Ghost, Devil, Angel

Chapter One - Grace

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But here on Earth, you hear screams all night, every night. I’m sure they sleep just fine on Mars, in their big beds, overlooking that perfect synthetic ocean. Not here.

The Ghosts took Maria on May 16th, 2099. We were living on the east side of LA at the time, in one of the countless run-down mega buildings near 20th Street. She’d been working late shifts at a shitty little shop called Papi’s Drugstore when they came tearing through out of nowhere on their bikes and hot rods. They shot up the whole street, killing twelve people in all. They set a fire that burnt half the block to the ground, robbed her store, and took her with them when they left.

I saw it late that night on Channel 54. An eyewitness described the whole thing in detail, how he watched them beat her while they pulled her by her hair from the store and threw her in the back of one of their cars. In a fit of panic, I started to head for the door. I don’t know what my plan was. Instead, I had a nervous breakdown. I collapsed on the floor, sobbing and screaming like a child. It was the only time I could remember crying since I was a child.

I woke up there the next day, the late afternoon sun spilling its uncaring heat onto my body. I laid motionless for hours, watching the flecks of dust drift in slow-motion over my arms. I had moments of hysteria where if I had mustered the strength to stand, I would have gotten up, grabbed a knife from the kitchen, and slit my throat from ear to ear. There were other moments of mania, where I imagined myself raiding a military warehouse and burning this entire godforsaken city down. I did neither. I just laid there, unmoving, until the sun set again. I’m not sure if I ever even blinked.

When I finally got up, I took a shower and put on Maria’s favorite t-shirt. I could feel the tears welling up again the whole time, but I forced them back, my eyes hot and burning. My head was pounding but I didn’t give a shit. Stay angry. I thought these words to myself over and over again until it was a mantra.

Stay angry.

I made my way to the LAPD headquarters to see if they had any more information. All the cops just looked at me like I was bothering them and told me things like ‘the investigation was ongoing’. I knew they didn’t actually give a shit and they knew that I knew it. And they act like they don’t know why we all fucking hate them.

I took a cab back to the east side. The roads were still blocked off, so I walked the rest of the way to Papi’s. I imagined Maria screaming in terror as they tore her over the counter, all the way out the doors and onto the sidewalk. My heart was beating so fast I thought it might pop and I’d drop dead right there. I’d have been ok with that.

I thought about the guy who saw it all happen. He said “they were roughing her up so bad because the poor girl put up quite a fight”. Of course she did. For a moment I could breathe again. Maria was the key. All I had to do was keep thinking of her and I could do this.

I asked everyone I could find if they knew anything else about what happened. For two hours I wandered out there in the rain, hoping against hope for any leads. Eventually I ran into a big, burly guy named Miguel. He told me he knew some Agency men who’d identified the gang as a small faction of the Ghosts that called themselves The Night Terrors. They ran as sort of a tactical squad; when the Ghosts were desperate for supplies, someone had to come into LA and get them. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, The Night Terrors would come to the outskirts of the city, hit some stores and sell what they stole to the gangs out in the Wastelands. The “other” spoils of war were theirs to keep.

Maria.

“So what’s your plan, amigo?” Miguel asked me with a kindness I wasn’t used to. Maybe it was just pity. “You goin’ after them?”

Honestly I hadn’t made any plans. I’d been running on autopilot since I got up. It was only once he asked me that I realized it. I nodded gravely.

“You watch yourself. The Night Terrors are some nasty pendejos.”

“Any idea how I go about finding them?” I asked, trying to sound tougher than I actually was. Miguel chuckled softly.

“Yeah, you won’t have to. You stay out in the Wastelands long enough, and they’ll find you.”

I spent the next four months working overtime. I barely ate. I slept two hours a night and spent every waking moment I had at the shooting range or studying judo. I quit paying my bills to save every cent I earned. They shut off my power the first month and my water the second. I got my first eviction notice the week I planned to leave. I knew I had to hurry or else my scumbag landlord Alois would send some gangster wannabe to put me in the hospital.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified. Somehow I’d never even been in a fight in my life. I was a street kid, but I got lucky when I was young and got a real job making food runs for a local market. I bounced between factory work and restaurants in my twenties and never wound up homeless again.

