Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1) (4 page)

           
“Yeah, I'll get her locked down,” Mark answered.

           
“Alright, find me when you're done. I owe you a beer,” she said pulling her goggles up to reveal her deep brown eyes.

           
“I'll take you up on that,” Mark replied, watching her leave, and maybe admiring her umm
assets.

           
Can't be blamed for hoping that a beer turns into something more, I've only got a week until Tyler and I are old enough to apply to the EMF.

           
He pushed the prisoner ahead of him; she bumped into a few walls and items on her way here and there. The red dust made a kind of carpet, even in the tower.

           
Mark finally got her into a cell, and closed the door, locking her in.

           
“You got bum shift eh?” Mark asked Lucy who was sitting at the prison's desk with her feet up on the table with a shotgun resting in her lap.

           
He pulled off his head scarf, goggles and mask, running his hand through his short hair to clear it of any dirt and grit. He had deep brown hair and green eyes. He looked older than his seventeen years, his eyes had seen more than most.

           
He was tall and had strong scars that ran through his hair where his skin had been cut open. He looked well suited to being a bar guard, though there was a spark of intelligence in his eyes.

           
Mark wasn't deadly because he was a good shot, he was deadly because he sucked up all the information he could find that might keep him alive and practiced religiously. He reacted when he needed to, but if you gave him time to think, well there was a reason no one wanted to fight him one-on-one anymore.

           
“Just looking forward to racking out, was training last night. I swear time disappears down in the pit,” she said shaking her head.

           
“Yeah, agreed,” Mark said, in the process of removing his firearms and blades, well all of them except the ones underneath his arms.

           
Lucy quirked an eyebrow at his weapons.

           
“The boss told me to question her,” Mark said, Lucy nodded in understanding, pulling out a tablet to relieve some of her boredom.

           
Mark took off his duster, it was a sign of his position and he usually only took it off when showering and sleeping. It was part of him. He laid it over his weaponry.

           
“Best get this crap over with,” he sighed turning to the cell.

           
The noise of the door opening and closing again made the Hell's own girl turn to face him, she'd been trying to get the wrapping off of her face but failed.

           
Mark turned her, his knee between her legs as she fell backwards onto it.

           
He pulled off the covering and goggles quickly, pushing her away and moving to the other side of the cell.

           
She looked like she was going to spit at him as he grabbed a bucket, using it as a seat.

           
“Do you have a name?” He asked, already getting the feeling that he wasn't going to get many answers out of this girl.

           
“I'll take that as a, 'I do but I ain't gonna tell you' So I'm going to call you icy.” As soon as those words were out he regretted it, his mind turning to Exinie who would be having a small ceremony before being processed into the growing gardens of Westerly Sector.

           
Can't change it now.

           
“Okay Icy, I want to know who authorized the hit on my boss, and why?”

           
This is going to be a long day.
More questions followed, but not a whole lot of answers.

***

           
It was sometime later when he heard someone enter the corridor filled with cells.

           
“Mark?”

           
“In here Tyler. What are you doing down here?” Mark asked as he made his way down the cells, his eyes never leaving Icy.

           
“Thought I might as well get you some damned food, even though it's our last week out here. I don't think the Earth's Military Forces are going to want you half-starved on their doorstep,” Tyler said, coming to the cells door. Mark noticed that Icy looked away, sudden nervousness making her look at the floor.

           
Interesting.

           
Mark let Tyler in, seeing that he had three meals.

           
Tyler set the food down on the bed sitting next to it and leaning against the cells wall. He grabbed the noodles and soup combination, nodding to the girl and digging into his food with the chopsticks he had.

           
He looked to Mark with a questioning glance.

           
Mark rolled his eyes and shook his head in the negative.

           
“Well she is pretty,” Tyler said with a mouthful of noodles.

           
Mark scoffed a smile coming to his face as his brother grinned.

           
“So is the boss back yet?” Mark asked, leaning against the wall himself.

           
“Nope, he continued on his adventure, he seems to have taken a walk into Hell's own country,” Tyler slurped in the noodles on his chopsticks. “I swear that man has balls of steel.”

           
Icy was looking even more unhappy with Tyler's announcement. W3C's boss didn't idly walk into another gang’s territory without a meaning behind it.

           
Looks like the Hell's own better watch out, the W3C is coming in.
Mark thought with the cold thoughts of a gang teenager that had seen more than a few gang wars.

           
Icy took a seat against the cells bars, Mark watched her like a hawk, Tyler sending sideways glances at her.

           
“Something up?” Mark asked sensing something in the air.

           
“I was going to join the EMF in a few days, well I will be if you don't kill me.”
Or worse
she left the last part unsaid, but her eyes said all.

           
“When's your sign-up date?” Mark asked, hoping to get something else out of her.

           
“In three days.” She said.

           
“Same damned week as us, what's the chances,” Tyler snorted as he finished off his food.

           
“A hundred percent apparently,” Mark said.

