Greetings, I was writing part 5 of The Long Walk Home, but, this idea popped into my head so I decided to move over and write this short story instead.
The evening sky was dark pink. The weather had been perfect these last few days, it was warm; warm enough that flying at high speed between the buildings of Jex caused a bearable breeze, unlike during the winter when they couldn't have the roof of their vehicle down while in transit.
Flying the speeder was Selene Lockley, whose blonde hair blew violently in the wind, not that it seemed to annoy her, not by the odd glance and smile she would cast Poitr Breton's way. He kept finding himself glancing at her, and each time she caught him another smile would grow on her face, framed by the colourful lights that resonated and pulsed from the buildings that zipped past, too fast to focus on.
It made him uncomfortable when she took her eyes off where she was going, he didn't want to mention it though. Every second she spent looking at him made it all worth it.
They had an eventful day, and they had seen most of their old haunts, stopping to reminisce at each one. By lunchtime they had parked up on the Northern cliffs and looked out over The Dead Zone; a twisted mess of what used to be a large portion of their city. The whole western side of the city was a reminder of this world's recent history.
"Remember when we used to sneak through the barricades and go wondering through there?" She had asked, without taking her eyes off the place.
How could he forget. Those feelings of fear, excitement, anxiety, and joy. "How did we never get killed?" He whispered, remembering a few close calls with the ones who called The Dead Zone home.
"Because we were too quick." She replied, before shaking her head lightly and letting out a giggle.
"Remember we saw that deal that was going down?" She asked after a long pause.
"I forgot about that!" He exclaimed excitedly, recalling a group of the most dangerous-looking people he had ever seen, up to that point. "They caught us staring at them, didn't they?"
"They wouldn't have if you hadn't been shimmying around to get a better look at what they were doing."
"Do you think they were actually aiming at us, or do you think they missed on purpose?" Poitr asked, unsure of the answer.
"Nah, they were aiming to miss us. They knew we weren't a threat." She replied and then looked beyond Poitr to the speeder. "Come on, we'd better get moving."
The city itself looked good at night. From the right spot during the day, you would be able to look out the grim reminders the place wore like a badge of honor. But, as the night drew nearer, the lights from the building bloomed and only highlighted the reconstruction efforts; a shining beacon in the darkness that threatened to swallow it whole.
"Look! Someone took a spill!" Selene shouted, and stood up out of her seat to stare at the street below.
Poitr looked down, and could see smoke rising from some sort of crash, but couldn't make out any details.
"Let's head down and see if they need any help." Selene said as she turned the nose of the speeder down, and with the movement, Poitr could fill his stomach drop; The sharp maneuver made him feel like heaving.
"No, lets not!" He finally shouted when he was sure that he wouldn't puke upon opening his mouth. "It could be bate. I've heard of groups who trick people by pretending to need help."
"When did you turn skitty?" Selene asked before playfully laughing.
"I'm not being skitty, I just don't like the idea of landing in the West, this place is very different than when we were kids." He replied, trying to get the words out over the ridicule.
The West had become a rundown wreck of a place, and for such a small portion of the city, it made up for thirty-seven percent of all criminal activities here, as a whole. Poitr had seen a holo-vid about the place, and apparently a Gnosian known as Big Bima took over the entire district, and since his takeover, the place has gotten worse and worse.
"Where's you sense of adventure?"
Poitr sighed as he blankly stared at her. "Okay, but let's just be quick." He said in a defeated tone, knowing that there was no winning an argument against her.
She took the ship down for a landing no far from the wreck, and the smell of burning plastic, steel, and damp-fuel was so strong, he had to cover his face with the sleeve of his jacket. Breathing through the fibers of his coat didn't help to block it completely, but it helped.
The wreck looked to be an old speeder, the model of which was undiscernible due to the state it was in post-crash. Two bodies were on the ground outside it, and one person was hunched over near the wreck.
"Hey! Do you need us to contact someone?" Selene called out, as she exited the vehicle.
Poitr watched her leave and tried to grab her arm to stop her. "Wait, maybe we should." He was trying to tell her that maybe they should wait and just call someone before going over, but it was too late. Selene cut him off with the wave of a hand and carried on.
He watched her draw nearer to the fiery heap, and even though he wanted to stay in the speeder, Poitr decide to get out too and go with her.
