*1*

A blend of cyans and oranges streaked across the sky as the sun crawled slowly back into its place above the sprawl. To see the sky this clear and bright was a rare sight—not that anyone inside the Luxor noticed or even cared.

The small dimly lit bar was full of the regulars picking up a last buzz or just hanging out because they had no where better to go and the Luxor never closed its creaky doors. The bar was quiet the party was over for the night.

 El Scott, was behind the bar with his back to the customers as he restocked the spearmint infused Blue Ice in his display of spirits.  El had been in employment of the Luxor only a few months but, he had dealt with enough not to worry about anyone doing anything funny when his back was turned. He was only a little over  5’4’’ but, he was strong with a no nonsense attitude. In his first weeks he made it a point to  know everyone who came in nearly every night and make friends. In  times like these having more friends was more of a  survival skill than a social one.

Pascal  was popular with the whole city it seemed. He couldn’t walk into the place without being greeted by someone and offered a place to sit. He was 32 ut didn't look a day over 25. His red hair was striped with blond and his dark clothes always clung to his skin He was friendly with the people he knew and when he was alone or in a new place he was quietly observant. Pascal was working off his buzz at a table with a party of  4 girls and 2  men in suits finishing off the bottle of Cognac Pascal had purchased a few hours ago. They were all just barely holding on and desperately trying to talk politics but, none of it made since.

In the dark corner of the bar, far away from the drunken tables Belle sat tip toeing the line between buzzed and sober. Her raven hair was usually secured to the top of her head but now hung to her chest. She tapped her  green painted finger hard on the bar to get El’s attention and signaled to  for one more drink, a water this time. She spent so much time at the bar she and El had their own sign language. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was listless as she silently ordered.

The front door of the Luxor cracked open apprehensively-- that was the first sign of something wasn’t right.  El stared hard at the door in front of him until it finally swung open, he breathed a sigh of relief as a  normal looking young man walked through the door. The other patrons gave a quick glance to the unfamiliar man but, they went ahead and ignored him. He looked around,  careful not to make eye contact with anyone. On his shoulder he carried a large black and gray bag his hand was covering the logo--he set it down in a chair before taking a seat at the bar--choosing the  seat farthest  away from El.

El walked slowly over to the stranger and pushed a menu in front of his face.  As the man pretended to read the menu El studied the stranger. In his ear was a shiny blue syndicate, his dark hair was neat and cropped, his hand was twitching nervously but he was trying to hide a smile that would come to his lips.  

“You a runner  ?,” El asked

“Fuck it mean to you ?,” the man snarled

“Just asking,” El said,” Nobody gives a damn no way,”

“Coffee,” the young man responded

No one else in the bar seemed to pay attention to the tense exchange of words --except for Belle who was waiting behind him.

“Belle,” she said

“I’m sorry ?,” the man asked turning his head for a second to see her face.

“My name is Belle,” she said sitting next to him.

“Cleo,” he responded looking her up and down and then he turned away indifferently

“You’re jacked?,” she said

“I got a little money,” he responded shrugging her off

Belle let her hand come within inches of a fresh wound on his face. It told her he liked to fight and  he could defend himself.

“So,you’re a-,”

“I’m not interested, girl” he said, “Take  your fucking body somewhere else,”

“You think I’m a whore? ,”

“I know you are,” he said turning away from her.

El sat down a glass of ice water and a metallic cup of  lukewarm coffee on the bar. Belle picked up the coffee mug and traced over it with the pads of her fingernails and threatened to take a sip. Before Belle could put her lips on the rim, Cleo snatched the mug from her.

He barley had a handle on the cup before it shattered into hundreds of perfectly sized diamond pieces in his hand--none of the pieces sharp enough to cut him.  The coffee spilled on to the table and trickled down into his lap.

 Belle picked up her water and abruptly walked  back over to the dark corner of the bar smiling to herself stifling a laugh. Cleo looked at the shards in his hands in amazement but, didn’t say anything as El had another mug of coffee ready for him.

“Threw in some spirit for you,” El said to Cleo as Cleo stood up in disbelief.

“Some people can be such arrogant pricks,” Belle sighed

“I know,” I agreed as she took her seat back  in my lap.

Cleo  had followed after Belle and seemed ready to fight her but, he paused and changed directions when he saw her arms around me.

***

The contracted blades in her hands looked like harmless, tiny silver half-moons in the pads of her fingers as she traced them  lightly over the veins in my right arm. 

They were a terrible side effect.

 Her eyelashes fluttered and as her  head slowly came closer to the bar. I put my hand in the way before she made contact with the cold steel.

“It’s early; I think we can call it a night now,” I suggested

“You mean day ?,” she said gripping my hand in hers.

I pulled on her arm and we headed out the door making eye contact with Cleo but, he didn’t look like he would be a problem. When we stepped outside we walked down a block before Belle strode over to a brick building and arched her back against the building’s large steel door.

I looked up in the building opposite she was leaning against and peered into the vacant window before turning back to her.

