The Navy Leg

It was only a few years ago when I first turned a corner, and frankly, hell doesn't bother me. I mean, who would've thought that a fourteen-year-old brat and a twenty-two-year-old small juggernaut would rule the plundering going on in Bedrock. Bedrock: the underground large sewer tunnels that burrow everywhere from the Interior to the Slums.

Of course, if we had found a way to the Interior, we would be there already. Unfortunately, you can't.

"Oi!" I turn around, a shiver runs down my spine. Ha, not really. I stare into his cold, dead eyes, which, knowing him the best, I know he's not entirely stoic and sadistic as everyone thinks he his. "Do you know how long you've been staring out that window?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure you're going to tell me." I sigh.

He scoffs. "Tsk, four hours, dumb ass, since seven in the morning. It's time to go, we have a job to do."

I don't answer. Instead, I keep staring out the window. They've left four months ago. Four months, and they promised to be back in three, but they haven't come back yet. I don't even know why I'm so worried, I mean, I left for the better, but those people were still my family.

Those Gypsies.

Maybe I shouldn't have left.

It's not happening now, but a few minutes--seconds even--there were lights in the sky. That's our only means of communication. I don't tell anyone this, because I think he already knows, but I like to read the lights in the sky. It's kind of like reading a newspaper.

But really, you're never gonna read anything in the sky that doesn't metaphorically and literally scream "I'm dying, help me," or "Someone's gonna die." 

He sighs, my partner. His name is Maverick Blaze or The Blade as people call him. No doubt, he's exceptionally skilled with the knife, and he's stiff and cold like one. Very sharp, too. It's funny though, that they have a nickname for him, but not really for me. The most I've ever heard of myself was Navy Leg, and honestly, it's a shitty name. They normally just call me That Girl, and I think I like that better. If I could name myself, I would name myself The Gun, you know, like a ying-yang kinda thing, I mean we're partners! 

Ah, but as everyone else has said, majority rules. That's not applicable if it goes against what I say.

Mav sighs, "Ugh, there's no time for this, I'll do it myself. Just be depressed someplace where no one can see you and give a shit."

"Mav, I..." I sigh myself, jumping at him to give him a hug. "I'm sorry, I'll go." I feel like crying. Unlike Mav, I'm definitely not the stoic type, and I take out my feelings on other people, especially the one's Mav's against.

Wow, way to sound completely dependent ass clown.

I was talking to myself, sorry.

He grunts, and then sighs. A lot of sighing happens around here. Not in the sexual way, and if you sigh sexually I think you have some serious issues, bud. That's not the sound that should come out of your mouth, not that I know or care perverts! 

He pats my head, and ruffles my hair, a thing he does I find strangely comforting. "Er...alright." I let go. "I don't understand why you like watching out the window anyway. What's there to watch?"

He's right. Everywhere around us are just high ceiling sewers enclosed in every way, except for the small cracks in the pipes that show flashes of light, the only way to communicate from afar.

"What do you think?" I snap. "I can't help but feel anxious, you know."

"Fine." He responds coldly. "I'll leave you to it, then." He puts on his gloves, taking his knife. "It's a simple job anyway, I'll be done soon, just don't get yourself killed."

"You too..."

I don't know why he saved my life, and I don't feel like asking, anyway. I don't understand him sometimes, but it's hard to forget that you're the one who understands him the most. The thing that's most puzzling about him is how he's the most selfish and the most generous person at the same time. No, in ways he was selfish, but for the most part, he was selfless.

I mean, why would a guy like him be a thug anyway? His incredible strength would suit him well for the protecting of the outside walls, you know, like being a member of the Corpals. But to be honest, he'd just waste his talents if he took any of those jobs. So, yeah, I guess being this is best case scenario.

But still, it's not like he was ever in the academy in the first place. He's lived here all his life, but I feel like I've met him before he saved me, god, it's like I'm losing my mind. He's so difficult, I don't understand it, but he's like my brother, no, he is my brother.

I always have the same dog tags around my neck to remind me of the people I lost, and the people I loved. And as stupid as it sounds, I always etch the person's name that I love on these dog tags and keep them on there.

I am glad that he is how he is, though, just a stuck up guy with a stick up his ass, and me, the asshole sassy "mutant" latina who's hatred and anger shows more than anyone else in the Slums. I also exaggerate to make myself sound cooler. Don't pretend you don't do the same.

God, I wish I could make it into the Interior. Apparently, there's actually water there, as opposed to here, there's no water.

No water at all.

All of it, buried and ruined by the dust, and the crops we make all ruined by the dust. Man...those assholes in the Interior have no idea what's it like. One day, Mav and I are gonna live there. And if not, I'd die happy if I could just kill one of the fuckers who live on the inside.

