The Yellow Pill (4 page)

They sold their
findings to a bald man with a missing arm, a mechanical one in its place that
badly needed repairing. His gas mask covered his entire face, and the black
reflection made it impossible to see his eyes. How he saw anything in the
darkness, Frey could only guess. But Jin seemed to know him and got a good
trade out of it.

Jin exchanged his
broken gun for a car battery; Frey took more time to choose, her broken radio
worth considerably less.

“Frey, please,”
Jin moaned when he saw what she was looking at. “Get something for yourself for
a change.”

Frey ignored her
friend and pointed at the remote controlled car. It was small, and fit snugly
inside her jacket.

Jin carried the
battery in his arms like a precious child. He was happy enough with the bargain
that he didn’t stay cranky at her for long. Frey felt good as well, smiling as
she thought how the kids would love the new toy.

There were a few
gunshots in the distance, but they were too far away to be of any immediate
danger to the market, so they were ignored. Otherwise it had proved to be an
unusually calm night for a change. Frey looked up at Jin and couldn’t help but
grin as she saw his face. A sign close by spilled warm colors, making Jin look
like he had as a little kid. They were just able to walk side by side again,
and Jin had pulled his mask down, twisted around and resting between his
shoulder
.

They rounded a
corner and found themselves facing two men at the end of the street. A few
people strolled to or from the night market, but otherwise the street was
empty. It wasn’t hard to guess for whom the two thugs were waiting for.

They must have
spotted us at the market.
So much for a calm night.
Frey
sighted mentally.
Oh well, their funeral.

They walked
towards the men, not even bothering to slow down, which the thugs certainly didn’t
seem to be expecting. Frey took her good hand out of her pocket. “I’ll take the
big one,” she said.

“Damn these small
fry,” he said. “They so much as scratch my battery, you’ll have to drag me away
from their unconscious,
friggin
bodies.” The battery was
plenty scratched already, and Frey found herself grinning, not taking her eyes
off  the
two men. She bent down and snatched up a rock.

“Bet on who takes
one out first?” She asked with a smile.

“Sure!”

They were only a few
meters from the duo that now stood there dumbfounded, not knowing what to
expect anymore. Frey snaked her arm back and let the rock fly. There was a
solid
thunk
,
and the big man’s head
flew back. He fell like a tree, eyes rolling up into his skull, his whole body
going rigid. It all went so fast that neither Jin nor the remaining thug knew
what had happened until the man was down.

“Hey!”

Frey grinned up
at him. “Not like I cheated.”

The other guy
turned and bolted, and Jin wrinkled his nose in disgust at the man’s retreating
back. “Leaving his partner like that. Scum.”

Frey circled her
arm around his midsection and hugged him tight before letting go. She only
stopped long enough to turn the big one to his side so he wouldn’t suffocate if
he threw up from the concussion. Jin smiled at
her,
the battery tucked under one arm, other rubbing her head playfully.

When he led her into the western districts Frey
already had a bad feeling burning in her guts. Now her stomach acids seemed to
be boiling. They were walking into gang territory, and she was far from relaxed
about it.

She must have hid
her fear poorly since Jin leaned towards her and whispered that he wouldn’t let
anything happen to her.

Frey felt her stomach
lurch, like her insides wanted to fuel her fear.
Idiot. I’m not worried
about me.
It was clear that Jin had somehow started hanging out with the
wrong sort of people, and Frey knew it almost always led to the same thing.
I’m
worried about you…

Frey rolled to
her side, rubbing her eyes, judging the time to be around noon. Her eyes stayed
on the coarse blanket, seeing Father Patrick tiptoeing back down in her minds
eye. Sleeping at the orphanage always made her feel safe. Her smile faded as
she thought of Jin. She rubbed her face with both hands before clasping them
behind her head. “Damn idiot,” she said.

Frey walked along
the rooftops of China Town when night came. Her eyes scanned the streets for
any sign of Jin’s familiar movements.

