Tales of the Wheel

“There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world.”  

- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

The Dusters in Twilight Land.

Summer, Earth Year 2901- The Abandoned Deep’, The Stretch District, Mars.

“Bambi, Bambi!” Hey, that’s my name. Don’t wear it out. The purple haired woman sang in her head as awareness slowly returned, along with that sharp iron taste of blood. Pushing herself to her knees as she spat a large glop of it out, the voice in her head kicked in again.  “Bambi, can you hear us?” Yeah, Big C, I hear you. That’s my name, are you in my head like Dun Dee? His voice was faint and crackled a lot. Then through the haze of HOP and hurt she remembered Gibson’s earpiece gift.

“Charles is that you?” she finally responded. A second later a relieved Big C replied. There was a lot of static, but his words were clear enough. “Kid! Thank the Gods, Titans and Devils. I was afraid you got pan-caked. Are you all right? Can you move?” Grasping for the side wall, Bambi used it to brace herself as she climbed back to her feet. The second her cyborg foot touched the ground the jolt of pain almost dropped her again. “I definitely broke something. Calvin’s gonna be fuckin’ pissed,” She thought. Her head felt like a drum set in use as well, but it wasn’t clear how much of that was from the previous smack it took at the Mounds of Rust coming back, the fall or the HOP. Gritting her teeth has she leaned against the wall the young black coat simply rasped, “Yeah I can move.”

“Sure you’re good?” despite the bad connection, Charles had clearly heard the pain in her voice. “I got to be, don’t I? But if I don’t make it, remind the youngsters: Don’t do HOP kids.” She chuckled a little before coughing up a little more blood. There was silence for a minute, and Bambi was getting worried the comms might have crapped out, but then Big C came back, “Okay, obviously we’ve got no visual all the way up here, but Gibs scans show a junction directly ahead of you. Can you see it?” Bambi nodded before remembering she had to answer verbally. “Yeah, I can see it”. The comms crackled again, “Good, head in that direction and eventually you’ll encounter a place where you can stay straight or take a left turn. Take the left and that tunnel should start to slope up as you’re moving along. According to the map Gibson says this connects to the junction the lab sits above. We’ll make our own way and meet up.”

There was another minute of silence before Charles continued. “Bambi, Gibson also wanted to let us know that once you move a bit beyond the range of this hole poked in the wall up here, we might lose touch. The old stone & mortar walls are pretty thick that deep.” Bambi pulled Oliver out of his holster and flicked on the flashlight attachment. “Only one way to find out I guess boys.” The pistol itself seemed fine, but the light sputtered and the lens was cracked. “Great, just fuckin’ great.” She muttered to herself as she began to push herself along the wall, unsure if the shadows dancing around her as she moved were there or only in her HOP't up head.

*****

Wonderful, simply wonderful! The sudden sensation of fresh smells filled its ‘nostrils’, such as they were. Human sweat, human blood and human fear. How long had it been since scents like that last graced his home? How long had it been since it had consumed anything except the dull little creatures that served it? Higher up was too dangerous now. If he stalked them up there, he would become the hunted, not the hunter. Too many of them lived above now with too many weapons.

It had used weapons once. It had been a soldier once. Hynes was hardly the only one to use the Stretch sewers for experimentation in the centuries since they were abandoned. Once upon such a time, another version of Fridge X had been interested in harvesting the soldier’s compacity to think while removing its compacity to feel. All the while, stirring that into an organic soup that could take many forms. The failure had not been in the process itself, but in being able to control the results. Discarded down here after dealing much harm, some records of the failure must have been kept, as Hynes had actually been warned when being sent to not delve too deep.

So, a patchy looking green blob coated in moss, dust, ancient feces and crawling with mice and rats of all sizes formed into a roughly humanoid shape and began to slither after the scents. Human sweat, human blood and human fear. Wonderful, simply wonderful! 

*****

The comms stopped functioning about twenty meters down the junction corridor. Oliver’s light was also all but useless, flickering on and off and having the effect of generally making everything even creepier than it already was. Along with the oppressive shadows casting shapes in the corner of her eye that made Bambi want to jump and run, the skittering and chittering of rodents could be heard all around. “HOP, HOP, HOP gal. It’s just the fuckin’ HOP messing with you.” She whistled quietly to herself.

