The rain fell in immense splats as she walked down the cramped street of her home planet. Once maybe twice in every ten years it would rain but when it would it would practically drown out everything for days. That was exactly what happened to be going on as Wylie walked down the street. Puddles the size of small children's wading pools covered the street from one side to the other as purple lighting raced across the sky turning everything a sickly shade of ultra violet. The thunder followed immediately like a whip crack right over the street. The packed street momentarily paused scattering underneath any overhang they could find. Wylie grinned out of the corner of her mouth and jammed her hands further into the pockets of her duster. She tilted her head downwards feeling the tendrils of her sodden hair snake their way around her neck. She looked to the side and stepped off the side of the street coming in front of the bar. The dim red lights that shone from the antiquated glass windows of the store front shimmed with the wash of liquid drops that trailed down them. She grinned again looking up and noting the lack of whores on the balcony
Guess the rain tends to be bad for the ol' prostitution business.
She stepped to the wooden platform and off the muddy street her boots making a small squelching sound and tugged on the rain swollen front door. Wylie stepped inside shaking her hair slightly to get the moisture out of it.
Not that it matters anyways, I'm soaked through to the fucking skin.
She looked down at the dripping black duster, and tank she was wearing. The only part of her that wasn't drenched were her boots and pants, the pants partly because they ran high on the vinyl side; and the sixteen buckle boots that marched themselves halfway up her calves were made of leather. She moved farther into the bar looking at the patrons all huddled over their steaming beverages of choice. Some with whores on their laps and some in the far corner playing a game of billiards. She looked over to the small boned prostitute who was now engaged in ramming a minor's grubby hand down the front of her equally dirty bodice. Wylie shrugged keeping her head down and moving over to the bar leaving a wake of watery footsteps behind her.
Any way to keep warm I suppose.
She pulled a metal stool up to the bar and sat down pulling her duster off her back and laying it over the back of the closest chair. The water plopped off of it miserably matching the rhythm of the water that was slowly rolling off the bridge of her nose. She cracked her neck feeling the vertebra crackle audibly and shrugged her shoulders. The holster that was carrying her 50 caliber revolver was really cutting into her skin. It was an antique. She knew what with it being a revolver and carrying ammunition; but she liked the feel of it and didn't have to worry about pesky little problems like dead cells or loss of plasma. It had started out life as a 45' she had it modded to carry 50'cal, had the barrel bored out, put a hydraulic shock absorbent system so the bastard thing didn't tear your arm off and added armor piercing hollow points just for jollies.
In like a dime, out like a pizza.
Besides, a bullet would kill you just a dead as a plasma burst and the best yet is the fact that most armor and persons trying to kill you had not had to deal with the ballistic threat of good ol' fashioned bullets in oh what a century or so? So it did come as some surprise when she pulled it out. It made her some what of an oddity though, the woman with the hand gun.
Sounded like a cheesy porn/western. She chuckled to herself.
Ever since the government had gone belly up on Vestuvia and they couldn't afford to protect its citizens anymore they had given over to a state of Marshall Law.
Which means boys and girls, Wylie thought to herself, that Vestuvia has become very much like the ol' west that everyone glamorizes from ancient earth. Minus the horses of course I don't think I could deal with all the poop lying everywhere or for that matter the cheesy outfits.
She reached over and dug into the pocket of her duster pulling out a battered pack of cigs and a credit chip. She plunked chip down on the bar and reached for the pack of matches laying beside her. She popped one on the bar and touched the smoldering end to her cigg. Leaning back on the chair she blew out the smoke in lazy rings. Leting her mind wander over the past few months.
She had taken on a job as a mechanic, trying to fit in as much as humanly possible. Trying to forget all the fucked up things that had happened to her in her past. It paid dick but it got her by and it seemed to calm her to give her some kind of routine in her day. No one had really taken notice of her a shine job. On the planet it wasn't really uncommon; what with all the minors on the planet.
"Havin' anything to drink?" The voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
"Yeah, bottle of Vestuvia black label, top shelf, don't try to shit me with any of that rat gut home brew poured into a black label bottle; I know the difference."
"No mam wouldn't do that to ya. Run a reputable business here." He said as he wiped one of the glasses with a rag.
"Well as reputable as your business can be." She said with a chuckle looking around.
"Ya look familiar to me…know you from somewhere?"
Wylie looked down to the bar taking another deep breath off of her cigg. It lit up her face with a reddish glow. "Nope. Haven't seen me around." She said menacingly.
The bartender put up his hands as if to ward off a mock blow. "Far be it from any of my business to pry, but you look like an old friend of mine. As a matter of fact if I didn't know the difference I could swear I was looking at her carbon copy."
"Who's your friend mister?" Wylie said lowly.
"Andram, Andram Wylie." The bartender said quietly as he placed the bottle in front of her.
"I used to go to school with her. A looker she was; went off and married some doctor I hear. Had a few younguns' a girl and a boy.
"Don't know em'." She said quietly sipping the whisky and feeling it burn her throat...
"Now you can fool some people miss, but not all. I did meet with her and the kids. Seen em' round in town and bumped into her a couple times myself. You're her daughter." The bartender said quietly and looked her squarely in the eye.
"What if I am?"
"Girl, what in the hell has happened to you?" Not that I don't know about what happened to your brother and folks talk about what happened to your daddy to this day. But you, you seem to be a mystery, no one knows just what happened to you.
"Things that I try really hard to forget about."
"Try you may miss, but the past has a real bad way of comin' up and bitin' you in the ass when you least expect it."
She sipped quietly on her whiskey and flung her damp hair out of her eyes. "You're preaching to the fuckin quire."
"Got a shine job and all, lookin' by the size of that gun your carryin' Id say you were in some deep shit little girl."
"Just got out of some as a matter of fact."
"Well, came to the wrong place to stay out of it if you don't mind me saying so."
"You know something I don't?"
"Nope not a thing, he said quietly. Just seems that you daddy had a lot of powerful friends who were none too happy to see you sent away. They wanted to take matters into their own hands. They wanted you dead before you ever left the planet."
"Seems they didn't get their whish." She said slowly running the warm liquor around in her mouth. "Sometimes," she said quietly "I wish that they did..."
"So girl, you got a name."
Wylie grinned looking to the bartender. "Nope, girl will do just fine for now."
"You've been here for what three months now?"
"Bout that." Wylie said pulling on her cigg and blowing out the smoke. "How'd ya know?"
"People talk. What with the killing in the streets and the violence some things never change. People still love to gossip, lately the gossip's been about you."
Wylie chuckled amused.
"Let me guess, I'm invincible right? The big, bad prison bitch that will steal your children in the middle of the night and sacrifice them to some kind of pagan god."
"No, gossip says that people are lookin' to kill you. Your daddy's friends know your back in town."
She looked the bartender in the eye rivulets of water running down her face. "So tell me friend, who they are and what do they look like?" She said slowly as she sipped her whiskey casually.
