Chapter 10: Chapter 9

I couldn't hear anything. My thoughts were sluggish, the inside of my head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton. What the hells happened? I wearily began to push myself off the floor. 

Everything hurt. 

Liz was in front of me on the ground too, propped up on an arm. She was blurry. My eyes struggled to focus on her.

 She was bleeding. A lot. Blood ran down her face in a river and I felt a knot in my stomach. She needed medical attention. Her eyes kept darting around us, a look of consternation growing on her.

What was she looking at?

I looked around. People were injured. 

Did they need help? Someone should do something. I could help. I just needed to get off this damned floor…

Liz was on her feet, grabbing me. She slowly pulled me to my feet.

She was saying something to me. I tried to focus.

 I still couldn't hear. A constant whine warbled in my ears.

I motioned to my ears and tried shaking my head. The movement caused a throbbing, pounding pain. I moved it to the side slowly, then my eyes widened in shock.

A hundred meters out... Two hundred? Three? I couldn't tell.

It didn't matter. What mattered was that crater. 

Hundreds of buildings were leveled. More were smashed near the edge, only a few remaining between us and it. There was a massive amount of airborne debris. A thick haze blanketed the area from tiny bits of concrete and other materials.

How was I alive?

Not even 50 meters away there were collapsed buildings and corpses littering the street. I locked eyes with the crumpled body of a child, mangled. It was battered and bruised, arm bent backward and half the head caved in. I looked away suppressing a wave of nausea.

I tried gathering my thoughts that were dancing away like leaves in the wind. My head continued pounding, the brush with death only made it worse.

I threw up.

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Did you know healers are prohibitively expensive? I preferred healing the natural way. That could lead to more problems sure, but healers would rob you blind. That’s with the official ones. Want someone who doesn't ask too many questions and accepts payments in mana-gems? Welcome to poverty.

I already didn't have much to my name after what happened to my house. Martha ended up covering me. Said I was good "business relations," meaning I was competent enough I was worth keeping alive with most my brain cells still in working order. Better yet, I was competent and I owed her. Great.

It had been several years since I let myself fall into that trap. Gods, I had to have been 14 or 15 when I finally cleared my debt. At the ripe age of 19, I was back at square one. Hells, I was at negative one. Might even be at negative five at this point.

I slammed my hand against a wall in frustration. I just lost years of effort in what? Less than a month?

I sighed and gritted my teeth. I wanted to cry. 

Actually, I did before arriving here. A lot. There was screaming and shouting too.

 I’d still be a mess if the doctor here didn't have me on some mood stabilizer or whatever numbing shit was put in me.

Whatever, felt fine now.

Liz was fairing a lot better but was shaken when I last saw her. Despite my disorientation, I managed to have her call Martha who organized a meeting with a doctor for me immediately.

I was then dragged to a back alley clinic deep in the slums. That’s where I sat now while Liz got patched up on the other side of some thick metal doors.

I stewed in my thoughts. They flashed to some of the carnage: the corpses, and ruined buildings. I saw a child screaming as their arm was crushed under a collapsed wall.

I popped another pill and downed it with the bottle of water at my side.

That'll take a few minutes.

I stretched in the shitty folding chair. Apparently, my eardrums had burst, and I had a concussion and a bunch of other smaller problems. Luckily most of that was fixed, and even the symptoms of the concussion were reduced. I had to take some time to let that heal but my recovery should be significantly sped up. 

Fit as a fiddle.

I decided to pull my phone out of my pocket and watch videos; the distraction helped.

Liz came out not too long later. She looked better, there was light scarring across her nose. That was a blessing considering how bad the injury she had was.

She looked at me and a small, forced smile touched her lips.

"How's your head? Feelin' any better?" She asked.

I nodded, "Right as rain. You?" Her smile dropped.

"My dad was hurt," she said. Her voice wavered, "He's unconscious, they aren't sure if he's gonna wake up.”

I stared in shock. Her father was her bedrock. Her mom was often busy with work and such so she spent a lot of time with her dad instead. Hells, he was the one who taught her to fight, showing her the skills he picked up as a professional fighter.

He was good to me too, I picked up how to scrap from him after I got attacked a few times while living on the streets.

 My heart thumped in my chest as I got up.

“Apparently the house collapsed and he got caught and…” her voice started catching in her throat as she tried to swallow her tears.

