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“Screw it!” I dropped to the cold cement floor and shuffled underneath. Jo’s grip slipped, and the shutters crashed onto my back, sending ripples in the nerves causing me to scream out in pain.
“Keep going!” Jo yelled, and the weight of the shutters eased up, allowing me to slip free. I reached under the shutters to hold them up to help Jo through.
“Come on, I got it!”
“No!” He replied, his voice strained. “I’m staying with Jaxon. He may love you, but I love him!”
“Don’t be stupid!” What the hell was he talking about?! We didn’t have time for some old-timey romance movie. Our lives were in danger. And he was talking about staying?
“Go now!”
I cried in pain when a sharp object pierced my hand, causing me to let go of the shutters and watch as it slammed against the ground with a loud clank. Blood seeped from the wound until it flowed and mingled with the rain. Crazy bastard!
Footsteps approached, giving me no time to waste thinking of Jo and his reasons for staying behind. Actually, it wasn’t hard to tell why. He loved Jaxon. He had just said it loud and clear. Now it all made sense why the pixie man seemed to have an attitude when we first met.
If he loved Jaxon enough to stay, then what did that say about my feelings? I had guessed that Jaxon held feelings for me ages ago, but I was always unsure what I had felt for him or anyone. I had never fallen in love before…I’ve never fallen in love before. There, I had stumbled upon my answer right then and there…I did not love Jaxon back.
I had entertained the possibility before, back in Vanir. So many people my age were dating and hooking up. But finding another man to do those naughty things with was very limited. At twenty-three, I was still carrying my V-card. I had only gotten into a heavy petting session once at fifteen, with a boy with smooth tanned skin and golden hair and eyes. We never spoke again afterward. In Vanir, breeding was everything, and they encouraged those with good genes to spread it. Needless to say,I avoided most social gatherings as they were an excuse to find someone to mate.
I was lonely, and Jaxon had been so nice and open. But loneliness was no excuse to use someone, and that’s all I would do to Jaxon. Use him. I would have to turn him down when I see him again.
I couldn’t think about this now, not when my life was still on the line. I did the only thing I could do, and that’s run through the rainy wet streets splashing nearby puddles along the way. I ran until there were no more dark passageways, and all was left were the bright neon lights of the inner-city hub. Even close to three in the morning, the city was alive with a pulsating rhythm I loved. Vanir was not like this; it was a peaceful forest that covered the old skyscrapers left behind by mankind’s glory days. We didn’t have much of a nightlife, and nothing as flashy as these neon-lit structures here.
I rushed from the shadows, almost knocking over a group of colorful hookers standing outside a place called the ‘Tic Tac Club.’ The letters flashed a bright red that could give anyone a seizure.
“Bitch, do you want a piece of me!?” One muscular woman pulled out a switchblade from her orange halter top while adjusting her massive fiery afro wig.
“No!” I sauntered away, holding my bloody hand.
The rowdy crowd of drunken revelers waited for the savory seared meat to come off the hot plate of the Greek food cart. And it was also a decent place to hide.
There were no traces of a black suit, so I willed myself into breathing again as I darted away from the food cart. My clothes felt tight on my drenched body. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, I’m a diver, a scavenger, not a thief, and now I was in more trouble than I could handle.
I made it to what was now my new home, a small narrow shop near the red-light district. This was the third level of the city, which I was told, resembled more of what the old New York slums looked like at its peak back in the year 2077. We had shops, stores, and clubs, running water and decent food. But the water needed to be boiled before using and the food quality was nowhere near as fresh as the food in Vanir. My dad and I lived in a small two-bedroom apartment above the small store we owned. I stopped running for a moment and breathed in the musty wet air before cutting through the narrow gap of buildings leading to my postage stamp backyard, and up the flight of stairs, which led straight to my bedroom above. I used the single key I had hidden under the pot to unlock the door.
‘I hope I didn’t lead those bastards here.’ After kicking off my rain-soaked boots, I grabbed an old shirt out of my tote to wrap around my wounded hand to staunch the bleeding. Moving mutely to the bathroom, I tried my best not to wake the old man… well, so much for that…
“Kal.” My old man called to me, his voice weak and gravelly.
Shit. I approached his bedroom, hating the odor of sickness inside. If I could snap my fingers and will it all away and see my dad standing before me healthy and smiling, his skin glowing with youth again… I would do anything... Hell, I’m already doing everything. “Hey, Dad,” I replied, standing in the doorway to keep the older man from seeing the wound. “What are you doing up so late?”
“Waiting for you.” He rested in bed, looking up at the ceiling. He was a frail-looking man, pale and eyes darkened from the sickness.
“You didn’t need to. I’m fine.” I said, barely able to see him in the darkened room.
“No, you aren’t.” He lifted himself up into a sitting position and looked at me; his eyes shined in the dim light of the moon. “Do you want to know every parent’s worst fear?”
“They say losing a child.” I folded my arms to shield my hand, and also the way dad looked at me always made me feel like an unruly child caught with my hands in the cookie jar.
“No. It’s watching your child struggle to save you, watching them endanger their own lives for your sake.” He sighed. “Your mother was so beautiful; you look like her…” He balled his fists and clenched his teeth at the painful memories which bombarded him. I didn’t want to hear this story again. The story of how he accepted a terrible job from a titan to fund their rebellion, which led to my mom’s death.
He sighed while staring off into the night. He turned to me, tears welling in his sunken eyes.
“I just want you to live.” I sighed, turning away, unable to look at him further. “Please get some rest. I’m sorry about this.” I closed the door to his room and headed to the bathroom to nurse my hand and stitch up the small ugly wound.
After cleaning the blood from the sink, I changed into some dry clothes, nothing fancy… if I had anything fancy. Just a simple blue shirt and baggy gray jogging pants. I headed downstairs and turned on the dim lights in the shop. It wasn’t much, just a little building on the ass end of town dedicated to selling the rare goods I found while junk diving in the old ruins in the sea.
Most of his shop was full of a few run-of-mill items which were scarce in this day and age: A washing machine, printer, cell phones, and other old tech equipment. The things lost over time to the flood and left rotting at the bottom of the seas. If I could fix it, someone would pay for it, and that’s why some people became divers hoping to cash in on people’s desire to stay connected. After all, the internet still worked, it was just a matterof connecting to it, and without a device, a doorway if you will, you had nothing.
