The City Named Ashfront
« Name? » The man guarding the main entrance asks me monotonously.
« Richard Gumboot. » I answer with a smile.
The man turns his head to me and gives me an annoyed look.
« Name. » He repeats as he crosses his arms.
« Didn't Barrund teach you humor? You know my name, Sade. What, you scared I'm a skin walker or something?»
« Its protocol, Slink. And for the skin walker part, who knows. You do have the habit of hanging outside the walls after all. Who knows what those horrors are able of. » His eyes look away as if he has seen said horrors, which he hasn't.
« I do. I study them, to be able to survive out there. Will you let me out now? »
He looks at me annoyedly and simply nods towards the door, I'm free to go.
I am welcomed outside by the refreshing smell of the slums, which is composed of urine, decay and trash. As always, it is a sad looking place. Most homes are falling appart, some doors and windows replaced by plastic sheets and some people resting in sleeping bags on the side walk. This city used to prosper, people happy and well fed, before the invasion. Ah, the invasion. It happened a few years before my birth. Everyone thought humanity would perish- but no. Governments allied their military forces and resources and made fortresses out of agglomerated cities and only two years later, society was stable again, kinda. I always lived in Ashfront, one of the most important fortresses. Who says important fortress says poverty and who says poverty says criminal syndicate. You could say the mamba group is a syndicate, but it is more than that. Nearly anyone is able to join, as long as you are able to provide some use. Some people would rather die than join it, though. Unpleasant memories flash through my brain and I shake my head.
After a while, I am now walking up the stairs to a small apartment's door and knock on it. Slow steps slowly came closer to the door to welcome me. An old and kind looking woman stands in the doorway.
« Slink! Right on time, I finished my bread and milk this morning. » she says before hurriedly getting prepared to go out.
I smile, knowing well no one in this district could afford bread and milk.
« I was short on cash, thought I could swing by and fatten my wallet, you know? » I say to Garria, who is now locking her door.
« Ha! Honest as always, my boy. » she says as she starts going down the stairs with me, leaning on my arm.
As we start heading for the nearest grocery store, she hands me a Solaris. When I moved to mamba quarters, I had no money and only survived on the meager rations they gave the younger rescues. I sometimes went outside to try and find some abandoned food, which used to happen on occasions before. Garcia had seen me look around for food and told me she'd hire me for protection on her trip to the grocery store. Of course, I was too small and weak to really offer any protection but I still offered an extra pair of arms to carry her bags back home. Nowadays, a solaris can barely buy you anything, but it used to be a pretty big deal to me. And so, I've been helping her get her groceries now and then since then. And, this was pretty much my only way to get real money, something to spend outside the mamba.
« I see you've got some fresh wounds. Still doing that scavenger job? » She asks me indifferently.
« Yeah. Not much else my skills could afford me for a job. » I say as I shrug.
« Come on! You are a capable young man. It's not good for me to monopolise your protection services. » She exclaims.
« You're right. I should start applying here and there. » I lie.
The truth was that anyone who tries employing a member of the mamba puts themselves in serious danger. She probably knows, but still "employs" me. The mamba probably knows of my little walks with her, but doesn't care to beat up an old woman who gives an occasional solaris to me. They know I can't survive with only that.
We speak about casual, unimportant stuff. The weather, the news, and such other mundane things. Soon we see the grocery store. In front of it are sitting two children, skinny and sick looking. I take an apple from my pocket and hand it to Garria.
« Found this on the ground. I'm not sure if you would want to eat that » I smile to her.
« Oh my! Are you trying to poison this poor old lady? After all I've done for you? Ah, I guess I'll hand it to these two polite looking younglings over here. » She hands it to the surprised kids.
« Wow! Thank you very much! » The two are very happy.
Truth is, anything organic is pure luxury. This apple was equivalent to fifteen solaris. I take the coin in my pocket and flip it at them, which they catch nimbly.
« Thanks sir! » They thank me quickly before returning their attention to the apple.
The inside of the grocery store is discouraging. The shelves are half empty and the prices are crazy. One synth biscuit is two solaris and a half. I can remember buying one with one solaris only, prices have more than doubled since then. A synth biscuit can feed someone for about a day, stocky water can provide someone with nutrients that are necessary for survival for around a week.
That was pretty much what the store had, and variations of it with different simulated flavors. Some were tilted « spicy meat biscuit » or « sweet cream stocky water! » but I can barely tell the difference when tasting them. Maybe people that survive on this can make the difference easier. Sadly, while it gives you enough to survive, it is far from being ideal health wise. While people always find creative way to cook these things, it's never even close to real food.
And that's why, I'll never give in and live like them.