Retribution for Wicked Deeds

Angie wasn’t the best driver. Whenever possible, she preferred going unhindered by boats. They were too large and unwieldy to pass unnoticed. Because of that, she never really practiced. Now, she had the drive across the swamped shallows to Skymarket to practice. If she wanted to get in unnoticed, she would need it. As obvious as a boat was, a boat being driven by an amateur was even more so. Rather than take the usual route, heading south and around to avoid the larger ruins, she headed down the direct path between Horizon and Skymarket, a path that would take her through two separate ruined cities. Fortunately, she knew she was far enough from the current Greenie bases that she figured they wouldn’t be visiting these ruins. That said, there was a high chance of a Goar boat rolling through, either headed to the ruins further south, or scaving these cities themselves. With her mask on, she shouldn’t get bothered by any wandering Goar, as long as they weren’t organizing for an attack. Too big of a risk that she was a more dangerous one of them. A lone Goar traveling through ruins meant trouble, even other Goar thought that.

Travelling through the first ruin’s streets, weaving between the partially and mostly submerged buildings, Angie practiced her driving. She didn’t need to be great, just good enough. To turn, and land, and park. On the trip between the cities, she passed a fully crewed Goar ship, travelling south. She watched as they prepared to raid her. She stood on the deck and raised her gun, staring them down through her mask. The moment they saw her mask, they stopped preparing and turned off, giving her a wide berth. She didn’t have time to worry about them, though. She had more important matters to attend to. Vengeance waited for no man. She got back on the helm, and continued into the next flooded city. This was a ruin she’d travelled through before. The water had risen some, less than a couple centimeters short of two decimeters, since she came through here four years ago. She pushed that out of her mind for now. That didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting to Luis.

Angie had never actually been to Skymarket. Not in her training with the self-proclaimed God, not in her flight from said insane man, never. Approaching the Skymarket main dock, she immediately saw why. There were cameras everywhere. She needed a reason for the mask, likely. Any place with that many cameras would be hesitant to let a masked person wander around. Heading below decks, she looked through her identities. ‘Wendy Allison’ would work nicely. Propping the photo of ‘Wendy’ up beside the mirror, Angie pulled off her mask and got to work putting the burn makeup on. She would only need it for the initial check, probably. Hopefully. But a horrifically scarred face gave her a reason to wear a mask. The application process took the entire ten minute approach to the docks. Leaving most of her more violent hardware in the safe on the ship, Angie headed back topside, mask once again on, to dock the boat.

Readying her boat for being tied up, she was met on the dock by a man with a rifle. The gun was not pointed at her, per se, but it was readied and loaded. She could see that much. One of the problems of wearing a mask in Goar territory. Too high a risk to just let her wander about. “Who are you, why are you here?” the armed man demanded.

She held her hands in the air, showing to the man and whoever was behind the camera that she wasn’t armed. The armed guard asked her, “Please, exit the boat with your hands up.”

“Sorry,” Angie said, making her voice as scared as she could muster as she stepped off Diane’s boat. “About the worry and the mask.”

“Who are you?” he asked.

Angie stuttered out. “The name’s Wendy.” Slowly, she pulled the mask up, revealing the disgustingly burned face beneath and scanning Wendy’s ID. “I’m sorry that my mask freaked you out.”

Upon seeing the burns, the guard turned quite apologetic. “No,” he said, “I’m sorry about how I treated you. This close to Goar waters, we can’t be too careful.”

“No, no, no, I understand,” Angie said, sliding her face back on, “It’s my fault for not thinking.”

“Welcome, Wendy Allison,” the guard said, waving the young woman past. He passed a radio message to his people, but Angie was already on the move. She was honed in on her goals. As she walked out of the port, she immediately looked for the nearest bar. She knew Luis’s modus operandi. True to stereotypes, Skymarket had a bar less than a block off of the port’s entrance. She walked in, seated herself, and ordered a beer. She didn’t touch the beer, instead scanning the room. Luis was not there. Not yet, or not anymore. Angie began to check out individuals, to determine which of these people might be buddies with Luis might know where he was.

While she was making her assessments, a man sat down across from her. She looked at the man. “Yes?” she said.

“Hello, there. It’s good to see you again,” the man replied.

Angie shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m new in town.”

“Oh, not recently,” he replied, “Wendy, was it?”

“You seem to know a lot,” Angie replied, her head cocking.

The man smiled. “It is a side effect from my former job.”

“It seems you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but have yet to tell me yours,” Angie said, as politely as possible.

The man chuckled knowingly, but he did respond. “I’m Tomas.”

“Well, Tomas,” Angie said, “I apologize for forgetting our first meeting. When exactly was this?”

“Seven years ago, or so. In Newest York,” he answered.

Angie nodded. That explained the knowing chuckle. He wasn’t as legitimate as he seemed. “I’m looking for a… friend. Would you happen to know where they were?”

