-turns up from fic hiatus with Starbucks.-
This chapter is dedicated to Arlaxxer, who for some strange reason, likes this.
"Bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt!"
Booker gasped desperately for air and sat up, spluttering. He hit himself on the back, coughing up the last of the water. Groaning, he looked up, jumping slightly at the three enormous statues towering over him. He used his hand to cover his eyes from the sun, making him see better. Booker blinked, seeing another figure floating nearby.
"Charlie!" He shot up, wading through the water to get to her. He quickly made the girl sit up before hitting her on the back. After a few thumps she coughed up water. Her red hair had been freed, presumably by the preacher, and was now cascading down her back. She looked up at him.
"Did I ever tell you," Charlie coughed, "how much I fucking hate church?"
Booker chuckled before guiding her to the steps. He helped her sit on the edge, her feet still dangling in the water. He grimaced as she began to retch. He awkwardly patted her back. When done, she slumped back, looking pale.
"Stay here," Booker ordered quietly. With her agreement, he ran sluggishly up the stairs. After some searching he found an apple and a pear on a bench. The brunette man quickly snatched them and ran back down the stairs. Charlie was now lying as best you could on a set of steps, arm over her eyes.
"Now an appropriate time to be sunbathing?" He commented when he was closer, holding out the apple. Charlie took it gratefully, patting the space next to her. Booker sat down.
They ate their separate fruits silently, contemplating what had happened to them so far. When Booker turned to Charlie, he noticed a purple mark on her neck. Brows furrowed, he leant over, pushing her hair out of the way.
Her neck was covered in a large purple bruise, which was fading green around the edges. He looked at her face, noting how her eyes wouldn't meet his.
"I was dressed as a boy, Booker." She reminded, rubbing her neck. "They don't look too kindly on that."
Booker growled slightly. "What did he do?" He gritted out, turning her face to meet his. She pushed his hand away, before sighing.
"My hat fell off when he put me under." She told him, "My hair got looser too. 'Course, they all saw, and he started yapping something about gender roles." Charlie shrugged, "He musta just squeezed harder the second time round." She sighed, sitting up.
"What about you?"
Booker turned to her, confused. Charlie rolled her eyes before gesturing to herself.
"I got drowned 'cuz I was dressed like a boy," She pointed at him. "What did you do?"
"I guess he just didn't like the look of me," Booker shrugged, standing up. "Ready to go?" He asked, holding out his hand. Charlie looked him up and down, nodding.
"Yeah, you could do with a shower," She grinned, taking his hand and allowing herself to be pulled up.
"You wanna matching bruise on your shoulder?" Booker threatened, shoving her lightly. Charlie laughed, eyes shining. She'd obviously gotten over the whole baptising fiasco.
"Let's go," She chirped brightly, walking towards the stairs. As they ascended them, a thought occurred to the redhead.
"Say Booker, where'd you get that apple from?"
"Do you even know where this girl is?" Charlie asked as they walked towards large door which would, hopefully, get them out of this garden. She reached into her pocket, remembering she had a spare hair tie. She tied her hair up, watching Booker fumble in his pockets. He pulled out a postcard and handed it to her.
The postcard had a picture of a giant angel statue on it, with the phrase 'Souvenir from Monument Island.' on top. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard to find," Charlie commented positively, "I mean, how many giant angels can a flying city have?"
Booker grunted in agreement as they came up to the door. They each pushed one side. When they had reached the over side they looked up gaping.
"Holy-"
"I know," Booker whispered, slightly awed as the garden lowered. This place looked like something out of a storybook. It had looked good in the elevator but now, in person, it was breath-taking. And slightly scary.
"Yeah, but how does it fly?" She wondered, watching the drawbridge like mechanism go down and lock on to another section of city. "Is it even flying, or is it floating? Do you think someone's steering it, or it's programmed?"
