Cleo's Game

25. First Job

12 years ago...

Even from a very young age, Drew and Cleo were very different from other children.

The landscape of Exdritch was very different when the war had first broken out a year prior. Nowadays, everyone is aligned with something, at the very least. Either on one side of the war, or part of the elusive groups that dare to rebel against it. Back then, once the wealthy and desperate had escaped the island, many of whom that remained turned to a life of banditry and violence. You couldn't trust a single person you saw.

This arrangement was alright for the average man, but it created a nightmare of a world for those two children that remained. The little sister who couldn't understand the full scope of the situation, and the older brother that had no choice but to be strong.

After watching their parents sail away at the north tip of the island, the only direction to go was back down south. Back to what was familiar, home. Even roads that had been walked before felt unfamiliar, because they now really were. The journey was aimless; when they got back home, what would they do?

Not a single word was spoken, and not an audible breath could be heard. Their problems had gotten more serious than whether a walk was tiring or not. After the many hours of a trekking, they found out what they would do. Their family's farm was abandoned. It shouldn't have any inhabitants, but it did. And they froze.

Ahead stood a tall, dirty, bearded man wearing a long coat. He held a brown sack, filled with something, while leaving the dilapidated farmhouse they were familiar with. Behind him followed some similarly unkept men, showing that there was a group effort to raid what they thought to be an abandoned farm. It didn't take them long at all to spot the two kids.

"Look what we have here." he laughed. "Empty your pockets, kids." Hearing this, Drew stood in front of his sister as if it was second nature to him. His eyes were screwed shut as he heard footsteps creep closer. "Oh, whatever. I'll just do it myself." Today, neither Drew nor Cleo can clearly recall what happened afterwards.

A protective layer of solid earth, that was as hard as steel, rose from the ground and encased the two of them. Drew trembled and held back tears as it felt like an overwhelming presence was washing over him. The ground started to tremble in unison with him. It grew more violently and louder. A man could be barely heard shouting "Never mind them, let's just get the fuck out of here!" while the vibrations of the ground muffled it.

It continued for several minutes, until halting to an eerie silence. The protective shield dropped, no longer needed, and Drew pried his eyes open. The ground was cleanly cut in two, with cracks spidering off on the sides. Everything was gone. The men, the farmhouse, and everything else in view, all swallowed up by the earth. He looked at what he did, and was unable to shed a tear. The last tear that Drew would shed in his life had already been shed, it seems.

The farm was decimated, as was the land that it was built on. Drew felt the seismic destructive power he possessed in his bones. It certainly wasn't the last time that he would use it. Throughout their formative years, Drew and Cleo traveled the torn up remains of the north. With two mouths to feed, he wasn't afraid to use his newfound power aggressively. The criminal gangs that fell victim to him had no idea what was coming before the ground swallowed them up.

The moment that changed life for the two of them came much later. Drew grew to the age of thirteen and Cleo ten; his bounty poster described a prolific bandit known as 'Chasm' who had no face to his name. A man whose very existence is known by the deep abysses that he leaves behind, and the pained cry of the earth bending to his will. He's a man who could accidentally destroy the planet. His bounty seemed to just be a decoration piece; even the toughest and largest criminal collectives never even thought about it.

The two of them were sitting at a tavern. It was a warm place to sleep, and a good place to disappear into the crowd. They couldn't help but overhear a conversation at the bar in front of them. "You've got to be crazy, man. You don't fuck with those 'army' guys, they're psychos," one man said to the other. "It's completely free. I doubt they'll have anyone guarding it," another responded. "Well, I know I'm not taking that risk, that's for sure," a third chimed in. "Maybe Chasm would do it."

That sentence brought laughter to others around the tavern. "You're going to hire Chasm? That guy who has put every single one of his eyewitnesses into the crust of the earth? The one without a face or a name? Good luck with that." The man continued to argue his case, but the only one who seemed to be taking it seriously was Drew, who was listening from the back. "Cleo, could you write something for me?" he asked, and she nodded in response.

Later that night, all the men either had left the tavern or went to their rooms, and Drew had made a note of which room that man from earlier was staying in. In the dead of night, Drew had slipped a note underneath the door. He made sure it was all the way through, before banging hard on the door and running away. The note was filled with instructions, asking the man to detail the job and payment on the back of the letter, and storing it in an empty bottle beside the tavern. It was obvious that many would be watching the letter to see who would take it, to see who Chasm was; therefore Chasm had to specify in the note that he was sending his son to collect it.

The next morning, it was clear that the message had been received. "Drew, we're about to take that letter around all those people, what if something happens?" Cleo asked, worrying. "Mess with Chasm's kid? I doubt it. Besides, if I don't see a note in a bottle then it ends there. They would at least have to follow along that far. Don't worry sis, I've got this all figured out," "I just hope you know what you're doing."

The atmosphere was tense outside the tavern. The air felt motionless and dry, and the sun was pale and weak through the white sheet of clouds that blanketed the sky. Drew's eyes were locked on the bottle, refusing to make contact with anyone else. He smashed it against the ground in a swift motion before retrieving the message and scanning the back of the note.

The handwriting looked as if it was traced carefully. The job was simple; there was a stockpile of equipment in a nearby quarry. Weapons and basic electronic equipment, all with an interested buyer. It's been lying around for months in an area with no presence at all. The only thing that is guarding it from thieves is the reputation. The criminals that decided they were a step up from a gang, or a crime syndicate, but instead an army. Little was known about these people, but they have the reputation of Chasm hundredfold.

"Interesting..."