Chapter 9

Aidan seemed to have regained his composure. It had taken all of our strength to prevent him from harming himself. Mom was able to administer a potent homemade opioid, which helped him relax.

"Thank you, Mrs. Rho," he murmured.

"How are you feeling?" Mom checked his temperature. "Your temperature is normal. Can you describe the pain?"

Aidan appeared to be half-delirious, but he remained conscious. "It's just... normal. You know... like a headache."

She used a stethoscope to listen to his chest and stomach, and also palpated his body and stomach. "Everything seems normal. Are there any other discomforts?"

"No," he weakly replied.

"How long have you been experiencing the headache?"

"I don't know. For a while?"

Mom pulled down his bottom eyelids and studied them. "They're a bit pale, but nothing out of the ordinary. I'll give you a prescription. The drugs should suppress your prostaglandin production and lessen the pain. If the pain persists for another week, I'll have to take your blood and do a more thorough examination."

Aidan smirked with his head bobbing, "Like mother, like daughter. Don't you think taking my blood is a bit too much, Mrs. Rho? I'm fine with stronger painkillers."

"If you keep taking painkillers, you'll become immune to their effect. They can also be addictive. Don't underestimate headaches. We have to get to the root of the problem." She disappeared inside her working chamber and left the three of us in the room.

His body had lost about half of its energy; his fingers were lifeless and drooping beside him.

"Stop being stubborn and let Mrs. Rho cure you," Nadia said as she took and stroked the back of his hand.

"Heh. Do as you wish. Let me sleep for ten minutes." He slid down and curled himself on the floor.

Nadia finally left him alone once he gave his consent, although reluctantly.

***

I stood before a framed picture of a maskless man in a white lab coat. He was my father. I stared at it for a while, taking in his caramel skin, blue eyes, and narrow nose - all of which I had inherited. Mom had told me I also had his hair, but in the picture, he had grey hair, so I wasn't sure.

"Mom, what are you doing?"

She looked up at me. "Oh! Are you going to the Public Store?"

It was Rationing Day, that time of the week when citizens retrieve their free rations from the government—five packages of food and one medium oxygen tank per person per week.

"Uh-huh. Why? Do you want me to buy something?"

She took off her glasses and turned to face me. She handed me a bulk of something in a transparent plastic bag.

"You'll be meeting the Bathories, right? Here are some vitamins for the twins. Tell Aid to take them twice a day, considering his condition. Also, remind him to come to me if the headache persists. It's been a week already."

Mom gave the twins free vitamins as gratitude for always sharing their supplies with us without their parents' knowledge. Thanks to them, we got to taste expensive tea, coffee, and higher-quality food.

"Roger that." I slipped the small bag into my inner jacket pocket and zipped it. "Anything else?"

"Did you take your vitamins?"

"Yep." I connected the gas mask valve to a small oxygen tank.

Mom disconnected the valve and replaced it with the medium tank. "I will only let you out if you're using this tank," she stated.

I sighed. "Alright, Mom."

***

On the way to the Public Store in Zone A, I encountered more brutal fights occurring here and there. I also noticed corpses on the street, but they were not the usual ones that died due to toxic air, starvation, or fights. Most of them had their eyes burst. Blood spurted out from their skin, which I suspected came from exploded veins. Their lips were cracked, similar to Varg's zombie wife.

As I rode further, the number of fights decreased. However, I unexpectedly stumbled upon an anomalous situation. The deformed corpses were ample, despite being in Zone A.

Such brawls didn't usually happen in the richest zone, especially by barbaric fighters capable of causing such gruesome deaths.

The main cause of death for the residents in Zone A was gas mask malfunction, which was a rare case. The other major cause of death would be intruders killed by the NSS guarding the gate.

I hit the accelerator and sped up.

The Public Store was crowded with people waiting to collect their free rations, and the pick-up booth was located on the second floor. The first floor was a store for the wealthy to spend their coins.

There were six people ahead of me in the line, and most of them appeared to be seasoned fighters. It was common for families to send their strongest member to collect supplies as they were attractive targets.

However, there were some rare exceptions, like the boy standing behind me. It was a huge risk to send a child to get supplies as some citizens valued their own and their loved ones' lives over those of young strangers.

But, still, some citizens would not harm children. This boy's family must bet on that.

"Where are your parents?" I asked curiously.

"I don't know," he replied, his eyes darting back and forth, indicating that he was lying.

His parents had probably fed him some believable lies, but he was too scared to tell the truth. They were most likely hiding in the safety of their home while sending this fragile child into battle with only his youth as his ultimate defense.

Can't say I blame them. In this situation, love was a luxury, and people would do whatever they could to keep their families from starving.

The boy probably had no one in his family strong enough to defend their rations, so he was their last hope.

"You've got to be kidding me?!"

An earsplitting shout caught my attention. It came from the pick-up booth—a big man with a bald head. His mask was self-made, like mine.

He was arguing with the woman tending the booth for a while. He even banged on the wall once.

Eventually, he walked away grumbling, "This is insane. This is unacceptable. No, this can't be. This can't be serious."

The next person also engaged in a brief argument before quickly giving up. It seemed like everyone in line was in dispute with the receptionist, and the commotion began to attract more people.

I tried to peek over the crowd, but I couldn't see much.

It became clear when it was my turn. First of all, this lady was annoying. She had this expression on her face that was looking down on us, and she only smiled at residents from Zone A as they passed by.

I bet this fat lady was a resident of Zone B or C, and she thought she was above us all, who groveled around free rations. It was ironic since she also received free government supplies.

Secondly...

"That'd be all," she said as she handed me five packages of food and a medium oxygen tank.

"Excuse me, I'm here to pick up rations for two people. Tesla Iota and Rho Iota. Zone E, second block."

She gave me an eyeball, then handed me two more packages of food without saying anything.

My blood began to boil. "Are you deaf? I said two people, not one and a half."

"I heard you just fine. New rule. Next," she replied, muttering under her breath, "Go rob your neighbors or something, you pig!"

Unfortunately for her, my hearing was exceptional. If I could hear the silent footsteps of my attackers, there was no way I wouldn't hear her loud insult.

I pounded on the steel barrier between us. There were square-shaped holes all over the barrier. I grabbed her collar and pulled her towards me until her cheek was pressed against the metal.

"Listen, lady, I don't appreciate your attitude. Know that I can break your neck with one finger. I could break through this steel barrier and crush your head slowly with my bare hands if you prefer a more theatrical approach. Now give me what I am owed, and I will show you mercy."

She gasped for air while tapping on the barrier. After struggling for a moment, she managed to say, "The Parliament reduced food rations for families to five packages two days ago. I'm giving you extra because we're still in a transition period."

"You should have told me that earlier," I said, pushing her back into her chair. She immediately began massaging her neck and coughing.

I grabbed the food packages with one hand and the oxygen tank with the other. "And keep this in mind, not all PIGS of the Copper Zone are as kind as I am."

***

The twins were waiting for me in the parking lot. I stretched my arms to show them the supplies.

"Can you believe this? The government is cutting rations in half. So it's true about the shortage? Wait, Aid, are you alright?"

Aidan was lying on my automobile with his arms crossed. His eyes were bloodshot.

To be continued...