Going back
"Son of a bitch! I can't believe he did this to us... damn son of a bitch!"
Leilani struggled to open her eyes and watched Blaze pacing back and forth across the room. The redhead was clenching her fists and almost crying in helpless fury. Next to her lay Robbie with his eyes closed and mouth half-opened. He was burning with fever. Beads of sweat were running down his wrinkled face and his grey hair and goatee were wet with perspiration. Leilani didn't even want to imagine what she herself looked like. She only knew she was fevering as well, her joints were aching and her hair had gone grey. She and her brother were dying.
"How could he? We saved his life! His fucking life!" Blaze was raving meanwhile. "If I ever see this piece of shit again I'll kill him!"
Leilani sighed. She wasn't angry at Martin; disappionted and saddened, yes, but not angry. Over a month that had passed since Robbie found him Leilani grew to like the boy. Like her brother, he appeared to be kind and quiet. But while Robbie was a laid back slacker who seemingly only needed his guitar, his surfboard and a nice sunny day to work on a tan to be happy, Martin was different. In contrast with Robbie's carefree Hakuna Matata attitude, the newcomer had a certain something in him, a quiet intensity, like a spring folded and waiting to be released. He was always looking for a chore, eager to help in one way or another; it came to a point where the Lost Boys had to actually plead with him to sit down and give himself a rest, as for first couple of weeks Martin was still suffering from the effects of a beating or a fall, whatever happened to him in the city.
He didn't talk much, especially about his past. Once, when asked by Dingo if he had any friends left in the city, he shook his head and said, "Not many." Dingo asked why and Martin replied сurtly, "I was pretty messed up back then. Let's leave it at that."
He wasn't all that into company either, often leaving to wander in the woods by himself or spending hours sitting on the beach looking at the ocean.
He listened to the radio religiously - the Lost Boys had a radio which worked on battaries and only recieved one station which was based in the city. It wasn't even a station - some guy who called himself DJ P2X, was appearently living in an abandoned studio would go on air every Sunday night at 9 pm. Because of lack of battaries for his equipment he'd just run down a quick news report and play some song, usually Green Day or Metallica. The news were the same most of the time - a shootout between tribe A and tribe B in a neighbourhood C, a trading session to take place on such and such date in such and such location ("Come at your own risk and better pack heat. And for the last time people, nobody uses cell phones and beepers anymore. If you try to trade this shit for anything you're gonna get whacked and nobody's gonna feel sorry for your ass."). Leilani noticed that Martin was paying extra attention whenever the Locos were mentioned (according to DJ P2X their leader, Zoot, was missing and someone named Ebony took control of the tribe). Then, two weeks ago, when the big news was Tribe Circus' raid on the Phoenix mall, Martin visibly tensed and paled, on the verge of panic attack, and only breathed with relief when it was revealed there were no casualities. He never explained the reason, of course.
But the raid was not a headliner.
"You know what they say, life is bitch and then you die," announced DJ P2X, "Well folks we've officialy come to the "then you die" part. The virus is back. If you got the virus better stay home and don't show your ass on the streets. They're wasting those who got infected."
Three days later Robbie became ill and the next day the virus got Leilani. Martin and Blaze moved them to a bike storehouse nearby to at least somehow try to protect the kids from getting infected and would wear pieces of fabric around ther faces whenever they entered the storehouse to tend to the siblings. The truth was however, there was nearly nothing they could do to help. They would wipe Leilani's and Robbie's faces with rags soaked in water and put bottles of cold water next to them to try and reduce the heat, but it was for naught. Last night, on Sunday, Leilani remembered, Martin walked in after sitting on the beach listening to the radio, sat next to her, holding her hand and smiling. She thought she heard him say quietly, "You will be okay now. Everything's gonna be fine.", but she wasn't sure. And this morning Blaze and the kids woke up and found out that the motorboat was missing and the jerrican which used to contain the remainings of their fuel was lying empty on the beach. The daily ration of food, stacked away in a sack in the store, and five bottles of water out of eight were gone too. Martin was nowhere to be found. He even took some of Robbie's clothes with him.
Janey and Dingo were upset and angered, Blaze was beside herself; Robbie, upon learning about what happened, closed his eyes wearily and muttered, "Hey, what the heck can you do? The guy was trying to save his skin, can't blame him for that... we're gonna die anyway," reducing his girlfriend to tears.
"Martin," Leilani whispered. Her lips were dry and the morning light was hurting her eyes. She felt like her head was about to explode. The heat was becoming unbearable. Delirious, she suddenly saw him standing above her, looking down with a cold and withdrawn look on his face. Leilani tried to tell him she wasn't angry and that she forgave him, but the words wouldn't come out; seconds later she slipped into the blackness of unconsciousness.