“So, thanks for last night--,”  I began

“Don’t thank me,” she said,” There was actually more than one reason I wanted to hang out with you last night,”

“Okay,” I said. These days everyone had their own reasons for what they did.

“Rayne wants to see you,” she said

“So, he sent you ? Bullshit,” I said.

 I moved my hand on her side where she had a large red scythe tattoo of the Mjollner--the Yakuza’s enemy.

“I don’t run with anybody,” she said, ”Officially, anyway. I was up in Mojave a while ago. He said he wanted to see you. Today. ASAP,”

“I guess I refuse to believe you talked to Rayne,” I said

She just shrugged me off and  turned to open the door. When it was unlocked she turned around and kissed me while she tapped her foot  loudly against the steel door.  When she pulled away she  had a smirk on her face.

“That was a happy birthday kiss. 20 seconds,”

***

As I imagined I was the only person on the train to hell. The stuffiness and feeling of the confined space were getting to me. This was hopefully going to be worth it.

I doubt anyone on the outside would have been able to guess  Belles and I’s relationship. She had tried to kill me and I had killed her boss and she was among the people who  knew it. I was sure most people knew I had something to do with Dakota’s death but, it never bothered anyone too much. Belle had unofficially taken over his job and her injuries to me had made me a better person.

We saw each other at the same places and hung out in similar circles but, I should have known something was up when she wanted to celebrate my birthday with me. It was kind of odd she even knew my birthday was today.

We had drinks, talked , danced, bended, met with friends and ended the night forgetting  it all at the Luxor. I should have known that bitch had a agenda.

I had only been to Mojave twice since my first time. One time I would rather not remember and the second one was for my first correction from Rayne and his men. It proved to be the last. Rayne would only want  to see me in person if I had done a tiny thing wrong or something extremely right. I know Rayne didn’t give a fuck about my birthday.

 

The train pulled through the desert and finally made its way into the station at Mojave. I looked down to see no one was waiting for me. Life seemed to be going as usual down there which meant nothing appeared to be going on at all.

I walked past the shops which seemed to have more business than usual but, that was normal--business  was booming after all. I headed down the street until I reached the  restaurant above where Rayne’s headquarters was located. 

That’s when  I saw her. She was sitting in an outdoor patio at the front of the restaurant.

Sara’s eyes caught mine and we were in a deathlock .I didn’t know if I should pretend like I didn’t see her or just walk up to her with some half-ass greeting. It didn’t matter because she was walking up to me , I quickly tried to relax my stance.

I hadn’t seen Sara Grace in  5 months

After the Life Summit incident we had come back here and  reported back to Rayne. That was the time that I came here that I never want to remember.  The air between us all was so bitter. Rayne’s  only concern was that Morrissey was dead and who my next target was going to be.

Sara had decided to  live in Mojave  at Rayne’s headquarters. She said she was sick of the sprawls but, I think she wanted a place where none of us would see her grieving over Saint.

I had not heard anything about her and  I wasn’t sure how she felt about me or if she even cared about me at all.

“Sit with me,” she said putting a hand to my shoulder, greeting me like I was an old friend.

“I can’t Rayne asked  to--,”

“No he didn’t. I did.” She said,” I told Belle to come get you for me. I thought if you knew it was me you might not come,”

I wanted to ask why she thought that but I didn’t. We walked back to her seat at the restaurant.

“Where are Luce and Chris ?,” I asked

“I don’t think you really care about them,” she said

I didn’t.

“I hear you’ve been busy,” she said,

“I don’t think you really care about that,” I shot back

“Actually, I do Alan,” she said ,”I kind of  taught you every fucking thing you know. Which isn’t saying much,”

Seeing Sara made me think of Minnow and I wanted to be anywhere but there.

“War brings a lot of business,” I said

The waitress dropped off a bowl of cold soba noodles in front of Sara and quickly walked off. The people in the shops knew not to be friendly of even acknowledge a patron unless they acknowledge you. You never know who you could be serving or what you may overhear. 

Sara  fiddled with her chopsticks aligning them in her left hand

“Alan, you know we didn’t start this war, right ? I mean a conflict maybe but, the war is pent up political unrest, social injustice and more importantly lucrative for the Eastern State.”

I believed her somewhat. The Life Summit  hadn’t been in the news  a week  before the attacks started. They just needed the reason and we finally gave them one.

“What do you want ?,” I asked as she abandoned the chopsticks for a fork.

She signaled something to the waitress and getting up  we walked to the corner and across the street, stopping at a brick warehouse. She opened an access key and then turned to me

“Is today your birthday ?,” she asked

“Yeah,” I said

She sighed and  punched in a series of numbers and the large garage door opened. I followed her inside the large warehouse space  and she threw a set of car keys at me. I looked around  to see a sleek high-tech black car in the far corner. I walked closer to it and examined the back.

A Lincoln U23.