The smoke was blowing wildly in the wind, and beyond the wreck, he could barely make out any detail in the buildings, as they were masked in a thick, dark fog.
"Hello?" Selene called once more. "Can we help?"
The person who was hunched over jumped to attention, turning toward them. He looked like he was scavenging parts of the ship, wearing dark leather, with some writing on it, a pair of goggles and that looked a bit singed.
"You can help me alright," He said, with a toothless smile. It was then that Poitr noticed the blaster the man had fixed on them. He stood up, carrying a fabric sack that he slung over his back while limping closer to them, with the weapon still aiming in their direction.
Instinctively Poitr put his hands in the air, as did Selene.
"Who owns the speeder?"
"I do." Selene replied.
"Get in, you're going to get me out of here."
Poitr slowly turned and started to walk back to the speeder, and noticed the chard remains of the people from the crash. He had to tread carefully to avoid them. He then noticed the sound of sirens, and noticed a few specs in the distance, closing in on them.
"Get in the ship! Now! Hurry!" The man shouted orders and as he did, they quickened their pace.
Now in the same position as they were before, but with the addition of the stranger in the seat behind them, Poitr didn't look around at the man, but knew the blaster was definitely leveled on them.
"Where do you want to get dropped off?" Selene asked, but the man didn't respond immediately.
Poitr looked at him through the corner of his eye and could see that he was moving erratically, staring behind them and then he'd quickly turn back to the front of the speeder.
"We're safe, I don't think they're following us." Selene said, trying to calm the man down, which seemed to work as they turned a corner and gained some distance between them and the wreck.
He let out a breath of fresh air and leaned back in his seat, all without lowering the weapon. By this point, Poitr felt comfortable enough to turn around fully.
"That was a rush!" The person exclaimed and started to laugh. Afterward, he rooted around in the sack and took out a small plastic pack and put it up to his mouth, pressed it, and as he did a brown mist shot out of it which he inhaled. "Want some?" He asked, offering the pack to Poitr. He was smiling, some of his teeth were missing and the rim of his mouth was stained with murky liquid.
"I'm okay." Poitr said.
"Suit yourself, you wouldn't catch me dead in the sky without some Haze."
It's no wonder you had a spill and nearly died with the other passenger. He thought to himself as he watched the man take another blast of the vapor.
"Look, I'm grateful you two came along when you did. I'm going to stop aiming this thing at you but don't do anything stupid. I'm not holstering it." The man said, to which Poitr nodded lightly. "Just a friendly warning" He continued and burst into a fit of laughter.
"Where do you want to get dropped off?" Selene asked once more.
"Ever been to Embers place?"
Poitr and Selene both shook their heads.
"It's this big, old-world, manner house over to the East, head that way and you can't miss it. Me and the others were supposed to make a drop-off, but as you saw, we didn't quite make it." He rambled on, looking out the side of the vehicle at the passing buildings. "Idiots."
There was nothing in the east, just rolling hills and a few places forests used to be. This far out of the city was almost peaceful, or at least looked as though it could be with a bit of work done to the place.
By the time they reached the building the sun had almost completely set, and looking at the ships and random patrols making their way through the grounds of the magnificent house, Poitr instantly felt out of place.
"Really appreciate this, and sorry about the circumstances. I don't have anything to offer you, but if you're ever in any kind of trouble, feel free to reach out to the High Flyers, and I'll put a word in for you." The man rambled, as he left their speeder, clutching the sack and adjusting himself as he did. "Hey, actually, do you two feel like coming in? I hear she's having a party tonight."
Poitr looked at Selene, who looked as white as a ghost by this stage. He was almost expecting her to say 'yes.' But, she didn't, instead she lightly shuck her head.
"Nah, it's okay, maybe another time." Poitr replied, to which the man nodded and left.
Within an instant, Selene was taking to the sky and the whole ordeal was behind them, and putting an end to the day.
"I thought you were going to say yes and try to drag me into the party with those nutcases." Poitr said.
"I just want to go home."
"Home?" Poitr shook his head playfully. "Where's your sense of adventure?" He continued.
Selene let out a sigh of relief which left her lungs as a laugh. "No way."
"You don't want to party with our new friends?" Poitr jokingly replied.
Selene shook her head and turned to him with a smile, but her eyes said she was still in shock by the entire situation. This time, her face was framed by the blackness of the night, which seemed unmoving; it looked as though they were still, frozen in time.
