4 - Red
Rings of thick, white tape circled the outskirts of charred bricks and crumpled tin roofs that remained of the district. Acrid smoke mingled in the air as bodies were dug up from pseudo mausoleums of broken homes and flesh, carried as quickly and carefully to the back of trucks. The Harvesters at bay signaled for the next truck to come after rolling a large white film over the bodies, turning back to the ram shackled district with a gag-the heavy stench of iron burning through the pores of their gas masks.
Arolf's teeth threatened to add to the stench as he buried them deep into his lip. His eyes flittered from split picture frames being swept upon piles of bricks to boards splintered into the backs of people still tightly clamped their knives or floors.
Poor, wretched things, he thought tartly before slamming his molars on his tongue. He tore his gaze away from the board piercing through the back of a woman's chest. Arolf swallowed thickly and marched over to a Harvester with a body bag flung over his shoulder.
"Do you mind?" He hissed through the gas mask. He jerked his thumb towards the woman and child. "Some of us would like to keep our stomachs where they belong."
The Harvester rolled his eyes beneath mud flecked goggles, stomping towards the woman. He kneeled down and, careful of the speared board, heaved her up. The board toppled and squelched until the woman was yanked off and lain over his other shoulder. Arolf's face scrunched under the gas mask at the bright red splotches splattering over browning stains on the Harvester's white uniform.
As the Harvester thundered towards the trucks, Arolf's gaze wandered back to the splintered wood boards and felt his blood run cold. The red soaked board laid abandoned in the rubble-and straight into the premature breast of an infant. Dull, gray orbs, so large Arolf could fool his self for just a moment that the eyes were what was holding its miniscule, singed head down, blindly stared after the woman torn from its blood caked fingers.
Arolf felt his stomach turn inside out and stumbled to the edge of the site. Tearing the bottom of his mask from his mouth, grimy chunks of churned bile poured from Arolf's mouth and painted the edge of the road. The man weaved his arms around his stomach, tightening his grip with each violent tremble that wracked through his body. In the midst of his retching a chuckle prickled through his ears and made the bile in his mouth turn even sour.
"You're so lame! You've only been here for two seconds and you're already hurling."
Arolf spat the last of the bile in his mouth, his throat burning as he swallowed the last down, and shuffled around. The wrinkles around his mouth deepened.
"I wish I could say the same for you sir." He grumbled weakly.
Aurelius shrugged meekly, the oversized suit jacket on him bunching high off his shoulders. The man glared daggers at the boy as he dabbed the back of his sleeve over his mouth. He pulled the mask back over his mouth.
"Sir," Arolf started, "where's your mask?"
Aurelius arched a brow at the man and snorted, "You're funny!" The boy turned on his heel, flicking his wrist for Arolf to follow.
The man hiccupped on the bile that sneaked its way back up into his mouth, dragging his feet behind Aureilus. As they weaved through the hoard of Harvesters, Arolf kept his eyes glued to the back of Aurelius's head-careful to avoid looking at the rubble again.
"You going to tell me what's in that file or just going to use it to wipe the puke from you mouth?" Arolf winced, glancing down at the forgotten-crumpled-folder under his arm. He fumbled with the folder's grime covered edges and peeled it open. He cleared his throat. "You are meant to record what has been destroyed as well as the number of casualties-"
"Shack." He said flatly. The boy gave the district a tired once over, a low tune purring at the back of his mouth when he pointed to a small home littered in bullet holes. "Shack. House...maybe a bar...or is that an outhouse?"
Arolf's brow wrinkled at the abrupt notes, a string of silent curses roiling on the his tongue.
"Sir," he said sharply, "shouldn't you be taking this more seriously?"
"Oh please," Aurelius cackled. "You just have your feathers in a bunch because you're not sitting back at your comfy office with a steaming bowl of whore in your lap."
A dark flush roused upon Arolf's cheeks as his brows furrowed deeper into a scowl. "I have every right to be. This isn't my field." Arolf huffed. "If you had bothered to pick up your files like you were supposed to-"
Arolf yelped as he ran into Aurelius's back. The boy shot the him a small grin, straining the red bruises on his lips.
"I'm sorry," Aurelius said in a light tone. Arolf swallowed thickly at the glare smoldering beneath his eyes. "I didn't seem to catch that. What were you saying?"
Arolf quickly shook his head. "N-nothing sir!"