Milk is all we have. Milk from the goats, buffaloes, cows, sheep, camels, and coconuts. Of course that kind of milk grows near the Interior where the water is almost close enough to grow them.

The only thing bad about milk is we use it for everything. So where does that excess milk go? The sewers, and rotten milk smells bad as fuck, but at least all the dust ruin our lungs before we can really smell anything.

And it doesn't bother me one bit. I don't know, maybe its' the fact that anyone can get used to anything. But I'm sure, the one thing I can't used to is...

Being alone, even though I'm better off.

Anyway, as fun as it is to watch the tiny slivers of light from outside the sewers, it's almost time to see them come back. Not that I've actually ever gone to see them, but I might as well do it now.

I take my ukulele with me; one of the few things that I kept from the group. I'm the only one who can play it.

Am I proud that I left the gypsies? No. I mean it's not like I can show my face outside of the sewer walls where most likely no one will give a shit if I was. That is also a lie. All these people in these sewers don't have a home. They don't have a life. They have nowhere, and if one were to mess with someone the strength of Maverick, then they'd give up nothing.

Because nothing is all they have, unfortunately. They plunder, and they're all crazy, but it's not like you can't live in these sewers. I mean, houses were made from old pipes. But not us, no. We live on the corner of three sewer pipes coming together.

I'm not proud to be with Mav, but if it means not being alone, then of course. It's weird though, when I'm with people, I'd rather be alone, but when I'm all alone, I'd rather be with people. Still, people are fascinating. Fascinating assholes, that is.

Luckily, there are many perks to not being alone. Of course, being the prepared freak I am, I decided to make many ways in and out of the sewers. For one, there's a huge pipe that goes upward into the surface where the walls are thin enough to push and squeeze through the opening.

That, and you can always go through the toilet, although no one actually does that. We may be thugs but we're also dignified thugs.

That was my same thinking for coming through to the interior but sadly, that's never happened.

I come out of the pipe and a navy blue bandanna over my face and to tuck most of my hair in to cover who I truly am. No could know who I am, which is total bullshit, just saying.

I mean, I have the worst luck. My eyes are green, for a start, which is actually quite rare, but not an entire danger if you walk like everyone else walks. I have white hair, which can be mistaken for blonde if walk in dark places enough, although, no one ever does. There's a scar on my left cheek, that touches the tip of my mouth. Not to mention, I'm a girl.

And then there's Maverick. Sure, he's the sneakiest bastard that's ever lived to sneakily become a bastard and stab your throat out before you can say, "Hey, you sneaky bastard!" The only problem to that is, even if he was to change his whole appearance, he'd still have the eyes. The eyes that intimidates everyone. He looks quite young, maybe even twelve but his eyes has the look of a potential fifty year old murderer.

They say he has the eyes of Kin, but I'm just saying right now, that I know what his eyes look like, and Mav has blue eyes. Deep, dark blue eyes and thin sharp, black eye brows, complimented by his short black hair.

No such thing as going complete incognito without looking suspicious for being incognito.

And everyday, when I come out, there's always a chance of me being caught. Maverick takes the easy way out, which actually isn't all that easy for most people. If you wanna get out, you have to have a sort of ID and some cash to get past the 'Corpals.' The Care Operation Repairing the People's Attributes Blah Blah Blah Shit That Doesn't Make Sense, Safety. Whatever the fuck that means. And no that's not the easy way out. I mean, they're the asshole good guys and we're thugs, so you know how that works out.  Seriously, fuck those guys. However, we still have papers. 

I should've gone with him, just to be safe.

Still, if you act idiotic and insignificant enough, you can pass off as one of the bystanders waiting and watching, moving about in their daily lives like they're drones with no say in what they're doing, which is moving about in their daily lives...if that makes sense.

I stand in the back corner, just behind the tower where the Light Man and Gate Watchers do their jobs. A storm is brewing. And when a storm brews, it means bad shit. A lot of people die from not having enough sunlight, or starvation, or their dust-clouded lungs and the lack of medicine. Hooray for evolution, our bodies are getting used to such a thing, but that doesn't mean we can instantly stop having the need to breath or absorb sunlight.

I hear a rustling behind me. My Bedrock instincts kick in.

I back away and point my gun to the alley, though I don't see anything.

"Who the fuck's there?!" I cry.

Behind me, a hand squeezes my shoulder, and I almost flinch but suppress my surprise. I turn around slowly, and I put my gun away. Blake. That's his name. Some Twenty-five-year-old bastard who's actually the most reliable out of everyone I've ever met, but in such a way that it's almost rude and patronizing.

Biggest downside, he smokes way too many cigarettes.