“Don’t like sleeping with the rats little gal?” Beater laughed cruelly as he looked down into the pit, “Maybe I pull you out tomorrow morning. Next time Ma Tess asks you to do something, you do it!”

A jolt of pain from her busted foot sent her sprawling face first. A large rat, at least the size of a football, emerged from the shadows hissing and drooling just about a meter from her face. “Fuck you! Fuckyou, fuckyou!” She scrambled back and pulled Edgar. There were satisfying flashes of light as the ever-deadly pistol launched several wild energy bolts, one of them splatting the bold thing that had got in her face. Several more shapes seemed to retreat further into the shadows from the barrage.

“That’s right, fuck you too!” The black coat whispered to the rat and the memory as she pushed herself back to her feet. For the memory It was a revisionist take of course. She had never actually talked back at the time but simply curled up into a ball and prayed that Johnny Beater would pull her out in the morning. He did and it was a long time before she or Candy had talked back to Ma Tess again. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw movement again as she pushed herself along. Glancing back the shadows still lingered and a light chittering could still be heard. Was that a stain where the large rat was, or just a scorch mark from Edgar? Did something else just snatch its corpse? Was the whole thing even real, or had she been shooting at ghosts “HOP, HOP, HOP gal. It’s just the fuckin’ HOP messing with you.” She sang quietly again.

It was slow-going and although she would never admit it, seeing even Gibson coming down the hall now would have been a truly welcome sight. “Were where the boys anyway?” She fumed privately. Cold molasses trickling uphill could likely move quicker than she could right now, so did they stop for diner or something? “Pull yourself together gal!” She gave herself a mental slap, “You’ve got a rep to maintain.” Shit, on top of everything else, she was really getting thirsty now too. So, so dam thirsty.

She rounded another bend and spotted the branching corridor Charles had mentioned. The moment of joy at seeing it was quashed by a pickup of the chittering and skittering behind her again. Attempting to push forward a little faster, as she turned the corner to the left passage leading back upwards, her busted cyborg heel struck the edge of a jagged stone as she dragged it along. The pain was so intense she could no longer stand on it and collapsed face first again.

“…why’d you have to do the foot Johnny?” Ma Tess pouted as she stared down at the child after the deed was done, “She was going to be such a good little dancer, weren’t you dear. But look at you now, my broken little ballerina…” Dancing had been the one thing other than her sisters that had been good about that life. “I may be broken bitch,” Bambi snarled up at the ghost, “But… I… ain’t… done YET!”

Stubbornly she clawed her way back to her feet and leaning on the wall even more heavily began to push herself along at an increased pace. A few minutes later the path began to slope up as expected, so her momentum slowed a bit again. Bambi was also desperately dry at this point. So thirsty that if any of the ancient sewer wastewater that used to flow here had still existed, she would have been sorely tempted. Stopping quickly to catch her breath, that soft chittering that had rescinded into the background suddenly sounded closer and the shadows grew around her again. Something with a long tail brushed past her non-damaged leg and she kicked out in disgust and fear.

“Maybe I pull you out tomorrow morning.” His foul breath even now. “Maybe I pull you out tomorrow morning.”

The rodent went sailing back down the corridor in the opposite direction…until a piece of the encroaching shadow reached out and snatched it mid-air. Further solidifying into some amorphous tentacle with a sickly green glow, the kicked rat seemed to be absorbed by it. The green glow spread a little and Bambi saw dozens and dozens of little eyes staring back at her in the dark. Still more of the shadow seemed to join the tentacle as the glow grew and Bambi was able to make out a vaguely human shape. Some of those skittering and chittering eyes seemed to become part of it as well. “HOP, HOP, HOP gal. So, it’s not just the fuckin’ HOP messing with you.” It was a bad time for the terror giggles to return, but they did anyway.     

