The most recent addition to a long line of highly specialized warriors, Havik required less water and sustenance in the extreme heat. He was resistant to the high levels of radiation and lingering toxicity in the sands.
This was his home. He was made for it.
In the distance, a vehicle approached, kicking up a plume of dust. Havik felt no need to move from his current position on the rocky outcropping. Eventually, the vehicle stopped, and his father emerged.
Large and with a complexion as red as the dirt, Havik knew he appeared as a younger version of his father. Occasionally, a warrior looking to ingratiate himself with the warlord would comment on the strong resemblance. More fools them. If Kaos ever looked at his son with fondness or affection, Havik never noticed.
Kaos carried a silver canister.
“Is that…?” Havik took the canister with both hands, surprised at the lightness. The vessel containing the remains of his mate and son should be heavier.
Kaos lowered himself to the rock next to Havik. Their legs nearly touched. “You need to report to Observation Station Prime in two days.”
“Yes, wonderful to see you again, Father. My journey was long, but I found some measure of peace,” Havik said.
“Do not mock,” Kaos warned.
“I would not dare.” Perhaps he dared a little. With only his thoughts, the stars, and the wind for company, he forgot how to speak to his warlord. “Forgive me,” he added.
Kaos huffed, apparently mollified. “You are not ready to return, I see. Take the vehicle. Leave immediately.”
With the vehicle, it would be a hard two days’ journey to the mountains to reach the observation station by the deadline. “I can take a shuttle and be there in hours,” Havik said.
“The winds are too fierce. Take the vehicle.”
Havik bit back the retort that he was a skilled enough pilot to safely land a craft, but the winds at the observation station were notorious. "And what will I be doing at Observation Station Prime?”
“The communications array is out of alignment. When that is complete, I will have another task for you.”
Kaos offered a mission devoid of meaning but Havik accepted. Perhaps it was too soon for him to return to the clan.
“I will need supplies,” he said.
“The vehicle is stocked. You can resupply when you arrive at the station.”
Havik rose to his feet. Kaos did the same. Without thinking, Havik’s arms spread wide, as if inviting an embrace.
Kaos stood still, watching him with a scowl.
Havik retrieved his bag from the dusty ground, turning his face away to hide his momentary discomfort at the situation.
Nothing had changed. He did not know why he thought otherwise.
Thalia
Thalia worked until the morning sun came through the kitchen windows. Fortunately, the worst injuries were a gunshot wound that grazed an arm and a dislocated shoulder. She had a half-dozen lacerations to clean and stitch, one broken nose, two busted lips, and a set of bruised ribs. She had treated worse but never in such volume. The heat was on Nicky’s entire organization, and everyone felt the burn.
She threw her bloody clothes in the garbage, rinsed off in a shower, and collapsed in her bed. When she woke after sunset, she found her door locked. She hadn’t been concerned about Nicky’s anger when she fell asleep, but she should have been. She wasn’t useful to him anymore.
Shit.
The acid in her stomach churned. Rummaging through her nightstand for the bottle of antacids, she swallowed the pill dry.
Not even Doc could have saved Nathan, but Nicky didn’t see it that way. All he saw was Thalia failing to do her only job.
Thalia had worked for Nicky in some capacity since she was thirteen and crawling through windows for basic burglary. She knew how he operated. People had jobs. If they didn’t do their job, they were relocated. Usually that meant they were moved into sex work because while some sex workers were amazingly skilled, Nicky didn’t service the type of clients who appreciated anything more than a warm hole to fuck.
He didn’t kill people that often, unless they fucked up majorly, so that was some cold comfort. If he wanted her dead, he would have fired her in the permanent sense last night after she patched up the last minion. She got to shower, she got to sleep, and she got to wake up, so that must mean he meant to keep her alive. Hooray.
Her stomach gurgled. It’d be great if she got to eat that day, but she wasn’t going to push her luck.
Best-case scenario, Nicky was pissed and would keep her locked up for a few days to teach her a lesson.
Thalia filled a cup at the sink in the bathroom and drank. Despite brushing her teeth twice, she could still taste blood. The taste isn’t real, she tried to tell herself. It was just her mind stuck in a stress-induced feedback loop, playing the same sensory information again and again.
Nicky had to put down his best friend last night. It was a mercy killing but Thalia had shown that her apprenticeship with Doc wasn’t good enough. She remained just an assistant. Nicky needed a real doctor, an unavoidable necessity as the violence of the turf war escalated.
The best-case scenario was not happening.
Okay. What’s the second-best scenario? Nicky finds a new doctor and keeps Thalia on as an assistant. Not having to waste time retraining a new pair of helping hands. Nothing changes. Life goes back to normal.
Except the smile Nicky gave her… his teeth stained pink and his eyes cold enough to freeze the blood in her veins. He wasn’t in a forgiving mood. Nothing was going back to normal.
Time to brainstorm worst-case scenarios.
Nicky would move her into sex work and call it poetic justice, as Nathan handled that side of the operation. Best worst-case would have her being sent to one of the brothels or clubs. The best brothels registered their members and screen for violent behavior and disease. They had security and kept the facilities top-notch. They sold an