"Relax it's just me." He says, his eyes worried. "It's safe here."

I sigh, and shove him. "Am I supposed to be happy?" He raises a brow. "Because I'm not. I mean, yeah, glad you're safe and all, sort of, I mean, you're still an asshole...but...never mind. Just don't graduate to be a full ass just yet, asshole."

He chuckles. "I'm surprised you're alive. Well, not really. No one wants to take you in a dark alley."

I curtsy and brim my eyes with sarcasm. "Well dumb ass, it's kind of where we are right now, so I appreciate the gesture."

He pats my shoulder, knowing that Mav's usually the one who pats my head, which I find annoying. "So how'd you do it? I guess it was Maverick, huh?" I scoff and he lights his cigarette, puffing out a large cloud of pollutants. "Still, its not like I can't give you any credit. You held out for a long time."

"Why are you talking like that? And why are you here? Was Kendall busy?" I ask him.

"Jesus fuck, I can't even say anything without picking a fight with you. Time passed, little bunny, and so had my time."

"You mean you and the gang?" I don't even finish my statement without him nodding crazily and his eyes widening like the way he spreads his women.

"Seems like you didn't take any of that time to grow your brain." He chuckles. 

"Okay, well here's me using my brains: Leave before I'm caught." I roll my eyes.

"Calm down." He over exaggerates. "There's a storm brewing, nothing special." He sighs. "Besides, I'm sure they'll be here soon, the Gypsies."

"That's what they said yesterday and the day before. Today they'll say tomorrow, and tomorrow they'll say the same thing. Which is what again? Eh? Eh?" I nod before he answers.

"Tomorrow?" He starts.

"Yeah, that's right, tomorrow. Fucking tomorrow. Every single day. Every single fucking day is tomorrow. I mean, why not call today tomorrow already, that seems to be trending lately."

"Wow," He puffs out.  "That didn't take long at all. I thought 'Mav' would throw you out if you didn't fix your shitty everything."

"Okay, seriously, Mav is a stupid name and I hate it, and Maverick's not any better, please don't call him Mav." He starts to open his mouth, but I cut him off. "Yeah, I know, I know I say it, I just don't like it,"

He chuckles. "You weren't there when they left. So, you know, you can't really say anything to this right now."

"I..I didn't want to get caught."

"And what's so different from now?" He asks.

"You know what, why are we talking about me, let's talk about you, what kind of sick prostitute did you drug to be with you today?" I snap back.

"Because I'd rather not talk about me."

"You're just-"

"And this isn't about me trying to be stronger than Mav by being like him, either. That joke was kind of out of line, kid." He pats my back, smoking out another one. Ugh, I hate it when he calls me that. It's alright--sometimes--when other people say it, but with him...I still think he's half dick. "You're the one we're talking about here, answer the question."

"Why do you care?" I snap again.

"Because we're the best of friends now, aren't we?" He sighs. "Answer it."

I groan. "I mean...you did say it was safe, right?"

"Alright, let's be honest, when we say safe it doesn't exactly mean anything. I get it's a touchy subject, but I just wanna know, why'd you leave? I mean, you kept the guitar. Of course you'd keep that...nothing."

"Wow...you really are still on this subject. First of all--first of all, 'best buds' don't talk about when we weren't best buds, okay you socially inept retard. Okay, and then first of all, it's a ukulele, dumb ass. And second, I didn't like the violence."

"Did you even take a look where we are now."

"I don't want them to get hurt okay?"

"And its okay if we get hurt?" He raises a brow. "Me?" 

"...Maybe." I sigh. "And, oh, come on, you know the answer to that second question."

"Huh." I hear him say. "Still not over it?"

"Well, dick, I made a choice. A choice from fear. I mean, no, it's not okay--it's never okay for you to get hurt, but when it comes to choices, there isn't always another way. That's all just bullshit. Still it's good to be hopeful. Isn't it the same with you?"

He chuckles. "I misjudged you." It's my turn to raise a brow. That's right, prick. "Okay, okay, I know, sorry. You've definitely grown. Good luck. Don't die." He starts to walk off.

"You too." I smile. 

"They'll be here, soon. I guess you really don't have to keep telling yourself tomorrow. First rule Maverick always said, right?" He nods.

But before the two of us could really part, a sudden light flashes through the center, and the men at their posts start yelling, and the people in the gates, doing about their business and waiting for the signal are a little bit jumpy to see something.

"Harley-" Blake coughs and steps back, as a sudden cloud of dust hits the entire crowd, blinding everyone's vision.

"Why are you surprised, I told you, Harley!" He grabs my arm. "Let's get out of here." He coughs and starts hacking. Stupid storm. Everyone has fucking Whooping Cough because of you!

I cough."Are-Are you okay?"

