Post by MSS Productions on Sept 18, 2020 1:00:10 GMT
Morning Star Studios presents….
The shot opens into a view of a brilliant night sky filled with stars and the spinning of helicopter blades. The shot pulls out a bit to show a single helicopter flying over what had once been a large highway system. It was barren now, abandoned for nearly a decade by the look of the overgrowth that could be seen from above.
Starring
Torian Drake
And
Kendra Goldilocks Goganious
Voice:“Mr. Moren…”
A male voice shouted over the sound of the helicopter blades and the shot moved into the interior. A man was sitting strapped to a chair with his wrist and ankles bound to the seat and his head lolled down as if he were unconscious. His hair was lightly brown and slightly spiked. He wore a pair of blue jeans, combat boots and a black shirt under a bulletproof vest.
Voice:“Mr. Moren? Can you hear me?”
A man stepped into the frame dressed in a fine armani suit buttoned at the wrists and down the chest. His hair was also light brown and he was completely clean shaven. Over his chest and stomach appeared the words.
Sativa Nevaeh As Leann Perry
Zachary Sears as Trevor Perry
The camera shifts to the man sitting strapped to the bench and slowly his head comes up and he blinks. There were no injuries or hints that he had been beaten immoble to make restraining him possible. The way he licked his lips and the dull expression in his eyes said, he’d been drugged.
Lluvia Cane as Leslie Moren
Maiko Adachi as Lady
Restrained Man: “Where am I?”
Unknown Man: “On the way to your destination. We just need to get some formalities out of the way.”
Restrained Man: “Do what you gotta do.”
Unknown Man: “Please state your name for the official record.”
The man seated on the bench licked his lips and coughed looking up into the face of the man standing in front of him.
Restrained Man: “Jonathan Moren.”
Unknown Man: “And you are entering The City of your own free will? Knowing there is no guarantee of victory or survival?”
John Moren:“I am, yes.”
Unknown Man: “Please state your prize for the record.”
John Moren:“An all access medical pass.”
Unknown Man: “Thank you….”
Two large men in all black body armor stepped around the man from each side. Their faces were covered by a black helmet and viser that hid their faces. The two men unshackled John from the bench and helped him to his feet. As they did the unidentified man stepped to the door of the chopper and pulled the door open.
The outside of the chopper reveals they were no longer hovering only an empty interstate but a few feet over a roof, the huge colossal wall surrounding The City stood imposing just beyond the roof. The two men moved John to the edge of the chopper and the unidentified man spoke loudly over the roar of the blades.
Unknown Man: “One month Mr. Moren. Have your pass when you arrive at the east gate in no less than 30 days from today, to the second. Good luck.”
The man turned and without warning the two men with him shoved John hard in the chest and he was pushed from the Chopper door. The camera watched him hit the roof hard, back first, and one of the men tossed a large duffle back from the chopper and the door slammed shut.
THE CITY
EPISODE 1
"The Game Begins!"
**
One hour earlier.
**
The shot shifts into the hallway of a building somewhere. The wall paper was shabby and coming off in places. The carpet was an ugly brown color and covered in stains. One of the doors in the hallway opens and a pair of high heel boots comes through the door and it closes again.
The shot follows the boots walking down the hallway, but only a short distance before turning and another door pushes open. The shot follows the figure in and raises up a pair of toned calves in a pair of tight black pants and a top that hugged her back and spine. Black hair spilled down her back and tanned shoulders.
The camera continues up until it catches a pair sitting side by side on the couch. A woman with light brown hair dressed in a simple black top and a brown skirt with her legs crossed and a man with dirty blonde hair with and wearing a simple white t-shirt and blue jeans sat beside her.
Woman walking in: “They introduce him yet?”
Woman on the couch: “No. They just announced a new entrant into the City though so it can’t be long.”
The woman dropped a small bag of what appeared to be aluminum cans on the floor beside the woman sitting on the end of the couch and plopped down beside the blonde man. As she did the man in the expensive suit from the helicopter appeared on the screen. Below him was the name “Phillip Lamont” and he flashed a huge smile. Beside him in a small corner of the screen was the face of John Moren.