The heated glare softened into a mild gleam. The boy slapped the man's back harshly. Arolf coughed heavily from the slap, doubling over for a moment.
"Good." Aurelius grinned. His fingers roamed over his lips with a pout, ignoring the man's hacking. "Arolf." The man caught his breath and peered up at the boy with a low wheeze. "Did you bring what I asked?"
Arolf blinked until his jaw dropped. He rummaged in the knapsack tied tightly to his chest and pulled out a tube before tossing it to Aurelius. The boy snatched it from the air. He twisted the cap from the tube and smeared the pale cream over his finger. He dabbed the cream over his lips, wincing at the burn that pricked his bruises.
"Your Corona didn't meet your fancy?" Arolf asked.
Aurelius narrowed his eyes, chucking the tube back at him. Arolf let the tube slip from his grasp and onto the ground. His nose wrinkled into a grimace at the pool of crimson clinging to the tube. He stepped over the crumbled fingers and limbs, handing the file to Aurelius.
"Could you please at least look at your own report?" Aurelius rolled his eyes, yanking the file out of Arolf's hands. He rested the weight of papers on one arm and flipped through the pages.
"I swear you people are just photocopying trash." Aurelius mumbled, scanning the thick scribbles sprawled along the page. He caught snippets of Arolf's droning while casting his gaze across the streets. Thin tendrils of smoke curled across the black, bronze of the sky. Harvesters hauled bodies towards the trucks only to find more buried under caved in rooftops.
He lifted his hand to graze over holes in flimsy boards and canvases of a house until his fingers caught against metal. He curled his fingers around the cool surface and tugged at the miniscule object. He squinted at the emerald bullet rolling in his palm with a frown.
"Damn."
"What was that sir?" Arolf asked.
Aurelius grit his teeth, tucking the bullet into his breast pocket. "Nothing." The bullet in his pocket practically burned through the prickled cotton the moment it fell in. Aurelius sighed heavily, pinching the narrow between his brows. "Nothing at all." He glanced up at the shambled clearing in the middle of the district and froze.
Aurelius's heart skipped a beat as his eyes locked on ashen white locks gleaming sickeningly beneath the last of the lampposts strung around the clearing. He straightened his shoulders, running a hand through his hair to fluff his golden mane. The light dusting of concealer crinkled ever so gently on the edges of his grin. He shoved the stack of papers to Arolf, the man stumbling to the onslaught of plummeting papers, and strode past him. He wormed his way through small hoards of Harvesters and left over bodies scattered across the ground.
Glass crunched under his shoes in a cackling symphony as reached the center of the clearing. Aurelius stomach writhed eagerly as he threw his arms around the other's neck. Twining his fingers around a black clad shoulder, he opened his mouth-a singsong gleam on the tip of his tongue until the boy replied sharply, "You're late."
Aurelius's brows furrowed with a pout as he rested his chin on the boy's shoulder. "No morning kiss?" He grumbled.
Eyes locked on the hologram screen in front of him, the boy noted, "It's 11 pm."
"You know what I mean Ders!" Aurelius rolled his eyes.
The boy paused, rounding his head to bump his forehead against Aurelius's. "Really?"
"What? It rolls off the tongue easier than 'Anders'.'"
Anders stared at Aurelius blankly before turning back to the screen. He curved his free arm backward to brush his hand against Aurelius's cheek. The blonde blinked at the rough caress of leather pricking his skin and snuggled into the touch-until pain bloomed beneath his flesh. Aurelius yelped as Anders pinched his cheek, his gloved nails biting through leather into the soft skin. Aurelius batted at Anders's hand while the other simply skimmed over the document on the screen.
"Okay, okay!" Aurelius cried, his skin stretching at each jerk he attempted to escape Anders's grasp. "No more Ders! I get it!"
The moment Anders's fingers gave way Aurelius jumped back. Cradling his cheek in one hand, he winced at the bruises' pain reigniting in his lips. He glared at the back of Anders's head as his fingers flew across the hologram.
"Your face will freeze like that." Anders said, punching in keys that lit the screen a light blue.
Aurelius's pout held firm despite the bruises' burns begging him to stop. He scowl falter however at the hologram jetting out from Ander's wrist.
"Is that a digital copy of your report?" Aurelius gawked.
"Yes." Anders shrugged.
"How come everything I have is by hand?"