He shakes it off. "Well if I die right because of you, don't take it too personally." He nods and coughs again. "Come on, let's just go, already! Quit twiddling your fucking thumbs."

"Wait!" Out of the corner of my eye, as the man at his post flashes the light, the shadow of a man emerges from the dust. My eyes widen, not caring if there's a storm or anything. I don't even care if my crops are ruined now, I need to be there when they come.

"Harley, no, don't wait!" He shouts at me.

"Who was that?" Someone calls out.

"I think someone's there?!"

"Who's there?"

"Are they back?"

Blake looks at me, and he covers his mouth and nose with his scarf. "Blake...I think they're back."

"Everyone!" The man at the light shouts. "Everyone head back, it's not safe right now, there's a dust storm, let's close the gates!"

"Wait!" I try to call out. "Wait, please, we could...we could..." Blake keeps grabbing me trying to cover my mouth. "Please! Please, it could be them--just--just open--just--Please!"

"Let's go!" Blake throws me to the alley, almost carrying me to the sewers. "Jesus Christ, I take back everything I just said."

"LET GO OF ME!"  I cry. I start hitting him but he wouldn't budge. "Goddammit, Blake, Just fucking let go of me, asshole!"

He coughs out a lot of dust, choking himself. His arms give out, and he falls to the ground, landing on top of my legs as the dust from the open sewer rushes in from the outside.

"Agh, Fuck!" I cry out, blood dripping from my hands and legs from crashing into the pipe. I duck away, pushing myself up and jumping on top of Blake to act as a cover from the dust. Which of course, doesn't exactly work since he's like a six foot tank and I'm just a five foot five starved girl.

"The manhole cover..." I start, coughing. "Blake, I'm gonna see if I can't close it, okay, you stay put--and cover the herpes-ridden-void that is your mouth, asshole!" I hear him cough out a chuckle. Right now, I'm a little happy that he didn't have a comeback, but, I mean, it is because he's kinda dying...yikes!

I throw his jacket over his face while I run to the manhole cover doing my best to actually put the manhole cover on the manhole. I jump, my fingers slip trying to grab onto the manhole, and then I fall, fitting the manhole in it's place.

"Good god..." I hear myself say. Mav's still out there doing his job, and I left him. And right now, this entire section of the sewer is dusty and filled with sick people who're only going to get sicker from all this dust.

"Blake? Blake, are you okay?!" My strength doesn't exactly reach to the point where I can carry any man with 160 pounds of muscle. "Agh! Shit! Goddammit, Blake, get up!" He groans, and I put his arm around my shoulder, pushing my weight to the side of the sewer where he uses his arms to push along with me.

"Blake...Blake!" I shout.

"Hmm..."He moans.

I draw in panicked breath. "The dust...it's everywhere, you don't think my home's been hit, right?"

He groans out, "W-why does it matter? It's not like you're that allergic to it."

I sigh. "I know...but..." There was something in there that I need to get. Something that Mav thought was so important that he's been keeping some jobs away from me.

Maybe today was one of them? Maybe that was why he didn't fret so much when I wouldn't go with him. Still, we stick together. We do things together. Whatever was in there had to be something that really mattered, something that was dangerous, too.

After a few turns in the sewers, the entire house seemed to be engulfed in piles and piles of dust. I turn to my right and even the entire sector is filled with dust, even when the manhole was covered anyway. Not many people know the ways in and out, so why is there dust coming inside.

"Blake...I don't hear anything..." I say, and I set him down, dusting away at the corner. "Blake, there are no sirens, the entire sewer is filled with dust, what do we do?"

"I don't know, just...go, get what we you were looking for."

The thing is, I don't know what I'm looking for. "Okay, I'm just gonna leave you here, okay? Don't die. Ever. Unless one of us kills you in which case is okay, so don't die!"

I was hoping for a sort of smile, but he didn't. He looked way out of it, his asthma slowly killing him and it's not like we have anything for lungs. The nearest so called 'hospital' is in another part of the slums and the over head tunnels are probably filled with thugs and people waiting to get inside the hospitals.

This was a shitty day.

And whatever that shadow was that moved in the Outlands was not the gypsies.

What's left of my leg strength kicks the door open, only to find not only endless bits of dust pouring through the top of the house where the other opening is, but blood. There's traces and trails of blood pouring from the center.

I cover my mouth. "Oh My God." I take out my gun, putting my finger above the trigger, keeping it to my side.

I follow the trail of blood with speed and silence, only to come across to the short stairs where a foot's sticking out. I almost scream in horror. "Who's there?!"

Not a sound.

But that person didn't seem like a bad guy. Those shoes look familiar...it was Maverick. Goddamn, he loves shoes, of course they're still clean.