"I don't know, Charlie," Booker answered, watching the girl spin around like she was surrounded by magic. And maybe she was. "But if I ever find out, you'll be the first to know,"
Charlie nodded approvingly, and they continued walking in silence for about thirty seconds.
"Hey Booker, do we have any money?" Charlie inquired, turning to the older man. Booker looked at her, confused.
"Yeah, we do. Why?"
Instead of giving a verbal answer, she merely pointed to the hot dog stand a few feet away from them. Booker thought about it for a few moments.
Yeah, I could go for a hot dog.
"Okay," Booker agreed, handing her a handful of silver eagles. "Get me one, too."
"Yes sir," Charlie saluted, before waltzing towards the stand. As she approached, she saw the vender look up at her and pull an odd expression at her trousers. Well, fuck you too.
"Hello ma'am, what can I do for you today?" He asked, hands resting on the cart. Charlie looked over the signs before deciding her order.
"Two hot dogs, one with just ketchup and one with both, a root beer and a lemonade, please." She requested, smiling.
"That'll be six silver eagles," The man replied, already preparing the hot dogs. Charlie turned around, noticing Booker make his way into a store just across from the giant statue of Comstock.
"Beautiful day, isn't it?" She acknowledged, returning her attention to the man. He smiled at her as he pulled out two bottles.
"That it is, miss. Perfect for the celebration."
Celebration? Charlie went along with it. "I couldn't agree more." She handed him six silver eagles before wishing him a good day and walking towards Booker, who was now sat in front of the statue. Booker looked up as she approached, taking the hot dog with both ketchup and mustard from her. She nudged him with the root beer bottle, making him take that too. She knelt down and sat beside him.
Charlie took a big bite from her hot dog. "From what I could gather," She said around a mouthful of hot dog, aware of the disgusted looks she was getting from a woman sat on a blanket with her son. Booker was used to it by now. "There's some kind of celebration going on today," She shrugged, swallowing. "I don't know what their celebrating, but it could be a good way to fetch her without anyone noticing."
Booker nodded thoughtfully, "Not a bad idea. So, while everyone's focused on celebrating, we just have to find a way to the angel and get the girl out." He swallowed. "But then what? I doubt we can take the rocket back."
Charlie sipped her lemonade, looking up. She watched the airships fly by for a few minutes. "No idea," She responded, finishing off her food. Booker sighed and looked up.
"Charlie?"
"Yeah?"
"The answer is literally right in front of our faces."
"...God?" Charlie guessed hesitantly, biting back a laugh as Booker rolled his eyes. "Oh, the airships, right, gotcha."
"So Tower, Girl, Airship, Ground." Booker relayed, raising his root beer bottle to his lips.
"In that order?"
"In that order." Booker agreed. Charlie grinned, before clinking her lemonade glass against his. She quickly gulped down the entire drink before standing up. Wiping the grass off her trousers, she walked over to a young boy who was waving around newspapers. She smiled at him kindly, before picking one up and walking back over.
"So, this paper talks about a celebration, but it doesn't say what their celebrating." Charlie informed, showing him the paper. Booker shrugged.
"Maybe they just assume everybody knows?" He guessed, standing up too. They both made their way down the street, dodging some children who were playing with a broken tap. Booker had to practically drag Charlie away from a mechanical horse, stating "Charlie, I will buy you five of the things if you just stay focused."
"Fine!" Charlie held her hands up in a pacifying gesture. "I mean, it's not like this will probably be the only time we're in a floating city. Boo me for wanting to have some fun." She said angrily, turning around. "Oo, what's that?"
"Ch-Charlie!" Booker cursed silently, running after the young girl. She didn't get far, as Booker found her leaning on a railing, watching a parade float by. He stood next to her, leaning on the railing too. He couldn't help but be amused at the wonder on her face.
"We don't live in a Sodom," Charlie disagreed with the commentator, frowning. Booker scoffed, scratching the back of his neck.
