𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋//𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘𝐗𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Brenda lived on da streeeeets 🐈😡😤🤬😖😠👿😾

"Jeez, your filthy." Brenda remarked, using a stray bit of wet cloth she had on her to clean my face. Once we'd made it down to civilization she had decided that I needed to be scrubbed off.

She said that the other people on the street would think I was wounded and therefore make me an target for robbing, attacking, and God knows what else.

Apparently even healthy humans had lost their inhibitions. Some were even as bad as the cranks. This is when Brenda decided to open up to Thomas and I, recounting her early life with Jorge.

"I grew up on the streets, I know how it works. The things I've seen would make you sick to your stomach." She splashed a little more water from her canteen on the rag, working away the dirt on my arms. "I don't what you guys were doing in that sheltered little life Wicked gave you but-"

"We've seen plenty." Thomas cut her off coldly, washing his own dirt away. "Trust me. We might not have been thieves in the street but we've been through hell and back."

"Preach." I joked, pulling down my smirk when neither party found it funny. "But yeah we've seen some pretty fucked up shit."

"Have you ever seen people eat a person?" Brenda's warmth was gone, all that remained was the biting feeling old memories brought. "And they weren't even cranks. They were just fucking cannibals. The world's gone to shit, the only way you can make any real money these days is by working for Wicked. The alternative is stealing, scavenging, whoring, and whatever the fuck else you have to do."

She wrung out the rag, stuffing it back in her pack. To replace the rag she pulled out her spool of bandages. Cringing as she did so, she peeled up her left pant leg, revealing three huge nasty gashes dug into her skin. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. The crank had gotten her.

"Brenda..." As much as I wanted to tell her everything was going to be alright I knew that I'd be lying and Brenda didn't seem to be gone kind of person who liked lies. Even the lies that gave people comfort.

"Shit." She hissed, getting over her panic quickly in order to tie the wounds up.

"Brenda." Thomas looked down on her warily, chewing his lips to release his anxiety.

"Yeah yeah." Tugging her pant leg back down, she slung her back pack over her shoulder, keeping us moving. "Come on." She led us out of the bony alleyway, a firm hold on my arm. "You guys stay close, you'll be safe."

"No wandering Thomas." I grabbed on the boy's sleeve, pulling him along with us. We entered the makeshift neighborhood with cardboard houses, never leaving each other's side.

"Don't talk to anyone, don't look at anyone, and don't look like a pussy. Pussies get robbed. Just try to blend in." Brenda ordered, her stance becoming strong and sturdy to scare off anyone with sticky fingers.

As we passed the street people, I broke Brenda's rule. I looked. Not at them, just relatively around them. Sort of.

On our way there was a group of people huddled around a grill cooking meat. Only it couldn't have been normal meat. If the economy was only serving the rich like Brenda had said, there was no way homeless people could afford real meat.

I was correct. Upon a second glance the meat was shaped like rats, small birds, a woman among them was even starting the process of butchering up a raccoon. At least they weren't eating people. At least not yet.

A girl passed us by in the street. She couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen at the sight of her. She was about the same age as Chuck, holding onto her swollen stomach tight and protective. Pregnant. A baby having a baby.

A mother and son shuffled by us next. Another young mother. We locked eyes, only for a moment. Her beaten down grey ones looking exhausted yesterday at mine. This girl was my age. Her boy looked about four. I tightened my grasp on Thomas's hand. Maybe Brenda was right.

______________________

The building we stopped in front of loomed over us, a tattered, washed out red banner rippled from an outer banister.

Zone A

The structure had to have been some extravagant old hotel with it's artistic outside patios connecting from every room. Now it was a party till you die mansion, it's walls pounding with catchy music. Women, scantily clad leaned against it's outer edges, leering at any men they could find. One girl smirked at Thomas, batting her eyes.

"You looking for a good time?" She offered, cigarette between her lips. As sexual as it should've been, her lines sounded rehearsed. To her this was nothing more than a business proposition.

"Come on Thomas." Giving him one great tug he moved along with us, more baffled than interested in the lady. We weaved along through more people who seemed out of it. It was as though their mind had been numbed to a barely functional daze.

The party noise drew nearer, we were so close to the entrance when a woman asked us a question, coming up from behind.

"You here for the party?" She sauntered up, swishing her hips back and forth as she licked her lips. I had to admit she was quite beautiful, at least in the dirty grungy way.

She was blonde with bangs shrouding her face, smoky makeup lining her eyes. Old as bones jewelry dripped off her neck. Pearls, pendants, and shiny necklaces glitzing her up.

"Uh no." Brenda answered for us, her grip squeezing my arm fast. "We're looking for Marcus. This is his place isn't it?"

"This is my place." A man called from up ahead, bringing a frothy drink to his lips. My friendliness took over, along with my quick mouth.

"This is your casa? Nice chandelier man. Looks vintage and shit." I pointed above, throwing everyone's attention up to the luxurious chandelier attached to the high ceiling.

The tall blonde woman lingered her touch on Thomas and I, pushing the both of us forward to the scroungy man. He was well dressed like the woman, although his face was sort of unpleasant to look at.

"Are you Marcus?" Tentatively, Thomas inched himself forward, cautiously keeping a tight hold on me.

"Marcus doesn't live here anymore." The inebriated raggedy dude answered, fiddling with a few fat rings place on his fingers. A meerkat grin shot up his face before snapping back again.

"Do you know where you could find him?" Brenda laced her hand into my free one, stepping forward to shield me away.

"Sure, sure." Said the man loftily, clothes looking garish on him. "He's over in Zone B."

"What's zone B?" Thomas queried, the blonde lady gliding her hands across his back in a sensuous manner. He shrugged her off, too focused for anything like that.

"It's where they burn the bodies." The woman said close to Thomas's ear, a smirk carved out on her face. She joined the bougie man with the  unwashed velvet suit, he wore a similar expression on his own face.

"Okay, look, has anyone else been by here looking for him?" Demanding answers now, Thomas stepped closer to the man. "Group of kids around our age? They had a girl with them, dark hair."

He was thinking of Teresa. Why was he always thinking of Teresa? Then again I suppose old habits die hard. The attraction to her was probably comfortable for him. He was used to it.

"You know...I think they might be inside. Here." The leering man dug into the inside of his suit, pulling out a clear, glass, flask. After unscrewing it's cap he offered it up to us. Except it wasn't an offer. It was more of a demand. "Drink this."