Sometimes I fantasized about signing up with the West Coast Rebellion, or just joining up with some hackers and killing the power grid. Could we rise up if we had the chance? Who the fuck knows. New America squashes people’s dreams like they were bugs. Honestly I was always too much of a coward to do anything. I knew I’d never make enough money to escape, so I just kept my head down and stayed out of trouble. Then I met Maria, and suddenly I had a reason to live.

I made up my mind the day we met. I started saving up to get her a one-way shuttle ticket to Mars. She deserved more than this place. She deserved more than a dead end.

That kind of devotion is a responsibility. I always knew that meant I would die for her if I had to, but I never imagined it also meant killing for her. The thought sent shivers up my spine, but I never doubted my ability to truly do it. If I met these guys face to face, it would be the only option I could fathom.

So I trained relentlessly. I pushed myself beyond limits I’d never known. There were days when I was too hungry and exhausted to keep going, so I pushed myself even further. I deeply considered putting myself out of my misery, or becoming a VR junkie like all those sad saps I met over the years who looked three times their age, their bodies frail from atrophy. Sometimes I hoped my heart would just give out and I wouldn’t have to end it myself. Instead, after a hundred days of this, my body and mind adjusted to the pain and exhaustion. It was like I had shed the skin of my old self. I didn’t recognize the man in the mirror. He was lean and dangerous looking. His eyes were hard and black as opal. He moved quietly and only with purpose. I hated and feared him.

On my last day, I packed some bags full of supplies and put every dollar I had to my name in a bag. I dropped the keycard to my apartment in Alois’s inbox in the lobby and hiked downtown. That walk used to wear me out. Only four months had passed but I could probably run those nine blocks now without breaking a sweat.

I bought an old, used Pontiac that barely ran. It rattled when it was in neutral. I drove it out to Little Tokyo, took a deep breath, and stepped out onto the street for the first time.

This was no place for working class people. Little Tokyo was the rat’s nest of LA. On every corner there was someone selling infoware or illegal VR. Scavengers crept through the alleys looking for a score. I saw them eyeing me with contempt because I had no enhancements to speak of. They knew I didn’t belong here.

I walked slowly through the backstreets, expecting a gun at my back any second, but it never happened. I came to a rusted service door with graffiti of a ghost and a devil twisting around one another in battle, an angel hovering over their heads. This was the place. I hit the buzzer. A woman’s face appeared on the video screen, and she proceeded to look me up and down several times. Her eyes flashed neon pink. I could tell she was analyzing me.

“I think you got the wrong place, skinbag.”

“I don’t!” I said quickly before she turned the camera off. “You’re Goody, right? I’m here to get wired.”

She looked taken aback and then laughed mockingly.

“Who the fuck is you, boy? You look like LAPD to me.”

“My name’s Slate. I work with a guy who calls himself Pelican, he said you could set me up.”

Goody squinted at me even more suspiciously. I could see her brain racing, trying to figure out if I was lying.

“Forget it, I ain’t seen Pelican in months, they coulda got to him. Goodbye!”

“No, wait!” I yelled desperately, but the screen flicked off. I hit the buzzer again but she didn’t answer. I couldn’t give up, I had no idea where else to go where I wouldn’t get myself killed. I rang the buzzer six more times.

“Please, Goody, you have to help me. I’m begging you.”

No answer.

“Do you remember back in April, the Night Terrors raided the Blackthorn Street block? They kidnapped my girlfriend.”

Still no answer.

“I don’t know what else to do, you’re the only person that can help me. Please.”

I finally let go of the buzzer in defeat. The video screen flickered on again.

“You know she’s dead, right?” Goody said coldly. “I don’t waste my time wiring up idiots.”

I swallowed. I hadn’t actually said this since it happened.

“Yeah, I know. I have to go after them.”

The screen shut off once again. A few seconds later the service door screeched and began rising. Goody was standing on the other side.

She looked like she could have been a goddess in another life, her features sharp and angular. She towered over me, with a long, slender neck and leopard spot tattoos dotting her arms and shoulders. There were divots and fine lines tracing every curve of her forearms and hands, but the work was excellent. It would be nearly impossible to tell her limbs were cybernetic unless you were this close to her. A silver chain connected her lip ring to her ear, and another silver chain connected her choker to her top and continued down to her shorts, all black latex pressing tightly against her perfect black skin. Some people who dress like this look like they’re going to the club to show off. I could tell by the way she held herself that this was more than fashion; it was Goody’s uniform for war. There was not a shred of doubt in my mind that this woman had seen and done some serious shit.