"Yeah we do," He claimed, staring at the oncoming parade float. "We're just used to it." Charlie's brow furrowed, but decided to just go with it. They watched silently as a float with a large portrait of Comstock and his wife holding a baby, claiming 'A MIRACLE CHILD IS BORN'
"Wasn't that much of a miracle," Booker joked quietly, making Charlie laugh.
"We are so going to hell," Charlie decided, pushing away from the railing. "But, y'know, to hell with it!" She proclaimed, allowing her arms to thud to her sides. "Last one there wins."
Booker grunted agreeably, walking away from the slowly dispersing crowd and down the newly opened road, hardly paying attention to the police man wishing them good luck in a raffle they had no plan to participate in.
Dewitt STOP
Do not alert Comstock to your presence STOP
Whatever you do, do not pick #77 STOP
- Lutece
"Pick #77?" Booker questioned aloud. "Pick 77 in what?" He turned to his partner, who looked just as confused as him. After quickly checking a telescope the duo still couldn't figure out a way to get to the girl in the first place, so they decided to carry on the way they were going.
As they walked up some steps, they could hear a man yelling something about a lightning bolt. When they reached the top Charlie gasped, her eyes not leaving the scene in front of her.
"Booker, that guy's shooting lightning from his fingers!" Charlie watched as the man's hand surrounded itself in a spiralling green cloud. He flicked his hand towards the other man, who began walking sluggishly. Charlie let out a sharp breath when the man levitated into the sky.
Booker, shaking his head, grabbed the redhead's elbow. "Charlie, focus." He insisted, pulling her towards the entrance of the fair. Charlie grumbled under her breath, angry at Booker dragging her away from yet another amazing thing. She quickly shut up however, when she saw the fair.
"Young sir, young miss!" A game stall owner waved them over as soon as they walked through.
"Roll up and play the amazing power of Bucking Bronco!" Charlie turned to Booker hopefully.
"No." Booker stated blankly. Charlie rolled her eyes, yanking her arm out of his grip.
"You've dragged me away from the mechanical horse, the flying quartet, and the guy shooting lightning. I'm afraid I'm going to have to put my foot down."
"Meaning?" Booker inquired, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. Charlie was never one to play angry well.
"I insist that I get to play one game!" Charlie announced. Booker opened his mouth to protest, but closed it soon afterwards, thinking it over.
"..Fine. But-" Booker made sure she was paying attention before continuing. "One game only. And not that Bucking Bronco one. Something about it rubs me the wrong way."
Charlie nodded excitedly before turning around, deciding which one to choose. She looked like a kid in a candy store, eyes shining with her first real chance to do something. She spun around again, stopping suddenly. Her eyes locked onto a man shooting targets with a shotgun and her smile widened. "This way," She encouraged, before walking hastily over to the stall. Booker sighed, following her.
The man grinned at them as they approached. "Those dirty Vox are at it again!" He yelled out to the moving crowds before lowering. "Can I interest either of you in a go?"
"Sure," Charlie agreed easily, walking over to a spare air shotgun. She looked back over at the barker inquisitively. "Um, what do I do?"
The man explained the rules to the redhead. Booker, shaking his own head, moved to stand next to her.
"Basically, just shoot the targets." He informed his partner while the barker moved onto another person. Charlie 'aahed' at Booker, nodding understandingly. Booker watched as Charlie picked up the gun.
"Put you hand further down the grip, towards the middle" He instructed. Charlie moved her hand obediently. "You're gripping too hard." Booker informed the younger girl, reaching over and loosening the grip of her hands. "You got hold it gently but securely. Like a handshake."
"You do know I'm not actually shooting someone, right?" Charlie muttered, but did as she was told. "Am I ready, sensei?" She asked teasingly.
Booker rolled his eyes, but waved her off. "Do your worse."
"Always," Charlie nodded at the barker, who started her game. At first she shot a little too early, which Booker quickly brought to her attention. After that, she managed to hit most of the targets, getting a score of 16.
