Dead World

Chapter 6: Sweet

Mar

I left the market satisfied but concerned. The real silver-lining was that Rocky had work for me, some tiny relic computer that he recently inherited. He wanted me to see if I could fix it, claiming it was beyond his usual scope. The small device thing was tucked in my undergarments in a small scrap of plastic, safe from water and hidden from the world in case we got stopped on the way and had to dump our bag. It had happened on a few occasions. They only took the good stuff from us, especially electronics. It was a lesson I learned the hard way once and lost a very nice flashlight I was supposed to fix for Rocky. He took the loss well in exchange for some free work. I didn't worry about pat downs, that wasn't their priority. Probably didn't want to get our stench on them.

Karl and I walked back in the rain sneaking through the empty part of town, dodging drones that whirred over head and patrols that occasionally sounded through the streets. We didn't speak with words, but silent gestures that indicated safety or danger. Getting back to the workshop was a well-rehearsed dance for two. We dashed under awnings when possible, but mostly got soaked through to the bone in the downpour. Our teeth were chattering in harmony by the time we snuck back through the window into the workshop.

Magda rose from her bed immediately worried about our shivering.

"We're fine," I said dismissively and handed her the bag of things. "I got the pills."

Magda took the things gratefully. I moved to my bunk to grab a holey gray sweater. I tugged my wet tank top off and replaced it with the sweater, feeling better almost instantly. I shrugged off my pants as well and replaced them with dry ones. While changing, I moved the small device from between my clothes to under my thin mattress, the safest spot until I could work on it.

Magda sifted through the bag and put things away. I swiped the batteries from her hand before she had a chance to put them away and crawled into Alfred's bunk. He smiled when he saw me and made room for me to tuck in. His tall frame made it awkward, but I cuddled in away, thankful for his warmth. I put my hand out and he placed his music player in my palm. I swapped the batteries out quickly, snapping the tiny plastic guard into place as the small orange screen illuminated. Placing one headphone in Alfred's ear and the other in mine, we waited in anticipation for the first notes to ring. We both fell asleep to the tunes, some songs softer than others, but treasures nonetheless to listen to. A reminder of a time where music was still made and people were still free.

I awoke not much longer later, probably the music had gone off and the silence pulled me toward consciousness. Alfred slept next to me, still and undisturbed, one headphone still tucked into his ear. I pulled the headphone from my ear and placed into his before rolling gently off the mattress. Moving to my mattress, I slid my fingers under to it and grabbed the small device. I shook it next to my ear to hear if anything was loose but it made no noise.

Knowing I wasn't going to be able to fall asleep again anytime soon and since it was too late to head out to work on the SUV, I looked at the electronic thing, unsure of what it really was. I pressed on every centimeter of the surface and the screen never lit up. Impatience made me crazy so I moved to my workbench, clicking on the small work lamp and angling it so that it didn't lighten the rest of the workshop. There were two small screws on the bottom of the device, hidden under worn rubber caps. It wasn't the type of thing that was expected to be worked on or repaired, that was obvious as soon as I opened the device up. It was rudimentary, just a board and some wires tucked so tightly against one another I worried I wouldn't be able to actually put everything back together again. It was even older than I originally thought, the technology seemed nearly barbaric.

Using plastic tweezers, I moved the wires around trying to ascertain what exactly was causing the little device to not power on. It took a tiny battery, small enough to fit into a watch. I borrowed one from an extra motherboard I had lying around in a drawer. Little electronic components were scattered all over and within my workbench. Wires and metal bits filled the drawers, tucked between screwdrivers and delicate tools for tinkering. It wasn't just my speciality it was my passion.

In my analysis of the device, I saw one red wire twisted out from its place on the board. Two smaller wire ends stuck out from the red plastic sheathing. It wasn't unplugged from the board, it was ripped out. An easy fix for me. As I waited for the soldering gun to warm up so I could melt the wires onto the board and reconnect the circuit, I removed the entire board. Below it sat the screen and tucked into the corner was a tiny fragment of metal.

A tracker.

We were well-versed with trackers since it was also our responsibility to plant them on the cars for Dead World. Our trackers came in metal briefcases delivered to us by race officials. They were small things as well, microscopic compared to the one in the game but they shared the same evil gleam of smooth metal with a tiny receiver. We constantly had to get creative about where we'd hide them from the racer. Nothing ruined the fun more than when a racer removed the tracker and went rogue only for game officials to execute them for abandoning the race, a means of disqualification.

This tracker lacked the corporate mark of the ones for Dead World, where there usually sat an ornate letter G, there was nothing. I had a few options, all of them sent my heart hammering in my chest.

The tracker was a remnant of something else and wasn't even functioning.The tracker was placed purposefully.

I dashed for the toilet. With the tracker tucked into a small plastic bag, I flushed it without a second thought. At the pace of the sewer system in the city, the tracker would be halfway across town within the hour and then by morning, it would be processed. But I worried it was too late, the damage had been done.

My first instinct was to blame Rocky for giving me such a device, for putting me in danger. But eventually I cooled down and went for the logical explanation. It was highly unlikely that Rocky knew about the tracker let alone would make sure I got it. However, if someone knew I worked in this type of workshop with a relationship so close to Dead World, maybe it did make sense that they'd want it to end up in my possession. But what would they do with that tracker? It could send information, yes, but only simple things like location and temperature. I didn't even want to consider that it might be more advanced than I knew or that it meant someone was coming to the workshop content with the tracker even making it there.

Magda stirred in her sleep, a little putter of air between her lips that frightened me by the noise. I looked over to my family in their bunks, asleep and blissfully unaware of the danger I might've unleashed.

The device sat tucked into my workbench, potentially fixed but I was too scared to turn it on. Too scared to move. Anxiety kept me awake.

At first I couldn't stop thinking about the tracker, but then as I laid in my bunk and waited for consequences, I thought about the other dead bodies I had seen.

The fourth body was Valerie. She was barely older than Karl and I. When she was 14 and I was 12, she woke up in the middle of the night. I watched her creep across the workshop in a thin white nightgown that she had bartered for at the market. While kissed by moonlight she had moved to the back of the workshop where we kept the anti-freeze and oil. She drank half a gallon before she started vomiting everywhere.

"It tastes sweet," she told me, her lips and teeth stained green. She held the poison out to me, not like an offering or damnation, but like a choice. I didn't take the chemicals from her, instead I watched her eyes roll back into her head and spew out a mixture of blood and green liquid. Magda woke up during the commotion and screamed. I could still hear the scream now, if I thought about it hard enough.

By morning Valerie's body had grown cold and Hatsui had her dragged away by officials to the incinerator. That was day he finally starting locking the fluids up in his office. Sometimes I wondered if I could've stopped her but mostly I wondered if she was happy with her choice. That was all that mattered.

I thought about the anti-freeze, hidden in Hatsui's office. But if someone was coming for the device and me, it was too late for poison.