“So some bike gang killed your girl and you’re just gonna up and be a fucking merc, is that what you think?”

“I’m not planning to live through this if that’s what you’re asking. Just gonna do a lot of damage.”

She seemed to like this answer. She smirked as she closed the door.

“I dunno what you’re lookin’ to do but my work ain’t cheap,” she said as she led me through a dark garage.

I handed her the bag of money.

“You can have everything here. That’s my life savings.”

She took it and turned down a corridor into a lab. She threw the money next to her terminal, then motioned to a chair in the corner.

I sat and the chair leaned back automatically until I was almost laying flat.

“You realize these motherfuckers are gonna be stacked, right?” She said grimly. “There’s a lotta money there but it ain’t gonna get you even close to the kinda hardware they’re gonna have. And that’s not even counting whatever kinda guns they’ll be strapped with.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m trying to be discreet,” I told her. Her eyebrows raised slightly. “I don’t want them to know I have any augmentations. I need to get close to them.”

“So whatchu thinkin’ then?” She asked as she sat down next to me. I nodded at her arm.

“Pelican told me you have custom arm scythes. I want those. I want the Ghosts to have no idea I have them.”

She shook her head and laughed.

“Not a chance! These are my fuckin’ trademark. If I give these to you every merc in LA is gonna want a set.”

“That’s good business, isn’t it?”

“You don’t know how this shit works, do you?” She asked, becoming incredibly serious. “I don’t need that kinda heat. NeoTech is already circling me. They know I got access to their supplies. If I start installing it on other people they’ll kill my ass.”

“Look, I already told you I don’t expect to make it back from this,” I pleaded. “If I die out in the Wastelands, you don’t have to worry about it. And if I somehow make it back, it’s not like I’m gonna be out here in Little Tokyo flashing the things. Like you said, I’m not a fucking mercenary.”

She shook her head slightly and looked concerned. I could tell she was a methodical person, always playing chess in her mind. You’d probably have to be to survive in this line of work.

“After I set you up I never wanna see your fuckin’ ass again, we understand each other?”

“Yes.”

“As in you don’t come back. You get the fuck outta LA entirely.”

“Yes, I understand. You’ll never see me again.”

She sighed deeply and picked up a syringe.

“All right, hold still.”

“Wait,” I said apprehensively. “There’s a lot of money in there.”

“I told you I was expensive.”

“Just one more thing. I could really use some Optigon gear.”

She smiled and pulled a box from the drawer under her workstation, opened it and removed two synthetic eyeballs. The craftsmanship was surreal. You’d never know they weren’t a pair of human eyes if not for the silicon and wires.

“Just got a new model in. They look completely natural. Give you data reads and zoom up to six times. Fully AI operated.”

I imagined having my eyes pulled out of their sockets and my stomach lurched. I pushed the thought from my mind. Maria.

“I’ll take them,” I said, hoping she couldn’t hear the hesitation in my voice.

“These are both pretty serious upgrades to get at once,” she told me. “You gonna feel like shit for a day or two, just so you know.”

Goody picked up the syringe again and stuck it in my arm.

“This is gonna put you out. See you in the morning, sunshine.”

My body immediately began to feel heavy. I sunk into the chair, into the black, into the same nightmare I’d had every night for months.

I awoke in a panic, thirstier than I’d ever been in my life. I couldn’t remember where I was. I tried to call for help but my no sound came out. I looked around and couldn’t see a thing. I tried to get up but my arms barely moved. They felt like they were asleep without the pins and needles. It was dark in the lab. Where was Goody? Did she fuck me over?

I squinted to try to make anything out and began to focus. There was a glass of water on the medical tray. I slowly reached out to grab it. My hand was shaking and felt frighteningly heavy.

I sat up and downed the water, rubbing my head. I looked around again, and suddenly the entire room lit up. I looked around for Goody to see if she’d switched the lights on but she wasn’t there. I realized it was my new eyes, activating perfect night vision on their own because I couldn’t see. I could hardly believe it.

