The ABC's of Perfect Mistakes

Chapter Two: B is for Bullet

Down a dead-end alley a dark-haired girl stands in front of a trash can watching her red jacket, red socks, ID pass and her back-up communicator burn in the red flames. Years ago she jumped with glee when she got her ID pass naming her an official Krimzon Guard. Her hair was shorter than, cut to a blunt bob tinted slightly green at the tips. She thought it looked cool, even Amberly agreed with her. Now as she looked at her melting face, Parker couldn't help but smirk at the burning plastic and how foolish she used to be.

"I love the smell of burning Krimzon Guard in the morning." The man chuckled.

She glared at him. "That was my favourite jacket."

"Build a bridge and get over it Parker," The man said capping the fire with the trash lid. "We all had to do it."

Parker sighed. She knew after all, the man, Torn, was right. They all burned their uniforms a long time ago and now it was her turn. She did wish that Torn had more than a thin cotton t-shirt for her to wear. What she really wanted was a near pair of underwear, a new bra, a hot shower and a soft bed to sleep in. He motioned for her to come inside with a jerk of his head. She sighed and followed after him.

Everything about the Underground was new to her, she felt like a baby. She'd seen everything from simple paper cuts to a man with his face burned off, melted away thanks to an explosion at one of the factories in the Industrial Section. She watched the man die in agony. She listened to the men argue about how they should bring down the Baron; she also listened to the few women whisper about undercover agents and leaks in the system. She never thought she would be a part of the movement, especially after all the shit she'd seen and done. All these people, to Parker at least, seemed otherworldly, Gods almost. She could never be on their level of goodness and righteousness.

She watched Torn walk past the bunk beds, giving small nods or mumbling a soft hello to a sleepy agent. Parker learned quickly over the past week and a half to keep her head down, stay quiet and don't touch anything. Everyone knew who she was, she was famous about the Underground and the city. When she told Amberly this, another agent, a man who was cleaning his gun, chuckled and told her not to confuse fame with being notorious. After that she kept to herself, doing light cleaning, reading healing books and resting. Torn informed her, a week after joining the Underground, that it was time she started pulling her weight, it was time for her to get back into the game.

Torn rolled out a map and smoothed it flat. Parker leaned over the map looking at the red marked places, all of them Krimzon Guard safe houses or strongholds. Parker smirked as she ran her fingers over the Bazaars, word had spread to that section that she was a part of the rebellion now. Lena told her that she saw a couple Drake Family flags fluttering in the wind, high above the Bazaar or in windows.

"So," Torn said motioning to the map. "Anything you want to add?"

"Red marker please," Parker said holding out her hand; Torn dropped it in her open palm. "The KG still has small strong holds in the Slums," She circled a couple of houses. "Most of them are empty expect for the rare KG who may or may not stay the night. They're mostly used for watching the Underground, looking for patterns and trapping dealers." She circled a larger block closer to the Water Slums. "Here is a brothel," She wrinkled her nose. "Actually, it's not a brothel… it's worse."

"How?" Torn asked leaning over the map.

"Think children, little girls and boys getting raped every night. Women used as property sold like yakcows to the highest bidder. There are lots of drugs there too, almost everyone is addicted to something or multiple things. Only privates and newbies go there, I've also seen some higher up officers go there too." She pointed at a block near the stadium. "This is another whore house. It's very fancy, lots of people around Haven go in there to spend time with Shay's women but it's expensive."

"Are the rest of the places on the map good?"

She nodded. "The Krimzon Guard live everywhere in the city, some even live in the Slums."

Torn sighed and leaned against the table. "There's nothing we can do today. Go upstairs and get cleaned up." He wrinkled his nose. "You haven't showered since you got here."

Parker rolled her eyes but followed the orders of her new Commander. She took the stairs behind the curtains to the emergency ward, ignoring the pleas from the dying soldiers. She took the stairs two at a time, running her hand along the peeling wallpaper before reaching the second floor. She'd been up here only twice. Once, when Torn took her up here on the grand tour of the house and again when he sent her upstairs –she went to the small library to read. She read more about the Precursor legends and the battles with the Hora-Quan. She passed Torn's room, painted with a giant T on the door, plus the words: stay out. The second room was filled with clothing. Three piles: women, men and children. She went straight for the women, picking out a white tank top and a brown vest. She fished around for socks, throwing the holey ones to the floor or tossing them in the trash. She found a black pair among the men's clothing, they went over her thighs and snapped into place against her skin. After ten minutes of searching, she found a utility belt, black boots and a red scarf.