She was waken up by a touch of something cold on her lips,something that was forcing them open.Someone's hand was holding her head up. A moment later a strange herbal taste filled Leilani's mouth. With an effort, she opened her eyes and screamed out in horror. Above her, in complete darkness, she saw a pair of eyes - no face, just two unnaturaly bright grey eyes levitating in complete darkness. The creature, whatever it was, was holding a small glass vial and pouring it's contents in her mouth.
"Hush," it whispered, "Don't be scared. It's okay. You're going to be okay now."
The door opened and Blaze, flashlight in her hand, burst inside the storehouse.
"Lani, what's wro... Hey get away from her! Who the hell are you?!"
The creature turned to her and now Leilani saw that it was just a boy, a short-haired boy with his face painted completely in black. For some reason he was wearing Robbie's old baggy jeans and a hoodie; beside him, on the floor lay a backpack, a sack and a large jerrican.
"Put this shit away, will you?" he grumbled, holding his hand up to protect his eyes.
It was Martin.
It was about nine in the morning when the boat reached the shore - barely made it, that is. The tank was practicly empty. Martin dragged the boat in the nearby bushes to hide it and headed uphill towards the city, but not before using a knife to cut off his dreads and hiding his face under the hood . His ultimate destination, the Phoenix mall, stood downtown and to get there Martin had to pass through a couple of hoods controlled by rival tribes. Besides there was one more place he intended to visit.
The first thing that perplexed him as he walked through the Wasted Lands, an area run by the Jackals tribe, was an unusualy motley mob on the streets. There were naturaly the Jackals but also the Orphans, the Gulls, the Scavanges, the Roosters and representives of at least half a dozen other tribes. Martin even noticed a couple of Demon Dogs and Tribe Circus people. Something was very strange about it. The Jackals, as he knew, were notorious for cutting the intruders' ears off and wearing them on a string like necklaces, which usually used to make people think twice before entering the Lands.
The second thing was, no one bore arms except for three Locos whom he saw slowly striding down the street. Each had a pair of handcuffs and a nightstick on his belt and each carried a gun - a Desert Eagle, and two Uzis. One could say they looked like policemen on patrol. Martin stood in astonishment as they strode by him, looking around and ocassionaly exchanging phrases. A couple of pedastrians, he noticed, were glaring at the Locos patrol with disdain, some with hatered even, but no one made a slightest attempt to stir up trouble. For a moment, he felt an urge to call after them, to stop them and reveal himself. But he wasn't in the city for that.
Still shaking his head in disbelief Martin continued on his way. What was going on? Was Ebony such a good leader that under her command the Locos took over the city in a little more than a month? Impossible. Also, that DJ Whatshisname never mentioned anything like that in last night's broadcast. Speaking of which, what time did he say the Mallrats would open the gates? Martin looked at his watch. He still had a spare hour and a half.
About fifteen minutes later he entered the Jet's Place, a bar and a trading point, one aforementioned DJ used to highly recommend on weekly basis. Upon being allowed in Martin was examined by a mask-wearing bouncer to make sure he wasn't effected by the virus. Luckely for him, the bouncer did not know Zoot in person.
The place was dark despite the morning hour, thanks to heavy red curtains on the windows; the place held ten tables, but only a few of them were occupied. There was a small group of Jackals sitting in the far corner in a quiet conversation over a bottle of golden-colored drink which could have been whiskey or tequila; a teenager in a luxorious snow-white suit and a hat, both of which were too big for him, was hugging a giggling girl at the closest table to the door, whispering something in her ear; and a small, Middle-Eastern fellow, olive-skinned and black haired, sat alone by the wall nursing a glass of orange soda. Martin put the hood back on and walked over to the barman, appearently Jet himself, a bald, round guy in his late-teens, with an earring and red lighting drawn across his face.
"Morning," he said.
"Hey," Jet greeted him back lazily. "We don't serve food until afternoon, you know that right?"
"I'd like a drink," Martin nodded at the line of colorful bottles, some half full, some almost empty, others untouched, on the bar stand behind Jet.
"Whacha paying with?"
"Food", he said quietly. The bartender became animated.
"What you got?"
"What YOU got?"
"Whiskey, beer, vodka, tequila, liqueurs, cognac, wine, instant drinks.There's some soda but frankly it's almost year-old, all out of gas. Got some water too, but not very clear. You know how it is here."
Martin reached in the sack he carried and produced a big orange mango.