I scanned the room. The level of detail was beyond 20/20 vision; it was like having microscopes for eyes. A datalink popped up in the corner of my view, telling me my exact location. I saw a tray of tools and some prescription bottles in the corner. Before I could even finish the thought, my new eyes zoomed in on the nearest bottle. A tiny, hi-def rectangle popped up around the label. “Norepinephrine”, my datalink informed me. “100 milligrams. 50 count.”

The horror of having my body parts swapped out was beginning to ebb away. This was incredible. I could already understand how some people get addicted to augmenting themselves.

“Whatcha think?” Goody was standing against the doorway smiling. I hadn’t noticed her come in because I was so distracted.

“Unbelievable,” I said stupidly.

“You try your blades yet?”

“No,” I looked down at my arms and suddenly realized that she’d tattooed me. Neon red flames twisted violently around my forearms. For a split-second I was angry that she’d given me no warning, but I quickly realized why. There was no way to tell that I had any implants.

“How do they work?”

“It’s like flexing a muscle,” she told me. “Just give it a try.”

I clenched my fists and nothing happened. I shook my arms, but no dice. Goody laughed. I held still for a moment and concentrated, imagining them. Just like my new eyes, they seemed to read my thoughts. It startled me when my forearms suddenly opened up, folding backwards toward my elbows. Shiny, stainless steel blades shot out just above my wrists. With a tiny whirr, the blades retracted and my forearms closed up again. This would take a little more getting used to. The realization that I was not entirely human anymore began to set in.

I looked at Goody. She looked like she knew what I was thinking but she didn’t say it. I just said thanks.

“Don’t mention it. Just try not to let them kill you, ok? I did hella good work on you.”

“This means a lot to me Goody,” I told her earnestly. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but if you have any guns it’d really help me out. Nothing special, just a revolver, something small.”

“I thought you might ask,” she said, motioning for me to follow her. We went down the hall into another room. It looked like a tiny arms warehouse. There were automatics in one corner, an entire wall of sniper rifles and smartguns. She picked up a handgun, cocked it and gave it to me.

“This is a NeoTech M-10AF Magnum. You can switch from single-fire mode to full auto.”

I put the gun in my jacket pocket. Time to pop the question.

“One last thing.”

“You’re pushin’ it, Slate.”

“I need some Black Diamond.”

“You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“I’m not.”

“You ever done that shit before? People lose their minds from that shit.”

“Just one hit. I know you have it.”

She rolled her eyes, gasped and threw her hands up.

“Be right back, Mr. Death Wish.”

She left the room and came back a moment later with an inhaler.

“Don’t take this unless you have no choice. You may think you hard but you ain’t.”

“Thank you, Goody.”

“Stupid ass,” she said as she stormed off. “Get the fuck out.”

My first three weeks in the Wastelands were unbearable. The air conditioning barely worked in the Pontiac. I did everything I could to keep from barreling through my water supply. I parked off the roads, moving the car under hills to avoid the sun whenever I could. I spent most of my time meditating to stave off the heat. Mostly I thought of Maria.

I could hardly believe there were nomads living in this. I always thought LA was rough but I couldn’t imagine how anyone survived out here. Not alone, certainly.

By the 28th day, I’d run out of food and water and was just driving aimlessly. I’d abandoned the road hours ago, trekking across the cracked and barren land, the car occasionally bouncing wildly over a stray rock. I was halfway out of my mind when I finally saw a form in the distance. I zoomed in on it. In my delirium, I nearly convinced myself it was a mirage, but it wasn’t. Standing all by itself, in the literal middle of nowhere, was a rusty old mobile home with skulls painted on the side.

I parked my car against the nearest hill and approached.

I stood a few yards from the door and looked around. Bits of debris, fuel containers, and car parts littered the area. There were fresh tire tracks leading west but no vehicles in sight. It was impossible to tell when they were last here or when they’d be back, but this was their property, no doubt in my mind.

The door had a rusty old padlock and chain on it. My hands shook as I pulled the gun from my jacket. I stood back and fired. It packed way more punch than I expected. I blew half the door off. There was a girl’s muffled scream from inside.

My heart nearly exploded. It couldn’t be.

I threw the door open and looked around frantically. The bullet had taken a chunk off the wall as well. A plume of dirt and dust was settling onto the stained floor. There were blood and beer stains everywhere. The smell nearly gagged me. I turned to the left and there was a tiny hallway leading to a bedroom. I called out but my voice barely worked.