For some reason the red scarf had become a symbol of hope for the resistance. Parker found it weird they made a red scarf their symbol, it felt like they were waving a blood soaked flag for their loved ones; the ones they lost to the Krimzon Guard or at the hands of the guard. Either way, she wrapped it around her left wrist and tucked the short pieces into its' self. She pulled her hair into a ponytail as she walked down the stairs, tying it tight as Torn motioned to the table.

"Communicator, security pass and tracker."

"Same old crap." She asked sliding the communicator on her belt, she pocketed the pass and glared at the tracker. It had to be Lena's design of course. All her trackers had a flare to them, something special about them as if she made them by hand. She picked up her tracker, a small bird in flight on a curved piece of a metal. A navel ring. She rolled her eyes, she'd bet that Amberly's was a bird bracelet and Lena's was a cuff on her ear. It was something that would stay on them, no matter where they went. She unhooked her old one, a simple red jewel and slid the new one in. "So, where'd you get the passes?"

"A friend in the guard."

"You can say Ashelin," She said with a small smile. "It's not a dirty word."

"I have a mission for you." He said leaning over the table. "Krew has an old friend in the guard he wants someone to shake down. His new errand boys are too rough for the job, so he wants someone with a gentler touch. I offered you." He turned to her. "Go to the Hip Hog Saloon and speak to Krew, he'll give you more details."

"And I get my guns back…"

"When you prove you're with us," He said turning his back to her. "Putting on the scarf doesn't make you an Underground agent just yet."

"It's on the house Squeaker." Krew chuckled placing a darkened glass in front of Parker. She rolled her eyes and drew on the condensation on the side of it, she knew better not to expect beer from anyone –and Krew was on the list right next to Lena, Torn and Olivia. It felt weird sitting at Krew's place without her uniform, without her guns and without her Wolves but this was her new life; she was alone now.

"No thanks Krew." She said sliding the glass back to him. "I'm not really in the mood for a drink."

He chuckled, a dangerous chuckle that made her toes curl. "I'd be drinking if I were you." He floated away and grabbed a sheet from behind the bar. He held it out to her. "The guards have passed these to everyone."

Parker knew who's face was going to be on the flyer. She stared at herself, big eyed and scared. Her hair a tangled mess of black curls and clumps of dirt. There's a cut running from her jawbone up to her lip and her teeth are red with streaks of black. She took a deep breath feeling it catch in her throat. It has to be a security photo of her, a photo from her a year or six months ago. Her name is printed clearly in bold black letter. She dropped the flyer on the table and brought a shaking hand to her forehead. What was she doing? She was crazy for leaving Erol and the guard –and going against the code she swore by.

"Thirsty?" Krew asked sliding the drink towards her.

"No thank you." She whispered as the doors slid open. She turned to the door expecting a guard or Erol but was shocked when Jak came in. What did he want with Krew? Last time she checked he was working with the Underground –also Lena confessed that she hired him to find her. Parker swung in her chair and looked at the blond. She wished she had her guns or something to protect herself. The boy did promise she'd be dead by the end of the war and she didn't feel safe when he was near –even though they were in a crowded bar. As if sensing her presence, his eyes snapped to her. A brutal chill clawed its way up her spine, she straightened hoping it would mask her fear.

"You boys are turning out to be quite useful, ey?" Krew chuckled flying behind them. Jak, and the rat he Lena called Daxter, to look at the heavyset man. "Mmm, I have another task for you. The Sewers used to be a fabulous smuggling route for me before the Baron installed security devices."

The sewers. If only Jak knew that it was the catalyst to his imprisonment. She was about to make a comment about the dangers of picking at old scars when Daxter piped in, "And before those late night snack runs kept you from fitting out the front door."

"I bet you've hatched another 'brilliant' plan in that hungry little brain of yours." Jak snapped at the man. "So... who or what do we have to shake down, knock out, or blow up?"

Krew licked his fingers. "Well, I need someone to go down and shoot every Sentry Gun in the Sewers, and I'll give you a sweet weapon upgrade if you succeed."

Parker's eyes flicked to Jak just in time to see him smirk at the words 'weapon upgrade'.

"Let me guess..." Daxter started. "Dank, murky waters? Reeks worse than your breath at an oyster fest? Fuller o' Metal Heads than your plate at a one pass buffet?"

Parker snorted a laugh, covering her mouth and spun in her chair so she couldn't see Krew glaring at her.

"And of course," He went on. "Weapons more lethal than your 'ever so tighty whiteys' on a hot summer day? Look, donut hole, why don't WE float around here looking hot and heavy, and YOU go roto-root the pipes?"

"We're not doing anything until you tell us why Metal Heads are trading with the Baron's forces!" Jak shouted.