“Probably, depending on who this ‘friend’ is.”

Angie nodded. “He’s new in town, too,” she said, “A man named Luis.”

“I might, depending on your reasons and what you’re offering,” he replied.

Angie leaned onto the table, her smooth, bulletproof face revealing no emotion. “Did I happen to be alone, back when we first met?” she asked.

“Nope,” Tomas stated.

Angie, still leaning on the table, one by one pressed each of her fingertips against its opposite. “Then, you know exactly how serious I am when I ask, where is Luis.” It wasn’t intoned like a question. More like a threat. And, from the sudden change in attitude, that’s exactly how Tomas took it.

“He’s on a job,” the mysterious man said, “Some turn of the century shipwreck. Four miles north east of here.”

Standing up, Angie said, “Thank you.” Then, sliding the beer across the table, she added, “Have a beer.” And, leaving the money for the drink and tip on the table, she headed back to the port. Her hunt was entering its final stage. She walked past the guards, nodding politely as she returned to Diane’s boat. She left the port and, taking out a rag, wiped the makeup off of her natural face. She wanted that to be the ghost that haunted Luis through the afterlife. But her old face was more comfortable for the approach. The four mile trip was the shortest of her life. She could still see the tops of some of the taller towers in Skymarket. She could also see a large boat, floating in the empty water. A driver, no overwatch. Greedy idiot that Luis was. She stopped a solid, but not far, distance away, and slid back into her drysuit. Taking with her a knife, she dove into the water. She swam just under the water, climbing onto the large boat. Scaling the hull near the stern, Angie slinked up to the boat’s driver. Pressing the tip of the knife into their spine, Angie whispered in their ear, “I’d leave about now, if I were you. No need for you to get involved.”

The driver, understandably, started to drive away. No matter how much a little salvage job like this was earning them, it wasn’t enough to risk going up against what was at best a crazy person with a knife, and quite possibly a Goar commando or worse. As the larger boat accelerated away, Angie dove in towards Diane’s boat. She pulled up right atop the spot that the larger boat had just vacated. And she waited. She was good at waiting. She took a deep breath of the salty air, just to feel that stinging pain in her lungs. To feel that old knife wound. To remind her of who she was. She gathered up her other equipment from her Go-bag, just in case.

Five minutes later, Luis came up with his first haul. He looked at the boat, and the figure on the boat, surprised. “Diane?” he asked, climbing on board and dropping the bag.

Angie waited for him to get both feet aboard before she turned around. “Not quite,” she said, her white plastic face staring the man down.

“Who the hell are you?” Luis said, a mixture of confusion and fear being masked by feigned irritation. He knew, even if he didn’t know.

“Your flaws, your past, your wicked ways. We’ve finally come home to roost,” Angie stated, then slowly removed her face.

Luis froze. He was seeing a ghost. He’d killed her, just days ago. “No. Nuh-nuh-no. You’re dead. You were Greenie bait. You drowned.”

Angie stared him down. He started to scamper away. “There’s nowhere you can escape your own demons. We will always catch up to you.”

Reaching the edge of the boat, he stared down the slowly approaching ghost with terror in his eyes. “It wasn’t me. It’s not my fault. They paid me to. Blame them.”

Angie raised her knife, ready to stab. “Excuses? Even to the end?”

“They said it was necessary. It was part of the job,” Luis continued to insist. “If you want to kill anyone, kill them.”

“Who might that be?” Angie asked, tossing her knife back towards the go-bag, where it clattered against the deck of the ship.

“Our employer. Never knew his name. Contacted me through dead drops. Sorry, but he paid a whole lot of money,” Luis began to vomit words.

Angie cut him off before he got far. “I asked who.”

“Rite. He called himself Rite.”

“Rite, you say?” Angie repeated. As Luis nodded, Angie’s gun dropped out of her sleeve and into her hand. Before he even noticed, there was a hole in Luis’s head. “Sorry,” Angie said to the corpse as she kicked him overboard, “I made a promise to myself.” Putting on her face again, she sighed. “Well, damn it,” she muttered to herself. It seemed that her vengeance wasn’t over quite yet. She needed to figure out who this Rite person was. They had wanted her dead, specifically. They knew who she was and wanted her dead. She couldn’t help but chuckle at her own choice of words. After all, it seemed just as she’d come after Luis, her own past was hunting her as well. But why, and how. And, most importantly, who. There were only two people she could think of who might be after her past self and could figure out where she went. One of them had sent her a boat instead of a hit squad, so she doubted he was behind it. Which left one person. M. Why she had changed her name to Rite, Angie would have to ask her. Preferably before she killed her. Last she remembered, Angie and her old mentor had left M in an old asylum, on what was left of the mainland. Turning Diane’s boat’s engine back on, Angie headed north west, towards the ruins of the old society. Towards the domain of the Goar tribes. Homeward.