I grabbed her in a hug.

She started crying. A deep, pained wail ripped its way out of her. Her body shuddered with each sob as she fell to her knees with my arms wrapped around her. I stood there as she desperately clung to me, sobbing into my stomach.

_________________

Slowly, Liz's sobbing eventually petered out. She went to the bathroom to clean herself up before we figured out what to do next.

I was lost.

Everything was crumbling. I was barely keeping my head above the water at this point. 

I took a deep breath. Analyze. Prioritize. Act. An old problem-solving methodology that always helped me feel less overwhelmed. 

Analyze. What were my problems? I was currently homeless, alongside my best friend. Next, I was now in debt to a smuggler who would send me on increasingly suicidal missions in order to make me pay her back. Finally, I still needed to work on stuff for getting into Northridge.

Prioritize. The homelessness issue was the number one priority. The second was Northridge, I only really had one shot at that. The third was Martha. I've dealt with her debts before, I knew I could again. I didn’t like it, but I could do it.

My mind drifted for a moment back to the explosion.

From what I've seen online there hasn't been any confirmation on what caused the explosion. But there were guesses floating around. Likely an errant scribed, something to do with a kineticism.

My heart rate picked up at the thought. I buried most of the fear, the panic would do nothing for me. The fear I nestled inside me was that it wasn’t just some extraordinary coincidence. If so, I did not want to be found sleeping in the streets.

So don’t be homeless, that simple. That was ignoring the fact I was freshly neck-deep in debt, with most of my assets destroyed. I also needed to help Liz. 

Her dad getting hurt is your fault. 

The thought slammed into me. It probably wasn’t true. I dearly hoped it wasn’t true. 

I focused on problem solving, processing can come later.

If I dealt with my emotions now I might break.

I could break into someplace and sleep there but that still didn’t give Liz a place to sleep. If I got arrested it would only make everything worse. Though working for Martha was likely to do that anyways. 

Wait.

I could convert a few of my problems into a single one—Martha. She had the resources to fix, or at least assist with the rest of them.

Did I want to do that? Martha’s tasks were just as likely to get me killed or spend the rest of my days locked away on Liaz. On the other hand, she was a risk I knew. Besides, Martha didn’t have it out for me. Hells, she’s even saved my skin a few and taught me some of my skills. How to merge into a crowd. How to adopt personas. How to analyze, prioritize, then act. She wasn’t fair—by no means—but I could count on her not to actively screw me over. 

I remembered the pyrokinetic. 

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She wouldn’t maliciously screw me over.

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I noticed as I pulled up Martha’s contact I had several notifications from Ella’s number—at least she was okay. 

Martha picked up the phone after only a single ring.

“Yes, Trey?” She asked voice tinged with slight exasperation. I could see her pinching her nose already.

“Hey, so… it's about what I owe you,” I said, hesitating. 

 

Did I really want to do this?

 

“So far you’re up to approximately four hundred fifty thousand yul. Why?” She asked, her voice had regained its placid tone.

 

I took a deep breath. It wasn’t just me who needed this. Liz did. Her family did. Her mother was off the coast pursuing opportunity, how long until she could save enough to send money back here? 

 

Would it be enough?

 

“I need a few more favors,” I said, accepting this is what I want to do. Had to do.

 

Martha was silent. For a moment I thought the line went dead.

 

“Trey, you’re a good kid. I like you to be honest. Because of that, I’ll give you another bit of honesty—you’re in over your head. You know I’ve had people working for me for over a decade that haven't owed me as much as you currently do? You already won’t be able to pay this back with small-time jobs. You know that. Hells, the inscription ceremony alone necessitated you take on a much riskier work if you wish to finish your repayment before your thirties,” She explained.

 

“I know,” I responded, “But I am really in a bind. I need funds and I’m willing to do whatever jobs you give me. Liz… her dad got hurt. He needs a healer. I also need materials for a project I’m working on. And we need a place to stay for a bit. You know I’m good for the work Martha, just please help me out of this bind.”

I heard a sigh come through the line. 

“Fine. Text me her father’s name and which hospital he’s staying at. I’ll see what I can do.” She paused, “He is at a hospital right?” 

“Yeah,” I responded, “I’ll text you the details.” 