Black haired woman jumped and slapped the man beside her on the arm.
Dark haired woman: “There he is! There he is!”
Phillip Lamont: “Welcome back ladies and gentlemen. As I promised you earlier this morning, we have a new entrant entering The City shortly. He has one in a thousand odds at completing the challenge, but as you all know, many people with worse odds have completed before.”
Light haired woman: “Boo! You don’t know what the hell you're talking about!”
The woman threw a handful of popcorn from a bowl in the man beside hers lap at the screen, but of course it didn’t seem to phase the smiling man.
Phillip Lamont: “His name is John Moren. He is from the second continent and will be undertaking the challenge of City One. John is 28 with no children and no spouse. Both his parents are deceased. He served, as you all did, his one year of mandatory Defense Force service when he was 22 but other than that he’s a man of very little merit or record.”
The light haired woman sitting on the frowned at the screen and glanced over at the woman sitting on the other end of the couch.
Light haired woman: “Leslie, didn’t he say he was away for….six years when he did his service?”
Leslie Moren: “Yup. Left when he was twenty-two and came back the day he met you actually.”
Unknown Man: “Why would they get that wrong Leann?”
Leslie Moren: “I have no idea Trevor....”
The light haired woman chewed her lip as she stared at the screen. The lack of truthfulness about John’s military record concerned her. Were they lying? Or did they just...not know? How could that even be possible?
Phillip Lamont: “Now, I know that most of you know this….but in case some of our viewers tonight are just becoming of viewing age and being allowed to view this channel so allow me to fill you in. Twenty years ago when the world fell into famine and violence the world government was created. Everyone, like Mr. Moren, is required to do one year of Defense Force service to protect everything we have built from the agitators.”
As the man spoke the picture of his face had changed to dated pictures of hundreds of people standing in lines for soup kitchens, more of crop failures and more yet of riots in progress before finally changing to an army of people in black body armor and those black visored helmets.
Phillip Lamont: “Two cities on each continent were chosen to be emptied and walled off. Those who are deemed undesirable are sent to the City and never allowed to leave. Now, our great chancellor knows we cannot simply abandon these people so air drops of food and medicine are regularly dropped. The same per populace as every other citizen. No weapons however are dropped inside. The weapons you will see from the video feeds have been acquired by the miscreants inside. They found a way, against all odds, to arm themselves.
When a person feels that their family is not getting enough food or that they have a medical ailment that will not be covered by the World Medical Plan they can enter the City and go through the challenge. Thirty days inside The City of their choosing and if they escape with their pass? They get it, no questions asked.”
The screen then came to show flashes of dozens of families all sitting around dinner tables filled with foods of every kind and others flashing smiles and thumbs up from a gurney as they got prepped for surgery.
Leslie looked over at the man sitting between him and Leann. He looked a little paler than usual as he sat back and watched. Leann reached out and took his hand, their fingers interlocking. Leslie smiled and looked back at the television.
Phillip Lamont: “Now, inside each of the cities are thousands of cameras, each one controlled twenty-four hours a day by our dedicated staff so you, the citizens of the world, can view and track the progress of your loved ones and your bets as you see fit. Each person who enters is assigned their own channel giving you all watching at home the ability to track each contestant twenty-four hours a day.
And lastly we have a channel dedicated to the hundred cameras that we have inside the tower leading to the exit of the City. We will be here, on channel 101 with all the play by plays from all of those contestants currently doing their runs.”
The screen flashes to a video of a dark skinned man with long dreads throwing a middle aged man over the bar of a boarded up bar, then shifted to a woman dressed in what appeared to be clown paint in a skirt holding an ax. Two others in make up were holding a pale skinned middle aged man by the arms as she swung the ax for his head but the camera cut back to Phillip just as it was about to connect.
Leslie Moren: “Jesus….”
Leslie Moren: “This is gonna get intense isn’t it….?”
Leslie Moren: “You know the reason Le….”