A prize wall came up. "Second place prize miss, you earned it." Charlie reached forward and scooped up the silver eagles. She allowed them to fall into her pocket and smiled proudly at Booker.
"I got sixteen points."
"So I saw," Booker smiled slightly. "Good job."
Charlie mock curtsied. "I try my best." As they began to walk away, her eyes flickered from the game to Booker. "Are you going to play anything?"
Booker shook his head. "I'd rather we get this over with as soon as possible." He gently pushed her back along the path, past the Bucking Bronco booth again and through all the other booths and stalls. They had been in the middle of discussing how to get a hold of an airship when Charlie gasped, throwing out her arm and grabbing Booker's. Booker followed her gaze, somehow managing to not let a gasp slip out.
"What the hell..."
"Who in their right mind would agree to become that?" Charlie whispered, confused. "It's just-"
She sighed.
"I know. C'mon, looks like we need to go through that gate." Booker coaxed her away from the handyman. Slightly in front of that gate was a green stall with a projector set up. A woman was stood in front of the stall next to a sign that read 'Free Sample!'. She looked up as they approached the gate.
"Dear friend-"
"Sorry, not interested," Booker cut her off. Charlie shrugged apologetically as they walked towards the gate. When they reached the gate, Booker pressed a button on the automated ticket vendor.
"Sorry pal, the raffle is all sold out!"
"Dammit, what now?" He turned to Charlie, who looked up thoughtfully. Remembering something she heard the woman with the basket say, she blinked.
"Want me to ask if she knows how we could get in? She's wearing the uniform after all."
Booker thought about it for a few moments. "Well, I guess it couldn't hurt. I'll stay here. Maybe someone with a ticket will come by."
Charlie nodded and walked briskly towards the woman. "Excuse me?" She called attracting the woman's attention. "Sorry about my friend before, but did you say something about taking control of the men of metal?"
"Need to get through the gate?" The woman replied knowingly, smirking slightly. Charlie scratched the back of her neck, smiling sheepishly.
"That obvious?"
The woman chuckled, before picking up one of the bottles from her basket. "With just a whisper, they're all ears." She promised, offering the bottle to the young girl. Charlie took it hesitantly, looking over the bottle. It was fully green, and the top had a small figure of a woman lying down. The label didn't have any words, but it had a picture of a sword going through a heart. The liquid itself was bright green. Charlie bit her lip. Well, she thought, reaching for the top. What's the worst that could happen?
The stopper made a loud pop as it was pulled out of the bottle. Charlie sniffed the drink, blinking at the minty smell. She slowly lifted the bottle to her lips and tilted it upwards, allowing the drink to rush down her throat. She removed the bottle from her lips, wincing slightly. It tastes like mouthwash!
Shaking her head she looked back at the woman, eyes widening when her peripheral vision went black. She watched, hypnotised, as the woman made a green heart in the air. Blowing a kiss, she suddenly erupted into a bright green light, giggling.
"You're pretty," Charlie heard herself say. The woman giggled again, thanking her. When she returned to her normal colour, she explained what Charlie had just drunk.
"So, now I can do what those guys outside the fair were doing?"
"Just Possession, I'm afraid." Eyes twinkling, the woman smiled. "Wait here," The woman requested, walking to the back of her stall. Charlie watched as she picked up a small blue bottle. Returning, she passed it to her.
"Those are salts. Whenever you get tired after using a Vigor, just breathe in these and you'll feel all better. Try it."
Charlie opened the blue bottle and sniffed. Her nose was suddenly invaded with blue salts, making her cough. She did however, feel better. After thanking the woman, she made her way back to Booker, who was stood in the same position, arms crossed.
"I take it nobody came by?"
He turned to her. "No. Does she know a way to get us in?"
"Sort of. Just don't freak out okay?" At Booker confused look, she turned to the ticket vendor. Concentrating, she raised her hand and clicked her fingers. A green mist wove itself around her wrist and between her fingers, leaving her hand with a green glow. Flicking her wrist in the right direction, the gas took the form of a person and flew towards the vendor, enveloping it to in a green glow.
