[Junk XIII] What's For Dinner? (S 2-8)

Rich

Stitch,

Consciousness returns slowly.

The first thing you note is sound. The sound of a crackling fire. Light conversation between strangers, barely audible. It sounds relaxing.

Smells. Burning wood, of course. Gas and oil, both warm but cooling. Human sweat, and not too far off, some kind of latrine maybe.

Then feeling. You're lying on your side on cold ground. It's night. You've drooled a tiny mud puddle in the soft earth. You aren't bound, but there's someone nearby, sharpening a knife. You recognize the sound of a blade on a whetstone. Why do you know that sound so well, Stitch?

When you open your eyes just enough to see who it is, you see this guy in the firelight, sharpening a long skinning knife.


The conversation picks up a bit, or maybe you're able to tune it in?

A woman's voice, "..don't frakking care, Chive, I'm frakkin starving. Carve the bitch up and let's get to it!"
This is the woman talking:

She's pacing back and forth on the other side of the fire, ranting, obviously upset. Rail thin, clothed in black. She wasn't part of the raiding party. She seems young.

A male voice answers, "You saw her kit, JB. Don't be stupid. She's more important than a snack." He's talking calm, relaxed, like a stone cold killer. His name is, you guessed it, it's Ronnie.

Ronnie turns to talk to someone further away, out of your sight, "Frosty, any of those narcos still good?"

You hear a voice answer that warbles like teeth are missing, "Yeff, Ronnie. Lotf of goo ftuff here. Fome ftuff I never faw before."

The guy sharpening his knife, he's stopped. You just realized he's stopped and you don't know why.

What do you do?

Genevieve

When I was a kid my dad liked to carve- though I always joked that he liked to sharpen that damn knife more than the carving itself.

I lay as still as I can- can't do much about the trembling. I close my eyes, though I can still see them all in my head. Tears fall from my eyes. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

I signed up for the program to get away from Ethan. I was supposed to go to a new colony and set up a clinic. Have a life.

Of course, when you've been beaten to near death by the man you love, you learn to live with fear. You numb it out. Even when he was happy, I didn't trust it. Every day I tried to understand why he'd hurt me, then tell me he loved me. I realize now that maybe I died back then. The real me left- and who could blame her. So I got a few weeks on this strange planet with two moons, that's more than I deserved, surely. I wasn't brave enough to stand up to Ethan. I'm a coward.

I wait. No sense in provoking them. I know how this dance works.

Rich

You hear some footsteps, then the stone cold voice, "Cobb, wake her up. Gently."

The guy who was knife sharpening says in a surprisingly light voice, "Sure thing, Ronnie. Sure thing." A few seconds later, he takes two quick steps and kicks you in the stomach. Your scarred stomach.

Ronnie huffs once, "That... wasn't exactly gently." He comes over to squat down near your face, Stitch. "What's your name, lady?"

Genevieve

I gasp at the kick and curl up around my midsection.

"Stitch." I reply weakly. I'm not dumb- if they need a doc bad enough they'll keep me alive... Until one of 'em gets hungry.

Rich

He's down close. His breath smells like rotten meat. He has gingivitis something fierce, probably burns all the time. "Hey Stitch... where did you get that sweet bag of meds? And the chocolates, too?"

Genevieve

"Chocolate came from Trench. Meds came from Boomtown clinic. I'm a doctor." I reply, not looking him in the eye.

I hope they fucking choke on that candy.

Rich

Ronnie looks up, over his shoulder, "I told you, JB! She's a frakkin doctor! From Boomtown!" There' some laughter, but it isn't pleasant.

"Here's the deal, Stitch." Ronnie says cold. "You're gonna set up a little free clinic, right here. Some of my people are sick, some have wounds that never healed right. You're gonna fix them all up. And when you're done, we're gonna take your meds and chocolate, and one of mine will drive you near Salt... and let you go."

He smiles a nasty grin, "Sound fair and square, Stitch?"

Behind him, JB screams, "Say no, BITCH! I want to cook your fucking HEART!"

What do you do?

Genevieve

Why would they let me go? More like they get me to work and then they kill me. Not like I have much choice, though.

I nod. "Yes."

Rich

Ronnie looks up, he's done with talking. "Cobb, get Stitch up, take her around. Free clinic. Keep her working until she's seen everyone who's hurt. Chive's teeth, your damn rash, Chilli's fingers... oh, and Frosty's baby, too."

Cobb, the knife sharpener, laughs, "Her baby? She gonna tell Frosty it's dead?

"Maybe she'll believe a doc, yeah?" Ronnie quips.

So here's the deal, Stitch. Cobb's gonna be on you, taking you around this gang of twenty-five hard-hearted maniacs, getting them healed up so they can butcher more folks.

Let's see you Act Under Fire to keep it together during this all-nighter. On a hit, you might see a way out of here. On a miss, you really do have to break it to Frosty.