Phillip Lamont: “So, before we sign off for the evening we would like to announce that John Moren will be replacing Trent Howard on channel 104. Thank you all and goodnight.”
Leanna quickly looked over at Leslie who was fumbling with the remote control.
Leslie Moren: “Quick! 104!”
Leslie Moren:“I’m going! I’m going!”
Leslie hit the buttons on the remote and a shot of a rooftop came into view. A helicopter was flying away from the camera over the wall and disappearing into the setting sun. All three of them leaned forward and bit their lips as John on the screen rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself up with one hand while grabbing the large duffel bag with the other.
**
John pushes himself up to a knee groaning from the aching spreading down his back. He presses his free hand into the small of his back and zips the duffel bag open with the other. He begins to pull the contents out by bye one.
A box with two dozen MRE’s, A long bladed hunters knife in a leather sheath, a plastic bag with matches, a small pack of batteries and cloth, a long mag like flashlight, a first aid kit and finally a box filled with half a dozen bags of water. Enough supplies to last a little less than a week.
He loaded the bag back in and slung it over his shoulder. He moved to the edge of the roof and looked down over the city with the shoot shifting out to show the huge sprawling wreckage that was City One. The sky rises were littered with broken windows, most of the buildings at street level were boarded up and fires littered the street.
John Moren:“Gotta get to street level. Everyone for a dozen blocks saw that drop-off.”
John turned and hurried across the roof to the small door leading into the building proper. The building itself appeared to be abandoned with doors broken or removed from the hinges. Trash and litter filled the halls and judging by the way John wrinkled his nose it didn’t smell all that pleasant.
The shot follows John down the stairs taking them quickly and when he reached the first floor a large wooden object came flying around the corner aimed to take the man across the face but John turned his shoulder letting the wooden board hit the duffel bag instead. An older dark skinned man came into the room as a bald pale skinned man pulled the board back for another blow.
Bald Man: “Give us your fucking supplies!”
The dark skinned man came forward without a word and threw a right hand, but John caught him by the wrist, planted his other hand into his stomach and turned, lifting him off his feet in one smooth fluid motion. The man hit the wall behind John full force, fully horizontal and landed hard on the floor.
The man with the board swung again and John grabbed his wrist as he had the first man, pinning it back above his head against the wall. He grabbed the man by the jaw with his other hand without so much as speaking a word then turned yanking him by the wrist and neck and threw him full force into one of the half rotten doors.
The door explodes into a thousand pieces with the man hitting the floor beyond covered in debris. John turned and hit the stairs at a sprint. When he reached the first floor he planted a hand into the railing and jumped over the edge.
He came down in a kneel as three other men came through the doors. The three of them charged John and he tossed the duffle bag at them as hard as he could. The bag hit their chests sending two of them men into one another where they fell in a tangle of limbs.
The other man never breaks stride and swings a pipe for John’s head but he drops into a duck, pivoting around and driving an elbow into the man’s stomach. Shooting up he hit the man in the face with such force he was lifted into the air and came down on the wooden counter of what appeared to be a old hotel lobby counter.
The edge of the counter snaps when the mat hits the rotting wood, the broken end sticking up into a jagged point. The two other men grab John from behind and drive his chest hard into the counter. One of them grabs him by the hair and moves to drive his head down into the bar top but John plants one forearm into the counter and throws his other arm back taking one of the men clean in the face.
The man staggers back blood running down his face and John doesn’t even stop his turn, spinning, ripping out a small handful of his hair but he grabs the other man by the head. He kicks a leg out taking the man’s legs out from under him driving him downward as he does. The man’s face met the jagged wooden spike sticking out from the countertop and he collapsed lifeless next to the man who had gone through it.
John slowly turns around breathing hard through his nose and his eyes fall on the one man who remained. The man stood in the center of the room holding his bloody face staring at John as if he was standing in the room with a live lion, wide eyes in panic. John’s eyes shift to the broken windows near the front of the building just in time to see a girl with brown hair yanking his bag through the hole.
