Chapter 3: Chaotic Culture III

Cold wind blew through the waterfront. The battle was over.

The remaining four Dragons had returned to check out the place in the meantime. A slightly dried pool of blood was still there, and all their fallen allies as well, their bodies already showcasing faint signs of healing over the time they’d laid in that place. Despite that, it would still take a long while before they were in any condition to move again, provided they managed to survive once their drug’s effects wore off.

“Strange… Where do y’all think DK went?”

“Meh, who cares? They probably just took the fight somewhere else.”

“Yeah, boss’ll be back with her head in a bit. Let’s just get the rest of the guys!”

While walking about, they proceeded to lift up a few of the injured, most of them unable to move on their own. Their voices echoed aimlessly around the harbor as they labored about, carrying bodies back and forth and piling them up in a corner, perhaps planning to carry them all together in one big pack and move out.

“Man, what a mess. We really did these assholes good!”

“Couldn’t we have just waited for it to finish drying up!? This shit is gluing my boots to the floor!”

“Who cares? Don’t be a wuss!”

“Do we seriously have to pick these guys up?”

“Well, it’s a standard thing. ‘Sides, King will have your ass if you don’t. One more of us on the floor is one more the patrol will have available to interrogate later.”

“Don’t remind me. Those guys can be wild sometimes –”

“But how’re we gonna pick up this many people anyway?”

“Wait a sec, shut up!”

Covering two of his comrades’ mouths, one of them had suddenly started whispering, urging the others to do the same.

“What?”

Silently, he pointed towards the edge of the dock where the gravel floor ended, and a lone girl stood beside an old wooden bench with her back turned, staring into the black of the sea.

Somehow, they hadn’t noticed her there thus far, but there she was all of a sudden, startling the four.

Few moments later, she turned her head around.

 “Yo, Dragonheads. Your leader’s been taken care of.” she declared, moving away from the border and walking towards them with a smile on her pale face.

One of them stumbled back and fell, while the other three assumed defensive positions. She showed no intention of stopping.

“C’mon, move it. We’ll give you ten minutes to pick the rest of your people and go back to Central City. If you’re still here after that, then we’re coming after you.”

“Whe-Where’s boss?”

“Right over there.” she said, pointing back with her thumb “I’d hurry up if I were you.”

The Dragons looked into the distance.

“What? B-but… There’s nobody… Over there?”

Passing the four, she lowered her hood-covered head, not turning back for a moment.

They approached the border slowly, on short steps, one after the other, until a small crumpled cardboard box eventually came into view, placed behind the bench she had previously stood next to. The sticky feeling from stepping on that pool of blood had finally gone away, replaced only with the firm grip of their boots over the dry gravel in front.

Before their eyes, the object’s vague outlines steadily became clearer under the dim light as they closed the distance, and past the bench they finally reached it. A regular cardboard box, one of the various kinds generally used to store goods in the warehouses nearby, only slightly creased, and… somehow… The paving under them had suddenly gotten sticky again for some reason.

Looking down, they saw yet another, smaller puddle of red, slowly spreading across the rough floor as it surrounded the box and soaked its now crimson-colored base.

“…All… in a day’s work, huh…?”

“I hate this job.”

“Yeah, me too.”

***

 

07:25 P.M. Only 45 minutes until curfew.

The streets were scorching from early April’s sun, even though it should be setting soon. Stepping out onto the quiet, nearly empty Suburban streets, Emily held her left index finger outward from her sleeve and felt the heat directly on its skin as it let out a peculiar sound, eerily akin to some sort of folded hissing.

It burnt. Quite badly, in fact. It wasn’t as fast as what she’d expect from a blown out summer day in July or August, but the pain was still intense. She watched as her pure white finger started to acquire a stronger shade, the smooth, pale surface from the second joint towards her nail becoming rougher, slightly more outworn as the white was slowly replaced by a pinkish, red blur.

She quickly pulled her finger back into her sleeve. Putting her own health in danger shouldn’t be part of her daily routine, she had to stop doing that.

(Now you’ll have to spend the rest of the day with an ugly burn scar on your index finger. Fantastic.)