"Mav?" I run upstairs, and then I turn the corner. "Mav!" His side is bleeding immensely; it looks like a stab wound. His body is struggling and his eyes are tense, pushing himself to grab something.

I rush to his side trying to help him up. I take my bandanna, as it is the only piece of substantial cloth that he could use for a bandage, and wrap it around his side. He's small but heavy because of his muscular physique.

"Ack!" I grunt. "You're really heavy, help me out!" To think, a five foot five guy who weighs a hundred and seventy pounds. That's all muscle.

He sputters to say something, but blood comes up from his mouth. I barely stand from the amount of weight leaning on my side and shoulders. "G-Gah..." He spits out, getting blood on my chest. I lift him to my back and he hugs the papers to his chest. "Y-You need...to go." He sighs and loses all consciousness.

"What? Wait! Mav! Maverick, what the fuck, help me out what happened?!" I cry, but he seems way out of it.

Great, now I have to carry him and Blake.

Through much struggling and effort, we make it to the ground of the sewers, the dust still coming in only not as much as before. I take a look around. "Blake?! Blake, where are you?" I call out, and no word.

On the corner, there was no Blake. Blake...I left him on this corner so where did he go? "Blake?!" I call out one more time.

A fist hits the back of my head, and makes me fall forward. Mav, who's still unconscious, lays to the side. I push myself up, kicking around me to feel a large foot. The sound of dragging comes to sound, and I start running towards it. The same fist the hit me, grabs my shoulder and grabs me from under, carrying me before I can escape.

The same hand covers my mouth and almost my entire face, squeezing so hard that my jaw is about to break. I start to struggle even more, not caring if I die, as long as I stop them from getting Maverick.

"MMM-HMMMMM-HMMMM-HMMMMMMM!" I cry, which was supposed to come out as, "Let Go of Me," But, you know, hand on my mouth, crushing my jaw kind of thing.

The sound of dragging starts to disappear. I don't know if I was being taken somewhere else, or the dragging was taken somewhere else, either way, this was bad, and I should've went with Mav. I should've went, no matter what he said. He didn't object like normal, he wanted me to stay.

I bit his hand, hard, biting through the bone. I wanted to live, and I wasn't going to let this punk ass fucker get in my way.

Blood sprays out of his hand, my head going down to hit the metal of the pipe, but my hands come down in time, stopping myself. The man's giant foot kicks my head, but I grab on, until he uses his other foot to try and scrape me off.

He tries pulling me up again, but I cling on tight, biting his leg and pressing all my weight on his single leg while he tries to scrape me off with his other foot, knocking him off balance.

I push myself up quickly, reaching for my emergency knife, but I didn't have time to kill him. I stepped on his head, just to be safe that he's unconscious, but then I started running.

I run to the other side of the sewer where Blake and I first came in, finding the shadow of the Maverick and the captor. This time, Maverick must have dropped what he had, buried in the dust that still continues to fall.

I don't care if I don't have my bandanna right now, the dust is enough to be a sort of veil to truly see what I look like. I jump at him before he can jump out of the manhole. The Captor has Maverick tied to his back, and me, hanging from his legs, unable to carry us both.

"Shit," He grunts with a sort of sneer, and we drop. I let go, first, grabbing his fallen body and punching him several times before stomping on his head again.

I tie off Maverick, but then without the weight, the captor jumps on top of me, pinning me down and stabbing my shoulders, ready to stab my head.

The weight of the Captor no longer leans on me. The same tall figure of Blake breaks the neck of the man. His limp is really obvious.

"Come on." He coughs, blood on his arm shows. "Let's go." He carries Maverick on his side, and I'm on the other. "We need to go before the Corpal soldiers are here." He lifts Maverick up first from the opening.

I reach for his hand and he grunts, as he pulls me up, "So tell me...was it really okay for Maverick to get hurt instead of your gypsy family?"

I didn't answer again. I hate it when he does that.

The dust on the surface is settling, which means there really is no time to spare. Everyone will see us, and being on the surface for us Bottom Dwellers is like an invitation to be prosecuted by the Corpal soldiers.

"Where do we go, now?" I ask.

He sighs. "I'll take you to Mariam's house. She has medical supplies, right?"

I nod. "Let's go."

Here, we live in the south-western sector, and Mariam lives in the eastern sector, which is pretty close to the Corpal Soldier Academy, or what is just known as, "The Academy." That place is a fucking nightmare. And it isn't so much as an academy as it is a series of outhouses strung together to be called 'rooms' and a large hut in the middle of the children's 'rooms' all within five stories.

Soon enough, we arrive. The same Corpal soldiers rushing towards the sewers, already knowing that there are dead bodies in there, although they usually don't bother. Again, they couldn't care less about us. We're like the subordinate to the most inferior. Still, they're really bothersome.