"I'll have me a glass of beer, please. You have Tui?"
Jet only nodded, looking at the fruit with a lit up eyes.
"Man, you're from some farm or something? You got any more of these?"
"No."
"You sure? Listen man, you wanna go into business with me maybe? We could squeeze juice out of these babies and I'll tell you, fresh-squeezed juice is a fucking luxury today. You won't believe what people are willing to give for a glass!"
"No, I wanna have my beer. That's what I want. Snap out of it and get me a drink."
The bartender looked disappointed. "Suit yourself man. But at least think about it, okay?"
Martin ignored his last words and said, "I heard your place is also a trading point?"
"Yeah," Jet nodded as he poured Martin a glass of Tui beer. "You're early thought, all the business usually goes down in the night hours. Right now there's only Salim in here. But he's good. Whatever you need, he can get you."
"That guy by the wall?"
"Right. Hey, you think about what I told you man, okay?" Jet called after Martin who left the mango on the stand (the fruit immideately disappeared in the bartender's pocket) and headed for Salim's table.
"Hey. You're Salim?"
"I am."
Salim was about fourteen years old, very thin and wore a black baggy shirt and pants and had a black strip painted across his forehead.
"Jet over there told me you're trading. And that you can get me anything I need."
The boy bared his teeth.
"Ah, Jet. The PR machine. Well yeah I'm trading and I can get you stuff. If the price is right."
"I need black paint. Like the one you use."
"I can get that for you, no problem."
"And I need gasoline. As much as you can find."
Salim looked at Martin blankly, then said, "Well shit pal, I don't know if I should kill myself or go bowling. You know how precious gasoline is now. You might have just as well asked me to bring your Mama and Papa to you."
"I'm willing to pay. Fruits, vegetables, dry-cured fish. And fresh water." said Martin softly.
"Let me see."
Martin mentioned him to lean over and as Salim did, opened the sack slightly. The Middle-Eastern boy let out a quiet whistle.
"My, my. Okay, I'll tell you what... what's your name, anyway?"
"I'm Storm", he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"I'll tell you what Storm, if you wait here for ten minutes I'll bring you the paint. That would be one fish. Now with gasoline, it will be more difficult..." Salim pulled an alarm clock from out of his pocket and checked the time. "If you drop here at about six in the evening, inshallah, I will have a jerrican for you."
"How much that would be?" Martin inquired.
"Well you have to understand I will not be able to get you gasoline all by myself, alright? I'll have to use a few contacts, and they all will expect to be paid, too."
"How much?"
Salim looked at the ceiling thoughtfuly.
"I'd say, ten apples, ten mangos, fifteen carrots, fifteen potatoes and ten fishes. And all of your water."
"Can't do that," he shook his head. "Make it three bottles."
"Four."
"Alright, four..."
"And you must pay me now."
Martin sneered, "You think I was born yesterday? I'll pay you now, you'll go out that door and I'll never see you again. I'm not falling for that."
"You're not from here, are you?" asked Salim after a breif confused pause. "Pal, if I was a con, which I'm not, I could have pulled that off two weeks ago, a week maybe. Now if anyone tries to rip a customer off, one word to the Locos and they'll hang the guy by his balls. Anyway, I'm legit. I'm not a crook."
"I'm from around here, just haven't been around for a while. What's the deal with the Locos? They took over the city or something?"
"Oh man, that's a story and a half," Salim laughed. "You know the Mallrats tribe, right? From what I heard, a big bunch of ninnies. Now imagine this, they're now in control of the whole damn city and the Locos are their muscle. Unbelievable, I know. They're not even called the Locos anymore. They're known as Ebony's Militia."
"Tell me about it," asked Martin, sipping beer.
"Well you know, a few weeks back Locos' ringleader, Zoot, have vanished. Was probably wasted by Demon Dogs or whoever. Anyway, that black chick of his, Ebony, took over, but without Zoot they started getting their ass whipped. Demon Dogs and Tribe Circus hooked up against them and really let them have it until the virus returned. The Mallrats found the antidote formula and all of a sudden they're holding the whole city by the balls. Now Ebony, you have to hand it to her, she is smart. She somehow went and struck a deal with the Mallrats, and the next thing you know they and the Locos are the best of friends. The Mallrats gave the whole city an ultimatum - stop the tribal war or die from the virus. So yeah, peace and love began to rule immideately. They're distributing the antidote these days, but you can't get it for free, have to surrender your piece first. So what happening is this - the Locos, or the Militia, are the only armed tribe in the city and are serving as a police force of sorts. Actually, let me correct myself, they aren't that loyal to the Mallrats either. They only take orders from Ebony, but so far she and the 'Rats are on the same page." Salim lowered his voice. "And pal, I hope they stay on the same page. I heard that Ebony is one crazy bitch, even more out of it than Zoot himself was. If the Mallrats don't keep her and her guys in check, shit, there will be hell in here... Anyway, you're gonna pay me or what?"