“…Maria?”

There was no response. I crept slowly down the hallway and heard shuffling. My gun at the ready, I swung through the doorway to the bedroom and almost threw up.

A girl laid on the floor with a gag in her mouth, barely moving. Her arms were tied to a pair of makeshift bars on the wall, her naked body black and blue with bruises and covered in filth. She looked at me in horror and began convulsing with fear.

It wasn’t Maria. Some tiny part of me had held onto the slightest hope, until now. I knew what this meant.

I approached the girl and she screamed into the tightly-wound rags. There was no one around to hear her for miles. They did it to torture her, nothing more.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” I told her. She lashed violently as I reached for the handkerchief. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. I’m getting you out of here.”

I grabbed the knot of cloth behind her head and untied it, then undid her wrists. She began weeping. “Please help me,” she begged over and over again. I tried to console her but she was out of her mind. Suddenly she screamed again, and before I could even react, a crowbar came down hard on my left shoulder and dropped me straight to the ground.

“How the fuck you find this place?” A gravelly voice bellowed. A monster of a man stood over us, a crowbar in one hand and a gun in the other. He had a metal jaw and a devil’s skull tattooed on his neck. He crammed the gun against my throat. One of his buddies stood behind him, a scrawny, sickly looking guy with stringy hair. He was giggling. It sent chills up my spine.

“Answer me now or I paint the fuckin’ wall,” he sneered. The girl let out a squeak.

“Back in April you raided the east side,” I hissed. “You robbed a drugstore and kidnapped my girlfriend. You brought her here and you killed her, right? You piece of shit?” He pressed the gun harder and harder against my throat as I spoke. I could hear bikes revving outside.

“We bring lotsa girls out here,” he said, nodding at her. “Show ‘em all a real good time.”

His buddy giggled again.

“You come here all by yourself, meatsack?”

This was it.

“No,” I rasped. “I brought some friends.”

I swung my hand up as my arm scythes protracted. In one smooth motion, I took his arm clean off. He threw himself backwards screaming. I jolted upward and sliced his other arm off. The crowbar landed with a dull clunk. His buddy had barely reacted as I pulled out the Magnum and shot him right between the eyes.

I could hear the bikes go quiet outside. We were in some shit now. The girl was hyperventilating. Things had changed. I had to get her out of here.

I moved down the hallway and peeked out the kitchen window. There were nine bikes outside. That meant there were seven Ghosts left. I didn’t have much of a choice.

I took the Black Diamond from my pocket and inhaled the whole thing. It tasted like metal. My brain shuddered and my body went icy. Every ounce of fear left me. I kicked the door open and just started firing. Clearly they hadn’t expected this, and I took two out as the other five started scrambling. I emptied the chamber, taking out another as I charged. I felt a rush not unlike an orgasm as I plunged an arm scythe into the neck of another. One of them shot me in the ribs and I felt nothing. I swung around and chopped his head clean off.

I could hear the other three screaming, feel their chaos. The one nearest to me shot me again in the shoulder. I jammed the blade straight through his heart. I wrenched the gun from his hand and put a bullet in the next one’s head. I could feel the Black Diamond wearing off already, a wave of agony passing through my guts. I stumbled and dropped to my knees as the last Night Terror put me in the sights of his shotgun. God. All this and I failed. I closed my eyes.

I heard a bang, but I was still alive. I looked up and watched the last Ghost’s body crumple to the ground. I looked back at the trailer to see the girl standing on the steps, naked and clutching a rifle, a look of abject terror on her face. I smiled weakly at her and collapsed.

I floated in and out of consciousness as she cradled my head in her hands and sobbed, her tears dripping down and cooling my face. The stars were beginning to come out and I swore I could see Mars twinkling. I realized then that this was her story, not mine. Thank God.

“What’s your name?” I asked her.

“Anastasia.” She said softly. Her lips trembled. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“It’s ok. Really,” I said. It was so hard to speak. “I came out here to find a ghost, but I found you.”

She cried even harder. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

“Live,” I told her and smiled. I wiped the tears from her cheek. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. “Just live.”

I could feel myself rising up, stretching out into infinity. The pain fell away as quickly as it came, and a sense of peace washed over me like an ocean tide. I looked out as Anastasia’s naked form made its way across the dunes, toward the car, toward Mars.