John Moren:“HEY!”
Man: “Look man….Look….you don’t need to….”
John marched toward the door of the building and the man turned and bolted through it. The camera watched him disappearing down the street screaming in dread then turned to watch John walk out stone cold calm without a mark on him. He turned and looked down an ally beside the building and found it empty.
The girl was gone.
**
From the moment the helicopter pulled away she knew she only had a little time. The ruffians of the city would descend on the contestant and if they managed to kill them and she was careful enough she might just be able to get away.
She slipped from her home across a hall balcony leading from one building to another and down through the maze of rooms half choked off with old furniture and trash. When she finally made it to the ground level the main lobby of what was once an apartment building was completely sealed. No way in and no way out.
That was until she dropped to her knees and pushed open a small section of the wall and crawled through what was in essence a trap door. Once she was through and the small door was closed, the wall appeared whole again. As though no such trap door existed.
She snuck through the filth covered alley and as she neared the corner she could hear the sounds of a fight happening inside the lobby of what had once been a hotel. A man with short brown hair was fighting nearly a half dozen men and winning. Becca crouched near the broken glass of the window on the side of the door leading into the building and watched the fight in slight awe.
It wasn’t like any of the martial arts her father had always read to her as a child. This was different. There were no jumps or knees or kicks. This was more...brutal. More impact oriented. This was meant to incapacitate someone as quickly as humanly possible with minimal effort. When the man went after the final attacker standing she slipped in through the broken window and grabbed the strap of the duffle bag.
Voice: “HEY!”
She looked up to find the man looking at her and ducked back through the window without a word. She scrambled to her feet and scurried back the way she had come up the alley. When she neared the apartment building she dropped into a slide, the trap door closing just as the man had come to the mouth of the alley.
Becca presses herself up against the wall while the camera shifts to the other side of it to show the brown haired John Moren as he slowly walks down the alley, his eyes scanning the buildings looking for some kind of hole she could have disappeared into.
It comes back to Becca who breathed a sigh of relief and crossed the entrance way of the apartment building. She climbed the stairs and navigated the maze of furniture and trash up through the floors until she came to the floor with the connected balconies. She slipped through the window and onto the balcony before making her way across the connected buildings. As she disappeared into the building that had always served as her safehouse the camera tilts down.
Far below her was the alley from a block over and John Moren stepped out of the shadows between two large overflowing dumpsters, his gaze locked up on the small opening the girl had disappeared into.
**
The shot shifts to another street somewhere in The City to the sound of someone panting and shoes pounding on the asphalt. A set of legs wearing a pair of faded, soot covered jeans came into frame followed quickly by a blood stained t-shirt. The man ran down the street revealing long dreadlocks flowing behind him as he ran.
The street was littered with broken down cars, many of them with shattered windows or outright completely destroyed. The buildings were much the same, burnt out or left with shattered windows. The only constant in the world seemed to be the graffiti that covered everything.
Cars. Buildings. The street. Everything.
As the man ran the hoots and hollers of others began to echo through the streets matched with the sound of a combustion engine. The man’s head spun around, his eyes fearful and concerned as he looked in the direction of the roar of the engine.
The man sprinted across the street and ducked into one of the buildings. The building's interior had multiple overturned and destroyed tables and chairs with a counter along the back wall and a huge mirror behind the counter.
A bar.
The man sprinted across the room and vaulted the counter just as the lights of a vehicle appeared in the doorless opening. The sound of multiple doors opening was heard followed by feet hitting the ground. Two men and a woman walked around toward the front of the car, illuminated by the vehicle's lights.
The two men were normal enough, dressed in mismatched shoes, patchwork jeans and black loose fitting tops, but the woman was another story. Her hair was black that turned into an orangish blonde halfway down and pulled into twin pigtails. Her face was made up in a mixture of a skull and a clown. Atop her head was a bow, of sorts but made of some type of skin. She wore a white top that hugged her breasts and a frilly skirt that hung over her shoulders with suspenders and ended in around mid thigh. Below the skirt were a pain of black and white striped stockings, stained with blood and black boots.
