Chapter 2: Chapter 2

“All I ever wanted from life was a fair chance.”

Standing around a barrel of fire, John looks into it as others stand around listening to him with open ears, they’re rugged, worn clothes and an awful smell you won’t forget.

John coughs.

“I joined the military, served three tours just to get the opportunity at an education. Did everything I was supposed to do, what I was told to do, never asking a single question. And all I ended up was back here on the streets.”

A homeless man scoffs.

“And now you’re all washed up, just like us.”

“Yeah.”

John stares at the flames with the others trying to keep himself dry.

A man comes up, cleaner than the others, well groomed and in fresh clothes. He looks towards John as he brings him a clipboard.

“The association said they’d see you, fill out the form the best you can.”

“Once they confirm you’re one of us, they’ll let you in.”

Covering his cough with his arm, John takes the clipboard from him.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, just bring it to the gate when you’re done. They’ll help you out if they can. Don’t be afraid to ask”

 

___

 

The sun is out, walking inside of the Association’s Office Building, John is guided to a room. He waits inside an examination room as a nurse who checks his vitals before walking towards the doorway.

“A doctor will be with you shortly.” She says.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” She replies, closing the door behind her.

As she leaves, he coughs.

John takes out his phone as he begins to look through his messages, there’s a past conversation about his car, it’s past due, along with a string of messages from corporations asking him if he’d be willing to be a part of their treatment program. He ignores them as he continues scrolling along.

A knock comes from the door as John rushes to put away his phone.

Another woman comes inside, she’s wearing scrubs while carrying a clipboard, looking over at it without giving him a glance, she reads it off.

“John?”

“That’s me.” He replies.

“It says here, that you’re here to continue your treatment of Chemotherapy with the VA, I’ve been assigned to ask you about your condition to see how we could help you with it.”

“What? I thought you’d help me because I’m a veteran.” John says with a wheeze.

“For conditions like these, the military has a policy of only treating those who have had their injuries caused during their time serving with them. You have to understand just how much it would cost to help everyone who comes through those doors.”

“That’s bullshit, I spent five years helping you guys.”

“Now, now. Mr. Fray, I still haven’t told you if I could help you yet.”

“Ah, it says here that you suffer from Adenocarcinoma. That’s a tricky one.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, technically anything could cause it. If I had a history about your records in the field, it could clear up any possible causes but yours is just an empty sheet of paper.”

She shows him his record.

“Says here you served five tours, but not much else. I’ve never seen this before. Can you think of anything that would allow me to help you get the treatment you need?”

John’s eyes begin to shift as he thinks to himself.

“What about the sand in the environment?”

“Ehh, because of how many people were in the middle east, we no longer cover that option.”

She looks at him in pity as she begins to get up.

“I know it can be hard to talk about, but without anything short of a platinum plan-”

The Doctor stops talking for a brief moment.

“Burning pits.”

“Burning pits?” She asks enthused.

“We were told to create burning pits to deal with the trash in our base, there was a lot of smoke.”

“Trash, huh. Strange you never really think about it.”

She thinks to herself.

“I’ll run up the report and try to get more details on your situation. Is there anything else I could help you with right now?”

“Yeah-”

John breaks into a coughing fit as blood comes out.

“Could I get a refill for my prescription?”

“Yeah, we could do that. Just don’t tell anyone I did it, okay?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

 

___

 

Back on the streets, John walks around as some of the homeless begin to approach him. They start to interrogate him, slowly creeping in on him.

“How’d it go?”

“You get anything good from there?”

“Think you can share some pain killers with me?”

They grab onto him as they continue to ask him questions, searching his body without his consent. The helper that gave him the clipboard earlier begins to approach.

“Woah, woah, woah.”

“Everybody, settle down. Settle down!”

They ignore his shouts, continuing to search before they walk away, seeing the helper come closer. Some of them click their tongues.

On the ground, John looks up at the helper who’s giving him a hand.

“You alright?” The helper asks.

“Yeah.”

“They take anything from you?”

John searches himself as he looks back at the helper. Shaking his head.

“No.”

“Not sure if this is your first time on the streets, but you’re gonna need to take care of yourself more so these lowlives won’t push you around like that. Come with me.”

The helper beckons to John as he follows him.

“Why do they do that?”

“They can’t help it. They’re addicted, VA doesn’t help. Doesn’t think it’s their problem, anyways most of them end up in a cell, one way or another.”

John nods as he listens along.

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The helper looks at him.

“Name’s Jakobi.”

“John.”

“John, huh. Where’d you serve?”

“Army.”

“Army, huh. Infantry?”

“Yeah. Five years of my life, three tours.”

They make their way to a makeshift campsite as the Helper points towards a seating area as he makes his way towards something to grab a few things from somewhere.

“I was in the infantry too, 3-8.”

“I don’t remember mine.”

“I get it. You can take a seat wherever you want.”