“This is my car,” I said

“I never explained this but, this car and the Morrissey hit were the end of my debt to Rayne. The Yakuza have no need for toy cars like this so ,I’ve just been kind of holding on to it. Anyway it’s taking up space so, I’m giving it to you as a . . . gift,”

“This is the worst case of re gifting I have ever heard,” I said, ”How did you even know it was my birthday ?,”

She hesitated

“Luce?,” I asked

She nodded and briskly walked past me out the door  without another word.

I circled the car and let  my hand rest on the trunk, where I had been held captive. I don’t think I’ll be able to open that trunk for a while. I got in the car and sped out the garage. I caught one last glimpse of Sara --sitting back at her table--out my rearview mirror before I headed for the road.

  I looked at the string of beads on my wrist—one of the many things concealing my identity. I could get rid of the beads and just  drive back home—back to my parents and school and finally get my life back.

I was kidding myself. The area between here and home was no longer turnpikes and empty roads but, battlegrounds.

*2*

I live in a cemetery.

The housing complex I live in is a Yakuza owned building—it was an abandoned train factory but, now it houses 44 loft apartments-- 2 on each floor. The space isn’t exactly what you would call renovated to be made into living quarters.  The apartments were  just  oversized  wooden studios  with running water. The large windows take up most of the eastern side letting natural sunlight light up the space.

I share the space with Jean and Allison but they were just a technicality. The only piece of decoration in the room is a pink curtain that was strung around a large corner of the room where Allison stayed. Behind the curtain was  a single bed, desk and a computer.

When  the war started it became impossible to pass between the Western Republic and Eastern State without paperwork and a lot of other shit so, there was no way Allison could get home.  We had found a way to send encrypted e-mails to her mother which she had done every week for the past few months. The only conditions were she couldn’t tell her mom where she was or how she had gotten there. The only thing she could let Mrs. Kyto know is she hadn’t died at the Life Summit.

 I knew Allison spent most of her time watching her friends lives on the internet. A few months ago I tried  killing Allison to put her out of her misery but she begged for her life. She was so hopeful this war would end and she would go home. I wish she realized that could be years if not decades from now before this mess got sorted out.

The only one more pathetic than Allison was Jean.

His queen sized bed was in the center of the space. The frame was made up of dense curls of tarnished  steel--hanging from the headboard is an assortment of chains, morning stars and handcuffs. It was the most  sadistic thing I had ever fucking seen. The worse part of it was that Jean sleeping in this bed was  an upgrade.

6 months ago, after we  moved in  together he would sit in the corner never acknowledging anyone and just crying, sleeping  or just sitting praying. Then one day a few weeks ago I walked in and the bed was there Jean was sitting on talking to a very satisfied looking blueboy.

“You look better,” I had said walking past him

“It seems impossible but, time passes, brother,” he said, “Even for me,”

Of course the next day he lay in bed all day and from that the bed became his prison. He hadn’t left and was back to his old ways.

“You said time passes,” I had  asked

 “I was not saying, merely quoting,” he said,” I tried to get back to my life but, I don’t know my life without her. Time does pass yes, but each second just aches more,”

After that Jean had spent the last month in bed going through his book collection and every once in a while he’d want to talk but, that was it.

They both wanted to be left alone in the quiet stillness to mourn over what they had lost.

I live in a cemetery

I walked over to the corner of the room where I kept my belongings, a bed, a wardrobe, a few safes and my black metal trunk. I opened the curtains and looked out my window  and into the window of the building next door t to ours. Through the window I could see Belle sleeping her bed,  still wearing her heels, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

Closing the curtains I walked over to Jean who was lying on top of  his bed, the soft cover of a vintage Harlequin Romance on his face. He was ignoring me--his violet eyes concentrating too hard on each word. His jet black hair was spread messily around the bed. It had gone from being neat to just long and unkept.

I walked closer and sat on his bed. The decision I was about to make rolling over in my head.

 

“So, I saw Sara today,” I said

He pushed the book away and sat up.

“How is she ?,”he asked

She was great but, I wasn’t sure he wanted to hear that

“I don’t know,” I said, ”But, she gave me my car,”

“You have a car ?,” he questioned

“Yeah, it’s a Lincoln U23, the 2082 series,” I said brandishing the keys

He took the keys from me and standing up he walked around the room, picked up a white shirt and buttoned it over his bare chest

“Let’s go for a ride,” he said

***

The engine was still as quiet as ever and we slid through the desert sand, the friction jerking the car all over the place as we drove over any conceivable speed limit..  Jean hit the breaks and it took all my strength not to go flying through the window at the abrupt stop.

“Shit, Jean  you’re going to get us killed !,” I yelled

“What’s the point of driving if you don’t go fast ? ,” he laughed

I could think of a million but, it was the first time I had seen him smile in months.

He slowed down to 80 as we moved through the desert. I had no idea where we were going or if we were even going anywhere.  We were coming up to a sprawl in the distance. Jean slowed down even more until we were a few more feet in front of it.

“Where are we ?,” I asked

“Fort Perch ,” he said

“Don’t tell me you’re enlisting,” I said

“No,” he said,”Fuck no. This was our former home. It’s time my parents found out their little girl is dead,”