And in her hand was a vicious looking modified fire axe.
The shot shifts to the other side of the bar and the dark skinned man pressed against the wood trying his best not to breathe. The sound of the boots thudding on the floor announced the woman’s presence within the bar proper and the camera slowly came up over the bar to find her eyes scanning the room, an insane smile on her painted face.
Woman: “RRRABBBIITTT! OHHHHHHH RABBBBITTTT! Are you here, Rabbitt? You can’t run forever, Rabbit….I will find you. And we’ll play….oh how we will play.”
The sound of the boots came again as the woman stepped to just on the other side of the bar, only a few mere inches from him. Suddenly a loud crashing THUD rang out and he pressed his hand over his mouth to keep quiet. The camera moves up to show the fire ax now embedded in the wood of the bar.
Woman: “You can’t hide from me forever, Rabbit. You’re late….for a very important date.”
The woman let out an insane cackle at the joke. She rips the axe from the wood and braces to jump up onto the bar when a voice called out from the doorway.
Voice: “Blink’s calling for us, Lady.”
The woman spins around, her insane eyes wide in outrage.
Lady: “Now?! Oh, of all the….”
The woman turned and marched back through the bar, muttering to herself about not getting to have any fun. The camera shifts back to the man, leaning wild eyed against the bar as the sound of the car doors closing was followed by the engine roaring as it pulled away. The man breathed a deep sigh of relief and pulled a small square laminated card from his back pocket. It was black with the exception of the words “Travel pass.”
Man: “10 more days. Ten more days and we can be together….”
**
The shot shifts from the bar to the inside of what appeared to be a bank vault. The metallic boxes that had once housed people's most valuable items were broken open and the stacks where the paper currency was once held stood empty and dust covered.
The person who used it however chose to do so not because of money or some notion of the way things used to be, but for the fact that the small fire that was burning inside couldn’t be seen by anyone outside the building.
The vault housed a simple small tent that had been handmade years before. In front of the tent sat a small fire with a small metal rack sitting on top of a handful of bricks with a flat cooking sheet sitting on top of the rack. A coffee percolator sat beside a small handful of small meat chunks on the cookie sheet.
Sitting in front of the fire was a woman with delicate features and beautiful shimmering blonde hair. Or it would have been beautiful once upon a time. Now it was dirty, unwashed and more than a little unkempt.
Her face was dirty and she had a large healing cut on the left side of her upper lip, as if someone had slapped or backhanded her. Through all of the things she had been through however she had a look of resolve in her eyes. They were narrowed on the fire as she chewed the mouthful of charred meat slowly.
Swallowing down the mouthful she turned her eyes to the door of the vault that sat open by only a small fraction of a foot. As she did she pulled a small square laminated sheet the size of a man’s wallet and ran her fingers absentmindedly over it.
The camera came down and the words “Pediatric Medical Pass.”
**
Leslie Moren: “Where did he go!?”
The woman demanded and slid to the edge of her seat. John had stepped into the shadows between the two dumpsters and disappeared. The screen on the television stayed on the alley hinting that the technicitions that were working on keeping the contestants in view were having some trouble locating him.
Leslie Moren: “Check the other channels?!”
Lelsie did as the brown haired woman asked and began to flip through the official channels for City One. A dark skinned man with dreads was stealthily sneaking out of what appeared to be a bar and hurrying up the street as she changed the channel quickly. On the second was a woman in what appeared to be a bank vault who was settling down to get some sleep. She flipped again and a red haired woman appeared sitting in what appeared to be a tree of some kind. She was disheveled, but appeared to be calm.
From there she changed channels nearly three dozen times. Some showed an empty street or an empty building. Some showed rooms filled with people huddled around a fire. One appeared to show a woman in what appeared to be clown make up walking into what appeared to be a casino and where dozens and dozens of people were waiting for her and another yet showed a single huge man sitting behind a desk. He was bearded and as thick as a tree trunk leaning back smoking a cigar. The channel changed right as the head of a blonde woman came up from beneath the desk.