Having finished her nap and left the old dusty building, she’d thought about buying something quick off one of the cheap food stands set up near the precinct and head somewhere else after, but she didn’t really feel like eating right now. Not really hungry.

She instead decided to just walk astray somewhere, the fiery sun ever hard on her. Although spring was still far from ending, most people were already switching to clothing more appropriate for hot weather, as the southern corners of the West District weren’t exactly known for low temperatures outside of winter.

She, however, wore a heavy, baggy hoodie instead, to hide from the sun.

It wasn’t perfect by any means, but she didn’t have any other options. Those had been custom-made specifically for her condition, using any other kind of clothing would’ve left far too many gaps for the sun to burn through.

As public schools did not provide any kind of storage service, students had to carry all school supplies by themselves, which resulted in a lot of sore backs and/or arms by the end of the day, and that too, didn’t help much regarding the heat. Nothing to do about that, though. Life wasn’t fair.

In order to facilitate passerby circulation during the night, as well as ensure the safety of all minors in Seagate City, a public curfew had been implemented exclusively for this age group, prohibiting any sort of night life for those younger than 18.

The sun had already started losing some of its brightness when she stepped out of the building, however, compared to a few hours prior.

The fastest route on foot from the library to her house would take about 25 minutes if she hurried. Sighing, she pressed forward. That was the kind of bothersome distance that would be considered too short for one to use transports, but was still a pain to go through on foot. She couldn’t get a license either, and had no idea how to ride a bike or anything of that sort, so Emily had had, therefore, to settle for her own scrawny legs.

Soon enough, the heat would finally start settling down. She could already feel a gentle breeze stroke her face.

The impossibly clean streets, the yells of children playing in the park a few meters away as tired parents called for them, and the large number of students and workers tiredly on their way home while talking among themselves granted the tiny suburb a rather peaceful atmosphere. That was what the UDS was. Warmth, prosperity and endless peace, so long as you knew where to focus your sights.

More unstable places like the Hoods would always come to her mind on occasion, still. Even though they weren’t a rare occurrence, it couldn’t be helped. No matter how much one improves a world, in a population of more than 2 billion people, someone will always end up falling too far from the tree.

Even so, one could not deny the world had changed for the better, regardless of how long it had taken…

“Heeeeyyyy! Don’t just go off without me like that, Emily!” came a loud cry.

The pale girl heaved a deep sigh.

(Already?)

“Honestly… What do you need now?”

Armetta had come running at her right as she walked out, like a tiny pet chasing after their owner.

“We left at the same time again today! I thought maybe you’d want to walk home together.”

“Not particularly.” Emily answered.

Ignoring her completely, the no-good library assistant kept on, still, speaking so fast each sentence nearly ran over her previous one.

“What? Why not??”

“It’s called me-time, and you're not me. So not today, alright?”

“Mmm? You always look so busy, even though you’re not… You’re weird, Emmy.”

“... Am I, now?”

***

 

“I mean, sure we won, but like, look at this mess!! My foot’s gonna take the whole night to grow back…”

The Phantoms had regrouped a few blocks away, hiding in a nearby alley while they waited for backup.

“Well, I’m not gonna complain. This could’ve gone a lot worse. I mean, I’ve never seen the Dragons so pissed before…”

“Yeah… I guess you’re right.”

Heavily wounded gang members were now lying on the cold floor, lined up as the others scattered around, some distributing tasks for the night, others simply resting as they waited for things to calm down.

Most of them had already gotten their bodies restored, close to full capacity even, given a good part of the damage dealt had been light in comparison, though it would take a lot longer for those lacking legs and heads to just get up, so a few had gathered around their them, using what doses of enhancers they had to help speed up things.

“Yo, where the hell is Kasey!? He was supposed to be in charge of the juice tonight!”

“Calm down. He’s probably late again. We can handle it until he arrives.”

“Fuck’s sake…”

At some point, the Phantoms had gotten used to referring to each other by one-word aliases based on random names, instead of their actual ones. Simplistic as it seemed, they saw no problem in keeping it going so long as it worked. Most of their behaviors and tactics, even, could be chalked down to that, after all.

