Chapter 6
The next morning came, much like every morning on Mars. The Orbisun blazed its path through the sky above and the heat soaked into every surface below it. Griff woke up and felt a wave of disorientation crash into him. He was in a bedroom, but it didn’t look like any room he had ever rented. The scent of perfume hung in the air, and clung to lacey curtains that decorated the windows and posts that surrounded the bed.
Griff looked down to discover that his clothes were missing, then looked over to his left. Ellen was next to him, her eyes still closed. He studied her while she slept. Her face had the beginnings of age lines and her hair was a mess, but she wore it all so well. He sighed. It was exhausting loving him, but she did it anyway. Carefully he leaned over and kissed her forehead. Taking great care not to wake her, he slowly crawled out of the bed. It wasn’t out of respect for her, but out of his disdain for goodbye. The pain of leaving, the gaping knife wound left by leaving or losing someone was more than he could bear, so he carefully put his clothes on and moved downstairs, where he found the death eater already waiting for him.
“You said your goodbyes?” It asked him
“Yeah, best I could”, Griff responded.
Griff’s body language told it everything it needed to know.
“She deserves better,” it said.
“Mind your fucking business.” But Griff knew it was right.
He slowly turned around and looked at the door to the waystation. He shifted his weight back and forth slowly onto each foot as he stared at the entrance. His stomach swirled and he grabbed the door knob, twisting and pushing the door open in a single motion. Each foot weighed heavily as he slowly dragged them up the stairs. Life is so much simpler when you don’t have to say goodbye. Slowly he dragged his feet back to the entrance to Ellen’s room, and he stared once more at a door. He swallowed hard.
Dread gripped his heart,“What if she’s not there?” Of course he knew that wouldn’t happen. He would have seen her leave, and there was nowhere to go. It was days to the nearest civilization, Wilders and raptors made travel especially dangerous. His fingers gripped the knob carefully. A rock had formed in his gut, and he tried to swallow.
Fuck it. He muttered to himself as he opened the door.
A startled Ellen stood in the center of the room. She stared at Griff, tears in her eyes. Her hair piled up on her head in a curly mess, her robe clung to her body and accentuated everything beautiful about her. They stared at each other for a few seconds before she gracefully glided over to him, and with eyes full of tears she slapped him.
“Son of a bitch!” She whispered at him angrily.
“Ellen. I’m…” Griff choked back tears. He didn’t know what else to do so he hugged her. He pulled her in close and embraced her tightly.
“I love you.” He whispered to her.
They stood in that embrace for minutes, neither saying another word until finally she said, “I love you. You have to go. Just make sure you come back.”
Griff stepped back, his hands on her shoulders, and nodded. He kissed her forehead and turned back down the stairs. With his face hidden from her tears formed in his eyes.
Griff stepped back out into the hot Martian heat, “You fucking happy now?” He asked.
The Death Eater stared at him in silence for a moment before responding,
“Are you?”
“Fuck you.”
They climbed on to the bikes they took from the wilders and sped off to Sanctuary.
Griff was happy to have them- An all day affair cut to a little over half an hour.. Soon the walls of Sanctuary loomed ahead. Up until now Griff had forgotten that Sanctuary was walled in. This was getting to the edge of Raptor country, and as such the towns and cities needed to be barricaded. They rode their bikes towards the closed gate. Above the gate stood a man in a dirty old military uniform. He wore a duster, goggles, and a hat. A long-rifle was slung around his torso and hung freely. He eyed the dust-cloud until it drew nearer, and raised his rifle once the bikes got closer..
Griff and the death-eater rode to the gate and stopped, immediately cutting off the engines.
“Hey, now. What’s your names?” He asked. Griff couldn’t tell if he was young or old, and his accent was strange. Everyone’s accent was strange now, though.
The two travelers looked up to the man atop the wall. The orbisun blazed down forcing Griff to squint from below his hat, “Griff,” was the only response.
“And your friend. He got a name?” The guard continued to stare down, his hand gripped the rifle slung around his body, though nothing about his posture was overtly threatening.
“ He does,” Griff said, “But it don’t much matter.”
