Junkertown Crisis

Chapter One

“I can’t stay.”

Mako stares at the fire, mask gripped tight in the fist of his left hand. Hurts him to say that. I can tell.

“No worries, mate.” I shrug. “We all gotta move on someday.” But my throat's tight, like I’m breathing in gunsmoke.

“We’re starving,” Mako says. His voice rumbles round the alley. “I need work.”

“I get it. Can’t cart around the cripple all day, can we?” I shrug again, but even that feels fake. “Look, mate, I ain’t stopping ya.”

Mako smiles and his scar stretches across his face. “Pitiful,” he growls. Fondly. My eyes sting. This place's too full of smoke.

“Well I’m gonna miss you,” I tell him.

Mako heaves a sigh and I pull away instinctively. Ooh, I’m in trouble now. He crosses over and sits down in front of me, kicking up a cloud of grime. I try not to cough.

“Jamison,” he says, and my stomach twists. Whooo, here it comes. “You are going to die.”

“Everyone dies, mate,” I say. I wonder if he hears the quiver in my voice.

“Half your leg is gone,” he says. “Half your arm is gone. Skinny, shell-shocked, cripple. You’ll die sooner than the rest.”

I gulp at the lump in my throat. This is more than Mako's ever said to me. For once, Jamie don’t know how to respond.

“That’s why you,” he says, “need to learn. Learn to survive.” He reaches out with one hand and grips my shoulder. I keep my good arm wrapped round my middle, dropping my gaze to the asphalt. “One way or another.”

“Mako, I’m just a kid.” I blurt out. My voice hitches halfway through.

“It’s a hard world,” he growls. “For you, more hard.” He stands up, and fixes on his mask. “But you’re strong.” He turns around. My only friend. And he walks down the alley, away from me.

“Mako, I’m seventeen!” My voice comes out as a shriek, and that’s when I realize I’m scared as hell. “I can’t do this. Mako!” I shove myself to my knees, wincing at the blinding pain in my leg. Or what’s left of it. “Mako!”

Of course, he don’t turn around. He don’t even look back.

Now I sit huddled up by the fire, watching the sparks flit into the dark. Shivers crawl up my bare back and icy tears slip down to my chin, dripping onto chest.

You're strong.

I’ve never felt weaker in my life.

I wake up curled by a pile of ashes, my arm around my head, my legs pulled to my chest for warmth. I’m stiff all over. When I roll onto my back something pops in the middle of my spine and I groan, rubbing my eyes.

The angry red sun glares back at me, screened by smoke. I wipe the soot from my eyelids and sit up, dazed. Something important happened last night. Wait, no, I've got it - Mako's out foraging. So I shove the ashes to the edge of the alley and prop myself up against the wall, and I sit still, waiting.

Mako doesn't come back. Maybe he's late.

And then with a sickening jolt I remember. My stomach drops about a meter, my throat tightens, and I can hardly breathe through fear.

Damn you, Mako.

I scramble to my feet -

-foot-

and with one hand braced against the wall, begin to limp toward the street.

What the hell were you thinking? I can't survive. I won't even make it through the day. And what're you doing? Hogging down prawn and martinis at the bar? No. No way.

The twitch in my eye starts to come back and I press my palm to my face to still it, halting at the entrance to the street. Nothing moves beyond, cept a few rats. The half-crushed ute in the middle of the street is still here. Broken glass carpets the ground.

No shoes. No food. No home.

The twitch grows worse and I shove my palm to my face so hard black flecks swim round my vision.

That's what Dad did, y'know. Dad left soon as it was too hard to keep me. Stupid git.

I get down to my knees and start sifting through the rubble on the sidewalk. Pain jolts up from my leg but I grit my teeth and push through.

That's what they all do, Mako. You're just like everyone else.

I'm used to pain. Nothing like constant company to make you appreciate a fellow. Pain keeps me going. But this... it's different, somehow.

You frickin' saved me.

This pain makes everything else seem dim by comparison. Far away. Unimportant.

I thought I could trust you.

I let out a sharp gasp and jerk my hand out of the rubble, cradling it against my chest, trying to staunch the blood. I rock back and forth for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut to keep back the tears. Been a while since I cried. Been a while since I've been betrayed.

And that's when I decide.

It will never happen again.