Requiem for a Mouse (23 page)

SASHA

The main streets had become a cluster of flying debris and furniture. Anything unsecured was picked up by the wind and thrown into whoever was unfortunate enough to be outside. Rain had flooded the streets, its water reaching well past Sasha’s ankles.

She pressed herself against the garbage bin, praying after each flash of lightning that nobody would find her. This was the first time in ten minutes of ducking and weaving that she had found herself alone.

She peeked over the trash bin. Lightning split the sky in two and in that second, she saw an alley devoid of any trash. This was what wealth brought, shiny metal garbage bins emptied weekly. At the end of this alley stood a Lion.

A second flash of lightning illuminated the Lion’s back. Before its thunder had finished roaring, Sasha charged the Lion’s back.

“Out of my way!” she screamed and lunged at the green raincoat in front of her. She crashed into the Lion and tumbled onto the ground. Before the Lion could get his bearings, Sasha rolled onto her feet and was already up and running.

It’s too dangerous to use main roads.

She turned the corner into the alley and screeched to a halt. A plain white mask stared back at her. Both of them jumped backwards.

“Shit,” a female voice muttered from behind the mask. She reached into her pocket, fumbling for her weapon.

Sasha didn’t wait, she turned back into the main road and sprinted away. She heard thunder coming from the alley and understood that it was a gun. Ahead of her, Lions poured from the alleys, converging toward the gunfire.

There were no alleys to escape into, only a wall of houses. Without a second’s hesitation, she skirted toward a house. Sasha rammed her body into its rotting door, but it refused to budge.

A bullet rammed itself into the door, sending an explosion of splinters into Sasha’s face. She jerked to the side and twisted around. A blank white mask stared back, a gun pointed at her.

Shit!

A wooden stool crashed into the Lion, flung by the wind. It broke on impact. The Lion tumbled into the water. Before she could get back up, Sasha was upon her. Sasha pressed her head under the water while wrestling with the gun with her other hand. Debris slammed against Sasha’s head. It was all it took for the Lion to flip Sasha under her.

Though Sasha’s eyes were open, she could barely see through the water. All she saw was a flurry of bubbles. A single hand held her down. Sasha kicked the ground and pushed against the hand, but she was too weak, and only getting weaker.

She grasped the ground around her, digging her nails into whatever she could find. Her fingers rapped around something solid and long. With the last of her energy she jammed it into the Lion’s arm. The Lion screamed and fell backwards.

Sasha shot up into the air. She took a mighty breath before coughing it all back out. The Lion crunched over trembling. What Sasha had found was the broken leg of a stool. It had pierced the Lion’s thin arm. A dribble of blood crawled down the wood into the murky waters below.

There was no time to lose, with every passing second, the other Lions came closer. Sasha ran back to the rotting door and tackled it. The door cracked but didn’t open. She stepped backwards and stomped at the door. Tiny splinters dug into her heel, digging deeper with every stomp.

Two arms grabbed Sasha and propelled her through the door in an explosion of wood. They fell onto the bare ground into the house, a new Lion on top of Sasha.

“Stop squirming!” the Lion commanded.

“Get out of my house!” a man screamed.

Sasha heard the sound of hollow metal and suddenly, the Lion released her. The Lion screamed and rolled over writhing on the ground. Her back lurched forward and her arms crumpled into her.

Sasha scrambled up just in time to see a metal bat flying toward her. She felt its breeze as the bat scraped by her face.

“This is your last warning, get out of my house,” the man with the bat said.

The man was short, but his muscles stretched the holes in his t-shirt. He held the bat up as if it was a sword. His arms shook and his knuckles turned white. Behind him in the living room, two small pairs of eyes peeked over the couch.

“She has a gun,” Sasha motioned at the Lion.

The owner’s eyes darted to the Lion and in this moment, Sasha lunged at him. Both hands clung to his bat. She pulled with all her might, but only managed to spin them. With a small grunt, the man shoved her backwards, deeper into his home.

Sasha stumbled back before tripping over the small table in the living room. Two shrill screams filled the house in a steady note.

“Get away from my kids!” The owner ran at her with the bat raised above his head.

Sasha rolled off it just in time to dodge the bat. It slammed into the wooden table, breaking it in two. Before she get could up, the man’s shadow swallowed her, his bat raised and ready.

“Okay, stop!” Sasha clenched her eyes shut and put out her hands.

“Leave.”

Sasha slowly opened her eyes. “I will. Just calm down.”

“Don’t break into my house and tell me to calm down,” the man snarled back.

The door behind him swung open and another Lion stepped through. The two kids shrieked louder than ever. With a mighty roar, the father flung his bat at the Lion. It hits it mark, splitting the Lion’s mask in two. The lion crumpled to the ground, but as soon as he fell, another walked in. The owner roared and charged the next Lion.

Sasha darted her eyes around the room, finding the window she was looking for. She climbed over the couch, over the two boys still crying, and landed in front of the trash window. Behind her, the kids’ father wrestled with the invading lions. There was nothing more in this world Sasha wanted than to help him, but she also had people she needed to protect.