"I should have had you both knee-capped, ey?" Krew snarled. "All I know is that the Baron cut a desperate deal with the Metal Head leader." Parker tensed. How did Krew know about that? And why would he tell Jak that? It was supposed to be a secret to keep the Baron on the throne while they looked for the Kid or destroyed the Underground and hung Torn for treason. Parker sighed and dropped her head to the counter, now she'll hang next to Torn doing the dead man's dance. She stopped listening but sat up when she heard the door slide close, she swung in her chair and crossed her arms as the man floated towards her.

"Loose lips sink ships."

"And traitors swim with fishes." Krew snapped back. "So if you want to keep off Erol's radar then you'll do this mission for me."

"What do you want?"

"I have an old friend from my days in Kras who now lives in the Barzaars. He recently lost a bet and he hasn't paid up yet." Krew pointed to the TV. "Erol won the do over race the Baron held in honour of the victims of the stadium massacre." He chuckled. "Poor Ace he bet against me and lost."

"Naturally." Parker smirked. Whoever this guy was he wasn't smart. Erol wins almost every race unless it's cancelled because of rain –or a random Underground attack.

"He hasn't paid up yet."

"And you'll like me to shake him down?"

"You learn fast Squeaker," He chuckled. "Go to the Bazaar and talk to the old fool, remind him that his payment is due?"

"And if he doesn't want to pay?"

"Remind him." Krew chuckled. "I know you know how to do that."

Krew was right; she did know how to get people to talk, to get people to confess to their deadly sins through tears and wrenched sobs. She ignored their swearing and pleas for her to stop until the deeds were done. She normally went numb forgetting about her own feelings and kept digging until she found what she was looking for.

This time around it wasn't any different. She found the man, Ace, asleep in his chair, the remote dangling from his limp fingers. It was easy for her to break in, the old man left his door unlocked and she sauntered through kicking the door shut with the back of her heel. She watched him sleep for a while, looking at his KG tattoos and the scars on his face. She went to the kitchen, found the biggest knives and went back to the living to drop them on the table. She waited a second, hoping the noise would wake him, and when it didn't she went back to get his bottles of liquor. She smashed them all at his feet, the smell woke him and he glared at the girl. She couldn't help but smile then, it was time to play.

Now she paced in front of the bleeding man. He was missing the bottom row of his teeth, an eyebrow and a small section of hair on his head. She wiped the blood off on the couch, ignoring the burning feeling on her hand after Ace bit her.

"What now Parker?" He chuckled, his voice throaty from years of smoking. "What will you tell the scum bag Krew?"

"He'll figure out you've expired." She said spinning a knife in her hand. "Any last words for the Crime Lord?"

"He's a fat sack of shit with a black hole for heart and breath worse than sweaty gym socks!"

"Anything else?"

"I still work for the guard."

She paused looking at him. "What was that?"

"I still work for the guard," He chuckled as she heard screens down street. "After Krew smuggles the weapons in, I'm the one that contacts Erol, sets up a pick up and takes the money." She felt her stomach drop as the door downstairs was kicked opened and she heard someone shout up to them. Ace chuckled again. "It's good to know that Parker Drake know works for the Underground, isn't it Erol?" Parker turned to the group of guards in the doorway.

Erol stood in between Olivia and a random guard, behind him Flint stared with his jaw hanging open. Parker took a step back as Erol's eyes fell on her wrist. She could feel his confusion turn to anger, as he looked right at her and said, "Kill her." She turned on her heel, twisted her body away and ran towards the window. She heard the first bullet go past her. It spider webbed the window, another bullet went into the television and another went into her shoulder. She stumbled forward but kept going. She pulled her arms into her chest and threw her body against the window, she gasped when another bullet lodged itself just above her hip. The ground came up fast and hard, it knocked the window out of her and she rolled over onto her back.

Above Erol looked down at her. There was something there, something she wanted to call sadness or regret, maybe, if she dared, love. The flicker was there for only a second as he glared at her. Flint stepped up to Erol. "Is she dead?"

"You can't kill her that easily."

"But she jumped out of a window!"

"Doesn't matter," He smirked down at her. "I'll enjoy killing her prison though."

She took a deep gasping breath and rose to her feet, she pushed herself to run through the Bazaar without looking back at the house. She wondered if Erol could see what she felt. The pain and emptiness that came with loving him; did he know that he wounded her, damaged her? She let the tears run down her face, she finally felt the pain now. The pain wasn't from jumping from the window or taking a bullet to the hip. There was a bullet somewhere else; in her heart.

TBC…

Author's Note

And the second 'book' is up. Wow that took a long time to write and to edit and all that jazz. Hopefully the next couple of chapters will be up soon. Love Paradise.