"Well, if it isn't Assemblyman Buford! You're spot at the raffle awaits." As soon as the gate opened, Booker grabbed her arm and dragged her through it.
"What the hell was tha-"
"Heads..."
"Or tails?"
They both looked up at the duo in front of them. They appeared to be twins, with the male wearing a blackboard keeping a tally of what side the coin landed on, and the woman holding a plate.
"This isn't over," Booker warned her, focusing on twins. "Come on, let us through."
The male twin flicked a coin at Booker, which he caught.
"Heads?" The male repeated.
"Or tails?" The female repeated, looking at them expectantly. Charlie shrugged at Booker's questioning look.
"Might as well."
Booker flicked the coin in the air. "Tails." He guessed as the coin landed on the plate. The twins looked at the plate.
"Told you,"
The woman hummed, annoyed, and marked a tally on the 'Heads' side of the chart. The twins began to talk amongst themselves, and Charlie had to fight back laughter when the male turned and they saw the amount of tallies on the heads side. As they walked away, she heard the man say "Could've sworn we've never seen her before."
She didn't have time to contemplate it.
"Now, tell me what happened." Booker demanded as they walked. Charlie took a deep breath, launching into an explanation, only stopping once when they both took interest in one of the gadgets a policeman had, and another when they saw that the way to Monument Island was shut.
"We could try that way?" Charlie suggested, gesturing towards the direction of the singing. They carried on walking but not for long.
'YOU SHALL KNOW THE FALSE SHEPARD BY HIS MARK!'
"What the..." Booker looked at the back of his hand, where the exact same mark as the one on the poster lay.
Charlie stared at the poster with wide eyes. "Maybe we should find you a glove or something?"
Booker tore his eyes from his hand and looked at her. "We'll be fine," He assured her, rubbing the back of his hand. "As long as we don't bring attention to it."
"And now, the 1912 Raffle has officially begun!"
"Woo, yeah! Raffle!" Charlie cheered mockingly when the other cheers rose, raising her fist in the air. "Highlight of my year!"
"Charlie," Booker said warningly as they descended the steps. Charlie grinned. When Booker continued to look unimpressed she quickly shot him an innocent look.
"I'll behave Dewitt, I promise," She assured, miming an 'x' over her heart. "Cross my heart."
He continued to look at her for a few moments before turning away, seemingly satisfied. They carried on along the path, planning to just walk through, when a feminine voice called for their attention.
"Hey, mister! Mister!" Booker and Charlie walked over to the woman, unsure of what she wanted until they saw the basket of baseballs.
"Sorry, no sale."
The woman giggled, her gaze flicking between the two of them. "Silly. There's never a charge for the raffle." Booker leaned forwards and picked up one of the balls. "You been sleeping under a rock?"
"If the raffle is free, then why did we have to buy a ticket?" Charlie asked confused, also leaning forwards and grabbing a ball. The woman looked at her, surprised. She began to open and close her mouth, trying to form a response.
Charlie looked down at her ball. 1O2. she moved to show Booker, but stopped at the worried look he was giving his own baseball. "What?"
"77." He got out finally, showing her the ball.
"What's wrong with seventy-" Then she remembered.
Whatever you do, do not pick #77
Booker began to throw the ball up in the air, still deep in thought.
"77? That's a lucky number," The woman told him, leaning forwards. "I'll be rooting for you." She whispered huskily, slowly backing away from them.
They both looked up as Jeremiah Fink, they recognised him from a poster, yelled for the bowl to be brought to him. "Is that not the prettiest white girl in all of Columbia?" He claimed, laughing as a young blonde girl brought over a large bowl. "All right then, the number is..." Fink dug his hand into the bowl and brought out a piece of red card. "...number seventy-seven!"
"Well, what do you know?" Booker said sarcastically, turning to Charlie. Charlie looked at him, concern evident on her face.
