Coming Undone

Chapter 42

Quix slipped her headphones on, crossed her legs, pulled the chips a little closer and locked her eyes on the screen. Her heart pumped a little harder, the icy drinks between her and Runt spiked with caffeine and laced with that divine human fruit, the strawberry. Runt was wrapped in a blanket, his own headset loosely draped around his neck while he keyed in a code through his datapad, making the screen ahead of them pixelate.

It was time.

He'd promised her relaxation, and his boss had insisted they unwind.

Runt had already unwound. His armor was stashed under his bunk, and had been traded for loose sweats and a threadbare t-shirt he'd borrowed from Juan. The pair of bottles he'd already downed were sitting next to him, and a third was nestled between his legs. His eyes sparkled lazily as he worked with his datapad and chatted with Quix, that smile of his quietly coming and going like the face of the moon.

He was relaxed, finally. And it made her smile.

That said, she was having a hard time finding the same relaxation he had.

"Can you switch it to channel 2?" He asked, reaching for the chips.

Quix glanced around, and scooped up the remote lying at the foot of the coverless bed. She tapped the power button, and the screen on the wall came to life, filling the room with a differently colored glow. The display already read 'channel 2'.

The display jumped to a glowing screen, emblazoned with the fiery logo of the game Runt had promised her. A dramatic score filled her headphones a moment later while the loading screen enticed her.

"Oh heck yes." Runt said, wiggling a little and curling his tail around himself tighter. "I've been waiting for them to release this game for like, a year. They kept the same soundtrack composer as the last game, so the music is gonna be awesome." He said, his smile wide as he stared ahead.

Quixxa smiled too, but she was almost nervous.

Something about it didn't seem right. Not the game, or Runt. Runt was excited, as he often was. And that warmed her heart. And the game... she'd heard of it, and had played one of the prequels. All was well. She knew that.

Yet, her heart wasn't settled.

Something tugged at her. Gnawed at her. An invisible jaw was biting down on the little piece of heaven she'd found, making it seem like her joy, radiant as it was, wouldn't last forever. Because it never had before. Something ached in the back of her mind, telling her to check behind her. It warned her to lock the doors. A voice in her head asked if she still had her gun within reach, and where her escape route was. The echoes of gunshots, screams and the report of grenades still made her hands twitch from time to time, and even the memories of her MLA comrades made her want to shut the door and crawl under the bed. Discord had a melody to play for her, despite Runt's best efforts.

In short, part of her was still on New Medina. Part of her was still terrified, angry, clutching a gun and spewing curses. Part of her that had been hurt, caught, and broken so many times before didn't want to relax.

Because relaxation meant defeat.

Quix rolled her neck, lifting her drink to her lips as she tried to quiet her soul.

Take it easy. She thought, the strawberry alcohol hitting her palate, You're safe now. This is what normal people do.

She set her drink down, swallowed, and gripped the controller.

At least, she thought that was what normal people did. If she was honest, she didn't have a clue. Because she'd never known better.

Now that she was free, clear, acquitted and promised a new life, however...