You don't want to tell Frosty her baby is dead.

Genevieve

OOC: act under fire. Roll+sharp.
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 4, 4. Total: 10)

Rich

So Stitch, it's about six in the morning. Or it feels like it. The day's are odd here, and two moons throws off your rhythm. Most of the Wendys are sleeping, but Ronnie posted a couple guards. And there's Cobb.

You've finished up your free clinic just now. You used up one stock on some of these bastards. Mark it off.

Cobb asks you, talking low, "You want to sleep now? Or mess around?" It's odd, isn't it? Him asking for sex.

What do you do?

Genevieve

I shake my head no. I want to sleep more than anything, but who knows what they'd do. And the thought of Cobb... If I had anything in my stomach I'd be sick.

I didn't make eye contact with them, didn't talk much. Just stitched up holes and gave out pills. Told em how to clean out wounds. Pretended I was doctoring regular folk.

My hands started to shake at some point. I sit on them to stop the trembling. I stare at my feet.

Rich

What was the worst injury that you fixed up tonight, Stitch?

Genevieve

Some woman had got cut in the eye- it'd punctured the eyeball and gotten all infected. I had to clean it all out and sew the hole shut. It might have been the most pus I've ever seen in my whole life.

Mostly it was digging out bullets- some of which had been there a long time.

Rich

Cobb waits for a bit. Then he asks, "Stitch... you sayin no to the sleep? Or to me?" His tone wasn't threatening. Not exactly.

The place where you are. Where these Wendys took you, it's the middle of some kind of rock formation. The craggy peak reaches up fifty meters maybe. Like some little maze on a kid's menu. They've got their bikes and trucks parked under an outcropping, and they sleep in bags or under blankets under the stars, with a few fires going. It's tribal, and most of these gangers are male.

You worked a psych ward before, right? Reminds you of that, this disquiet calm, of twenty different wavelengths, all these Wendys are one kind of crazy or another. And they get along, just. Just barely.

Ronnie runs the show, and only that girl JB gives him lip. Smiley-Face Chive is his thug in charge. You had to sew up the rusty nail wounds in his arm, the ones you gave him. I assume you didn't recommend tetanus shots, did you?

That girl, the one VB shot and killed at Ollie's, the mohawk girl? That was Cobb's sister, name was PretzelPub.

What do you do?

Genevieve

I tried to say no to Ethan, once. He'd punched me, but it was before the real shit went down. It was so odd because one minute his face was twisted with rage and the next minute he was on me, taking my clothes off. I tried to stop him, but he was stronger than me. After that first time, I rationalized it- he was just angry. I hadn't said no. It was my fault.

Later- I realized he'd raped me. Maybe that was why I entered the program.

"No to both." I say, barely above a whisper. I'm not entirely sure what gave me the courage to say it. They'd do whatever they were going to do to me, what I said didn't matter to them. At least this way I'd said no.

Of course I don't say one word about tetanus shots. I saw a case of it once- nasty business. It almost makes me smile, the thought of Chive writing in pain. It probably won't kill him, anyway.

Rich

Cobb looks at you for a long moment. "Well, then. Guess you're all done here, then, Stitch." He takes your arm, starts marching you back into the camp.

What do you do?

Genevieve

I go with him, resisting the urge to try and tear my arm out of his grip.

Rich

Cobb walks you near the dyling fire. You find Ronnie lying on his side under some old, stained quilts. JB is sleeping under his arm. Cobb lets go of your arm to stoop down to wake Ronnie. He sort of pokes Ronnie gently a couple times. Seems Ronnie is a heavy sleeper.

For this moment, this brilliant moment, not one single Wendy is paying attention to you, Stitch. You could try to run, right now. Maybe you could grab a bike. Or a gun. Or just run. You could maybe outrun Cobb.

Maybe.

What do you do?

Genevieve

I look around, assessing my options.

OOC: Read a sitch incoming.

Genevieve

OOC: Read a sitch. Roll+sharp.
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 2, 2. Total: 6)

Rich

As you're slyly looking around, Ronnie coughs, then shifts, opens his eyes. He sees Cobb, then looks past him to you.

While Ronnie smacks his lips and slowly sits up, stretching his arms, popping his back, Cobb says, "The doc is done, fixed everyone up. She was no trouble."

Ronnie blinks his eyes a couple times, rubs the back of his neck, "You frak her?"

Cobb huffs a laugh through his nose, shakes his head, "Nope. She declined"

Ronnie chuckles a raspy laugh, "Well... did she now? Guess you aren't such a chicken-hearted thing after all." Ronnie puts a hand on the ground, pushes himself up. He's what, about a ahead taller than you? Yeah, about. He looks down at you, Stitch, in close, bad breath and all. Puts a hand on your shoulder, "So here's the deal, Stitch. I gave you my word, that if you doctored up my people, I'd let you go. And I'm good on my word. You want to go, then I'll wake up JB, and she'll take you near Salt, and let you go."

