New Reality 2: Justice (3 page)

A two-finger swipe across the monitor banished the image, replacing it with a couple having sex. There was no reason to think this was a negative projection, but Marie needed to let her stomach settle.

To keep herself busy, she pulled up the profile picture of the ladies' man and compared it to the love maker on the screen. As was often the case, the man taking his partner to orgasmic heaven was a better-looking, taller, and slightly more buff version of the real person. Marie smiled and shook her head before looking to the left.
Did Blondie find these losers funny too?
 

Her colleague was staring at her screen again.

Marie watched the two bodies writhe together, bashing into one another, the woman screaming his name, him pounding hard into her. Male fantasies were so unimaginative. One hundred and fifty monitors—all of them men and they all wanted to have sex with the same woman. Bigger than Marie expected, bigger than the media would have every woman believe, but huge boobs and big arses all the same.

When Marie looked to her left this time, her heart jumped. The blonde woman was staring straight back at her. Marie spun around and pressed two fingers against the screen.
Swipe.

The headphones stopped her from hearing the door, but the change of light in the room and the smell of fried food announced the arrival of Doug. Marie kept her eyes in front of her and swiped the next projection across.

The headphones weren't enough to mute Doug's voice though.
 

"Morning, my minions."

His vulgar laugh tore through her.

When would the stupid prick stop calling them ‘minions’?
Marie pulled the headphones half off her head and listened to the vile man, but she didn't look at him.
 

"Another day, another credit, eh? Well, I'm here if you need me for anything; maybe another termination?" The very mention of it made Marie's blood run cold.

The Cuban heels on Doug's boots clicked against the linoleum floor as he paced around the small room. At five feet seven, he needed every extra inch he could get.
 

There was a rustling sound and the fried smell increased tenfold. The greasy bacon's scent was so rich that Marie could taste the old fat that it was surely fried in. The soda in her stomach fizzed.

Marie wiped her sweating palms on her trousers before swiping the next image across in front of her. Since finding out she was pregnant, it didn't take much to make her feel ill.

"I've just been speaking to Monty. He's really happy with what we're doing here. He asked me to say well done to you all."

When Marie heard the sound of Doug biting into the crusty bread and then breathing heavily through his nose as he chewed, she burped a small amount of sick into her throat. It tasted mostly of soda, but it had a slightly bitter kick that pulled at the muscles in her neck as she swallowed it back down. This baby clearly hadn't changed its mind on sugary drinks.

The slapping of his fat lips and his breathing got heavier. It was like listening to a pig diving into swill.

Another heave ran through Marie and she stood up, her guts churning.

The usual predatory grin sat on Doug's fat face as he stared at her tits and chewed with his mouth open. "You okay, darling?"

"I need to get something," was all she managed, the vomit screaming to leave her body as she pushed past him.

Marie forced her eyes wide as she shoved her face into the retina scanner. She focused on her breath. In, out. In, out.

Another wipe of her clammy hand on her trouser leg and she pressed the fingerprint pad.

Ding!
The light turned green and the door slid open.

Chapter Four

Marie bent over at the waist and inhaled the toilet's reek of bleach. With sweat beading on her brow and nausea boiling in her stomach, she took deep breaths, her corset holding her upper body firm.

A sharp buck from her midriff and the soda she'd just drank exploded from her mouth in a sweet and bitter rush. Another deep heave and she brought up more of the sugary liquid, painting the bowl black.

She inhaled at the same time as her breakfast filled her throat and it clogged her windpipe. Several attempts at breathing did nothing to clear it. It was like trying to chug glue.

When another burning rush surged forwards, it freed the blockage and sprayed the white porcelain bowl with chunks of bread and egg. Marie panted, her struggle echoing off the hard surfaces in the communal bathroom.
 

Shallow breaths did little to settle her rampaging pulse and a few seconds later, her stomach flipped and she vomited again.
 

Marie shook as she clung onto the cold porcelain with both hands and started to sob.

A loud thud suddenly snapped her from her sorrow as the bathroom door was kicked open.
Fuck!
She closed her eyes and focused on her breath, pulling air into her stormy stomach.

There was another thud as a boot connected with the door of the cubicle next to her. It swung open so fast, it clattered against the stall wall that separated her and the other person.

Snap!
The lock slid home.
 

Chink!
A belt buckle was undone and then hit the floor.
 

Marie listened to whoever it was sit down with a deep and satisfied groan. It was Doug.
Oh, fuck! Whose stupid idea was it to have unisex toilets anyway?

The thick nasal breathing of the man was accompanied by a click at the back of his throat between inhale and exhale. It sounded like his fat body was on its last legs. Marie shook as she huddled next to the toilet.
 

Another groan was followed by a heavy splash.
 

Clapping her hand to her mouth, Marie pinched her nose and silenced another heave that rolled through her body.

Despite clamping her nostrils closed, the smell that hit her two seconds later was so potent, it stung her eyeballs. It was like something had died inside of him and was coming out a month later.
 

The stench hung so thick in the air, Marie's vision blurred. The chemical burn of bleach coming from the toilet was suddenly more appealing, so she leaned in close and breathed it in. It did little to combat the sharp tang that had turned the air thick.

The next groan lasted longer and was tinged with the strain of him pushing. Another deep sigh was followed by another heavy splash. It was like he was dropping rocks down the bowl.

Doug started to whistle. It was an old-time song called
The Gangster of Love
and was accompanied by the spinning of the toilet roll.
Thank god!
 

Seconds later, he flushed the toilet.
 

The chink of his belt buckle was followed by the sliding latch on the cubicle door. Cuban heels clicked against the tile floor.

Creaking hinges were followed by fading footsteps as she listened to him walk down the corridor.

