The Nibiru Effect

Memory 10

Why am I doing this? The question repeats in an endless loop as I tiptoe across the field of debris, my limbs shaking like leaves in the wind. The hammering of my heart intensifies as I near my target. Scar Lady is so red from a lack of oxygen that her scar now looks like a gash, the whiteness of it giving the illusion of exposed bone.

Turn around, urges the voice of reason. I ignore it and press on. I don't know what my plan is until I spot it.

The gun lies next to one of the chewed-up benches. I crouch and pick it up. It weighs almost nothing. It's empty.

It doesn't matter. I can still use it.

I travel what remains of my journey in a crouch and take cover behind a bench. One glance is all it takes to reveal Barbie still has Angry Dude pinned. Salt 'n' Pepper stands less than a metre away, his hands tight around his opponent's throat. Scar Lady is still struggling, but her movements are getting jerky, the lack of oxygen making it difficult for her brain to function properly. She has very little time left. I have to make my move. Now.

I consider my options. I can use the weapon to threaten Salt 'n' Pepper, but the second I step out of cover, Barbie will see me. Plus, the gun is out of ammo. That leaves only one option.

I grab the pistol by the barrel and stand up. Barbie glances in my direction, and our eyes lock. I see no anger, only surprise. She didn't expect me to interfere again. To be honest, neither did I.

I fear the young woman will aim her gun at me, but she keeps it pointed at Angry Dude. She tries to voice a warning, but her incapacitated opponent takes advantage of her carelessness to knock the gun from her hand. Moments later, they're struggling for dominance. I tear my gaze away and focus on Salt 'n' Pepper.

I raise the gun and bring it down hard. It makes contact with Salt 'n' Pepper's skull with a dull thud, and the man goes limp. He crumbles onto Scar Lady, nearly crushing her in the process. I rush forward, gun still in hand. The man is heavy, but I manage to roll him off the near-dead woman.

She doesn't move. For a brief moment, I fear I was too late, but then her eyes fly open, and she starts coughing. Relieved, I stumble backward into a seated position and take a few deep breaths.

I can't believe it. This is the second time I risked my life for this woman, and I don't even know her name. All I know is that she bears the same symbol as me and that perhaps—just perhaps—she can shed some light on whatever it is I have gotten myself into.

It takes a while, but Scar Lady eventually recovers from her near-death experience. I expect her to thank me for saving her, but she just sits there, staring at me with unwavering intensity. Her gaze is so intense I can't bear it for more than a few seconds.

"What is it?" I ask.

That seems to snap her out of her odd trance. She shakes her head as if to clear it and smiles.

"Thanks for saving me," she says. Her voice is soft and melodious. "Have we met before? You look familiar."

I chuckle.

"I think I'd remember meeting you."

It's her turn to chuckle.

"You're probably right. I must be mistaken."

Without another word, she crawls over to Salt 'n' Pepper's unconscious body and removes the metallic bracelet I only now realize he's wearing. She inspects it for a second, then throws it onto the train track.

"I think it would be safer if I held on to that," she says, nodding to the gun I still clutch in my right hand.

"It's out of ammo," I say as I hand it over.

Scar Lady's smile evaporates as soon as she takes possession of the weapon.

"Actually," she says, "it's not."

I don't understand what shemeans until she points the gun at me.