We knock on the door frantically, and no one comes to answer. We knock again. Nothing. One more time. Still nothing.

That's when I notice. I look to Blake. "Good god, Blake, you're bleeding!" I look to him. "Blake!" He fell to the ground, too, his chest bleeding internally, on his back, he's bleeding externally.

I knock with so much panic filling in my body, doing my best to keep calm. If I start screaming now, people will look at me suspiciously, and I can't have that.

"Let us in, please, help me, please!" I knock on the door louder and start to cry.

The window on the door shows a weird face that springs up, and the goofiest glasses and red hair. Her smile, is big, and the door suddenly opens.

"Hey! Harley, how have you been, it's good to see you, kid!" She squeals cheerfully, the unkempt woman whom I've known to be mental but loved.

"H-Help me..." My face showing no other emotion but fear and panic. She's still smiling her big-mouthed smile. I grab her brown jacket. "Help me!"

"Whoa, easy there?" She looks a little confused, her glasses acting as a head band for her short hair.

"Help me!" I cry one more time. Does she not get the point? I have two dying people right next to me. The Corpal soldiers almost realized what was going on, but continued with their sewer work.

A figure behind Mariam, Ms. Unkempt, I mean, is another tall man who's eyes almost glare at mine. He sort of smiles and takes Mariam's shoulders and pulls her back a little, bringing me with them. "Let's get inside."

"Ah, okay, I don't exactly know what the problem is, though." She then takes my shoulders and sits me down on the couch. Walker, the tall man, closing the windows. "So, what seems to be the problem."

"Put on your glasses, dumb ass, it seems like I'm the problem." I hear Maverick cough out, clutching his side, walking with Walker and carrying Blake.

"Mav! You're okay?!" I cry.

"I gave him something, he needs a little rest." Walker says.

"That surprised, huh, Lee?" Mav almost smirks, but still in a cold way.

"Ah, so that's why." Mariam chuckles. "I'm sorry, ah, I need to get some new glasses is all."

"Or maybe you should put them on." Mav grunts.

"Ah, Ha, Right!" She smiles. "My bad. I should take a picture." She grabs her camera, and sits back down in front of me. "It's a shame though, I thought you were here because you'd want to talk about things and maybe reminisce about the past."

Walker nods at us. "I'll take these two to a room."

"Wait, Walker!" I stop him. "Blake's internally bleeding, can we stop it?"

He shrugs. "Maybe. Would you be willing to help?"

I nod. "Yes, of course."

"Let's get going then."

Mariam stands up, helping me up and the two of us walk to rooms where Mariam conducts her stupid experiments with moving pictures and saving live animals and such.

She puts on a mask, and I take a seat on a bench, watching her work on Blake first, and Walker watching, looking over his shoulder from the window to see the moving Corpal soldiers.

"Those soldiers over there, do they have anything to do with what just happened?" He asks.

I shrug. "I'm not entirely sure." I sigh. "I was coming back from the gate and the storm blew in. Blake was with me, and we ran to the sewers. I left him in front of my house because it was dust filled, and I saw Maverick, bloody, reaching for something, and he fell unconscious. When I came back outside, I found Blake was gone, and these people tried to capture Mav, but Blake saved us and we came here."

"Do you know why?" He asks.

I shake my head. "No, I don't. It was a sort of package or those like, big papyrus envelopes, right? You know the ones I'm talking about?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, you know the ones I'm talking about." I sigh and cover my face. "Ugh! I should've went with him Fuck!"

"What was in the package?" Mariam asks. "Oh, I bet I can guess, also, pass me some of that blood over there."

"Okay." I grab a bag.

"Oh! No! Not that one." She runs from her post, pushing me aside and grabbing a new one.

"Why does it matter?" I ask.

"Hehe...sorry...well, there's this thing I stole-read from...somewhere that said that the type of blood matters. Unfortunately, I don't remember which blood is which, so I guess...we're going to have to guess!"

"What?!" I cry.

"So I'm sure I can guess what's in that package." She cuts me off. "Is it...money? Candles? Shoes? Probably Candles. He likes those shoes more than me."

"He likes a lot of things better than you, Mariam." I explain.

"Ha, well, that is classic Maverick!" She chuckles. "Okay, Blake should be good. Can you take over for Mav for a little bit, I'm going to see if I can't get more alcohol."

I nod, and get up. "Sure."

"Haha, Okay!" She takes off her mask and brings a tray of illegally stolen, grown, and built medical supplies to the basement.