*****

Darby’s map had been accurate enough. It only took another 20 minutes from the location of Bambi’s scrap with the ill-fated Patrol #9 for Charles and Gibson to reach the large junction they were looking for. They stepped into a chamber with ceilings similar in height to the room at the bottom of the entrance they had used. Three other entry points to the chamber existed besides the corridor they just entered from, including the downward sloping one Bambi was hopefully traversing. There was also a large pool carved into the middle of the chamber.

It was deep, Gibson estimated maybe 40 meters to the bottom. Fifteen of those were filled with a thick toxic looking substance with a vile smell that wafted up and would water the eyes of anyone who stood too close to the pit. Charles took a quick look and noted with disgust that there seemed to be hundreds of rodents down there playing and swimming through that liquid muck like it was their Sunday bath. Despite the stench of whatever mixture sat in the pit, the toxins the Children of Wyrd had released earlier seemed to have dissipated, but Charles kept the gas mask handy just in case.     

Above the pit, a large portion of the ceiling was about 20 meters lower than the rest. Both Charles and Gibson could see a metal hatch positioned near the middle of this directly above the pit. Gibson scanned the hatch with his glasses. “There Big C, see that?” He pointed to a smaller door or hatch located just beside the large one they both missed initially with their naked eyes. “I’m fairly certain that’s storage and release for a mechanical ladder of some sort, but someone’s got to get up there to lower it. Hmm… someone would have to stay in the chamber above on a regular basis, or maybe Hynes had a way to trigger the ladder remotely…”

“Put some more thought into it as we move Gibs.” Charles interjected, “Let’s go catch up with Bambi first. I know she was more busted up than she was letting on and…” he poked his head over side of the pit to glance at some of the larger forms splashing around with a shutter, “if she’s hurt really bad, she might end up on something’s menu.” He absently rubbed his damaged arm as he thought about Bambi’s own potential injuries. Set in a makeshift sling now, the bleeding was mostly stanched, but his jury-rigged wraps should have been changed already. He was putting up a brave front but felt weak as a kitten, from his standpoint anyway. If Bambi was really messed up and it got to the point that he couldn’t keep up he didn’t think much of the odds that Gibson could get them out of this mess on his own.

“Sounds good,” Gibson said. He couldn’t admit he’d miss the violet enforcer so he just added, “After all, with a slight boost from you she can solve our access issue with one good spring anyway.” This was true, but Charles also knew the callous statement was just covering for Gibson’s concern. He doubted either of them could imagine a life without their routine verbal spats. “Great, any more scans you should take before we move out?” Gibson shook his head. Charles tried the comms one more time, waited a minute or so but still received no response. Seeing the look of concern flash on the elder duster’s face, Gibson quickly added, “It’s still the thickness of the older sections. She’s still alive Charles. Indeed, she’s too nasty and stubborn to die.” Charles realized the younger man was trying to convince himself as much he was trying to convince him. It was appreciated.

“Umm… should we check that arm first before we head out?” Gibson continued. “The boy really can be more astute than I give him credit for.” Big C thought with a faint smile. “You’re probably right. We should, but unless you’ve got an auto doc, a pack of hypos or hell, even some fresh wraps in those pockets of yours, I think we better just head out.” Gibson nodded with understanding and moved to follow. They walked to the entrance of the appropriate path, but just as they started down the route, Big C thought he detected movement from his left. A low growl rumbled like thunder in the large chamber as a canine figure emerged from one of the two other entry points. Drool and lubricant fluid dripped from its massive jaws. “Shit, Another one?”  Charles thought, pulling his scatter blaster out. “Dam! Gibs, get behind me!”

*****

Bartrand had his targets locked. The analysis of Shelia’s encounter with them was complete:

Standard limb sever problematic. Switching to Energy lash Tail for range and side blades for sustained bloodletting. Engagement mode… overridden. Self-calculated analysis inserted. Vengeance for Shelia setting now active…   

******

Charles braced himself for the inventible charge by pumping his single barrel scatter blaster three times. With some actual distance to cover this time, he hoped to land a devastating blow before the cyborg animal could reach them. Instead, this animal raised its tail and a bolt of pure electricity shot out of the metal tip and struck Charles in the chest. The surge stunned Charles, forcing him to stumble back. As painful as the sudden shock was overall, it also sent rivets on nearly unimaginable agony flowing though his wounded arm. However, in a sense his H.E.R.O. genes frustrated Bartrand’s attack almost as much as Shelia’s before him. A regular person would have been electrocuted.