Once
she spotted Tim, his small frame snaking between the masses of people, his too
big clothing almost comical on his thin frame. He wasn’t being chased by anyone
so she guessed he was staying out of trouble for now. A small smile played on
her lips.
Probably ran before he could crawl.

Frey
gave up trying finding Jin and walked towards the west, the scrap yard visible
between the buildings. The chances of falling to your death escalated when you
couldn’t see where you put your feet, so it was pretty much deserted at night.
A shudder passed through Frey as she looked at the dome, reminded that no stars
were projected tonight.

Friggin
makes me uneasy…

Her
head snapped back to the scrap yard.
What the hell was that?

If it
had been a rat, it had to be a bloody big one. It shouldn’t have pulled her
attention like a moth to flames, but it did… Suddenly she wondered if the man
with the smooth shirt still lay were he had fallen or already reduced to a pile
of bone by the scavengers. Or maybe someone had gone looking for him… and the
thing he had been carrying.

Frey
jumped over rooftops, only then realizing she was running. She knew it was
stupid but couldn’t stop herself more than she could stop the citizens craving
the Yellow Pill. The scrap yard opened up like the big explosion of junk that
it was.

She
stayed in the protection of the buildings, gazing around the mounds of metal.

There!

A
group of black shadows moved out of view.

The
distance and darkness made it hard to make out more than just contours. She
followed, sneaking from one pile to the next. Frey strained to pick out any
sounds, but to no avail. The group moved out of view a second time. When she
spotted them again they were just climbing one of the piles of metal debris.
With the blackness of the dome behind them, only the odd reflection separated
them from it.

She
followed as silently as she could, easing her head above the ridge. But they
were gone...

Frey
scrabbled up the last bit, turning in a circle on the top.
There’s nowhere
to go!

She
picked her way through the scrap yard faster than was wise, stumbling up the
slope to the very top. Now that she stood there looking around into the
darkness she wondered if she was going crazy…

Exploring new buildings could be a very good or very bad idea. Good in
that they could actually contain something of value, bad since they might
shelter bad people. At least it was taking her mind off what had happened on
the scrap yard.

No sign of anyone living here so far.

Frey hoisted her worn, dark blue backpack higher on
her shoulder. It was empty now, but she was hoping to leave with it filled.

Frey strolled along the open spaces on the top floor,
surprised but not complaining that there still wasn’t any sign of life. Frey
moved from room to room, a couple of computers. They were big and bulky, the
screens black and dusty. There wasn’t enough power to supply one of them
anywhere
she
knew, but parts were always harvested and everything that
might be valuable, taken to the markets. Whichever gang had the monopoly of the
electricity would pay a high price to get their hands on these.

Frey picked her way through the
room,
opening every drawer to make sure she wasn’t missing anything of value. She
laughed out loud at the sight of a package of unopened biscuits. Using her
sleeve, she revealed some long forgotten cookie-brand. The next few rooms
proved to be pretty much useless, although she did find another package of
biscuits.

Frey paused.
Wonder what it was like when all this
stuff was working.
If the coating of dirt and destruction was anything to
judge by things had been like this for a long time.
Did the pill do this?

She had seen it happen so many times, seen the crazed
look take over, twisting the features of those she had known to something she
certainly didn’t.  

A small voice reminded her of the signs Jin had
started showing, but she was pushing the fear away.
If he’s taking the pill
I have to find a way to stop him.

Frey could feel the burning from tears, a warm hand
clenching the insides of her throat. She leaned over the desk, hands flat on
the surface while breathing even and slow, staring down at some scattered tacks
half buried in dust and filth. There was mold on the sides the wood had probably
once been a deep red, the carvings on the legs clear and unscratched.

The dome flashed as it allowed another drop,
immediately followed by a second.

It’s getting
worse…                                                  

Frey wasn’t sure if she meant the addiction itself or
the distribution of the pill.
Probably both…

Something, a sort of tickling sensation at the back of
her neck made her look away from the fading sky towards the wall at her back.
She couldn’t have said why, but her eyes were drawn to the painting hanging
there.