“I’ll decide what much mat-”
“I’m the sheriff, come from Utopia,” Griff interrupted, “I come to investigate a series of slayings, don’t make my job harder than it needs to be.”
“Slayings? As in… Murders?”
“Yeah.” The sheriff shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“Got a badge?”
Griff reached under his coat and unpinned the badge he wore, and tossed it to the guard. The man turned it over in his hands a few times. Griff wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he was sure he wouldn’t find it.
“All right, come on in,” The man said, “but keep your pet in line. The folks of Sanctuary ain’t taking kindly to no death eaters.” and with that the gate slowly opened.
“Well. We are here. What is next?” The Death Eater asked as they walked through the gate.
“First thing we do is find a room. Utopia isn’t like Sanctuary, though I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that.
“No. It is much more…” it’s voice trailed off, leaving a whispering echo in Griff’s head.
“Bullshit. The word is bullshit. The Remnants took control of this town and haven’t let go.” There was an edge to Griff’s voice.
“You don’t care for the Martian Federal Republic?” The Death Eater used its official title. Most people called them Remnants, but that was never the name the government itself used.
The two continued their walk down the dusty street. Plenty of onlookers stopped and stared, but none dared to open their mouths.
Griff looked down at his robotic arm, hidden under his jacket and glove. “Fuck ‘em. Fuck the government.”
The two walked in silence for a moment before the Death Eater spoke again, “But. Aren’t you the government?”
Griff looked over to the death eater and stared at it, “don’t you ever get tired of talking?”
The rest of the walk went by in silence, and soon they were standing before a hotel. A sign was nailed to the wall next to the entrance, with “EBs” scrawled across it in faded paint that ran in streaks before drying. Griff looked at the doors briefly, then to his traveling companion.
As tall as it was, the death eater couldn’t have looked any smaller standing outside the doors to the hotel. Griff stared at it and noticed how diminutive it looked in the arches as the red dust swirled round in the streets behind it.
“Nervous?” Griff asked as he watched.
“A bit. We’ve not been welcome here.” It pivoted, constantly scanning its surroundings.
“Give it enough time and I won’t be either.” Griff responded smirking, “anyway,” Griff continued, “Fuck it.” and he pulled the doors open and stepped inside.
The doors opened up into a spacious dining hall, with tables and chairs scattered throughout. A short weasley man with thinning hair and a slight and bent disposition stood at a counter, his face looking down at a notebook. The pair walked towards him, and as they approached a hairy hand shot up, a single finger pointing towards the ceiling while his mouth moved unintelligibly.
Griff looked at the finger thrust in his face, and at the scraggly slimy man that it belonged to, “Friend. I need a room. And if you have intentions of keeping that finger, I suggest removing it from my face.”
He didn’t look up, nor did he answer verbally, though he did quickly remove the hand from Griff’s face. He pushed some remnants of his stringy hair back and smoothed it over his balding head, after a few more seconds he looked up to Griff.
“Welcome to Eb’s! Finest hotel in all of Sanctuary!” Eb’s voice matched his appearance. It was light and bouncy, forced, with a higher pitched nasally quality that clawed at the ears.
“Are there other hotels?” Griff asked, partially curious, partially out of irritation at the man and his demeanor.
“Wouldn’t matter if there were, because Eb’s is the best! I’m Eb, proprietor of this establishment.”
Now that the man was looking up from his notebook Griff could see that he was likely almost a decade older than this man, and despite the poor writing outside he spoke well enough, and could clearly read.
“My friend and I need a room. Nothing fancy. Double if you have it, as neither of us want to spend another night on the floor.”
Eb looked from Griff, noticing the Death Eater for the first time. His face grew sickly and pale, his voice stammered as he spoke, “I.. Well.. That is – You see. Um. Well, Sir.”
Griff closed his eyes briefly, and could feel his jaws clench as he inhaled deeply through his nose. He tried to shut the stammering out, but found that only made it worse.
“It comes down to.. Well. Normally we would take your friend, but this isn’t normal times.” Eb’s voice stammered.
“How much?” Griff asked, ignoring the man.
“How much what?” Eb responded, his stammering finally under control.
Griff stared at him in silence.