           
“You're sign up date is this week too?” Icy asked, looking at the two of them with renewed interest.

Probably trying to figure out if we’re lying or not.
Mark thought.

           
“Well his was a week ago, but being my big bro he's got a soft spot for me,” Tyler grinned at Mark who was not happy to be sharing his history with a girl that had tried to kill them this morning.

           
Their sign up date was when they turned eighteen, as long as they were healthy then the EMF would probably hire them and start their training.

           
If the boss lets her out of here, then we could be in the same training cycle.
Mark thought as Tyler handed him his food.

            After a while it became clear that Icy didn’t want to talk to Mark but Tyler was making some progress. Mark made some excuses, grabbing his weapons from lock-up and heading up to the compounds bar.

            It wasn’t anything special, bar to the left, booths to the right, dancing area in the back, with a stage, speakers dotting the place and W3C patches all over the place. Talking, dancing, and drinking.

            It didn’t take him long to find Oli at the bar getting a good buzz on.

            Mark’s paternal instincts took over in making sure the boy had a good time, but not too much to drink that he found himself in the toilet.

It was subtle things and gestures, but being in a gang Mark had been drunk quite a bit, he knew how to handle other drinkers.

Oli calmed down a bit and found Mark some time later sitting at a table, drinking a beer and taking the edge off.

“Hey Oli,” Mark said, making it clear Oli was fine to take a seat and talk.

“Hey Mark,” Oli said, taking a seat, the bar was filling up as the day wound down.

Oli sat down and looked at his drink, Mark looked away, knowing only too well the pain of losing friends. As much as Mark tried to keep people at bay, they always seemed to crawl in, just like Oli had.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Mark said, looking at the people dancing without seeing them. Oli’s head came up, listening.

“Shit is going to happen, that’s the way life is. Down here in the slums, it just happens more. At least in Westerly Three you’ve got people to watch your back. In this business people die more often than not. It’s something you’re going to have to get used to. We’re not immortal and death comes for all of us. Training, will keep you alive, train whenever you can. In the end you can only trust in yourself. Others will come and go, but you and the voice in your head, that’s the only thing you can rely on. Mourn those that pass on, but remember their loss. They died and you lived, their sacrifice led to your life, don’t be sad for that,” Mark looked to Oli, their eyes meeting.

“Life is too short to regret, people die, we all do at some point, the best we can do is live this life to the limit. The world won’t give you anything, you have to take it, rising on the shoulders of those that didn’t make it,” Mark said, his voice soft but powerful as he saw the teenager nod slowly, his eyes travelling back down to his beer.

Mark picked up his glass, holding it towards Oli, the younger man tapped it, and Mark hit the table.

“To the fallen,” Mark said, raising his glass and taking a swig.

Oli stayed at the table watching the bar and getting his thoughts together. Mark got another beer and looked over the bar, nostalgia washing through him, soon this would just be a memory. The EMF would take over his life.

           
Dimi made her way over to the table.

           
“Hello boys,” she said, looking to Mark and smiling.

“This seat taken?” She asked playfully, sipping her beer and pointing to Mark’s knee.

“All good for you,” Mark joked, brushing his leg as if he was cleaning it.

“Good!” She said, sitting on it, getting a laugh from Mark and a smile from Oli.

Dimi had been doing this job for a long time, she knew how it was losing your first friends.

Mark and Dimi flirted, but their focus was on getting Oli out of his funk.

Dimi even got Mark up and dancing just to get Oli laughing at Mark’s ridiculous moves. The evening spun into a less serious mood and Oli found a cute brunette from the dance floor.

Dimi and Mark left Oli as his conversation with the brunette turned into breathless making out.

“You need a place to stay tonight? Got my room to myself,” Mark said to Dimi as they walked out.

“Are you asking me to stay the night?” She said, faking a shocked tone.

“Well if you’re really nice I’ll let you have the floor,” Mark grinned.

Dimi gave him a playful hit.

“Maybe I’ll drag you down there,” she said equally playful.

“I might like that,” Mark said, pulling her to him and kissing her, pulling away by biting her lower lip.

Her eyes fluttered open.

“Oh, I forgot how good you were at kissing,” she said, her voice husky.

“Man of
many
talents,” Mark smiled, tapping her butt with one hand.

He grabbed her hand and started walking, she didn’t try to stop him and followed. A few catcalls, wolf whistles and scattered applause followed them as well.

***

           
A week to go.
Mark thought as Dimi lay on his bed with him, a thin sheet covering their naked bodies. He could feel her toned muscles against his own. Usually it was enough to keep him awake for different reasons.

           
Now nostalgia kept him awake.

           
Mark looked over Dimi, she had joined Westerly Three Complex Crew around the same time as him.

           
Mark and Tyler had waited a week before taking Quentin up on his offer.

           
They’d arrived and been told that if they wanted to be part of the Westerly Three Crew, they needed to go through what Quentin called selection.

           
This selection would give them training to fight with their hands, blades, and weapons.