Cognitive Deviance

51. Bulwark

June 7, 2045 - 9:55 AM

The locker room was cold, and Margo's eyes fought to stay open. It was rare that she managed to go a whole night without sleep, but the previous night was one such evening. After emptying her guts into her workplace's toilet, she went home to continue the painful process. She tried telling herself it was just something she ate, or maybe it was the fact she saw several helpless individuals gunned down in the Psycho Slums earlier because Andrade and the other officers didn't want to take a chance.

Or maybe it was because of Ellie's return. Or even Carl's. Or Royce's. Or somebody! She just knew something significant would come into her life way too soon, and she knew that it very likely wasn't for the best.

Being stuck in a locker room with Andrade while they were both in nothing more than their underwear did nothing to soothe her either.

"Goddamn, Sandoval," Andrade groaned, waiting by the lockers away from the toilet stalls. "Are you sick or something?"

No, Margo thought, her head dangling over the toilet, feeling like it would pop off like a bottle cap. I'm just terrified of going to a place where the rates of sexual violence are triple the amount of the rest of the country.

"If you don't feel good, then I'll let Mason know you're not cut out for this. Those suits they're bringing are expensive as shit, y'know. You puke on yours, you pay for it."

"Shut up," Margo hissed. "For one second, please."

She leaned against the silver wall of the stall surrounding her, flinching as the freezing cold metal made contact with her bare shoulder. Her head felt empty, as if nothing more than air filled it. Her eyelids hung low over her eyes, and the poisonous feeling of worry still radiated in her stomach. Every breath was met with the sensation of a boot lowering down onto her chest, crushing her underneath.

"Tick tock, Sandoval," Andrade said. "I'll leave the room and get you some help if you need it."

"You're really..." Margo groaned, gasping for air, "gonna walk out...in nothing but your bra and panties?"

"Easiest way of getting someone's attention. I could get you a nurse or something faster that way. Maybe even make someone's day."

Yes, because that's what you're good at, Margo thought again. Making people's days.

"Alright, time's up. They're coming in."

Margo flinched as the locker room door flew open with a deafening crash followed by a series of footsteps.

"Oh?" a woman said, and the footsteps stopped. "Usually our customers don't undress until the demonstration begins."

"We're kind of in a rush," Andrade replied. "Inspector Daniela Andrade. Hope you like what you see."

Margo rolled her eyes as she rose from the floor, goosebumps rippling across her skin as she moved away from the edge of the stall. She flushed the toilet and, with a reluctant sigh, stepped out into the bright white lights, a row of sinks positioned in front of her. To her left where all the lockers were stood Andrade, clad in red underwear with her robotic arm on full display, leathery scars blemishing the skin around her elbow where the limb connected. Another woman stood before her, but Margo could only see two suitcases peeking out of the corner leading into the locker room.

"And there's the other," Andrade said. "Officer Margo Sandoval. She's pretty hot, too."

"Shut up," Margo growled, and she marched over to the sink to wash her hands.

"Well, props for hygiene, but could you really be any slower?"

"No, it's fine," the other woman replied. "Take your time honestly! I'm in no rush."