Page 4

Town of Spring

P ulling on my still damp jeans, I almost groan at the lack of sand in them.

Once I’ve strapped my weapons on I shrug into my jacket.

Grabbing my bag from the desk, I move the chair away from the door.

I check my weapons once more before I make my way down the corridor.

I got about four hours sleep last night, a good amount for me.

The rest was spent in a cold sweat from my memories, with faces begging for their lives and the devil himself stood in front of me with his whip.

I decided after that, there was no point going back to sleep, so I got up and got ready.

It’s still early which means all the roadies and scavs are still sleeping off their hangovers from last night.

Striding down the corridor, my steps are muffled by the horrible green carpet.

I pass an open room and glance in. A man lays in a pool of blood on the floor, a broken chair leg next to his caved in head.

I don’t bother stopping, but I almost laugh, Nan is going to be pissed.

The rules of her house are simple. No fighting, no killing, and no fucking staining the rooms. With a chuckle, I head to the desk.

I ring the bell a couple of times which causes groans and curses from the men passed out behind me.

There’s a bare white ass sticking up from the pile of passed out men and the fire in the corner is just dying out enough to see they are bedded down for the day.

Half of them use whatever they can find for blankets and pillows while a few actually have them.

Nan charges half her normal rate for the reception compared to the rooms, which means it’s always filled to the brim.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

I turn back to the desk when I hear her tell-tale shuffle.

She stops behind it, her curly grey hair perfectly held in place and I shit you not, she has on a pearl necklace and a faded red cardigan.

She looks like someone's sweet little old grandmother - I asked her once why the get up and she told me people see what they want to, they never expect a little old lady with pearls to shoot them in the face. She earned my respect that day .

“The fuck do you want at this time?” I smile at her beyond happy to give her the news.

“Dead body in room three,” I say cheerfully.

“Motherfuckers best not have stained my floor. Stupid ass pigs can’t even take it outside. I don’t need any bodies in my establishment. When I find them, I’m going to skin them alive and use their balls for earrings.” She gripes.

I bite my lips to hold in my laugh as she rants. She stops and she squints as she eyes my jacket and bag and then huffs.

“Ya heading out?” Nodding, I quirk my eyebrow at her.

“Be back tomorrow, only going to the inner. Rumour has it your latest bill is there.”

“Be careful will ya, heard there were some raids there yesterday. Stupid clans and their fighting,” she fiddles with her pearls as she speaks and glares at the naked arse behind me, looking completely disgusted.

“Aww, Nan, I knew you cared about me,” I say sweetly and lean over and kiss her wrinkled cheek before she can grab her gun.

“Fuck off. You always pay your room and don’t leave any bodies. That's the only reason, I tell ya.”

I offer her a cheery sarcastic smile and then head out for the day. When I get outside the sun beats down on me, I can already feel the heat on my skin making me sweat. I pull my shades from my canvas bag and cover my eyes. It’s going to be a long fucking day.

Making my way through the deserted streets, I wander in the silence just taking in the quiet, letting it wipe away the last of my nightmares.

The city looks different in the daylight, more ruined.

It reminds you of what the world is like now.

No clean streets and white picket fenced homes here, no, this is a halfway between hell and more hell.

People don’t dress in suits and talk constantly on their phones.

They don’t moan about delays or traffic, they’re just happy to be alive.

The gate buzzer goes off when I approach it, I wait for it to swing open and then step through. It buzzes shut behind me straight away. I look out at the dead wasteland that stretches before me and with a sigh, I get to work.

The abandoned house looks like it’s about to fall down.

The walls are covered in cracks and the windows are smashed.

The wooden front door is at an angle and covered in who knows what.

I look back down at the bill Nan slid under my door last night.

Easy work, find the man and drag him back to The Rim.

I get more if he’s alive but if need be dead is fine too.

Idiot must have killed someone important or pissed off the wrong man.

His last known whereabouts were to the north of The Rim, somewhere in the abandoned town of Spring.

So that’s where I am now, the town itself is tiny, only five buildings remaining.

The others have either been demolished or burnt down.

The one road in and out is filled with large potholes, big enough for a man to fall in.

The road signs are covered in spray paint and bullet holes.

I checked the other four buildings before finding myself outside this house.

One that was once a supermarket, the aisles filled with debris and sand, the glass sliding doors missing.

There was even a decomposing body down the fruit and veg aisle, I guess that counts as fresh food, right?

The others included an office building, a block of flats, and a church.

I don’t particularly believe in god, but seeing the bodies and ruins inside that holy building made me wince.

A once beautiful stained glass window lay in shattered pieces among the pews, letting in the sand from outside.

All the valuables had been looted, leaving it an empty skeleton of what it used to be.