Grabbing Charles as he stumbled backwards, Gibson managed to use the super dense black coat’s own downward momentum to yank Big C even lower fast enough avoid a second electrical burst the dog fired off as it lunged at them, four spinning buzz saws, two on each side, popping out from its mostly metal torso. Bartrand cleared the pool in one jump and came face to fang with the bent over and terrified Gibson, who froze as a combination of dog breath and a closed machine shop assaulted his nostrils. Suddenly a flash nearly blinded him as Charles managed to squeeze off the scatter blaster. The blast sent the animal sprawling, but both the lads could see that energy dampeners built into its torso neutered the full effect of the strike.

Still on his knees and his sling in taters, Charles reached out and grasped the twitching tail with his good arm. The big man hollered in agony as he received another jolt but held firm and ripped the appendage off in with one solid tug as he stood back up. Bartrand howled in pain, though there was no blood, as the tail appeared to be entirely mechanical. The dog dashed to the right of Charles, getting close enough for the buzz saws to cut into his upper thigh as he brushed past. “Gods dam it, what do they make these things teeth and blades out of,” Big C bit back another cry of agony as one of the saws slashed deep. If he didn’t act quickly, that thing could gut Gibson with one pass.

Bartrand shifted to the left, looking like he was thinking of doing just that. Charles tackled him as he passed, ignoring the throbbing of his injured arm as best he could. The buzz saws left cuts on his chest and arms, reopening several of the bite marks on his injured one as well. Caught in Charles’ grip, Bartrand’s front paws started furiously scratching at his bad arm. With as much effort as he had left and bleeding from several fresh wounds, Big C slammed the cyborg into the ground with a loud thud. He then used his remaining energy to boot the stunned dog directly into the pool before it could recover. “Sorry fido, but enough is enough!” He wheezed.

After that Charles guessed he might have blanked out for a minute. Suddenly he was on is back looking up at Gibson, who was cutting the cloth parts away from the filter apparatus of the gas mask and using them to try and patch the worst of C’s open gashes. “Well, Darby was right about one thing indeed.” Gibs noted glibly, “The kind of tech those mutts had built in is way beyond a bunch of sewer scavengers. Those energy dampers would cost thousands of credits alone I’d wager.”  As he helped Charles to a sitting position, both tried to ignore the growls and splashing sounds coming from the pool. A damaged Bartrand treaded water as cautious but hungry smaller forms swam all round. Anything that had gotten close so far was ended by those vicious jaws, but it was only a matter of time.

“Well, that’s a bad way for anyone or anything to go.” Charles said mostly to himself as he tried to stand. Propping himself up against the wall and taking a few huge breaths, Gibson eyed him with concern, “Are you certain you can continue? We don’t know how much blood you’ve lost between your arm and…” Charles held up a hand to cut him off “I’m all right.” and with a quick smile repeated what Bambi had told them earlier. “I got to be, don’t I?” Gibson realized the truth of this, and he certainly didn’t want to head down into the deep on his own. Or stay here by himself either, for that matter. “Help me do something with what’s left of this sling, then we’d better move.” Big C finished. As brutal as this attack had been on them, more than ever he feared what a hurt Bambi might be enduring while on her own. If she was still alive…

*****

The humanoid shape chittered and skittered as much as it slithered. The little eyes scurried all round it and through it as it pushed itself forward. It was difficult to say whether the HOP helped her cope with the horror before her or made it even worse. That slow motion view from before returned and Bambi thought she might have frozen for a moment, but the boys, not her boys above but the ones attached to her hips, acted. Both arms shot up and Edgar and Oliver screamed at the strange form before them and at their mistress. “Stay Focused gal!”  they shouted.