The rest of the channels showed people in their homes eating what little food they had and empty streets. She flipped back to the channel marked specifically for John and found that it was still on the alley.
Trevor Perry: “How can he have just disappeared?! What about all those cameras they were talking about?”
Leann Perry: “How did he do any of the shit we just saw Trevor?!”
Leanna turned her attention to Leslie sitting on the other side of her.
Leann Perry: “What was that? Did you know about any of that?”
Leslie Moren:“No, I can't say I did. To be honest, it was as much of a surprise to me as it was to you. John was always the gentle type when we were growing up. You saw him when he came back, he was quiet….studious.”
Trevor Perry:“I wouldn’t exactly call that studious…”
Leslie let out a little shrug and rose from the couch where the three of them sat. She stretched and let out a happy, even pleasurable groan as the sore muscles of the small of her back arched.
Leslie Moren:“I’ll keep an eye on it from my room but I think I am gonna turn in. I Just wanted to make sure he got inside safely. You and your brother have a good night.”
Leann rose from the couch herself and the two women embraced. She walked the olive skinned woman to the door, locking it behind her before returning to the couch and joining the man still seated on it.
Now that the pair were alone they both looked a little concerned. Trevor had switched to the main government channel that was showing a replay of everything that had happened the last couple of hours, including the incident when John arrived.
Trevor Perry:“This might be a problem, Le….”
He said, obviously troubled and she reached out and took his hand in her own.
Leann Perry:“Whatever problems we may run into, Trev, we will deal with them together. As we always have.”
The man beside her gave a small smile and raised her hand kissing the back of it gently.
Trevor Perry:“Together.”
He agreed.
**
The girl's guard visibly dropped once she got into her safe space. She made her way through the halls past a room with a closed door that she ran her fingers over, as if she were saying hello without actually saying hello and continued on to the next door in the hall.
The door opened to reveal a room cleaner than anything anyone had seen. In the corner were brackets for what had once been a camera but no camera was anywhere in sight. There were drawings made from crayon on the walls with polaroid pictures of a man, a woman and a brown haired girl scattered throughout them.
A small corner of the room was filled with packets of water and food, both MRE and canned. A bed, unkempt and unmade, sat in the other corner. The girl walked to the corner where the food was neatly stacked and dropped the bag with a happy sigh.
She pulled off the black sweatshirt she was wearing and tossed it onto a pile of dirty clothes revealing a pretty purple spaghetti strap top underneath.
As she went on about her business and the camera followed her around it became clear she was a bit older than she originally appeared, perhaps seventeen or eighteen but she held a childlike innocence about her look.
She moved back across the floor and eased the door closed. Once it was closed she drew a string across the floor in front of the door and then placed an empty 2 liter bottle filled with coins of various denominations on the doorknob. Once these were done she let out a big yawn and moved to the corner of the room and crawled into bed.
The shot stayed on the girl as she drifted, moving over to an opening in the blockage of the window to reveal the faintest glimmer of the moon moving to signal the time running forward. As the shot shifts back to the girls sleeping form her eyes suddenly shoot open when the sound of the silence is broken by what sounds like the rattling of coins on plastic.
Her eyes moved to the door and found the bottle still balanced on the door knob and the room completely quiet. Her eyes scanned the room and found nothing out of place. She slipped from the bed, bare feet touching the floor and silently crossed the room. She didn’t move to the door, but instead to a corner of the room near the door and dropped to her hands and knees. Like the other buildings entrance she pushed the bottom of the wall and it folded back, cut to create a small crawl space.
She emerged on the other side of the wall and rose to a crouch. The hallway was empty with only the night air to greet her. Nothing appeared to be out of order. With a faint shrug she returned to her room, while the shot stayed on the hallway. Inside the room the sound of the bed springs depressing announced she had returned to bed.
As she did a figure emerged from the darkness of one of the rooms that sat open without a door on the hinges. John Moren stood just barely visible in the shadows of the room staring at the spot she had just disappeared back into as he raised one of the small bags of water to his mouth and drank. One of the bags from the shelves inside her room.