“Keep moving those bottles along! There’s one half-headless chick here who’s starting to wake up!”

Their second-in-command, aliased Aaron for no particular reason, had been aimlessly trudging around the alley, supporting himself with an elongated piece of metal he’d decided to use as a makeshift crutch, even though his arms were in no better shape than his legs.

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Despite all the damage he’d suffered, it had only taken a few doses of haema to fix him up somewhat, although his injuries were still very noticeable. Not that they had any more to spare for him, of course. He’d recovered fast, especially in comparison to the others, further proving why he’d been assigned the position he held in the hierarchy.

Being that haema was distributed in many different classes and varieties, depending on the degree of purity of the provided substance, among other factors such as dilution and added properties, where one chose to get their own supply could make all the difference regarding what parts of their body would be enhanced, as well as the effectiveness of the enhancement itself.

However, how one’s senses and abilities were boosted did not depend solely on the quality and variety of the material, but also on a given person’s natural predisposition for said boost. Most of the delinquents that walked those streets specialized on specific sets of combinations, which included different attributes such as strength, eyesight, hearing, reflexes, dexterity, among others, each varying widely in precision and balance. Augmented resistance and a strong healing factor were the only ones everyone shared, invariably. Anyone with the substance in their system could not cease bodily functions, no matter how severe the damage sustained.

More than anything else, controlling haema required patience and experience. Someone taking it in for the first time, in about 40% of instances, would easily end up drunk on it, some even to the point of fainting. The remaining 60% couldn’t take it, and died instead. As for the survivors, most people would need to go through the process about three thousand times or more before they were even able to move properly, let alone fight in that state.

But of course, in the end, some adapted faster than others, and once one got used to the many differences in movement and footing pressure between an enhanced state and the base one, using it on a daily basis would soon allow mere street delinquents to become strong enough to plunge through walls or fast enough to outrun a train.

That was also the main reason why haema was so greatly consumed. Just one dose was enough for anyone to become indestructible. Just like that, death was no longer a possibility. Death did not exist for them anymore.

In that day and age, the only way to completely eliminate an individual would be to somehow erase them all at once, and even then there would be no guarantees. Just one little piece of skin was enough for one to be brought back.

“How many injured?”

That was what had allowed the Phantom’s leader to survive as many battles as she had.

The pale girl’s voice had just joined the group’s chatter, without a single hint or warning.

Jumping down from a small building nearby, she landed next to the line of injured, taking her subordinates by surprise.

“Welcome back, boss! You solved that quicker than we…! Oww…”

She inspected her comrades with sharp eyes, trying to assess their situation. Some of them lay on their backs in the concrete, but most of them had been sitting against one of the old walls, slowly regaining consciousness.

As he approached her to try and report, Aaron’s strange stick suddenly broke in half against the concrete, sending him to tumble at an unusual angle before she caught him by the back of his torn shirt.

“Sit down, already. You’re no use looking like that.”

“Right… Understood.”

“Good grief. I don’t want to lose any more manpower…”

After helping him down, she turned back to the others.

“Anyway, is everyone from the fight still here?”

“Yeah. Fourteen total still badly wounded.” answered another from among the group “The rest of us have some ugly cuts too, but it’s mostly just minor stuff.”

“Alright. Keep giving them the juice. They should be okay after a few gallons and some four or five hours of rest. Until then I’ll have someone take over their positions.”

“Uh-huh.” murmured one of them.

“Anyone with lost limbs will have to wait ‘till late morning. No more lazing around by the time of the next night.”

Everyone nodded.

“Anyone who can’t move properly goes home. Those who had their legs cut and can’t walk properly can pick one of those sticks over there if they feel the need.”

 As many of the members of shift 1 started leaving, the newly arrived ones replaced them, as more messages popped up notifying proper arrival to their respective posts through the network.

“As for the rest, you’ll stay around here tonight and help shift 2 with the remaining tasks, understood? When in doubt, ask them.”

“If it’s okay, I can take it from here, mistress.” Aaron intervened.