The energy bolts punched through the human shaped goo, sending a few of those skitterers and chitterers to the abyss as well. The form lost cohesion for a moment, collapsing back into a withering mess of tentacles. The sound it made chilled the hardened Duster to the bone. If the wind itself could burn its scream might sound a bit like what Bambi heard. Holstering Oliver while still pointing Edgar at the mass, she tried to push herself further up the path and away from this demon of the deep, but broken ballerinas could only move so fast. Several tentacles lashed out, Edgar rejected one of them with his usual lethal retort, but another one shot past and smacked the pistol out of Bambi’s hand. Two more of the groping appendages wrapped around her torso with incredible speed. The substance that coated outside of this strange devil’s skin felt like weak acid. The humanoid shape slowly reformed as Bambi was dragged towards it. It’s touch burnt.

“…Burnt! Why you little runt, I gets Hammer here to make you a nice new crutch and you don’t even say thank you. I feel burnt girl.” Johnny Beater stared down with his foul breath, rotten teeth, dirty beard and stupid painted face and smiled. Bambi huddled in the corner of the forge chamber hugging Mandy, who cried softly. Candy also stood nearby and the twins shared a look of fear. He snatched the crutch back and tossed on the scrap pile. “Maybe I ought to burn you a little too for such disrespect.”

Hammer actually seemed a little nervous. “Johnny, careful. Boss thinks the little one might be a true reader. He doesn’t want her messed up in…” Beater just sneered, “I’m not gonna touch the squirt.” He laughed as he threw another bag of pellets on the fire, stoking the forge’s small crucible furnace. “It’s my favorite troublemaker that needs another lesson. Maybe you like fire now girl? Is that why you keep burning me? You liked the burning that healed you after you lost your little footsie there Bambi girl? You want this. Right little trashy girl? That’s why you keep disrespecting me! But I’m nicer than you! I’ll give you what you want even though you disrespect me.”

“No, you stinkin’ pig. Enough!” Beater turned to Candy in surprise. The second twin had always let her sister do most of the talking. She had initially been as much a burden on Beater’s nerves as her sister, but Ma Tess had suggested putting Candy into service at the boys’ ‘Recreation Center’ earlier than normal as a way to divide and tame both. The divide never happened, but the taming of Candy at least seemed to have been a done deal. “Leave her alone you fat ass fuck! I can take whatever you got.” Hammer stared in amazement at the young twin as Bambi’s eyes pleaded with her to say no more and Beater could only snort and stutter stupidly for a few seconds before finally responding.

“You little couch warmer! You think you know pain little girl? You ain’t seen nuthin…” Young Candy cut him off as she strolled forward and pulled the door to the furnace open. “Heard the boss say once a man who wags his tongue a lot does so cause he’s got no working balls. I know he meant it dirty, but still, you fuckin’ talk a lot Johnny!” Candy then thrust her left arm into the crucible. Of course, she screamed in agony almost instantly and her legs threatened to buckle, but she stood. Her whole body shook but she stood. Howling in pain but not moving as both Skull elders just stared, Hammer in horror and Beater also, but with a twisted mix of growing pride from him as well. Mandy buried her face and Bambi mixed her horror with love. As she cried and the flames consumed all flesh it touched, Candy returned her sister’s love with her right eye, while her left one stared down Johnny with a hatred that could never truly end…    

Its touch burns! As the strange entity drew her close, seemly looking to drag her into itself while all those hungry little eyes waited eagerly for the leftovers, the memory of her sister’s strength in the face of desperation, of the terrible cost of her sacrifice still being paid today, steeled her nerves. Sometimes you can’t avoid the furnace, you can only try and control how you burn. As she was drawn within arm’s length of the creature, a faint sound not unlike a person humming a tune could be heard emitting from it. The tentacles had her right arm pinned to her body, but she reached for Oliver with her left. Drawing the pistol as quickly as she could she then thrust her free hand, gun in tow, directly into the humanoid blob as deep as she could. …into the crucible.

