Familiar Faces
The last 12 hours had been a blur for Aster. After having his chat with Pidge about their new canine acquaintance, they had gone to bed and left camp early in the morning. After grabbing supplies, they had been driving their bikes all day, and the blazing sun was getting to him. He wondered how Pidge was able to deal with it, since her normal climate was much colder.
“Hey Pidge, let’s take a break, the heat is getting to me. We should rest and rehydrate.” They found a cliff overlooking the desert and stopped there, pulling out their bottles.
Pidge plopped herself down on the cliff face, watching as the heat rose in waves from the ground beneath them. The Wastes were a different climate than she was used to and she found that the heat would quickly overwhelm her. If Pidge wasn’t too careful, her snowy down could be the end of her. Still, the view from up here and the slight, hot breeze, felt good compared to the sticky sheen of sweat that glistened along her arms.
Even with the sun protectant from a sponsor, her skin was still sensitive to the bright rays that shone down on them. Careful not to guzzle her entire supply, she took a few, meager sips from the aluminum bottle, the cold water quick to cool her insides.
“We shouldn’t linger for too long,” Pidge warned with a slight frown. “We’re already running late. Wouldn’t want to miss the last shuttle back up and get stuck here.”
“Definitely. Even though I’m more tolerant of heat, I’m used to high humidity. This stupid desert is drying me out so much, I think I might shed ahead of schedule.”
Thinking about the last shuttle had him feeling a mix of emotions. He was excited that the first game was almost over, but he also was nervous thinking about the games that came next. Even though he tried not to keep up with watching the games in past years, he knew that they got more dangerous the further they went.
Rather than let his imagination loose on the possibilities of the next games, he took out his dart kit, deciding to focus on taking stock of his supplies. Nothing had changed really, but it was something to keep his hands and mind occupied.
Pidge wiped the sweat off her brow with her arm, her feathers ruffling. If they weren’t in a rush, she would have liked to sit here a bit longer, the view wasn’t bad. “Wait, you shed?” She asked, as though the realization had just occurred to her. A small smirk lifted her lips up on both sides. “What does it feel like? Is it weird?” Rather than be grossed out by the subject, Pidge was intrigued. She rose, standing over Aster and reached out to pinch behind his elbow.
It was more solid than she thought. “Your skin feels normal,” well, as normal as any mutant skin could feel.
“Ow.” He recoiled from her pinch, her nails sharper than other mutants he had met. “Yes, I shed. I’m a reptile after all, it’s something we all do.”
He sat back, taking a sip of water before answering her other question. “It felt a little weird when I was young, but I guess I’m used to it now. I’m not sure how to explain it, I’ve never had to describe it before.” He picked at a bit of skin that had already begun to flake, confirming that his shed was happening soon. “I guess, try to imagine pruning old feathers out to make room for new ones, but all the feathers are attached to each other, and come off in big pieces. It sounds weird, but it’s just something that happens. Other than disposing of the old skin, I don’t think about it much.”
Pidge tried to picture it, but molting wasn’t exactly something you could feel. The feathers came out on their own, whether it was through movement, or fighting with others. “I guess,” she conceded. Pidge stretched her arms above her head, exposing the pale skin on her belly. At that moment, the owl froze, tilting her head. Her hair fell to one side over her shoulder as she listened.
“Get up,” she said suddenly. Pidge sprinted back towards the bike, it was clear that whatever it was had irked her. “”There’s something coming this way.” She could hear the low-whistle of a hoverbike zooming over the earth. “If we go now, we can probably get away from them.”
Startled by her sudden change in tone, Aster got up and looked across the horizon. He couldn’t see any sign of people coming, but then again, Pidge’s hearing was better than his was. Whatever she heard, it was at least cause for caution.
“How far away is it? If they’re close enough to see us run off, then they’d be able to catch us.” He didn’t want to be caught in a fight he was unprepared for. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he wouldn’t be much use in a fight without being able to prepare darts first. Somehow, he doubted that they’d let him sit on the sidelines unharmed as he ground herbs up in a vial.
“Our best bet is to hide and let them go past us. The chances they’ll stick around here are basically zero, the third camp is close enough for them to just go straight there.”