“I’ll send you an address, you two can head there and stay for a bit. There are various things being stored there but just make sure to carefully move them aside. We need to discuss your repayment plan, what type of jobs you’ll be best suited for, and a rental agreement as well so I shall drop in within the next few days.”

“Thank you, Martha, I really owe you one,” I said, feeling a weight off of my shoulders. I could handle this.

“Yes, yes you do,” she responded before hanging up.

I sent Martha Liz’s dad’s information. She sent back a thumbs up and sent the address.

_________________________________________________________________________

A bit later Liz finally came out of the bathroom. She shuffled out, her usual presence dismissed. Her shoulders slumped, the weight of the world weighing them down. She wasn’t crying anymore, but her face was still red and her lips fought back a quiver.

“Liz, I’m going to get a healer to check on your dad,” I said.

“C’mon Trey, you know we can’t afford that,” she said, voice deflated.

“No, you can’t afford it. I can. I worked something out with Martha, she’s going to have someone look at him for us.”

Liz stared at me for a second, like she didn’t comprehend what I said.

“Trey,” she started voice hardening by the second, “I know you can’t afford her rates. Not with everything that has happened lately. You aren’t planning on working for her again are you?” she asked. It sounded more like an accusation than a question. 

“C’mon, it isn’t like we have much of a choice,” I started, but Liz quickly cut me off.

“Don’t give them that shit Trey! That bitch is gonna get you killed or break you a pile of corpses in your fucking wake!” she yelled. Liz was shaking at this point, her fists balled, veins popping all the way up her arm.

I shrunk back, “Liz we need this opportunity-”

“No the fuck we don’t! We don’t need the fucking slumlord’s help! Stop acting so fucking helpless Trey! You aren’t, I know you aren’t and you fucking know you aren’t!” 

I finally snapped, “I’m just trying to fucking help, is that too much! I’m sorry I don’t want your father fucking dead so I pulled what strings I could!” I screamed back.  I forced my voice back to its previous calm, “Martha isn’t good people—but she’s fucking reliable. She’s the only reason I didn’t have to sleep on the streets as a teenager.”

Liz took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching her hands. She stood there silently for what felt like minutes, gathering herself. Finally, she spoke, “Trey, you know we could’ve taken you back in.”

I laughed something bitter, “No you couldn’t have, you and your father would’ve never convinced your mom.”

“She was scared Trey, you didn’t exactly have your head on straight-”

“Liz, I was twelve,” I said, trying to steady my emotions.

“Trey… you almost beat a kid to death. You were going to the detention center.” Liz’s voice was quiet at this point. 

“Speaking of which, guess who kept me out? The monster you call Martha. So yeah I don’t mind working for her cuz she was there when I needed her type of help most. And now I just want to help you,” I spat.

“Trey, I don’t want to see you how you were then, the you who worked for her.” Her voice was low, but with a hard, bitter edge to it.

I took a deep breath, realizing I was unbalanced, upset—stressed.

“Liz, It’s been a long day. I motion for a truce,” I sighed. Liz stared at me blankly.

She snorted, “Fine. We aren’t done talking about this.”

________________________________________________________________________

Liz and I took some space from each other for the rest of the day. I felt bad, I really didn’t mean to upset her but I felt like she just didn’t get it. 

I sighed. Liz would come around, she always did.

I remembered Ella’s missed calls and messages so I called her back. 

“Trey? Gods, I thought you were dead. Are you okay? How about your friend? I saw the massive… explosion? That’s what they’re saying it is at least. It definitely didn’t look like one though.”

An explosion. Really? Anyone with eyes would know that wasn’t a regular explosion. Mundane explosives had more than just the pressure wave. That’s what that was I was confident, a massive pressure wave. 

Something weird was going on.

I wasn’t going to dig into that. Getting involved in the government would do nothing good for me.

“Well, that explosion also destroyed our supplies. We’re back at zero. I think I’ll be able to get everything together again but it’ll take a few weeks. You still want to work on it?”

“Of course, tell me when you can get the materials and I’ll pop by. Until then, I’ll focus on work during our vacation.”

I soured a bit at that, I remembered the card she gave me that day when we first met. I considered saying something but my brain flashed to my argument with Liz. 

I didn’t have the right to give someone grief over how they choose to make money. 

“Alright, great. Talk to you soon. Bye,” I said and hung up.

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