"I will pay you for the paint now. When you get the gasoline, I'll give you the rest."
Salim thought for a minute, then said. "Okay, we have a deal. Give me the fish. and wait here, I'll be back in ten minutes."
Two hours later, after waiting in line (there were two lines actually, one for these who were already effected by the virus and one for these who were not), Martin stepped in front of two armed Locos and a small, dark-skinned Mallrat whom he seemed to remember from that night's ruckus at the mall. The boy held a thick notebook and a pen.
"What tribe are you with?" he asked, breifly looking at Martin, who now had a thick layer of black paint and a medical mask he found on the street hiding his face and still had a hood on.
"The Lost Boys" Martin spoke in a raspy, hoarse voice as he didn't want the Loco guards to recognize him.
The Mallrat boy leafed through the notebook, then lifted his gaze at him again.
"There's no such tribe in the list," he said. "Where are you guys located? And how many are there in the tribe?"
"Out of town. Six people in the tribe."
"You aren't very talkative, are you?" the boy chuckled. "Wait, I'll have to get you on the list... what's your name?"
"Storm".
"Alright, you can come in..." the Mallrat started saying but one of the Locos interrupted.
"Dal, you fucktard, you will never learn, will you? It's his first time here and he has to surrender his piece. You got any weapons on you?" he turned to Martin. "You have to leave it here before you get the antidote. And don't try to lie cause we will do the body search on you and if we find anything, even a simple needle, you'll be in trouble."
"I have a knife. Does it count?"
"You bet your ass it does," said the other Loco and extanded his hand. "Give it to me."
Without another word, Martin pulled the knife out of his boot and, holding it by the blade, handed it over to the guard. But he wasn't satisfied.
"What's in the sack?"
He hesitated, than said, "Food."
The Locos exhanged glances but before they could say anything, Dal spoke nervously, again telling Martin to come in.
Once inside, two lines devided into four, each ending at one of four desks stationed at the mall's lobby. Behind each desk stood a Mallrat, handing out the vials with antidote. In the far corner, a group of Locos sat on the floor, watching the distribution process and ready to interfere if anything went wrong.
After the Mallrat girl, who looked twelve, had her long ponytailed hair bleached blonde and wore a white smug with a large red cross on the front, handed him the vial, Martin didn't leave. She raised her eyebrows at him,
"Anything else?"
"People from my tribe can't come here every day to get the antidote, you see," he explained. "I need a weekly portion for six persons. If this could be arranged, I'd appreciate it."
The girl looked confused, "Uh, sorry, I don't think I'm allowed to give a single person that much of the antidote."
"Please. There are two sick people in my tribe already. They're dying. They can't come here every day, don't you understand?"
Behind his back, people in the line were beginning to curse and shout at him to move on.
"I'll pay you guys with food and water," Martin said, looking her in the eyes.
"I... I'll have to talk to Bray or Danni first..."
"No you won't," a quiet voice sounded and Lex strolled over to the desk, wearing a long trenchcoat, leather pants, black T-shirt and a Stetson.Martin's heart raced and his fists clenched at the sight of a raven-haired teen. "You mentioned you're willing to pay for the antidote?"
Martin nodded.
"Follow me," said Lex. "I believe we can work something out. As for you Patsy, get back to work. And forget this fellow here asked for extra portions."
"But, but I must ask..." the girl stammered. She seemed to be intimidated by him.
"You must keep your pretty little mouth shut or else you will make Papa Lex mad. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"
Patsy shook her head hastily.
"Atta girl. You, what's you name, come with me."
The boys walked into a room behind the desks, not a very large one, probably formerly used as the janitor's chest. Closing the door, Lex turned to Martin.
"What's your name? What tribe are you with?"
"Storm. I'm with the Lost Boys."
" Never heard of such tribe. No matter. Lex here.What do you need? A weekly portion for six people you said?"
"That's right."
"You're lucky I happened to be around. These kids out there don't know a shit. Bray, Danni, forget whatever that stupid girl told you. I run this place and I can get you any deal you want," bragged Lex. "What are you paying with?"
"Fruits, vegetables, fish and water."
"That's some good stuff. You got it all in the sack?"
"Yes."
"Let me see."