I take her bag of medical supplies, using a a clean rag and dipping some alcohol onto it. The bandanna is off and I clean the wound, then continue on with the stitches, hearing him groan in pain. Of course, he's still mostly unconscious so I don't apply any anesthetics, and I leave him there on the table, sighing.

I sit next to him for a while, holding his hand and giving it a squeeze. I hope he turns out alright. I hope Blake turns out alright. I hope they all turn out alright.

Walker walks in and puts a blanket over me. "You should go."

"I'm sorry, for barging in like that and asking for your help like that." I apologize with much guilt.

"Hmm, it's alright. There's some heated milk outside, you should get some rest."

I nod. "Thank you."

Of course, it's not like I actually do get any rest. I'm too busy looking outside, wondering what the world has become. Everything outside, everything out there right now is just a bunch of Corpal soldiers.

And damn do I hate those Corpal soldiers so much. But it's so hard for me to, because I've never actually hated anything with a passion.

My brother was a Corpal Soldier, and he was the strictest one. He would beat me up in the Academy to make me stronger, and there was a time he was somewhat okay, but I suppose after The Fire, none of us have been the same.

Mariam and Walker were my few acquaintances in the Academy, and after those horrible times, I remember meeting Maverick, just before I was up for my execution, and he saved me for some reason. I can't help but think that I've met him before that, but I can't remember...

Maybe I just can't remember everything, because everything that happens is normally drowned out by The Fire, and it's all I've ever dreamed about.

I sip my milk and Walker takes a seat next to me. "You should know...your brother is the leader of the North Sector."

"Good. I hope he stays up in the North for a long time, forever maybe, I don't know, maybe until he dies." I say bitterly.

"You're a child, Harley." He says.

"Yes. I've never thought anything else about myself, because I am still a child."

"I'm not asking you to feel absolute hate towards him, but if you don't, then stop acting like you do. That's what's making you a child right now."

I sigh. "Wow, great reasoning detective. Jesus, quit being a hard ass and let me sit here to think."

"Thinking as in sleeping, because you need to get some rest." 

"Right. Rest. Well you know what, sleep is for the weak, Walker." I call out as he walks towards the kitchen. "And I don't need it, because I don't!"

In my hands are the bandanna I took off from Mav, which is covered with his blood. I wash it off first, but return back to where  I was sitting and tie it around my face again.  I hate blood.

But of course, watching the outside is making me sleepy. Besides, the night's almost up, and when it's night, it's really dark and almost nothing is visible and you can hear nothing except for the Interior. And maybe, if you're really lucky, you'll hear the laugh of the Interior people living their life.

For some people that's an amazing thing, to be able to have some sort of indirect interaction with the Interior, but for me, that's also hell.

***

I wake up later, with Mariam sitting next to me this time. Her eyes and face are way to close to me, and I get up, she moves back.

"What is it?" I ask, groggily. She drags me along to the other room.

"Hehe, sorry, well, I do believe I know what's so important for someone to actually attack Maverick." She says.

"Wow, that is quite flattering ass-face but the most offensive part was when you said you my name." Maverick says, groggily as well.

"Ah, good, you're awake."

"Mav..." I start, but then I see the empty table. "Where's Blake?"

"Ah, well, you see, he didn't make it." She chuckles a little. "Ah, I suppose I didn't use the right blood, I better organize next time, heh, sorry."

I feel disgusted. "Why are you laughing, ass face, are you really that insane to laugh at something like this?" Mav grunts.

"Ah, sorry."

"Quit fucking apologizing to everything." He grunts. "Other than the blood that's on my shoes, seriously, have some decency, we're both dignified men."

"Right, sor...eh, ah, anyway, I am a woman," He raises a brow, "and it's good you're awake. We need to talk about what happened." She says.

"Harley...I don't remember anything." He palms his forehead. "What happened?"

A sudden burst of anger rushes through my blood, and I slap him and smack his face hard. "What happened? What the fuck, Maverick?!" I cry. "There's something you've been keeping from me, and now our house is ruined, people are looking for us, Blake's dead, and you're asking me what the fuck happened?! I don't know, Maverick, what the fuck did happen?!"

He hesitates for a second. His face still red and tilted to the right where I left him when I smacked him. He finally looks to me.

"Calm down." He says in his cold, calm manner. "I'm asking you what happened that lead me here. God, I feel like I'm having an intense hangover."

"What? No apology? Well, guess I knew I shouldn't expect it." I sigh.

Mav immediately starts and grunts a little annoyed, "This isn't the time, Lee."

"Time for what? To thank me for saving your ass? You know you can be sensible and emotional at the same time too, you know."

"Tsk, well you already know I am sorry-"

"Ah, too late."