That acid ‘itch’ was far more intense on the inside than on the out. Bambi gritted her teeth, “It’s nuthin compared to what she endured. Nuthin!” Pain was downplayed and a trigger was squeezed multiple times. Ever faithful Oliver did not disappoint, even in the extreme environment he currently swam in. That horrendous burning wind sound echoed throughout the entire tunnel as the form and many of the little bastards inside of it fried from the inside out. The tentacles holding her collapsed back into the writhing mess and she withdrew her hand. She tried to fire another blast off at one of the larger rodents still lingering in the background, but this time the acid scared pistol sputtered and failed, succumbing to its damage. Her hand itself was raw and as red as a bad sunburn.

“Edgar!” She thought as she re-holstered the other pistol quickly and turned to scan the ground behind her. Before her eyes even left the screeching jelly like mess in front of her, two large appendages shot up and slapped her like a bouncer bot’s backhand. She landed flat on her back on hard stone floor, her face bloodied further and her body stunned motionless as everything began to spin. As the mass began to loom again a sudden spray of light sailed over her head and slammed into the thing. “Huh. Pretty lights.” She thought as her vision began to swim.

******

“What in the three hells was that?” Gibson was getting freaked out and made no attempt to hide it. An ungodly moan that sounded like the air itself taking its last breath echoed all along the old tunnel. Charles moved just ahead of him, staying close to wall on the tunnel’s right side. He found he increasingly needed to support himself on it to keep from stumbling. “Losing my balance? Check. Blurry vison? Check. One of my kids hurt, lost and alone? Check. Creepy howls from dark places? Check. Worst day in over a decade? Check.”  Taking a quick pause he knew was needed, he replied, his voice raspy and dry, “It didn’t sound like one of those dogs. Something hurt? Maybe some kind of fight? It could be with Bambi. Let’s move!”

 He forced himself to pick up the pace and did his best to ignore the trickles of blood that leaked from him and dripped from his duster onto the floor. Gibson stuck directly behind him, a trembling hand gripping Big C’s left shoulder. The only real light they had was dull glow from Gibson’s pad, which he clutched in his free mitt. Not much, but much better than nothing and another good idea from the crew’s head tech. Continuing downward, another series of those tortuous howls sounded.  Was that muffled blaster fire he heard as well? “Faster, faster!” Charles pushed himself, gasping for additional air to maintain the increased pace while trying to ignore the clear warning signs that he was on the verge of collapse. “I’m all right. I got to be, don’t I?” it was in his head, but it was Bambi’s voice that said it.

Suddenly, as they neared a bend, they could both see a faint green glow on the other side of it. They also heard the loud thud of what might have been something hitting the stone floor. Rounding it as quickly as he could, C heard Gibson curse as he stumbled over something and fell. His tablet’s meager screen lamp was no longer needed, however. That sickly glow was close enough now that Charles could make out a prone form that he knew was Bambi and…something [Titan’s Balls! What is that thing?]… something looming over her. Stepping within a few meters, he pumped his Scatter Blaster, aimed high and unleased hell.

A spray of light slammed into it and the noises the ever-twisting form made confirmed to Charles this thing had been the source of those terrible howls. Pump! He took another step and blasted again. “Dam! Is this thing made of rats?” he noticed blood and fur flying along with many retreating eyeballs now abandoning the blob. A large flat appendage shot out of the screeching mess and smacked him hard. It stung for certain, but even injured as he was, what might floor the strongest man was but an annoying slap to a descendant of the H.E.R.O.s of old. Pump! Another step and he laid down a third spray of energy at even closer range. The nightmare beast before him collapsed almost into a puddle and slithered back about 10 meters. But he noted once it stopped moving it quickly began reforming into a large man shape.

Looking back, he saw Gibson was back on his feet and was both helping Bambi to hers while also dragging her away from the fight. “Gibs!” He shouted hoarsely, “Give me that last frag!.” The other Duster processed the request for but a second and then fished in a pocket quickly. Fortunately, they were close enough that even Gibson’s now notorious bad aim and lack of coordination couldn’t screw the throw up. Popping the pin the second he made the catch, Charles pumped one covering shot at the beast and then tossed the grenade. “Back! Run!” Even as he said it, he summoned the last fumes of reserve energy from gods knows where. As he barreled back up the path, he grabbed Bambi, hoisted her over his shoulder as he passed and let Gibson sprint ahead. The frag landed with a ‘splat’ directly in the center of the hellspawn blob. A loud explosion echoed and the whole tunnel shook as part of the sewers within the radius of the blast collapsed. As loud as the boom had been, that awful, unhuman sound of tearing sky echoed and echoed behind the rubble. Charles and Gibson kept moving full tilt until they could no longer hear it before pausing to rest.