“Oh. well.” Eb’s face was now coated in slick sweat, and he looked as awkward as he sounded. He glanced nervously around the room and his eyes locked onto Griff’s badge.
“Oh!” He exclaimed, “I didn’t. Well, that is to say. You are law?”
Griff was confused by the question, but did his best not to show it, “Yeah.”
“Remnant?” was Eb’s one word reply.
“Utopia. Independent.”, Griff responded. A nervous tension settled in as his suspicions grew.
“Oh! I see! Well why didn’t you just say so? Listen, You and your friend. Your room is on the house. But you will have to still pay your meals! Is that accommodating?” Eb looked pleased with himself, as if he’d just accomplished some major unspoken goal.
“Thanks.” Griff didn’t try to hide his distrust as he answered.
The death eater was still looking around the place nervously. Griff could tell that being back in Sanctuary wasn’t sitting well with it. He took the key from Eb, once again thanked him, and took the alien upstairs. The floors upstairs were covered in short, almost nonexistent carpet. Its gray color contrasted with the adobe colored walls and cream colored doors. Griff looked at the number tag attached to the key, walked down to the end of the hall to the room, and they entered.
“I don’t like this place.” The Death Eater said once they were inside.
“I could tell.” Griff said. He stepped into the room, found the longest patch of floor he could and began pacing it. He walked into and through anything in his path while he moved, clearing the walkway.
“You’ve had a twitchyness to you since we got here. That weasley bastard downstairs doesn’t seem to care for you, either.” Griff continued, sentences coming in stride.
The alien watched him. It wasn’t a nervous walk, instead he looked like a ball of energy ready to burst at any moment, and this was his way of channeling it.
“Are you all right?” It asked him.
“Huh?” Griff asked, surprised at the question.
The death eater stared as it sat down on one of the beds. After a few seconds of watching Griff continue his ritual it spoke, “The pacing. Are you all right?”
“Oh,” Griff responded, his head never looking anywhere but directly in his path, “yeah. I’m all right. Just processing. Nervous, I guess.”
“Nervous?” The term was one the Alien hadn’t come across yet, but it felt it could understand the concept.
“Yeah. Nervous. Trying to think about what to do. And that ratty little fuck Eb. I don’t like him. Why did he give us the room? He clearly didn’t like you, so why did my badge change his mind. Why did he give us a room?” Even more thoughts raced through Griff’s mind as he spoke.
“Perhaps he knows of you?” it asked.
This sentence struck Griff, and he drew in a deep breath of realization.
“Yeah, he’s working with them boys at the waystation.”
“You think he’s a bloodhound?”
“Just working with them, most likely, or whoever hired them..” Griff continued as he treaded his endless path.
“Which would mean…” It’s thought trailed off as it came to the same realization Griff had already come to.
“We are going to be attacked.” Griff said, never slowing his pace
“How draining is it to continuously scan for people?”
The alien stared at him. Griff still hated those white discs that pretended to be eyeballs, but he found he could at least stomach them now.
Why the fuck are they so god-damned creepy, Griff thought.
“To do it continuously would be pretty taxing. Doing it in short intervals with rest in between… Not so much.”
Griff walked back and forth, his fists started to clench and unclench in a rhythmic fashion as he walked.
“Okay. So instead… Wait. Go look out the window.” Griff spoke. He could have just as easily looked out, but he did not want to break his pace and cycle.
Confused, the death eater rose and peered out the window, doing its best to hide as it did it. “What am I looking at?”
“Is there anything out there I can climb up?” Griff asked.
“There are a couple of barrels, but you would have to jump and pull yourself up…” it responded.
As it spoke it turned to eye Griff. He wasn’t obese, but the constant drinking had given him extra weight. Enough extra weight that the death eater was doubtful of Griff’s ability to pull himself up through the window. Griff glanced up and saw the alien staring at him and immediately knew what it was looking at.
“Don’t worry about me. I can get my fat ass up and through the window.” he responded.
“So you’ll leave…” it said.
“And let Eb see me do it. Then come around…” Griff was cut off by the alien.
“And we wait in ambush to see if anyone comes.” it finished.