The flats made even my darkened soul cry out, the carnage inside so heinous I had to close my eyes.

After I found a little girl's body, broken and mangled curled around a doll, I hightailed it out of there to check the other buildings first. I didn’t bother checking all of the office building, the sand and dirt in the entrance and stairs making it clear no one had been there in a long time.

It was like a vault, preserving our old lives perfectly.

Mugs lay half full on desks, computers dark waiting for the staff to start their day.

I wonder if I would be somewhere like that, if the world hadn’t gone to shit.

Thinking about that sort of thing isn't good but I can't help but wonder who I would be in the old world. Would I make my dad proud? Would my family and I be the type to gather around every Sunday to catch up? Would I be married? Would I have kids? The thought sends a pang through me, I’m not the nurturing type but maybe in another life I would have been.

Shaking my head and the thoughts away, I concentrate on the now.

With all the other buildings empty, that only leaves this house. I shove the bill with the guy’s description back into my bag and crack my neck from side to side. Striding to the door, I bang on it three times. I hear scuffling behind it, but no one answers. Really?

“Who is it?” The scared, weasley voice rings through the closed door.

“Girl scout.” Cue more shuffling.

I sigh and wind my hair around my head in a braid, just in case.

I also drop my bag and pull off my jacket.

They either always fight or run and I have to be ready for both.

Nan gave me my first bill the day after I turned up at The Rim.

She told me either I’d die or come back for more, she was right of course.

The thrill of the hunt, fighting and the adrenaline is amazing.

But the best bit is, for once I’m hurting people who deserve it, people like the ones who hurt me.

“Go away,” the voice is higher pitched and brings me back to where I am.

Fine, let’s do this the hard way. Not bothering to reply, I step back and with all my power, kick the door open.

It slams inwards and I hear the man trying to run.

I roll my eyes and step into the house, scanning the room taking in the cans laying everywhere and the dirty blanket on the floor.

A man is frantically trying to yank open the other door, I stride towards him and grab his collar.

“C’mon, it’s over.” He tries to wiggle away; this guy does not know when to give up.

He jumps forward and I let him go, he turns towards me and holds out a tiny knife.

I’m pretty sure it’s a kitchen knife, his arm is shaking so bad it wobbles.

I'm betting he’s never even used it, how the hell he made it out here this long, I’ll never know.

By the smell in the room, I’m guessing he ran and holed himself in this house and hasn’t left since.

“Just leave,” he pleads, his eyes wide showing the white. They dart around searching for an escape.

“Can’t do that Jim, you’ve been bad, so they sent the devil,” I say, stepping to the left, sometimes my words and acting hard are enough for them to give up but not this guy. He follows me with the knife.

“Do it or I'll cut you,” his voice gets higher and his head swings as he searches for a way out of this mess.

“No thanks, I’ve got enough scars,” I say conversationally. I step back and his arm lowers slightly thinking his threat has worked. Honestly, it’s a little insulting.

Before he can lift his arm again, I snap mine back and punch him straight in the face. He goes down hard with a bang, like a bag of rocks. Kicking the knife away from his hand I crouch down in front of him.

“Couldn’t just do it the easy way could you?” with a disgusted noise, I stand up and shake my hand out. I turn to the room and spot a dirty looking rucksack in the corner. I make my way to it as I ignore his crying.

“Don’t move, Jimmy boy,” I point to him and then crouch down to the bag. I’m searching through it when I hear him trying to push himself up.

“You crazy bitch,” his voice is nasally, huh, guess I hurt his nose.

Why am I always a bitch or a whore? Can’t they get creative with their insults?

I stand back up after seeing he has nothing of value.

He’s laid half propped on the floor, blood dripping slowly from his nose.

Damn, I didn’t break it. I must be losing my touch.

“C’mon, dude, time to go back to The Rim,” I march over to him, bracing myself as I haul him up, my muscles straining in the process. I take one last look around for anything of use and when nothing stands out I march him out before me. On the way out, I kick the door shut behind us.

I push him down the road, the once white lines that used to indicate the middle worn away.

We walk around the holes on the way out of town.

The sun is high in the sky beating down on us making me overheat, so I take my jacket off and shove it in my bag.

I leave my hair on top of my head to get some air on my neck.

I eye Jim wearily; he’s sweating like a pig and crying to himself.

Convinced he’s not going to try anything, I search through my bag looking for the tin I shoved in earlier.

Aha, I yank it out and unsheathe my knife and stab it into the lid, lifting it easily.

When it’s off, I put my knife away and using my fingers eat the canned peaches as I walk.

He stops and stares at me, the hunger evident on his gaunt face.

“You going to share?” he whines. I roll my eyes but don’t answer. I was right, it’s going to be a long day.