Molly - Part 1

Chapter 31

Turge pushed over the body.

"Dead for a while," Dak snapped. "All burnt out. No good."

Turge leaned over and poked the body with the butt of his pistol, risking potential injury or worse for Turge but he was curious and stupid enough not to care; wasn't like he thought this life was worth living anyways.

"Why are you wasting your fucking time?" poor Dak groaned, shifting his right shoulderblade. "Fuck."

It used to be a college, Dak had told him. A place of safety and peace, all mired now by the surge.

"Can't believe there was only one good body." Dak spit on the ground. "Fuck."

"Dak, you're being obnoxious. Help me lift him; I think he has something fused to his leg."

"Why the hell does that matter?"

"Come on."

Dak huffed, riling around in his pockets and then pulling out a silver pack of cigarettes, lighting one and cupping it beneath his mask, the elastic stretching from the effort. He somehow kept the thing lit as he came over and helped Turge lift the body, all torn up thanks to the bombs.

"Oh Jesus," Dak said, shuffling away a little.

Turge hadn't been too far off: Whatever had killed these people had done so with the sort of efficiency usually reserved for the army.

"Look at the mark," Turg said, pointing at the silver running down the leg. "Must have just wiped them out. Looks electric."

"Looks like it's still on," Dak said, then took a few more steps back.

"Dumbass," Turge muttered, taking the kid's leg and tapping the device, eventually leaning into it, using enough force that if he just kept at it--

The glass shattered. Turge leapt up.

"Jesus, fuck."

The kid's leg was smeared across the pavement. It was enough to make even Turge queasy, who'd seen his fair share of dead bodies.

"No," Dak said, tossing his cigarette and motioning for the others. "I'm not hanging out with fucking military tech. No. No."

Turge called out for him, but Dak was gone, and even Turge was coming around to the idea that maybe this wasn't the safest place to be.

Velan was there, telling the others where they should be. When Turge came up, she took him and forced him against a dust-strewn brick wall.

"Stop fucking around with random-ass tech," she snapped. "Christ."

"Let go of me."

Velan obeyed, spitting on the ground, revealing white lips and white skin.

"Something's wrong," she said, quickly moving past her anger.

Turge's vision swayed.

"What the hell is wrong with me?"

"I'm telling you," Velan said, nearly shouting, "it's the smoke--"

"I need to sit."

Turge was suddenly sick of all of it; he was sick of the others and if there was anything that he wanted it was to be alone.

So, he left. He was tired of their voices and he was tired of their games.

Wires, wires everywhere. Must have been a processing plant once. Turge thought he heard someone shout his voice, but it could have easily been the wind.