“Exactly. And it isn’t likely that anyone would come during the day, so we need to tackle this after dinner. Go down. Eat together. Really piss him off… Yeah.” Griff trailed off a bit as he walked, “That’s a plan.”
That evening they kept their dinner plans. The pair of them seated themselves at a table and sat in what onlookers felt was a deep and disturbing silence. Neither being at the table made a sound, instead utilizing the Death Eater’s ability to send and receive signals from the mind to communicate. It was over dinner that Griff finally got the whole story from the alien. He did his best to focus and listen, and at times found himself fidgeting and pumping his leg.
They sat and ate, and the rest of the room seemed to pretend as if they didn’t exist. The other patrons seemed to avoid walking near the table, and those nearby spoke in hushed tones as they snuck glances over at the freak sheriff and his aberrant pet. The presence of the death eater was unsettling enough, but paired with an unknown sheriff, some… Out-of-towner… It got the whispers flowing.
Eb watched as his waitstaff took care of the whole room. He watched as the two sat and ate their meal. He hovered in the room, He was a fly on the wall, waiting for some shit so that he could swoop in and lay claim to it.
Griff occasionally kept tabs on him throughout the meal, glancing over and even sometimes looking directly at him. The extra attention caused Eb to break out in a nervous sweat. They ate painfully slow, and seemed to spend days in the dining area. The greasy man pulled a dingy cloth from the pocket of his shirt and patted the pools of sweat with it.
He stared on as they finished their meal, and sighed in appreciation. But he didn’t stop staring, and the pair stood and began walking in his direction. Nervously Eb looked around for something to pretend to be doing. He found nothing, and instead just looked like a bumbling fool as they approached.
“Um. Yes, sir?” Eb asked. His head was looking down, but his eyes were nervously glancing up at the two.
Griff stared at the man. Thoughts of violence flashed through his mind, and he shoved them back down deep.
“Supplies. I need supplies.” Griff said plainly.
Eb breathed in a relieved sigh,”Well…” He trailed off briefly, “ You’ll want to head out, walk down the street… Turn left in two intersections… And on the right there’s a…. Well.. There’s a general store. The Reclaimer’s Market. They should have everything you need.” Sweat glistened from his forehead and his fingers pointed and walked as he explained everything to Griff.
Griff turned to the death eater, “I’ll get us supplies. You lock up and don’t open the fucking door for anyone. Got it?”
It nodded in response and Griff turned and headed out the door. Eb watched as Griff walked away, then awkwardly shouted after him, “Was the food to your liking, sir?” He then nervously watched as the alien lumbered back up the stairs towards their room.
The night air had a chill to it. For as unbearably hot as the days could get, the nights could feel almost as cold. Griff walked out and in the general direction of the Reclaimer’s Market, disappeared into an alley then slowly snuck his way back. He slunk into the dark alley his window had hung over, and crouched into a deep recess of night. He breathed in deep, pulling the cool air deep into his lungs. He had the patience of a saint. Except for when he didn’t. It didn’t take long before he found himself fidgeting, eyes darting in all directions, mind wandering to almost anything but the pain of waiting.
Minutes crept by, maybe hours. Griff didn’t know, he didn’t care. He just knew that sitting and doing nothing made his skin crawl. It was a driving force behind the constant drinking. It eased the tension. It made other facets of his life much worse, but when he was drunk he could simply exist.
“Are you always like this?” a voice whispered in his head. Griff looked up to see the alien sitting at the window. A hulking black silhouette framed by the ramshackle walls of the hotel.
“Like what?” Griff asked.
“Constantly moving. Always thinking.”
Griff sat for a moment. He considered telling the alien to mind its fucking business, but instead said, “Always.”
Silence followed for a few seconds.
“This isn’t normal.” it spoke again.
“Is that a fucking question, or a statement?” Griff asked,
“Both.” It responded before the quiet of night swallowed the conversation again.
“They are coming. I can feel them.”
“How many?”
“Three. Moving upstairs now. I’m going to hide.”
“I’m bringing my fat ass up now.” Griff said with a sigh as he stood. He clambered up the wall, and had he not had his arm this job would have proven near-impossible. He still had strength, but not nearly enough to pull his extra weight up unassisted. He reached the room, then quietly darted from the window to the door, where he pressed himself against the wall so that when the door opened he would be behind it.