The sensation of being watched was still there.

Frey moved towards the painting slowly, eyes traveling
to the small black dot acting as a nail. The sky behind her was fading fast but
there was enough to see the glimmer of a lens.

It wasn’t just the fact that she had just found
another camera. What made her heart go cold was that it readjusted to her face
being so close.

Frey backed away slowly, heart in her throat.

“Frey! Jesus-Holy-
Moley
,”
Tim yelled as he came bounding towards her.

Frey loosened her grip on the pipe. “Damn, Tim!”

“I asked around if
anyone’d
seen you an’ finally Axel said he saw you go in here. I
found’nother
camera-“

“Quite,” she said, clamping her hand over his mouth,
ushering him back the way they’d come. It was time to leave this building.

But her racing heart and speeding mind reminded her
there was probably nowhere to go to escape the sensation of being watched…

“Tim, this is important, so you have to listen, like
really
listen,” Frey said, waiting for him to complete a wide-eyed nod. She sighed and
sat back against the Volvo’s drivers seat, looking at the seven year old that
had followed her around like a pup ever since she had saved him from the east
gangs clutches.

I should have been more carful when telling Father
Patrick about the cameras…

Frey swallowed hard, trying to suppress the panic that
someone might have seen or heard them. And was anyone listening now? Was this
what made people disappear? By being caught doing something they shouldn’t? “Tim,
you need to stop looking for cameras,” she said, voice low as she leaned in
towards him, forcing him to meet her eyes. “You know the once we’ve found so
far?” He nodded. “I think there’s someone at the other end, watching us. I
don’t think they’re turned off at all.” Now Tim looked truly frightened and
Frey almost felt sorry enough to stop. “So don’t say anything out loud about
these things either, you understand?”

“But you’re
sayin
’ things
out loud now!” Tim said.

Frey
stroke
his dirty hair.
“It’s
okay
this once, Tim. But I’m serious. You
understand?” He nodded against her shoulder. “Good.” Frey cocked her head to
the side. “
Com’on
,
lets go home.”

Having dropped off Tim, and the biscuits at the orphanage, she made her
way along the dark street, walking in the shadows out of habit. Frey couldn’t
help glancing at street signs, wondering how many black lenses were hidden all
around them.

She was tired, but kept moving, never remaining still
for long and always where there were people, rather walking with the scum of
the night than stay in a dark empty room with a camera.

There were no artificial stars tonight either. A sour
taste filled her mouth as her gut clenched. She spat and moved away from the
beggars fire, shoving her hands in her pockets and moving on, trying to dismiss
the growing fear festering inside.
I’m not liking
this at all…

When “daylight” finally crept over The Wall she was still walking
through the city, hands in her pockets, hood up to hide her face. Today she
would find Jin, whatever district she had
have
to
enter to do it.

Frey walked towards the orphanage. Tim needed to
understand she wasn’t joking around and that he had taken her warning
seriously.

As soon as the black building came into view she knew
something was wrong. Before she knew it, she was running up the stairs to the
boy’s room where a few sleepy kids were heading down the stairs to find some
breakfast. A couple of boys were even still asleep. The kids being tired at
this hour wasn’t normal.

Frey leaned against the doorframe as she stared at
Tim’s corner. She felt her legs go weak, throat clenching in on itself. She was
looking at Tim’s bed, and it was made.

Tim never made his bed.

Frey moved as in a daze. She stared at the sheets that
were smoothed too well.

“Oh my god…” she whispered. “They took him.”

“What?” Father Patrick asked, just having entered the
room. “Frey? What’s wrong?”

Her knees bent, and couldn’t stop the silent tears from
falling, face resting against Tim’s bed. She didn’t feel Father Patrick’s hand
on her shoulder and didn’t hear his confused questions. She only knew one thing
right then and there, and that was that she couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t tell
him anything at all, for who knew who might listen?