"Booker," She whispered as the crowd cheered. Booker strained to be able to hear her. "I don't like this."
"Me neither." He admitted as the woman from before brought Fink's attention over to him.
"Number seventy-seven, come and claim your prize!" Fink declared, holding out his arm as the curtains were lifted. "First throw!"
The crowd began to chant 'first throw' as the curtain got high enough to reveal what appeared to be crudely made cardboard branches. Booker and Charlie exchanged puzzled glances as the branches lifted up. Their eyes widened and Charlie's breath caught in her throat as a couple were forcibly brought forwards, their hands tied behind their backs. They cried out for mercy as more discriminatory things were brought up, like monkeys hanging off the branches.
"Come on! Are you gonna throw it... or are you taking your coffee black these days?" Fink laughed cruelly opening his arms wide.
"Let her go, please!" The man screamed as the woman sobbed. "I'm the one you want!"
"Booker, tell me you're not thinking off..."
"Of course I'm not." He looked at her, bewildered. "Did you think I would?"
"Of course not," Charlie replied, relieved. Booker lifted his arm to throw the ball, determined.
"I've got something for you, you son of a bi-"
"Wait!" Fink yelled as a policeman grabbed Booker's wrist. The policeman turned his hand around
"It's him!"
Fink came over and crouched down on stage, making him and Booker eye level. Another police man grabbed Booker's left arm.
"Now where'd you get that brand, boy?" Fink asked patronizingly. "Don't you know that makes you the back-stabbin', snake-in-the-grass False Shepard?" The crowd responded in turn.
"And we ain't letting no False Shepard into our fl-" A baseball smashed into Fink's nose, making him stumble backwards. Everything went silent as Booker turned to Charlie, who looked just as surprised as he was.
"Uh, oops?" Charlie uttered as a policeman grabbed her shoulder roughly. Fink removed his hand from his nose, which was scarlet with blood. He looked at her furiously, barking out a laugh.
"Get 'em, boys." Fink growled, walking off the stage. Booker turned to Charlie who, as if on instinct, looked up to him at the same time. They communicated silently as one of the police men lifted up a Sky-Hook. They nodded in sync as Booker threw his ball up into the air. While the police were distracted, he grabbed one behind the neck and shoved him into the other's Sky-Hook. The Sky-Hook became lodged in his face so when the corpse fell, Booker slipped his hand into it and faced the other police men.
Whilst this was happening Charlie elbowed the police man holding her, quickly following it up with a punch to the face. It produced a large crack, making Charlie wince as he fell to the floor. She saw the curtains begin to close from the corner of her eye, making her vault onto the stage and under the curtain. Fink was gone, but the couple were still tied up, in shock of what had just happened. Charlie quickly ran behind them and untied the woman. She faintly heard the sound of a Sky-Hook burrowing itself into someone else, but managed to keep focused on what she was doing now. When she had untied the man the couple quickly embraced.
"This is sweet an' all, but run!" She commanded them, before going back underneath the curtain. Booker stood in the centre of a circle of corpses, some of which had horribly mangled faces.
Booker stood over the policeman Charlie had knocked to the ground, who was writhing on the floor in pain, and hit him once with the Sky-Hook, rendering him unconscious. He looked up as the redhead jumped daintily off the stage.
"I think that could have gone worse." Charlie said conversationally, walking over to him. Booker scoffed, picking up one of the police batons and chucking it to her. She caught it easily, immediately understanding his intention.
"How many noses do you plan on breaking today?" Booker asked as they stood in the middle of the grass that had just twenty minutes ago been teeming with life. Charlie shrugged.
"Enough to make a dent," She joked, wiping her hand on her trouser leg. Booker rolled his eyes upwards at her bad joke. "Yeah yeah, but you can't deny that was a good throw." Charlie pointed out. "So, uh, where to now?"
Booker looked around before pointing to his left. "That way?"
Charlie shrugged again. "Sure. Why not?"