They finaly stopped for a moment about 60 meters from the entrance leading back to the dumping junction. “Ooh, my fuckin’ head,” followed by another series of expletives came from the bundle over his shoulder. To Charles at this moment that cursing sounded as beautiful as any ancient poem. She’s alive! As he carefully set Bambi on her feet while still holding her shoulders, her pale bloodied face seemed lost for a second, but then recognition dawned. “Big C?” her tone a mix of surprise and frantic hope. “Hey kid. You’re good. You made it. Just lean on me for a spell.”

“No, I can make it. I don’t need help!” The purple haired youth might have been 14 years old at most. Half-starved with one mutilated leg and nearly feral, she didn’t blink as she stared defiantly up and Charles Williams. Big C had spent the last six months on the front lines of their spat with the Creek Boys. The Dawson City crew had been steadily infiltrating the Lane’s entertainment quarter, Ludus Square, for some time. Vikulov had them respond cautiously at first. Overt gang warfare in such a large open commerce zone would have been disruptive to certain bottom lines that mattered to the Consortia. If the last two centuries of history had taught the citizens of the solar system anything it was that attracting the focused attention of their corporate overlords was almost always lethal.

A big blow out did come eventually of course. After months of back-alley assassinations, counter extortions and re-negotiations with local businesses gave the Dusters a clear upper hand, Vikulov had Charles bring the hammer down. The final confrontation was brutal and quick. The surviving Creek Boys leadership limped back to their district, but the vultures they had kept under their boot for a couple decades saw their own opportunity and they seized it. Few people outside of crime buffs and local historians even remember the name Creek Boys now.

The last loose end to the whole affair was the need to dole out a decisive bit of payback to a crew that had provided the Boys with extra muscle for credits. Charles had heard of the Skull Fuckers but hadn’t delt with any prior to this or even set foot in the Stretch. Why would he? Everything he had heard told him it was the worst pit to live on Mars, barely a district at all. Still, now that he was here, he had to admit it was even worse than he could have imagined. Having served a stint on Deimos he had always assumed that it would be impossible to experience much fouler conditions than that prison’s labor camps. The Stretch and these disgusting Skull Fucker’s in particular proved that assumption was completely wrong.

The Dusters’ assault had been overwhelming. The other gang’s stragglers were fleeing all the way to the other side of the Lunger Gate at this point. The newer members of the Dusters had also acquitted themselves well. He’d worked with Bob throughout war with the Creek Boys. The young brown coat was smart, and he had handled himself with the same proficiency in the fight here. A future black coat for certain, Charles thought. Kraken’s recent recruit had been excellent as well. The young lady nicknamed Hawk was an incredibly skilled scout and a deadly shot. Big C suspected she might have been ex-military. As much as he hated agreeing with the crew’s newest black coat, Kraken was right. They needed more people like Hawk, and they needed to learn from them.

As complete as their victory had been, what they found in the aftermath was nightmare fuel. Only a psychopath or a corporate PR exec would have been able to justify what they saw with a straight face. Mutilation, child abuse, rape and cannibalism. It was like one of those disgusting, perverted dramas Earth still produced. The children…those sick scum had tried to slaughter the captive children while they fled. They had saved three young girls. The bodies of a dozen more littered the ground of a small building that appeared to have been a forge.

Canuck, who had been shot in the shoulder during the attack but still seemed to be fine after applying a quick hypo and a clean cloth, carried the youngest; maybe 4 years old at most, in his uninjured arm and whispered kindly to her. Hearing the purple haired teen addressing Charles, he approached nonthreateningly and asked the little bundle in his arms, “Is that your sister too Mandy?” The little girl nodded and then whispered something into his ear. “What, you came up with those awesome colors for their hair, Eh? Looks cool!” It had been clear to Charles that the purple-haired kid was the twin of the green-haired girl leaning against him. He was familiar with the concept of identical twins but had never met a pair before.