She opened the window and crawled out of it straight into the garbage bin below. To her surprise, she fell into water deep enough to submerge her entire body. The garbage bin only held a few black bags at its bottom, but gallons of water. She pushed herself up, spluttering out sour water as she broke the surface to breathe.

“I knew you’d pull this stunt again.” It was the same Lion that had shot her.

Sasha closed her eyes as the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her head.

GUNTHER

Gunther waited behind the metal trash bin. Its green had long ago faded away until all that was left was the orange hue of rust. Beside him, kids were screaming through the wall. He could hear the owner of the house yelling at the Lions breaking in. He understood well. If anyone were to ever threaten Lissandra or Leon, he’d be in as much of a frenzy.

The window above him opened and then he heard a splash as someone fell into the garbage bin in front of him. Gunther frowned and gripped the cold iron of his gun. He had never considered himself a Lion, only a brother, one guilty of failing his sister when she needed him the most. He stood and brought the nose of his gun to the Mouse’s wet hair.

“I knew you’d pull this stunt again.” His fingers twitched on the trigger. Just like before, the gun seemed heavier and the trigger harder to pull. Despite the chilling wind, sweat accumulated on his brow.

“My name is Sasha,” the Mouse responded with a shaky voice. She slowly moved to turn her head toward him.

“Don’t you move!” Gunther roared.

The Mouse stopped. Rain beat down on Gunther but he felt none of it. It was all he could do just to breathe correctly. He brought his other hand to the gun to stop it from wobbling.

“Are you waiting for me to beg?” The Mouse asked. “Because I’m not going to beg.”

“Mouse, I’m going to kill you.”

“Like I said, my name’s Sasha. At least have the guts to face me when you shoot.” The Mouse began to turn.
“Stop or I’ll shoot! Mouse!”

But the Mouse ignored him. She turned until her ruby eyes looked him straight in the face. “You’re going to shoot me regardless,” she reminded him. “You better hurry, Lion.”

The word felt like a spear through his stomach. Gunther ripped the mask off his face and held his gun with renewed vigor. “I’m sorry, Mouse.” He couldn’t tell if it were tears or rain in his eye. “This is for my little sister.”

Pull!
His fingers didn’t move.
Pull.
The gun just quivered in his hand.
Pull…

“Stop.”

Gunther looked up to see another a tall and lanky silhouette. He rubbed the water from his eyes and saw a Lion’s mask with a red smile. There was no mistaking it, this was the man he had seen last with Shae. The man held a gun in one hand and a twisting knife in the other. Gunther wasn’t sure which he was more scared of.

“Who are you?” Gunther asked, but he had a pretty good idea.

“You know who I am,” The Slasher responded. “The real question you should ask is: why am I here?”

Gunther swallowed. “Why are you here?”

“For you,” The Slasher answered gleefully. “I can see your hands trembling, you’re not a killer. You look more like the victim.”

“You don’t know me.” But even as he said the words, the gun twitched in his grip.

The white mask tilted until The Slasher’s ears nearly touched his shoulder. “I was born a killer, raised by killers and trained to be one. You are not one of us.”

Gunther pushed his gun into the red-eyed Mouse’s forehead. “Don’t test me.”

The Slasher looked back calmly. “Would you like a way out?”

“There are none.”

The Slasher took a step toward him, his eyes laughing behind his mask. “I can make one.”

“Stop!” The gun jerked toward The Slasher. It shook with Gunther’s rising breaths.

“What’s the point of having a gun if you can’t pull the trigger?”

“Your way out, there’s a catch isn’t there?” asked Gunther.

The Slasher slapped his mask with the hand that held his knife and bent over laughing. When he calmed down, he looked Gunther straight in the eyes. “Only thieves and gods ask for nothing in return. I want the Mouse. What do you want?”

“Money, enough to feed my family.”

“I can give you that.”

“You don’t even know how much that is?”

The Slasher tilted his head to his other shoulder. “I’m the Slasher, I don’t care how much it is.”

Gunther reached into his pocket and fished out a wet letter. He threw it onto the ground by the Slasher’s feet. “I was already promised a lot of money for this girl’s life. Why should I take your deal over mine?”

The Slasher shrugged. “Because once you’re dead, who will take care of your family?”

“From where I’m standing, it seems like I’m already dead.”

The Slasher shook his head, as if disappointed. “My reputation has taken a life of its own. I have never before in my life killed anyone that didn’t deserve it. If there is no victim, then there is no justice. You are yet to be worthy of my justice. But say you were to shoot this Mouse right now…” His sentence ended in a deep growl.

Gunther’s shoulders ached. He looked back down at the Mouse shivering inside the garbage bin. Her hair matted to her forehead as she hugged herself to keep warm. He hadn’t thought about it before, but the Mouse was about the same age as Lissandra. She could be someone else’s little sister.

“Okay,” Gunther whispered. He let his tired arms drop.

“I’ll need an address.” The Slasher said. “Just give me three days to get the money. Until then, I need you to” —he raised his gun and fired.