The filthy bastard; he didn't even wash his hands.
 

Another wave of heat hit, and she vomited into the toilet again.

Chapter Five

The
whoosh
of the opening train doors cut through Marie's daydream and brought her back into the moment. They were at her stop. The relief forced her to let out a heavy sigh. It released some of the day's accumulated tension that sat like a rock in her stomach. It wouldn't be long before she was home.
 

Although her current situation seemed hopeless, Marie had to have faith that something would work out. The opportunity to change her lot in life would come up, and when it did, she'd be ready to grab it with both hands. Besides, they were far from rock bottom. Work may be shit, but there was so much to be thankful for. She wasn't on the estate yet, her home life was comfortable, and life in the city was good. As long as they found a way to get married, everything would be okay. Twenty-five thousand credits was a lot of money, but between her and Frankie they'd get it. They had to.

Marie boarded the train with the shuffling throng. In front of her was an old man with a walking stick. The crowd around him was oblivious to his needs, bumping and shoving him, sending him teetering one way and then the other.
 

Tension gripped Marie's shoulders and she ground her jaw.
How could they be so ignorant?
When a woman in a power suit nearly knocked him over, Marie pointed at her. "Hey, you!"
 

The woman turned around.
 

"Can't you see this man's struggling? Show some bloody consideration, yeah? Jesus!"

The commuters stopped as one and turned to Marie. When they saw the old man with his stick, they parted for him.
 

A wrinkly smile lit up his face. He then leaned across and squeezed Marie's forearm in a weak grip. "Thank you, dear."

After nodding at him and returning his warm smile, Marie watched two commuters help him onto the platform.
Maybe people weren't all bad, just a bit too caught up in their day
.
 

Marie stepped off the train, leaving the comfort of the air-conditioned carriage. The late July heat pushed in against her, wrapping her tighter than her corset and making her itch as she started to sweat beneath the fitted garment.
 

The crowd quickly turned into a beehive of activity again. There were hundreds of voices, the reek of coffee and perfume, people knocking into her… her head spun and palpitations unsettled her heart. All of this was without the people from the estate being on the trains. If equality ever won out in Nirvana, the commute would be insane.
 

After a deep breath, Marie looked up at the sky and exhaled. It loosened some of the tension in her chest.

As Marie neared the exit gate, a shrill scream behind her ran a chill down her spine.
What the fuck?
A rush of panic spread through the crowd like a naked flame to petrol. When it hit Marie, it sent her pulse into overdrive.
What was happening?
 

On second thought, it didn't matter what was happening; she could find that out later. All that mattered now was getting the fuck away from the station. Marie turned back to the exit, dropped her head, and marched towards it.
 

With the exit closer and the screams behind nipping at her heels, Marie remained focused on the gate. Then a guard stepped across it and blocked her way and Marie's stomach dropped to her knees.
Shit!

The guard raised his palm and shook his head. Regret stared out of his sad eyes. "Hold it there please, madam."

There was space next to him. She could get through with force. Marie gritted her teeth, but the fight suddenly left her when a woman appeared behind the train guard. Her skin had the clay-red hue of someone from the estate. Her jaw was set tight and her eyes narrowed. There was no shoving past her.

A sneer sat on her face as she nodded at the platform behind Marie. "Turn around
now
!"

Adrenaline quickened Marie's breath and she froze.

"Am I talking fucking Martian, love? Back onto the fucking platform… now!"

Despite having trained herself not to do it, Marie's hand went straight to her stomach. What else was a mother to do when they sensed danger? She turned around and headed back onto the platform.

There were obviously more people from the estate at the other end of the platform doing the same thing, because all the commuters were being shepherded into the same tight space.

Sweat poured down Marie's back as she joined the group. The dense collection of people reeked of flatulence and body odour. It was the stink of fear.

When a man jumped up onto a bench near her, the murmur of the crowd stopped. Gaunt, unshaven, and with feral eyes, he surveyed the people below him. His edginess was infectious, running straight to Marie's shaking core. "Ladies and gentlemen…"

The woman that forced Marie back onto the platform scoffed. "Yeah, right."

When the man unbuttoned his long coat, Marie felt her stomach twinge, and it took a great effort to keep it under control. Attached to his body was something that looked like batteries and bottles connected together with wires.
 

A morbid grin spread across his gaunt face. "In case you haven't worked it out, this is a bomb."

Chapter Six

Screams and gasps broke out in the crowd and Marie trembled as she watched the crazed man.

"Oh, give me a break," he said. "You've had a good life, fuckers. Let's celebrate that so you can die with a little dignity, yeah? It's more than you've given us."

More people started crying and a voice said, "Please, let me go; I have grandchildren."
 

It was only now, with him begging for his life for the sake of his grandkids, that Marie realised the old man she'd helped off the train had been standing next to her.
 

The tension in the air thickened as the man with the bomb scratched the stubble on his face and glared at the old boy. He then jumped down and walked over to him. Without breaking stride, he drove his fist across the old man's jaw.
 

Crack!

The old man crumpled, his walking stick clattering against the concrete platform as it fell away from him. Marie watched in silence. There was no way she was speaking up for him now.
No fucking way.
 

After jumping back up onto the bench, the man stretched his neck as if banishing a crick and grinned. "Let's start again, shall we? Firstly, the next over-fed prick that feels the need to shout or cry will be killed. I haven’t got time for your bullshit today." He held up what looked like a detonator and stared at it for a moment. "This will send every one of us straight to hell. Notice I said
us
?"
 

Not a single person uttered a sound.

"We're going with you. So don't think you have a bargaining tool because you don't! We've come here ready to give our lives for the cause. You have no leverage."