Pidge tilted her head again, listening. The whining of the wind, coupled with the sound of the bike made it difficult to discern which was which. She closed her eyes, focusing for a moment. “They’re coming in hot, we won’t have time to run.” She confirmed, her brow furrowing, a concerned frown gracing her lips. She turned to survey their current situation. They were at the top of a cliff, at the most visible point possible.
They needed to get down from here, at least. Her eyes scanned their current landscape, but they were nowhere near as strong during the day as they were at night. “There,” Pidge spotted what she believed was a rocky outcropping. It was not only shaded, but would provide just enough coverage for them and the bikes. “Let’s go that way,” at least, that’s what she thought she saw.
The pair quickly moved their bikes over to the outcropping and took cover behind it, watching for the approaching contestants. After a minute or two, Aster could also hear the whine of hoverbikes, and not long after that the riders came into view. To his dismay, the riders stopped at the bottom of the cliff and dismounted, only a few dozen meters from where they were hiding. Pidge gave him a look that said No chance they’ll stop, huh?
Aster’s mind turned as he pulled out his dart gun and assessed the situation. If they ran, the group would see them as they left, assuming the sound of the bikes turning on didn’t give them away sooner. He could make tranquilizer darts if he was quiet, but he was a bit too far away to guarantee a shot. Plus, once the first dart was out, he’d have a harder time hitting the rest when they would look for the dart’s origin.
Taking a closer look at the riders, he noticed that there were four of them, each a hulking beast that seemed taller and more muscular than the one before. None of them were wearing anything more than simple clothes and sponsor suits, leaving their necks exposed. If he could just…
At that moment, Aster froze. One of the riders had nearly a dozen tattoos visible, and one in particular caught his eye. On his neck, peering out from behind the collar of his shirt was an image of a hideous creature. Pointed ears, spiky protrusions along its back, mouth agape to reveal a dangerous looking set of sharp teeth.
“Los Chupacabras.” He whispered, his fists clenching and muscles tensing. It had been more than a year since he had seen such a tattoo, but there was no mistaking it.
Pidge glanced between Aster and the dart gun. “Don’t.” She warned in a harsh whisper, wondering if he was crazy. Using that dart now, when he could only land one hit, would be suicide. One on one, maybe, but two against four? Pidge shook her head. She huddled down in the dirt, attempting to hide in the shadow. Luckily, her sponsor jacket was dark enough that she managed to blend in. Her white feathers, however, would stand out if they looked this way.
Their best option was to wait it out. Hopefully these guys didn’t intend to stay the night here and would quickly move on.
Regretting not listening to Pidge and running, Aster sank down and put his dart gun away. The group of riders didn’t seem to have noticed them or their bikes, so as long as they stayed hidden then they could make it out of there once the riders fell asleep.
Night trickled down the horizon like condensation melting slowly on cold glass. The duo stayed hidden, listening to the group of rival mutants joke loudly while talking about their murderous escapades. Apparently, the reason the group hadn’t just moved on to the third camp yet, was because they wanted to catch unsuspecting contestants and kill them, taking their stuff for themselves. Not that Aster was opposed to robbing on the road, but this was brutal. Inside the camps, fighting or killing someone was prohibited; unless you could get away with it. Outside the camps, however, anybody was fair game, and these muscleheads wanted to take advantage of that.
Not having gotten much sleep the night before, Aster had begun to drift off when a particularly roaring laugh from one of the riders jolted him awake. He scolded himself for falling asleep in such a dangerous situation. Pidge was still awake, watching the stars with wide eyes, and glancing at the group every now and then. The lizard turned to side-eye the group that was keeping them from making progress. His eyes flit to the man with the familiar tattoo on his neck, who had tossed his head back and laughed at something another mutant said. One of the slightly less huge riders spoke up, asking the gang member a question.
“So, what marks do you like to go after? You like a challenge, like Gambit?”
“Eh, on occasion. Sometimes I get bored of my usual marks and look for a real fight.”
“So, then who do you go after?”
“Children.” The gang member paused, as if to add dramatic effect to his horrifying statement. “Adults are fun and all, but there’s nothing like the rush you get from completely overpowering someone. Children are weak and easy to break, and their screams make it all the more fun. Please, no! Don’t hurt me mister! I want my mommy!” he squeaked, mocking the high pitch of a young child.