The shot changes to a view of outside the apartment building next to the girls safe house, the sun now high over the horizon revealing the finer details of the street. It was filthy, covered in bits of dirt, mud and other various pieces of debris with the ruins of cars littering the street.
The trap door opens and the brown haired girl emerges holding the now empty duffle bag that had carried all of John’s supplies. She quickly glances back and forth across the street to ensure it was safe. Once she was sure of her safety she began down the street away from the hotel that had been used as the landing spot for the contest's newest contestant.
She made it three blocks over when the sounds of car engines caused her to duck behind the fence of one of the abandoned houses. She watched as a woman with fiery red hair sprinted down the street and turned between a couple of houses two houses down from where she hid.
As soon as the girl vanished a pair of cars rounded the corner. They rode slowly down the road as their occupants scanned the street for their quarry. The girl sucked in a deep breath and whispered to herself.
Girl: “Misfits….”
Man from inside one of the cars: “I know she came this way! Lady wants her found!”
Girl: “Lady….”
There was a clear fear in her voice as she mentioned the name. The cars slowed to a stop and the doors opened followed by the sound of feet on the ground. The girl peaked from between the slats in the fence and watched the group of men emerge from the car and begin to look through the bushes, buildings and alleyways.
She hugged the fence until she was sure it was clear and then turned, walking on her hands and knees untils he reached the house's edge then stood and began toward the rear of the house. When she reached the halfway point the shadow of someone approaching from the street ahead of her appeared and she froze. Glancing behind her and found the shadow of another person falling over the fence line she had just been hiding behind.
With no real time to spare she looked up and found a small window leading into the house. Quickly scrambling up she climbed through it and dropped soundlessly into the darkness on the other side. She pressed her back to the wall and listened to the two men approaching from each side of the house.
Male Voice: “Any sign of her?”
Male Voice #2: “No, not even a foot print.”
Male Voice: “She’s proven to be good at hiding.”
Male Voice #2: “Hiding or not it’s only a matter of time before Blink or Lady find her.”
Male Voice: “Why do they even want her?”
Male Voice #2: “You know why idiot.”
Male Voice: “Grenport….”
Male Voice #2: “Grenport. Salar pays a premium for passes.”
Male Voice: “I wish Blink would stop doing business with him…”
Male Voice #2: “Why? You’re not afraid of Felix are you?”
Male Voice: “God damn right I am! You should be too.”
Male Voice #2: “Why? It’s not like….”
The voices trailed off and the girl breathed a deep sigh of relief. She stayed pressed to the wall as the sound of an engine roaring to life and then disappeared into the distance. Letting out another deep sigh she crossed the dark room to the door leading deeper into the house and pushed it open.
As she passed through the doorway she found herself staring into the chest of a man dressed in a pair of black jeans and a tye dye jacket. She slowly looked up and the two locked eyes as a slow grin spread over his lips.
Man: “Hello there, Girl.”
The girl turned and bolted the way she had come. When she reached the window she jumped for it and nearly made it through before a hand grabbed her ankle. The hand pulled back trying to dislodge her from the window but the girl kicked both feet hard, the unheld foot catching the man in the face with a sickening crunch.
Suddenly one hand became three and with a hard series of yanks the girl was pulled from the window and landed on the floor with a thud. She rolls onto her back and looks up to find the man in the tye dyed jacket staring down at her. Blood was running down his face and beside him stood two other men, each wearing black jeans and simple black t-shirts.
Man: “Little fucking bitch!”
The bloody faced man snapped and lashed out a kick catching the girl in the face. She collapsed back on the floor with a pained outcry. The men took her by the arms pulling her up to her feet. She let out a frightened whimper looking up into the faces of the men and saw only one thing shining back.
Violence.
The sound of a knife ringing free from its home rang out. When she saw the knife she lashed out and tried to break free only for the man whose nose she had broken to grab her by the wrist and twist. He extended her arm with an audible crack and she let out a scream of pain. It wasn’t broken, but it was close.
