star chasers

i.

Lefty met Chu in the middle of a fight.

Lefty was winning, for what it's worth, but it wasn't against Chu. It was Suzy of the South; a rugged, dirty man with hot breath and what could only be described as a primal Southern accent. He growled most of the words he spoke and his gobs of spit alone could water a small forest. Lefty was avoiding every blow Suzy threw.

Tattered wood bleachers held the town's residents, all facing the inner ring, surrounded by barbed wire gates. The announcer sat at the highest point of the two gates, watching all the action with a quick tongue and eager eyes. Fighters were transported to the arena with their hands tied. The only way to get out was to lose, and what losing meant depended on the mood of the leaders watching.

Chu sat in the audience, waiting for a signal. Most of the people in these rings were taken from village raids or kidnapped for Remus, the gang turned empire that burned every place they walked. Citizens came from all of their territories to watch the fights, some for fun, some out of morbid curiosity. Some to buy and trade fighters from other territories. It was updated slavery, a twisted reflection of ancient Roman tradition. He wondered what the Romans would think.

"Should be wiped away like the scum they are," he murmured to himself, wrapping bandages tight around his arms like the fighters he watched.

Lefty sidestepped as Suzy lunged towards him. When the monster of a man threw another punch, he dodged, meeting a different fist. He cursed, dots in his vision, as his face dripped with blood. His nose burned.

"You slippery bastard," Suzy growled, panting, "Fight me like a man."

He assumed his stance, no dialogue, fists guarding his face. Suzy seemed to understand, sweaty, slow, as he copied Lefty. He could hear the murmurs of anticipation in the crowd. They wanted something neither would deliver.

Lefty watched his muscles ripple as Suzy swung his right arm with intensity, the kind of blow that would easily break Lefty's defense and a few of his teeth. He ducked and landed a blow to Suzy's abdomen, making him double over in surprise. With the energy he saved, he threw his left fist until it collided with Suzy's jaw.

The crowd roared.

Chu had watched the fighters with all the valor he could muster. He slipped a slim remote out of his pocket, finger resting on the button it held, just hard enough to feel it on his fingers.

Suzy wasn't down for long, but by the time the man awoke, he had a hand wrapped around his neck while another collided with his face.

"End it, boy," he heard the Remus leader roar, standing up in the crowd, "You're boring me."

A wave of fear filled his body. He swallowed to push it down.

"It was him, or me," he whispered, so quiet only he could hear, "Him, or me."

The pop of a gunshot echoed through the air.

Chu smiled as the leader fell from the bleachers, life leaving his body, red staining the shabby wood. The crowd filled with cries of confusion. He looked across the arena, making eye contact with a figure in the swarm. They both nodded.

He pushed the button.

Lefty stood up, away from Suzy, as the ground began to shake. The bleachers where the Remus leader once stood, full of nobles and loyal citizens, crumbled to the ground as smoke plumed. A bomb.

The perfect opening.

Suzy opened his eyes, dizzy and bloodsoaked, looking around at the chaos. He gave a toothy grin, cracked his knuckles and, with a shriek of triumph, Suzy of the South ran towards the gate entrance. A wild joy filled his eyes, the kind that told you if the arena door hadn't been opened, he would have tore it from its hinges.

"Get out of here, slippery bastard," he yelled to Lefty, punching every guard that came towards him as he escaped.

Chu ran from the stadium as soon as he activated the bomb, disappearing into the crowd and towards the edge of town. Star Chaser trucks, caked with age and dirt, held drivers who plumed dust in their tires as people jumped into the truck bed.

"Where to?" he yelled, wind whipping his tied back hair.

"The fighters," the driver responded.

The fighting quarters, as most of Remus called it, sat outside the arena, where fighters slept and ate before training inside. Though destroying it released the people who need freedom most, rhe Remus guards were probably waiting for them. Chu watched trucks already parked by the huts, a cloud of dust as some drove away, the sound of yells, minor gunfire. He pulled a cloth around his neck to cover his face, grabbed a gun from the truck bed, and took cover..

Clouds of dust surrounded the face off between Remus and the fighters. Chu jumped out of the truck, screeching to a stop, and cocked his gun. The gunfire had died down, it seemed, an occasional crack in the air. Most guards were disarmed. He could tell.

Lefty held the machete with confidence and fear, two forces fighting in his mind. The fighters were trained too well to fall to the Remus guards heading their way. He ran into the dust filled battle, eyes flitting towards the nearest exit, a clearing in the dust. Freedom. He could taste it on his lips. He could feel it in the dirt pushing against his feet. It was something you would do anything for. Something Remus had for far too long.

A violent yank on his shirt disturbed the dream as he fell to the ground. A guard held the back of his shirt in a balled fist, flashing a smile.

"It's over."

Cold metal touched his temple, familiar, dangerous. The barrel of a gun.

For a moment, he could see it in his mind: grabbing the wrist with the gun, ducking as he shot, twisting his arm and running. Until the man recovered and shot him in the back of the head. He stood and walked with the man, who kept the gun at his back. He'd get out. He'd find another way.

A crack rang in the air as the pressure of the gun at his back lifted, a metallic clink as it fell to the ground. Blood stained the dust around him, wet on the back of his shirt. He turned a dead guard.

"Hey!"

A tall man stood from a truck bed, gun at his side, face covered by a cloth. He wildly beckoned for Lefty and reached out a bronzed arm.

Lefty sprinted for the truck, and Chu pulled him into the bed, leaving in a large cloud of dust, away from the fighters, blood and tears, calloused fists and black eyes, He sighed.

"What do they call you, brother?" Chu asked the boy, gazing at the dark scars on his face, some old, some fresh.

He looked up. "Lefty."

"I'm Chu. Ready to start over?"