Hearing the brute laugh about killing children made Aster’s blood boil. Was a man like this the one who kidnapped his brother? Did he make quips and jokes while choking the life out of him, as he did now? How long did Mel suffer at the hands of vermin like him, before finally being spitted above a fire? Seething with rage, Aster pulled out his dart kit and began working. He wouldn’t leave for the finish line until this man was dead.
Pidge was quick to take notice, her eyes widening even more. She reached over to place a hand on top of Aster’s own to stop him. Slowly, Pidge shook her head. “If you do this,” she hissed “you’re on your own.” Messing with these guys was akin to suicide. Even Pidge was not afraid to admit that these men were sizable and could probably take them both out easily.
“I don’t care about those other contestants, but that filth from Los Chupacabras needs to die.” Aster whispered back, continuing to make what he needed. Three fast acting tranquilizers and one lethal ought to do it. “If you want to leave, then fine. I’m waiting until they sleep anyways, so you can run off if you like. I’m staying here and killing him.”
In the end, Pidge rolled her eyes, but remained put. She couldn’t leave him here, not when he was about to do what was possibly the stupidest thing he had ever done. Starting a fight? Now? In the middle of a blood bath? Pidge huffed, but leaned deeper into the crevice they were hiding in, her feathers ruffling. “It’s your funeral,” she muttered, arms crossed.
After what seemed like hours, three of the mutants went to sleep, leaving one to keep watch. Aster’s seething rage kept him awake, barely able to keep himself from just rushing them. He wanted the gang member dead, but he also didn’t particularly want to die today. Not to the likes of those murderous bastards. When the man on watch walked away to go pee, Aster made his move.
Stripping off his shirt, he left the rocks where Pidge was still hiding and followed the man. The noise of a steady stream hitting the ground covered up the small noise of the dart leaving Aster’s gun, but the mutant definitely noticed the prick in his neck.
“What the-” The mutant slapped the back of his neck, thinking a bug had bit him. Instead, his hand came away with the dart Aster had fired at him. The tranquilizer worked fast, knocking him unconscious before he had a chance to run back to his group. One down, three to go.
Back at the camp Aster shot the two goons with tranquilizers, each waking up for a brief panicked moment before falling back asleep. With them no longer a problem, he carefully walked up to the camp and kneeled over the remaining mutant. Looking down on his face, seeing the almost peaceful way the mutant was sleeping, Aster wanted to wring his neck. How could this gang member sleep peacefully? Aster still had nightmares from what he did to the Chupacabras back home. What right did this murderer have to a peaceful night’s sleep? No matter. Soon this scum would sleep forever.
“Mel sends his regards.” Aster muttered under his breath, shoving the lethal dart in the mutant’s neck. The mutant roared with rage, jerking awake at the violent pinprick and shoving Aster off. Looking around, the mutant yelled at his slumbering friends to get up, to no avail.
Taking a step back, Aster spoke. “Something wrong with your buddies?”
“Who the fuck are you?” The mutant jumped to his feet, his monstrous height dwarfing Aster. “Did you kill them?”
“What, like their lives matter to you? I’ve never known Los Chupacabras to be the caring type.” Aster didn’t bother confirming or denying the gang member’s accusation. The lethal blend of herbs was working its way into the mutant’s blood, killing him any second now. “Especially the ones that go after kids like my brother.”
It seemed to take a second for the mutant to connect the dots to his earlier conversation. It was odd, the mutant seemed pretty lucid for the amount of lethal herbs pumping through him. I double checked the dosage, right?
“The fuck is-” The mutant pulled out the dart and threw an enraged look at Aster. “You said you had a brother, huh? How would you like to meet him?”
In a flash, the mutant lunged at Aster, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him to the ground. The hands around his neck tightened, air no longer able to make it through. Although he tried to pry the mutant’s hands away, Aster knew he couldn’t overpower this beast. As he struggled to breathe and his vision faded, he only thought one thing. Sorry Mel, I guess I didn’t check.
”That idiot,” Pidge breathed, watching as Aster charged head-first into the worst situation possible. They were so close. Why did he have to ruin this for her? Pidge seethed. She grabbed Aster’s fallen weapon and leaped out into the middle of it all, cursing under her breath at every given opportunity and calling Aster every shade of swear word she could think of. When the dust settled, there was only one standing.