Dystopia Rising

Chapter 4: Bloody Waters

"Careful," I warn, trying not to cringe as I pick up a mangled body part. "These parts have been chewed by Raiders, so their saliva's all over it. Don't want to get infected."

"I know. I know," Eight-ball says as he rolls his eyes. "That's why we've got the gloves. Can't believe Bridge sent us out to do this, especially after we just killed those Raiders."

Bridge told us to go back to the Raider camp, where the bodies of the people that were ambushed by said Raiders lay. She gave us orders to fill up a bag with as many body parts as we could, although she didn't exactly tell us why. I know she's devising some type of plan, and we left that stranger with her before we left. I think he's getting treatment now, since even if he is our enemy, Bad Brain Disease isn't something we want spreading.

He can't spread it until that shift in the stage from human to Raider, which is one of the final stages, but that can happen quickly, and the last thing we need is an outbreak. And while he would come back human again, we'd have to make sure he had enough resolve to come back. And purposely putting someone through Mortis Amaranthine is worse than torture. It's just plain cruel.

We may be mercenaries, but we're not monsters.

"Human body parts sink fast into the ground, even when they're not going to be coming back through Mortis Amaranthine. I know they don't sink as fast as Raiders do, but we can't exactly waste too much time. They'd be gone within twenty-four hours."

He huffs. "Yeah, yeah." A small smile twitches across his face. "Good thing is we get first dibs on any of the clothing the Raiders took from the people they ambushed."

"After we bag the parts," I remind him, and he frowns at me.

"Since when have you been all for the work first?"

"Since I had to worry about getting some of these bits which are decaying quickly. If they sink, we can't dig them up. Whatever consciousness that might be left within these bodies will feel it, I think. Going through Mortis Amaranthine without being able to come back is already jarring enough. Pulling it out like this could be even worse to whatever consciousness is left."

Eight quirks a brow at me. "You know this from experience?"

I shake my head. "No, but I've heard stories. If it's as scary as I've heard it to be, I wouldn't wish this on anyone, even the people who tried to take away our payday."

"You're a saint, Princess, and a lot nicer than I am," He says, and I giggle.

"And you're a lot more dramatic than I am."

"Me? Never."

I giggle again, but it fades as I change the subject. "What do you think Del Phia is like?"

Eight stops for a moment. "Not sure. I've been there, yeah, but it's always been a straight shot through."

"Oh. I wonder what other communities and towns there will be. 'S been a while since we've went through a town. Like, what, a month?"

"I lost track a while ago," He states honestly. "Wasn't much in the last town that caught my attention."

I laugh. "Maybe, but if I remember correctly, you caught a lot of attention from the people there. And surprisingly, it was mostly good attention."

"You're hilarious, truly. And if I remember correctly, I got a lot of good attention because I was funny and I'm good looking. The only attention you got was when you fell out of a window and nearly gave the entire crew a heart attack."

"You included?"

"Me included."

"Well, just so you know, I didn't just fall. I was pushed," I correct, and Eight-ball snaps his head towards me so quickly I think he might get whiplash.