He sighs. "Maybe if you just learned that your emotions get in the way a hell of a lot, like the way you constantly seek my approval-"

"Well you left me alone, remember?" I explain. "I went to see if they were at the gate; they weren't. Blake was with me, and the dust hit, so we went to the sewers because I was planning to keep him at our house so he could get better. But our house was filled with dust, and when I came in, I saw it was full of blood, your blood, and I saved you. You had something, someone tried to capture us, Blake saved us, and now we're here."

"The thing." He grunts. "That papyrus, the package, where is it?"

I shrug. "Uh, I don't know. You dropped it. It's somewhere under the dust of our home."

He pushes himself up. "We need to go. Harley, we need to go, now!" He starts to fall as he loses his balance.

"Whoa! Whoa, easy there!" I say. "What is it?"

He sighs. "The Interior. That thing that I risked my life for was the map of the Sewers."

"Yeah, so? We know our way around the sewers why would we need it?" I ask.

"The Sewers go under the Interior, too." Mariam explains.

"Sure, yeah, a separate sewer system." I then say.

Walker, who has been leaning on the door this whole time, then adds in, "Not true. It doesn't exactly make sense that there would be a separate sewer system for the Interior. The interior is in the center of the entire slums, the sewers would have to connect someplace, but I'm sure they've blocked the entrance to those sewers." He looks at Maverick. "That's what those maps are for, right?"

He nods. "We could break the entrance, but there's no way to get through to the exits. I've seen them. They're all microscopic like holes that pour out their dirty water. I've tried breaking in, but the metal is too thick to stick a knife through and bullet proof. These Interior bastards know their stuff."

Mariam stands up. "Ah, well, I see now. There is something I'll show you too, if you'll follow me."

"I'm not following you, I'm following Harley." Mav says behind me.

"Ah, sorry, but I don't think that's anyway to thank us, no? For saving you?"

"Tsk. We'll I'm not proud that you did, but I'm certainly not ungrateful, just don't expect a thank you." He explains.

"Ah, I suppose that's fair."

"Never the type to anyway, Maverick." Walker says.

"Here we are!" Mariam says cheerfully. She points to her garden of plants. Except, this food that they're growing is hardly even growing at all.

"What happened?" I ask.

"Well, this is the result of using milk on plants for a long time." She sighs. "Unfortunately, this is the rate that our food grows in. In fact, most plants don't even sprout. There is no more water in the Slums and it has been that way for a long time, but for a while, this milk has been our savior. We used milk for everything, bathing, drinking, planting, but we'll need water soon. The dust of our poor farming has created large dust storms, because of the lack of water we have in the Slums, but it doesn't affect much of the Interior because of their water underground.

"If we don't get water soon, we won't have any food, and the storms will keep brewing. The amount of milk we have slowly deteriorating as the amount of our milk makers and people are dying. We need to let the water back into our sewers and our fresh water systems." Mariam explains.

"Wait." Maverick says. "There's something else I remember. I remember...I was looking for the entrances on the way back from the job. Then I saw people were following me...and I chased them out or something. Those dumb asses with their loud voices were yelling something stupid, but it sounded like...it sounded like they were yelling The Kin. Like, they were saying he's back." His grip became tighter.

"The Kin?" I ask. "Are you saying that they attacked you to finish what The Kin started?"

"I'm not like him, Lee! I'm not going to hog that water for myself and act like a hero, a god, no, I'm getting that water to save the people of the Slums, dammit!"

"Ah, maybe it wasn't that they were trying to finish the job..." Mariam adds. "Or that The Kin is really back."

"No..." I look down. It can't be. "There was a man in the shadows of the dust storm, outside of the gate right before they were about to close it."

"It may be true." Walker says. "It's not that hard to believe that the Kin is back. The barber shop was closed today when I came back. There were what I think are footprints inside, and the glass was broken." He shakes his head.

"T-that could've been anyone!" I shout. "Besides, there were no dead bodies, right?"

"I came to look for...and I didn't see..." He looks at me in surprise and shakes his head. "Never mind."

"That's right! Never mind!" I cross my arms.

"Still...if there's a possibility..." Walker thinks aloud.

"I don't give a damn, we're not going after him! You're all fucking insane!" I shout. "We don't even know what he looks like!"

"That's right, but we will soon, because he'll be after us, Lee," He gets up and walks towards the door.

"And we know what he looks like. It's not a face you'd want to see again." Walker explains.

"Bu-"

"I'm heading out. I'll get those maps." Maverick sits up. "For now, just calm down, okay?"

Don't go. Please don't go. I never thought he'd come back. This town is falling apart, I hope not everyone's dead. If he caught up to the Gypsies I'd never forgive myself. Whoever this Kin guy was, I wouldn't just let Mav handle it by himself.

Although, I wish we wouldn't get into this kind of trouble all the time.