SASHA

Sasha screamed. Her ears rang a high pitch as the gunshot slowly faded. When she had back her hearing, she turned toward The Slasher. “What was that?”

She peered over the edge of the garbage bin at Gunther. The bullet had hit Gunther’s head, collapsing his nose into his face. Pieces of skin split off into his skull and blood darker than any she’s ever seen poured out.

“I lied to him.” The Slasher shrugged. “Obviously.”

“Why’d you have to shoot him? He was leaving!”

“He shot you.”

Sasha climbed out of the garbage bin and plopped down by Gunther. She pressed an ear to his chest. Nothing. She could smell his wound, a sickly sour smell that mixed with the rain water to produce a nauseating scent. She pressed her ear harder against his chest.

“Don’t bother. You can’t save this one Sasha.”

He’s right.

She stood up and punched the garbage bin with a hollow thud. “God damn it!”

“God didn’t do this.”

“How can you be so calm right now?” Sasha shouted. She crouched down by the corpse once called Gunther. One second he was a human, a brother and son; the next, just a mass of meat.

The Slasher knelt next to her. “It’s just not that big of a deal. Sasha, we need to—”

Sasha grabbed Gunther’s gun and pushed it into The Slasher’s red smile. “Not a big deal?”

The Slasher paused for a second to register what was happening. Then he laughed. “This is what makes you break your code? A Lion?” His shoulders shook with each laugh. He pushed back against the nose of her gun with his mask. “Unbelievable!”

“I won’t let you take life so casually.” She slipped the gun next to The Slasher’s ear and pulled the trigger.

The Slasher shrieked and jerked away from the gun. He pressed both hands against his right ear and fell into the water. “You bitch!” he screamed, rolling on the floor shrieking.

Sasha dropped Gunther’s gun and took off.

Fuck!

Nothing had gone right about the drop. The weather. The Lions. The Slasher. It was as if she was fighting some divine being hell-bent on stopping her.

Sasha ran, but not very fast. The wind pressed against her and the water slowed her steps. When she felt unable to take even another step, she ducked into an alley and collapsed. There, huddled next to the trash, she hugged her knees into her body.

Because of her, one, maybe two families were destroyed. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen to the kids afterwards. She knew first-hand how this world treated its orphans. Perhaps this was what happened to Prince or Flower, perhaps she was the villain.

She shook the thoughts out of her head. Guilt was a luxury she couldn’t yet afford. There was plenty of time for that after she saved her family. She turned the corner and kept going. In less than ten minutes, she reached her destination, a clay building with its windows boarded up and paint chipped away.

I made it.

For the first time in a long while, she let herself relax.

An overhanging roof protected her from the rain. The building itself blocked the wind, only letting through a breeze. The street’s slope prevented any flooding, providing what seemed to be the driest street throughout the slums.

She combed her fingers through her hair, tugging away rough knots. It felt like rope. Still, she kept at it until her hair fell semi-flat down her back. Good enough.

She chuckled at herself. It was a stupid sentiment, but she wanted to look good when she finished the drop. With a deep breath, she gave the door three quick knocks.

Slow and heavy footsteps approached the door. Each step brought a small flutter to Sasha’s heart. Her eyes filled with happy tears. “Hello,” she called out when the footsteps stopped at the door.

This is where it’ll all be worth it.

The door opened the slightest bit and a single eye peeked through the crack. “What do you want?” The voice was gruff and harsh, as if accusing her of something.

Sasha ignored his tone and instead mustered up the biggest smile she could. “It’s Sasha, I’m the Mouse. I’m here with the medicine you requested. Sorry for the delay, I ran into a bit of –”

“Slide it through.” The man behind the door instructed.

Sasha nodded and held the Ziploc bag through the crack in the door. A hand snatched the medicine from her hand and the door slammed shut. Its edges scraping her fingers.

Sasha stood in shock, staring at the chipped paint of a rotting door. The happy tears that once filled her eyes were replaced with the tears she was more accustomed to. She rubbed her eyes dry and sighed a single waning note. And as her sigh died, so did her smile.

“You’re welcome,” she muttered to nobody and left.

No.

Sasha stopped mid-step and spun back in front of the door.

No fucking way.

She clenched her fists into wrecking balls and hammered at the door. Each strike shook the door as if it was about to fall from its hinges. It hurt. Though the door was rotting, its frigid wood still felt like stone. Even so, Sasha kept hitting it.

“What do you want?” the same harsh voice answered. The door opened the slightest bit.

Sasha was prepared this time. She jammed her foot through the crack and grabbed the edges of the door. “What do I want?” she grunted and fought to pry the door open. “We Mice risk our lives for you. We get beaten and cut for you. We die for you! So don’t you dare close this door on me, not before you look me in the eye and thank us for all that we’ve done!”

“Stop it!”

Sasha swung the door open and stumbled inside the house. She stopped herself right before her foot hit a broken needle. The entire place smelled of antiseptic mixed with a human musk. In one corner were two boys asleep, in another was a stained mattress on top of a pile of empty syringes. On the floor right in front of her sat Jake.