A Collection of Ruins

Chapter 6 - The Met Princess (Tess)

Tess

I stared down at the plate in front of me, assessing what the Rats – as Matt called them – considered food. The light brown sludge seemed to ooze around the hastily carved wooden plate, colliding with some sort of green, leafy paste. There were orange chunks that seemed to almost resemble carrots, but I couldn’t be sure. I looked up at Matt, who sat across from me at the rusted, metal table. He lifted a spoonful of the brown sludge to his mouth, the concoction making disturbing squelching noises as the portion on his spoon separated from that on the plate.

“What?” He asked me, perplexed, around a mouthful of sludge.

I stuffed my spoon into the sludge and picked some up, before turning the spoon on its side and watching the food fall back to the plate with a sickening noise. I looked back up at him. “You really expect me to eat this?”

“We’re not expecting you to do anything, darlin’.” A voice drawled from behind me.

Across from me, Matt seemed to shrink back. This person was important.  

“But,” the voice continued, “if you don’t wanna starve to death, I expect you’ll hop down off your high-ass, Metropolis-engineered horse of yours and eat what’s in front of you.” 

I scoffed, trying – and failing – to keep my anger in check. “And who are you meant to be? Mayor of dickhead town?”

I turned on the rusty bench and came face to face with an abdomen in a ratty, stained brown shirt. Hesitantly, I forced my eyes up to the newcomer’s face and met  red-rimmed eyes. They were blue, glassy and furious. It took all my strength not to flinch away. Instead I held my ground, matching my stare to his. The man – boy, I realised – was skin and bone, his greasy blond hair sat any which-way and fell across his face to his almost hollowed-out cheekbones. Even compared to the rest of the under-fed Rats, he looked downright sickly. His bloodshot eyes took in my face before he answered my question.

“Blaine. I’m the one in charge here.” He snapped. “Now, I’m doing a favour for a friend, allowing you in here. And regardless of how scary she gets when she’s pissed, if you don’t behave, I won’t hesitate to chuck you back out to those Infected out there.” He threw a bundle of fabric onto my lap. “You’ll wanna put them on. We can’t have you dressing all fancy-like and giving us away, can we?” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes travelling down my body and back up again. “Purple isn’t really the best colour for camouflage.”

I pulled at the hem of my purple t-shirt, trying not to cringe away from the bloodstains that weren’t there when I put it on. Then I raised my eyes to the Leader’s again. “Who’s the friend?” I asked.

“What?”

“The friend.” I said again. “Who you’re doing the favour for.”

“That’s none of your concern.” He snapped.

“It is if she’s keeping me here.” I argued. “What does she want from me?”

“Information.” The leader of the rats spat the word as if it were poison in his mouth. He seemed to have gathered that I wouldn’t stop questioning him until he gave me some sort of answer. Before I could respond, he turned on his heel. “Eat.” Was all he said before stalking off.

Matt stared at me, wide-eyed.

“What?” I asked incredulously, giving in to Blaine’s command and stabbing one of the carrot-like vegetables with my fork and putting it in my mouth. It tasted less like carrot and more like cardboard.

He blinked. “Do you have a death wish?”

I rolled my eyes. “My wish,” I muttered, “is to find out why I’m here, give them whatever the hell they want and then get back home before my father sends out a search party that will kill everyone here when they find me.”