and I saying she could be of use to us. Apparently she had no where to go, no home to find, no family left. Such is the case for everyone left on this godforsaken planet. But, Cook being the big softy that I know him to be, convinced me that her skills with language could be of some use. And they were, that much I admit. But the whole time we did deals together she was making her own on the side, cutting into our profit margin. With Cook and I, there is no need for that. We do even splits, and take care of our own. So the fact that Mandy was doing it, made our blood boil to the point of evaporation.
Cook walks over to me then, and places a firm grip on my shoulders.
"I know where she's at, babes." He half whispers into my ear.
"Fuck that, you do." I argue. She is smart, and as sneaky as a snake. You sure as hell can't find her if she doesn't want to be found; I know that much.
"Old warehouse, Section 37" He replies confidently.
The blood in my veins runs hot then, my body is on fire. She has the fucking nerve to try and hurt Cook? Or worse, kill him? I'm putting an end to this right now.
"I'm ready now." I spit at him. He sends me a sly smirk before making his way to the door. "Oh, I'm wiv ya on that, luv."
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We make our hasty exit from my flat, and walk down the streets towards our stash house. It's guarded by a few of our men, and it's well hidden from any military personnel. We don't have to ask around much, people will do just about anything for one or two of those ration cards. As we mingle around, getting more and more answers that we need to point us in the right direction to Mandy, I notice some guards pushing out some civilians out onto the road. They make the people get down on their knees and place their hands behind their heads, as the soldiers scan each person one by one.
"More and more of 'em are getting sick." Cook starts.
"More and more of them are leaving the zones." I reply dryly.
"Yeah well, can't blame 'em can ya? 'Tis fookin boring here, nuffin' to do or see. Remember when you could just go out and sit in the grass, kiss a pretty girl under a tree on top of a blanket?"
Cook's memory is much more vivid than mine, not only because he is a few years older, but because he lived a wider life than I did. He's told me stories, of all the parties he had gone to, all the girls he had shagged in various places throughout the UK, he told me how he rode a motorcycle once, and drove a car many times before. I can't help but feel envious of him, because I never got to do those things. I don't know what it would be like to go to a party, I've never had a chance to even kiss a pretty girl. In this world, there is no place for romance. I've never known the feeling of riding free on a motorcycle, and I had only driven a car once because my mom was drunk and couldn't drive home. Hardly the glamorous life compared to the one owned by James Cook.
As we walk by I hear one of the guards' scanners beep positive for the infected, and a man starts screaming. I turn, and the man has risen to his feet and is about to make a mad dash before a soldier behind him quickly draws his side arm and puts a bullet into the back of the guy's head. I wince at the site, I've never been much for the explosive reaction of the skull when a bullet enters it.
I'm brought out of my thoughts a few minutes and side alleyways later by a group of guys, clearly some of Mandy's thugs, hollering in our direction.
"Let us through." I speak as confidently as I can.
"You need to turn around, if you know what's good for you."
Cook pipes in. "Eh, mate. Our beef ain't wiv you, yeah? We just wanna talk to Mandy."
The man takes a few more intimidating steps closer to us, before replying harshly:
"Turn the fuck around, boy. Leave, now."
Cook balls his fists in anger, before replying sharply "We ain't goin' anywhere wiv out Mandy, you get me?"
"You little punk!" The man spits, his two friends advancing on us now from behind him as he bellows out at us like a chimp on steroids. "Get the fuck outta here before I bash you're little girlfriend's skull in!"
Cook laughs profusely at this, and replies to the guy, his voice dripping with sarcasm "Ain't no man gonna make Naomikins here feel alright, even if they stapled their tongue to her clit and stood on a cement mixer!"
The guy looks at me then, goes to say a snide remark when I've lost all my patience.
"Fuck this." I snap, and pull out my side arm.
BANG! BANG!
I shoot buddy square in the face. Good luck with that open casket, bitch. The man's henchmen go to draw their weapons, but Cook is too quick. Another two shots are fired, and the boys drop like flies. He and I slide our guns back into their holsters at the same time, and I slip my arm into his as we start walking again.
"Mandy" Cook smirks, a toothy grin plastered on his face. " 'Ere we come, darlin'."
Mandy is so in for it, just sayin. Thank you for reading, please feel free to review. Those of you who know me, know how much I love reviews.
xoV