John looks around and sits down on a cushion.

“Want anything to drink? Coffee, tea?”

“Coffee’s fine. This is a lot nicer than I was expecting it to be.”

The helper laughs.

“Right, when you think of homelessness, you don’t think of this, well, this place is more like a slum. Most of us can afford a place to stay and if we make more than a certain amount, well… They cut you off from certain benefits, it’s a shame what happened to Medicare.”

“Still find it funny, all those ads from warhawks yet when it comes to what happens after, it’s just an afterthought in their minds. Here.”

The helper walks over with two cups of coffee as he hands one to John.

“Thought about saving up for my own place for a while, but every time I tried, I always found myself with more and more costs and barely anything else to save.”

“What’d you do after your service?”

“I became a construction worker, after a while my back stopped working like it used to, couldn’t find a good enough job after that, and well, ended up here.” The helper laughs to himself.

“Seems like the story for almost everyone here.”

“It usually is. Finding yourself unable to adapt to society, unable to rejoin the military, there’s nothing left, even if you find a way you always end up here. One way or another just from bad luck. Nothing else. So. If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you join the service?”

“Grew up on the streets without a home. After I turned 18 they kicked me out of the orphanage. Told me I needed to take care of myself. It was this or the gangs. Mapped out my plan for life, serve 3 tours like they said, get my education paid for.”

“Mmm…”

“Found a job, but then it hit me. Got diagnosed with Stage 3 Cancer and got fired. Haven’t found a job since.”

“And now you’re here. Hoping to get treatment, I’m assuming.”

“Yeah.”

The helper seems to wince in pain.

He smiles at John.

“I’m sure it will all work out, listen if you ever need anything, just let me know. You’ve lived on the street before, right? Well, this whole spiel was to help you out, but I’ll just say this instead, stay out of Night City.”

“Night City?”

“It’s just what we call the groups of red light districts around here. The gangs there love to take in rookies like you to sell on the black market. After the entire fiasco with malfunctioning 3d printed organs they’ve been stopping by more frequently.”

“Really?”

“Heh. You’d think they wouldn’t want livers and hearts of drug addicts and alcoholics, but to them it’s all the same, just some fake records and that’s it.”

John nods along as he places his cup down.

“Ah, right. Almost forgot. I’ll show you where the soup kitchen is. Come on.”

The helper gets up as John does too.

They walk for a brief moment as they come across an alleyway of buildings.

“This is the one we usually go to, but you’ll find them anywhere as I’m sure you already know. Heh, helping the “homeless” guess no one really cares about us as long as we don’t die.”

The helper begins to walk away as John looks over.

“Well that’s everything. Good luck.” The helper waves saying goodbye.

John looks around the alleyway as he decides to sit down on the ground.

He sits and thinks.

 

___

 

Walking down another alleyway, John looks around as if familiarizing himself with the place, he checks his phone looking at a map as he does. Several homeless people line up the alleyway, looking over at him but not much else.

Some look at his clothes.

“New here? Welcome to hell.” A person calls out from fire.

Back to John, we look at the phone, on it we see blocks upon blocks of the same patterned design for areas with large freeways cutting in between them. An urban hell.

Taking a corner, John hears a scream come from in the distance.

John stops as around him groups of homeless people look at each other as others get up from the ground. A few look over as most of them begin to slowly vacate from the area.

Then a loud screech, accompanying it the sound of a door opening up.

The same homeless person looks over at John. But doesn’t seem to say anything.

John slowly walks over towards the direction of the noise.

“Please! Please! I have a kid!” The sound of a weeping woman can be heard.

In the distance, we see the scene. Walking towards a van we see armed men herding a group of young women towards it.

“Shut the fuck up. Get inside.” A voice calls out.

A man with large gorilla-like arms begins to drag a young woman into a van. 

As another hits one with the barrel of his rifle.

“Hey, don’t damage the goods.” Another voice says.

“Nah, she isn’t pretty enough, organ transfer is all she’s good for.” Another one adds on.

John hides behind a corner as he peeks over.

“Jesus Christ.”

Grabbing her by her scalp, the man with the large arms throws him inside the van. 

Trying to take advantage of the situation, another young woman tries to make a run for it, as she does one of them unloads a clip into her. A few of the women wince but that’s it.

“Move and you’re dead.” A man calmly says.

An erratic man walks around them with his barrel up in the air.

“If I hear any one of you even scream you’re dead! Now hurry up!” 

They slowly head inside one by one as the one with the large arms shuts the door. The van quickly drives away just as it came.

Walking out from the corner, John makes his way towards the area.

It’s a torn out encampment, he stares at the scene as just as quickly others make their way towards the site. They begin to pick up pieces and collect them, others begin to fight over pieces of tarp and the former belongings of the people who once lived there.

Suddenly, feeling something tap on his leg, John looks down. 

A little boy holding a teddy bear stares up at him.

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