Cobb furrows his brows in a bit of confusion, looks to Ronnie, then you, then back.

Ronnie asks, smirking, "Is that what you want, Stitch?"

Genevieve

That look on Cobb's face, Ronnie's smirk. The hope I didn't realize I'd been holding onto evaporates. They're going to kill me and dump my body near Salt- good to their word.

I nod, still not looking Ronnie in the eyes, keeping as still as I can. "Yes."

Rich

Ronnie squeezes your shoulder and smiles a predatory smile, "You know, Stitch, I know you heard JB last night. How she wants to kill and eat you, right? Well, she's not the only one hungry. I'm sure you saw how we're all a bit thin, hunh?"

"Chances are, Stitch. That JB'll take you closer to Salt, let you go... then shoot you in the back of the head. Then she'll field dress you, and bring back your meat and we'll al cook it up. I know, it's awful. JB following the letter of the law, not the spirit it was intended, and all that, I hate it. But she sucks a mean dick, and you've got to respect that, you know?" He laughs, Cobb laughs. I don't think you do, do you?

"I've got an alternative, though. A ray of hope, so to speak." Ronnie continues, "There's this brain frakker up north, put the word out for a good doc. He'd trade lots of meat for you. But you'd have to ride with us. Which means, you've got to ride as one of us, since we aint no frakkin taxi cab service, you know?"

Cobb scoffs, "You're gonna paint her up, Ronnie?"

Ronnie quips, "She'd paint herself up, and I wouldn't stop her. So, Stitch, what do you think about door number two?"

Genevieve

No, of course I don't laugh. I feel my knees go a bit weak, but I lock them so I don't fall over.

"You mean Brannigans?" I ask, my voice cracking and weak.

I'd heard enough about the Ascendant to know I was probably better off dead. If Brannigans messed up people half as bad as they said I wouldn't even be me anymore. Sure, I'd be helping folk- in other circumstances that'd be enough for me- but I won't give up my own self to do that.

I shake my head no, unable to speak. Sink down to my knees in the dirt. Tears spill over. I start shaking uncontrollably.

Rich

"Yeah, Branigans." Ronnie answers.

Then you break down, and that kills the conversation. Ronnie and Cobb, they stand over you, not talking. They don't offer comfort, but oddly enough, they don't take pleasure in your tears, either.

After an uncomfortable silence, Ronnie says, "I figured you'd stretch it out over a few days, the free clinic. Youre a victim of your own hard work, Stitch." He squats down to get eye level with you, says, "Get a few hours sleep. You'll need all your energy to run when JB lets you loose. I mean, she's a drek shot. You might make it back. And just think... of all the stories you'll have to tell. Think of how glad you'll be, just bein alive." Then he crawls back under the furs with JB, starts groping at her, waking her up for sex.

Cobb sits down on a nearby rock, obviously tired, but he's going to try and wait this out.

What do you do?

Genevieve

I lay down, facing away from Ronnie. I want to crawl away, so I can't hear them, but I've got nothing left. I weep.

I curl up and think of my little girl- the one I never got to meet. Maybe I'll meet her tomorrow.

I sleep- pulled under it's dark depths by sheer exhaustion.

Rich

The blissful oblivion of sleep comes amidst the smells and sounds of the Wendys camp.

What do you think your littl girl grew up to look like, Stitch?

You're pushing her in a swing, and with each push, she ages, from girl, to tween, to teen, to young woman, to adult, to middle-age. Then she becomes your grand-daughter, and the aging of the pushes continues. Each ancestor like you, but slightly different. Each generation spawned from you, each daughter has your eyes, your chin, your heart.

You're kicked awake again. JB screeches, "Get up, snack size. We're going for a ride!" The Wendys are up, milling about. Some are working on bikes, some are cleaning weapons, a pair is frakking. You hear a woman singing softly to a baby. There are no baby sounds, though.

What do you do?

Genevieve

She looks like me, but different- darker hair and she has baby fat. No hint of Ethan in her at all. She giggles and my heart properly melts. I never thought I could be this happy. Her and me, together. Peace.

I cough as I'm kicked awake. My heart aches for the dream and then I remember that I'll see her again soon. It's so odd- I never believed in an afterlife until today- but it gives me peace. It may not be true, but at this point it's all I've got.

I get up and follow JB silently.

Rich

None of the Wendys give you a goodbye, of course. JB pushes you ahead until you reach the bikes. She heads over to a green one with doll's heads strung around the backrest. She points to the back, "Sit in the back. I'm gonna tie you down. No sense in your falling off, and I'm not having your skanky hands rubbing on me, Snack Size."

She uses leather straps to tie each hand down, leaving you sitting on the back of the long, brown seat. It was nice once, now its a cracked and ruined excuse for cushion. JB, aka Junior Bacon, mounts her bike and rides off.

Go here.