He stared at the doorknob, his heart pounding. He glanced around the room, but couldn’t find the death eater anywhere. He guessed it was ducked behind the other side of the bed. The lights were off, and the darkness made it difficult to see anything anyway. His eyes moved back to the door knob and he waited. He could hear their footsteps coming up the stairs. They echoed softly through the halls as the men walked towards their unexpected doom. The noise stopped outside of the door. Griff could hear them talking, but couldn’t make out what was being said. Then they all laughed.
The doorknob slowly started turning. The door crept open. A sliver of light pierced the darkness, growing more and more as the door opened. A hand grasped the door. A foot entered the room. Soon the man’s whole body was in the room, and the only thing that separated him from Griff was the door between them.
Griff sat still, like a gator watching its prey. Waiting for the perfect time to strike. The man had almost fully moved past the door, and the second one was creeping in. Griff slammed his bulk into the door, knocking the second man back and into the third. He turned his body towards the first man, who had spun around at the startling noise. His eyes were wide, filled with fear. A savage front kick from Griff sent him sprawling and grasping for air. The death eater leapt from behind the bed and pinned him, searching him for weapons.
Griff then turned to the door, which hung slightly ajar, groaning and yelling echoed in the hall. He drew his pistol, ripped the door open and let two shots fly. The first hit one of his assailants square in the chest, followed by the second piercing his neck, sending sprays of blood across the hall, painting patches of the adobe a visceral red. The shots rang out, which ignited a clamor downstairs, but none of that was Griff’s concern. He looked to the third man, who was fumbling to retrieve his weapon. Fear had struck him and made him ignorant and clumsy. Two more shots and the same result.
The tension of the fight cleared and the sounds of commotion and excitement echoed up the stairwell. Griff peered over the bannister down into the main floor. Below him a mousey little man was scurrying to other patrons in an effort to keep them calm. Eb’s eyes chanced a glance up the stairs and his eyes met with Griff’s. Fear paralyzed him and he stared at Griff in a stupor. The idea of plugging two shots into Eb flashed briefly through Griff’s mind, but instead he turned and walked back into his room, shutting the door behind him.
“All clear?” The death eater asked as he entered.
“Yeah.”
The death eater crouched over the man. A revolver lie a few feet away, discarded like old trash. The man was still, his eyes closed, but he was mumbling to himself. The sound of Griff shutting the door, and his heavy footsteps towards the two caused the man to open his eyes and peer over.
“I… I don’t want to die.” The man said.
Griff stared down at him. Fear was his fuel, the only thing coursing through his veins.
“Yeah. Me neither.” Griff responded. He stared at the man, eyeing him, taking it all in. He noticed the Bloodhound badge on his chest and crouched down. He reached for it and casually removed it. Griff held the badge close and studied it for a few seconds, then tossed it next to the discarded revolver.
“Why?” Griff said.
The man was confused at the question. It sounded more like a statement, and he didn’t understand what was being asked.
“W… Why what?”
“Why did Eb call you in to attack us?”
The man’s mouth moved briefly, but no words came out. He struggled to find them despite searching. Finally he spoke, “We are only told the target. I don’t know who brought us in.”
Griff sighed. The death eater shifted its weight, then stood straight. This movement caused the man to flinch.
“Pl…Please don’t let your monster go rooting around in my head!” He stammered.
Griff was shocked by this request. He glanced at the alien standing over the man. It was standing, staring down. Griff could tell it was laughing at that comment.
“Yeah. Alright. But you gotta tell me…”
“Gideon Rimes!” The man blurted out, cutting Griff off. After the words left his mouth he looked immediately ashamed.
Confused, Griff stared at the man then finished his sentence, “Who sent you…”
“That’s him. Gideon.” The man was near tears at this point, “He runs the Bloodhound detail here in Sanctuary!” He was gulping huge mouthfuls of air, and couldn’t talk fast enough, “Gideon has the information you want!”
Griff looked back to the death eater, it stared back with its soulless eyes.
“Well?” Griff asked it out loud.
“Its a start.” It responded.
“Its a start.” Griff agreed.