The blade was pressed to her throat as the creek of the floorboards just outside the room brought the men’s attention to the door.
Bloody Faced Man: “Think that could be her?”
The man not holding the knife on the girl shrugged and disappeared through the door to check it out. The camera shifts out to the main living room of the house and the man stepping from the room. He turned and cleared the doorway leaving the view of the two other men when another figure appeared.
A tall figure with light brown hair stepped into frame behind him and locked his arms around the man’s neck. The man couldn’t make a sound as the air was choked off. The camera shifts up to the face to reveal John Moren. There was a look in his eyes as the shot came in close. This wasn’t new to John and it showed. His expression was blank and emotionless as he felt life slipping from the man.
The shot shifted back to the inside of the room as the two men looked to the doorway as if they expected their companion to come back, but no one appeared.
Bloody Faced Man: “Ricky...you alright?”
The girl shifted her terrified eyes between them and the door as no answer came from beyond it. The bloody faced man stepped into the doorframe while the other kept the blade pressed to the girls throat, His eyes fell on the motionless body on the floor as John appeared in the frame behind him in a crouch.
He turned pulling a knife from his belt but John caught his wrist. John brought his arm up into the man’s elbow, which broke with an audible crack, and brought the arm downward driving the blade into his hip and side. The man let out a pained scream as the blade drove in and John threw his head forward in a headbutt while at the same time shoving the man backwards into the room.
The man hit the floor between John and the man holding the girl unconscious. Moren stepped into the room, his eyes focused not on the man, but on the girl.
John Moren: “You okay, Kid?”
All she could do was stare at him wide eyed as the man pressed the blade harder into her throat. As if the fact that the man had even asked her that shocked her. When she didn’t answer John turned her gaze to the man holding the blade to her throat. He just stared him square in the eyes until the man tossed the girl aside to the floor and rushed him.
He swung for a slash to the face that John ducked. As the man passes him John hits a left handed punch to the stomach and then a right to the face as he stands. The force of the blow spins the man around and John kicks his foot into the back of the man’s leg while yanking back on his shoulder as he steps forward.
The man hits the ground back first and looks up just in time to see John’s foot coming down. The stomp connects with the man’s face with a sickening crunch of bones breaking and the Misfit goes completely still other than the occasional death twitch.
John steps over him without a word and looks down at the brown haired girl lying on her side on the ground. She turned her eyes up at him, blood running down her lip from where the man had kicked her. She flinched when John’s arm moved only to look up in shock when she saw he was holding out a hand for her.
She reached out a shaking hand, placed it in his and let him help her to her feet. Never once did she take her eyes off his face.
Girl: “Why...would you help me?”
John Moren: “Grown men shouldn’t be hurting teenage girls.”
He explained, turning to actually spit down on the body of one of the unconscious men.
John Moren: “That...hits a particular cord for me.”
Girl: “But I took your pack….”
John Moren: “Still not an excuse to hurt a teenage girl like that.”
The girl took her lip between her teeth and slowly withdrew her hand from his.
John Moren: “I’ve been watching you since you took the bag. You seem to know your way around.”
She blinked and looked back at the window she had climbed in as if remembering the rattling of the bottle the night before.
Girl: “...Maybe I do.”
John Moren: “Maybe we can make a deal.”
She looked back at him, suspicion clear in her eyes.
Girl: “What kind of a deal?”
John Moren: “Help me get my bearings in City One. Give me a safe place to find out what I’m dealing with and point me in the directions of supplies I can use to last the month.”
Girl: “And what do I get in return?”
John Moren: “I’ll give you half of everything I can scavenge.”
Girl: “Half? Of everything? For advice and a safe room?”
John just gave a nod and the girl took her lip between her teeth. Finally she nodded and he held his hand out again. This time not to help her up, but to shake on their agreement.
John Moren: “I’m John by the way.”
She looked down at the hand still biting her lip but finally reached out and took his hand.
Girl: “Becca. But you can call me Bec.”