“Yeah,” The young teen named Candy stated, “Mandy helped us pick our colors, right little sis? And they are ours. We picked em! Not Ma Tess.” Charles nodded, not sure what that meant but understanding it was important. They had stumbled across Candy a few minutes ago standing over some dead scab’s body, bloody knife in hand. Whoever he was, Charles was sure he had deserved worse. He’d thought he had heard the young girl whispering, “Are you proud now? Are you proud now?” over and over again. She had been even thinner than her sister and all that was left of her left arm was a burnt stump just below her shoulder blade. The brutal injury looked pretty recent, and it didn’t look like any effort was put into proper healing. Charles was amazed the pale young thing was still alive, much less standing. Once he had assured the young girl that she could keep her knife and they would all help find her sisters she had calmly followed them. “And Bambi here is just as tough as I am. Don’t let that Tess bitch tell you otherwise!” This was in response to the purple haired girl’s “No, I can make it. I don’t need help!”

“Sure okay, I understand.” Charles kept it calm. Perhaps the best thing what will never be said about the Dusters if someone looking back writes their tale is that not a single one of them standing in the carnage they helped cause thought they should just cut out and leave the kids. Charles noted a few nearby sheets of metal partially shaped into what he suspected was eventually supposed to be a door. Using his great strength, he folded and reshaped the mostly steel sheets into a makeshift crutch. “Just a little gift for the toughest gal in the Stretch.” Bambi stared with great suspicion but slowly reached out and took the offering.

It was about four clicks to where they stashed the swoops. As the others went ahead, Charles moved slowly so the crippled girl could keep pace. Her twin sister walked beside him asking questions like if the park they lived in had real trees like in the pictures. With her sisters safe, the last of her energy seemed to be fading. She went from questions to leaning on Big C’s shoulder to being quietly lifted off the ground and cradled in his right arm as exhaustion overtook her. Charles did note even in sleep she maintained a death grip on the knife. Bambi stubbornly pushed herself along with the homemade crutch for another 15 minutes or so, almost falling multiple times. Seeing she needed to stop, Charles said, “All this sand out here, its messing with my balance too.”

“Yeah, it sucks, the Stretch sucks…” They started out again, Bambi leaning on his left shoulder for some support while her sister continued to doze, her head resting on the other one. Another near stumble and when he instinctively hugged her closer to help steady her, she accepted the extra help. A couple of minutes later her eyes began to droop, and she leaned her head more heavily on his shoulder. With a quiet sob she whispered “We are going to a park? Not here? We can go someplace else? We can be someplace else…” As the question trailed off the exhausted youngster might not have been consciously aware that Charles was now carrying her just like her sister. As sleep closed in, Charles found himself hugging both of them close. What a hole to endure. To make it out of. He said softly as Bambi’s eyes closed. “Hey kid. You’re good. You made it. Just lean on me for a spell.”

Bambi leaned on Charles as she tried to focus. She saw his Duster was coated with dark dripping splotches as her hand touched blood that was not her own. “Your hurt! Are you alright? Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.” Charles just smiled, “I’ve just taken few more hard hits than usual violet eyes. That’s all. I’ll just need to lean on you when you take breaks form leaning on me.” Bambi let out a pained chuckle, “Hey no fair. You weigh a shit ton more.” Gibson, who had been keeping a sharp eye on the way they came, cleared his throat a second later. “Uhmm, we do need to keep moving. I’ve had an analysis running on that locked hatch but I’m going to need to rerun a couple confirmation scans. Oh, by the way, here,” He handed Bambi an intact Edgar grip first, “I tripped over this.”

As they began the final part of the climb back to the dumping junction, Bambi glanced back, knowing the ghosts could still follow even if that monster couldn’t. She leaned on Charles’s left shoulder, hugged him and whispered very quietly with a tone not unlike that sob that broke his heart those years ago, “You know Big C, I really hate the fuckin’ Stretch.” He tried to keep his voice even as he felt a tear forming and squeezed her back, “I know kid. I know.”