Martin showed him the contants of the sack. Lex smiled with satisfaction.
"Shit Storm, this here is some really good stuff! Alright we have a deal. Give me the sack and wait here, I'll bring you the antidote."
He shook his head. "You can't have it all. I'll have to buy gasoline later today"
"Not of my concern man." said Lex. "You give me the sack or the deal is off."
Martin sighed. "Listen, I would give it to you if I could, but I can't. Okay? I'll just need three bottles, fifteen carrots and potatoes and ten apples, mangos and fishes to pay for gasoline. You can have the rest."
Lex now sounded annoyed as he snapped, "You deaf or something? I told you I don't fucking care. Hell, do you know I can just take the food by force and kick you out of here on your dumb ass? Come on, don't fuck around with me. Give me the sack."
"Listen..."
"Hey, don't tell me to fucking listen. Just give me the damn food!"
Lex reached for the sack. When Martin stepped back, the Mallrat shoved him hard against the wall. A second later, Martin got a grip of Lex' hand and jerked him forwards, causing the attacker to crash face-first into the wall himself.
"You son of a..."
Clinching Lex' arm in a hammerlock and pressing him against the wall, Martin wrapped his free arm around the attacker's throat.
"I heard you're good with the nunchakus, when you're against someone who isn't armed," he hissed into the Mallrat's ear. "Too bad you can't use them now, huh?"
"Le...go...you..." Lex was gasping for air, then suddenly threw his head backwards, nailing Martin in the face. As he staggered back, stunned, Lex turned around, reaching under his trenchcoat.
"I can't use the 'chakus, alright" he smirked. " But I got something better."
Martin froze on his place. There was a gun in Lex' hand, pointing straight at his chest.
"You know who this gun belonged to, you asshole?" said the Mallrat softly. "It was Zoot's. He came at me with a gun and I fucking killed him. Just like I'm about to kill you. You have no idea who you messed with. I am Lex, The Loco Slayer. The master of disaster. Lex the Invincible. I'm gonna shoot you like a fucking mad dog. Like a bitch. Like a..."
Martin simply stepped forward and kicked him in the groin. The gun dropped to the floor as Lex slowly sank on his knees, white as a sheet, mouth open but unable to make a sound and shuting his eyes in pain.
He leaned down, picked the weapon and tucked it under his belt so that the hoodie was hiding the gun from unwanted attention.
"I think I'll take it." Lex could only gasp for air.
Suddenly door swung open. Martin turned around abruptly to face his brother.Hastily, he pulled the hood further down. Next to Bray stood a dark-haired girl with big eyes and full lips, dressed in jeans and a maroon blouse. Behind them gathered a couple of Locos and Mallrats.
"What's going on here?" Bray demanded, then noticed Lex writhing in pain, and shook his head. "Ah, alright. I see."
The Locos roared with laughter; the girl said, "Lex, I told you to quit messing around with people, didn't I? I told you one day you'll get your butt handed to you by someone. So there you have it."
She then turned her attention to Martin.
"We apologize for Lex. I hope he didn't hurt you?"
"I'm okay".
"Ever since we started distributing the antidote he's been trying to rip people off, demanded kids pay him to get their dose... I'm sorry about what happened and thanks for putting him in his place. What is your name?"
"Storm."
"Nice to meet you. This is Bray and I'm Danni. We..."
More people squeezed into the room. Among them Martin saw Trudy, a baby in her arms. She observed the scene for a second, shook her head and hurried out. Martin felt strange at the sight of her; there was that warm feeling he got every time he saw Trudy, there was a relief - she and the girl were fine - but the sorrow, the "she'll-never-be-mine" feeling were gone. It was as if he was happy to meet an old friend - but nothing besides that. How could that happen, he wondered
Another person who peered into the room was Ebony. She barely looked at Martin, concentrating on poor Lex who by now was on his back with his hands between his legs and wailing quietly. A wide, satisfied grin dominated Ebony's face.
"What kind of trick did he try to pull on you?" Bray asked meanwhile. Martin explained the situation.
"This can be done," said Bray. "But you don't have to pay us anything. On contrary, I believe we owe you some sort of compensation for this... accident."
"We could give you a two-weeks' supply of the antidote, for six persons," suggested Danni."Would that be okay?"
"More than okay," said Martin, smiling unwillingly. "You guys are too generous. Thanks."
"Don't mention it," grinned Bray. "Follow us, please."
As Martin was leaving the room, Lex darted after him, groaning, "Hey stop this punk, he stole my..."
"Shove it Lexie," laughed Ebony and slammed the door in his face.