Anders shrugged once more. "Perhaps your tardiness and habit of saying everything out loud is advanced enough for you." Aurelius glared at Anders's back and quickly stuck his tongue out at him. "And you wonder why they refuse to give you anything."
"Oh, shut up." Aurelius flung his chin back on the boy's shoulder. "What are you writing up anyway?"
"Numbers. Just numbers."
"And they call this field work." Aurelius scoffed.
"And it is." Anders swiped his hand across the screen. The screen fizzed a dark gray before disappearing into the band on his wrist. "For the public anyway."
Aurelius fought against the pout straining beneath his lips as Anders stepped away. He stumbled forward while Andy kneeled down to the ground. He plucked up a shard of glass and held it up to the light flickering amongst the lampposts. As he tilted the smoky cracked frame, a glimmer of Aurelius caught his eye in the glass.
"Nice broach." Anders grunted.
"Really?" Aurelius meekly scratched the back of his head, a faint hint of pink dusting his cheeks. He touched the rose broach with a soft grin.
Anders nodded absentmindedly. "This one must have made you real mad, huh?" The bubbly attention wracking through Aurelius's chest simmered instantly. He puffed out his cheeks in a small frown and crossed his arms. "That bad?"
"Please, don't get me started." Aurelius groaned.
"So that's why you dragged Arolf out here," Anders mused.
"That lazy ass needed to get out and smell the flowers." A weary groan whined through the air as a loud retch hacked continuously. Aurelius rolled his eyes. "Or puke on them. Puking works too."
"Of course it does." Anders replied, gently placing the glass back onto the mosaic ground where he found it. The boy ran his eyes over the torn pavilion and leaned back on his heels. "It seems illogical for an unauthorized purge in this kind of district."
Aurelius snorted, "If you ask me this district was begging to be wiped out."
"You know what I mean." Anders snapped. "It just doesn't make sense."
"I really don't care why." Aurelius shrugged, digging into his breast pocket. He pulled out the emerald bullet with a bored glare. "But I can guess who."
Anders swayed back on his heels as Aurelius dropped the bullet into his palm. Anders held the bullet close to his gaze, rolling it in his fingertips beneath the dull light. Bronze light slithered into thin indentations within the bullet, reading: G.S.
The growl rumbling in Anders's chest came out in a mild huff. Aurelius mirrored his irritable growl as he glanced at a truck covered in black film. The Harvesters gathered around it spritzed the end of a body's hand with water from a flask before driving off-the lone arm dangling its farewell with each rocky jerk along the road.
"That's a lot more than usual." Aurelius noted.
"Indeed." Anders rose to his feet. "With Priest Graf on the way, they thought it best to have extra on hand."
"What? His saintly hood can't handle a little blood on his shoes?"
"I'm sure he can. How the masses will take it is something different altogether."
Aurelius kicked at a shard of glass before him, mumbling airily , "I can still get my cut right?"
Anders shot him a blank look before walking past him, the ends of his coattails flapping against him. "I thought you were an independent business?"
"I am!" Aurelius snapped. "I just don't mind being thrown a bone every once in a while."
Anders stared at Aurelius for a moment before racking his knuckles against the back of his head. Aurelius winced at the sharp knock, rubbing the back of his head.
"I'm sure you can finish the last of your report without me."
Anders dropped the bullet into a compartment of his vest while Aurelius whined, "Oh come on! You always write them better!" He trailed after Anders, bumping past a crouching Arolf in the process. "Is this because I'm not in 'uniform?'" Anders merely waved him off as he trekked down the district. "I won't show up late again if that's why you're angry!"
Anders shoved his gloved hands in his pockets, glancing at the ruins circling around him until he stumbled over. Regaining his footing, he caught a flicker of his boot caught along a twine of string. The tattered string ran up into a bear; its white fur matted in singed tuft and brown smudges. He kneeled down to the bear, noting the missing button on its face and bullet wounds overflowing in cotton. He carefully lifted the bear to reveal a blood, red orb staring p at him. Glazed sockets flooded with gray grits and a lone bullet laid upon a pillow of bricks. Scorched, broken flesh hung off the side of blackened marrow all the while silently pleading with a broken jaw, You'll take care of him, won't you?
Anders's gaze fell upon the bear again, tucking a ball of cotton back into a hole in its chest. I'm not angry.
He murmured so quietly only the wind could hear him, "I'm just mad."