 She had previously assigned him to the role of supervisor, so it was only natural for him to try and take back charge of his position. The very worst mistake one could make in that line of work was to seem unreliable to their superiors.

“Fair enough. Keep an eye on the docks. See if our friends have already left or not. See where they go, and if they try to come back.” she told him.

“Uh, right. Understood, boss.” he agreed, quickly merging with the rest of the crowd.

“How’s everything in the other areas so far?”

“I contacted them all a few minutes back. There are no Dragons in sight anywhere else in Seagate. They’re already changing shifts as well, so operation is resuming as usual.”

“Perfect.”

She then turned her attention to the others and raised her voice:

“Listen up, people. With half of shift 1 on recovery we will have less reinforcements in case something actually serious happens tonight. This was a small shakeup, our operations haven’t suffered damage on even this scale in months, so there’s always some other gang or another who might try something funny. If it ever comes to that, you know what to do!”

The small crowd cheered and shouted. There was nothing they loved more than a good scuffle.

“Because of those cheap write-offs earlier tonight, y’all have a lot of work left to do today, so no slacking off!”

As she spoke, a tall girl groaned in the back, catching her attention.

“Any problems, Hilda?”

“N-No, mistress!”

“Good. Everybody present and accounted for shift 2 on the waterfront?”

Most of them nodded.

“Group 4-A, listen up! I got an extra task for you, aside from the usual. The scraps from when we looted the mart last week. Never gave them use, so go throw them in the Hoods, yeah? Those apes might like it.”

“Yes, boss!” they yelled in unison.

“Now get back to work, you clowns!”

One by one, all of the Phantoms started running and jumping around, disappearing around the corners of the alley and back to the streets, up the walls and over the roofs as they headed to their respective targets.

Now left alone in the alley, she jumped toward a nearby roof. Jumping along vertical surfaces such as walls was easy, she just had to mind her footing and be wary of frictionless sills.

The sky was clear, aside from the moon shining through it, its dim light allowed her a clear view of the almost completely flat rooftop. Taking out her disposable cell phone, she verified a number of unread messages and missed calls from the same person.

What did Roger want this time?

By that time, Roger’s seeking team should’ve been surveilling the other side of the UC. He was only allowed to contact her, or anyone higher than him in a few extreme cases, so receiving a call from a subordinate at that time rather annoyed her.

She pressed a few buttons and waited for him to answer.

“Ma’am?”

“Speak up.”

“We found Vince.”

Her eyes widened. Shortly after, she spoke again.

“Did you capture him?”

“It’s complicated…”

“How so? Where are you now?”

“Between some buildings around Paramount street, right next to the subway. I can send you the coordinates.”

“I know where it is. Did you capture him or not?”

“We found… How do I say this? We found… his dead body lying on the floor… basically?”

“Okay, not bad. I’ll meet you there on my own, no need for reinforcements. Anything else?”

“Yeah, there’s also two other other guys lying next to him in a similar state, and some dropped canisters of haema too. He was probably trying to sell it to them.”

“Hmm… I expected as much. Well, at least now we have him. I’ll be on my way there now, so see if you can get him to talk in the meantime.”

“... Boss? He’s… dead. The three of them are!”

“Sure, sure. You shouldn’t have gone so hard on them, honestly. If they really look that bad, then at least try to reassemble what you can while I head over there.”

“No, I’m serious! There’s no pulse or breathing or anything. They’re stone-cold, I swear!”

“Wait… Wait, you mean… How…?”

“I’m saying they’re dead, boss! Dead-dead, a hundred percent lifeless. I swear!”

“But you just said there were-“

“Yeah, they had canisters. And judging from their mouths, they were juiced up as hell, too… But…”

“Stone-cold…” she frowned, thinking of what she’d just heard. “Anybody see you?”

“We managed to buy off the patrols nearby for tonight, so no witnesses so far…”

“Okay… Good job, I guess.”                                                                  

She suddenly became quiet again, this time for slightly longer.

“Uhh… Boss?”

“I… Yeah… I’ll be there in a minute or two. I have… I’ll have to see that.”

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