The next morning was cloudier than usual. I hadn’t checked the weather, but my instincts told me that rain was in the forecast. I made sure to put on boots and a raincoat before I left for work. I went out at the same time I always did and began my morning walk.
I heard the commotion before I saw anything. A man was yelling in the distance. I recognized that voice; it was Derek.
“Yo! What the fuck you thinking?” he shouted. His voice bounced off the walls of the surrounding buildings and filled the quiet morning. “You gotta pay for that shit, you know?”
A brief silence fell. The person Derek was talking to must have been replying.
“The hell you mean? You don’t know what paying is?” Derek exploded.
The place where he always set up his vending cart came within view for me. He must have woken up a bit earlier today since he had everything prepared. His cart displayed the buns he made that morning, little wisps of steam rising into the air. There was an empty area on the tray that the buns rested on.
Derek was standing beside his cart with his hands up in the air. I couldn’t quite see his expression, but from the way his jaw was clenched and the vein in his neck pulsed, he seemed angrier than I had ever seen him before. In front him was the one causing all of this shouting. It was a young lady who looked like she had just turned twenty. She had long flowing black hair with warm skin and soft pink lips. As I walked further down the street, I noticed her eyes. They were a hue of blue that I had never seen before. They were as dark as the sky when night began to shallow the fading rays of the sinking sun. I felt that if I came any closer, I could see the stars within those eyes of azure glass.
“Aye, Fae, good to see you,” Derek said. I blinked and found myself a meter away from the two. “Kind of a bad time though. I got a problem to deal with.”
He glared at the young woman who looked back at him with clear eyes that were as innocent as a newborn.
“What happened?” I asked.
“This girl here grabbed a bun and stuffed down her gullet and says she can’t pay. Says she doesn’t know what paying is.” Derek scoffed. “Even the fucking druggies jacked up on stim know what money is.”
I glanced at the young woman again and this time our eyes met. I found no deception within those blue lenses. There were still small crumbs around her lips, evidence of the theft she had just committed. That was when I noticed the clothes she wore.
They were unlike anything I had seen in the Outer Districts. It was like a wetsuit made of some black material. There was no labeling of any sort, a rarity that only the most expensive of clothing held. Besides that wetsuit, all she wore were a pair of black shoes. Her figure was on full display.
“Where are you from?” I asked, my voice a whisper. I hit myself mentally. She was a meter away and I was whispering.
Before I could repeat my question louder, she replied.
“I don’t know,”
Her voice was just as soft as mine, but her words were bright and clear without a trace of sadness despite the words she had just uttered. The way her eyes flickered from me to Derek betrayed her worry, but her body told me it was more because of confusion than fear.
“How many did she take? One right?” I asked Derek, turning to look at him.
“Just one. So far,” he frowned.
“You know, I was thinking about buying one today. I got a few extra credits yesterday,” I said. I glanced at the girl who had no reaction. There was only curiosity in her eyes. “I think I’m running a bit late now though.”
I tapped my band against the payment machine. It beeped as it accepted the money. Derek looked at me with an expression of surprise that I ignored.
“Go back to your home,” I whispered to the girl as I walked past her. “It’s not safe to go out alone.”
Then I continued my usual morning walk to the factory. Two minutes later I turned around to face the girl who was following. As I frowned at her, she gave me what could only be described as puppy eyes. I considered her for a moment before sighing.
“Why are you following me?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“I don’t know where home is,” she said.
“You don’t have a home?”
“I don’t remember.”
“What do you remember?” I asked slowly. A sinking feeling settled within me as a suspicion grew.
“I...don’t know,” the girl said with a tilt of her head. Confusion filled her eyes.
“Do you know where you’re standing right now?”
She shook her head. My lips pressed together and I let out a sigh.
“Alright. Look, do you know directions?”
“Directions?” she repeated.
“Right and left.”
“Oh, I do!” she grinned. She raised her right hand then her left. “Right and left.”
“Good. Now listen carefully. Turn around and walk down the street. Count the street lights until you get to number fifty eight.” I paused. “Are you following? I don’t want to repeat this again.”
“I think so,” the girl said. She pointed at one of the street lights. “Count those long poles until number fifty eight.”
I nodded. “When you reach that number, go to the smallest building you see on your right.”
I hesitated for a moment before unzipping one of my pants pockets. I handed the girl a card.
“Do not lose this, do you hear me?” I said, glaring at her. She nodded obediently. “Repeat that for me.”
“Do not lose this,” she said.
“Good. When you reach that building, tap this on the black panel on the door. Then when it opens, go in immediately. There is a bed there that you can sleep on. Other than that and some water, do not touch anything else until I come back. Got it?”
“Yes.”
I gave her one last look before pulling away.
“Now go,” I said. She turned around, but before she could take more than two steps, I was struck by a thought and grabbed her shoulder. “Wait. Do you at least remember your name?”
She looked back at me and frowned for a moment before her expression brightened.
“Sapphire.”
I managed to reach the factory on time albeit around ten minutes later than I usually did. These were the type of days where I felt vindicated for always leaving so early. Even being a minute late could mean not having a job any more. Though days like these were rare, that didn’t mean they shouldn’t be accounted for. That was my motto in most of life. I had bad experiences when I didn’t follow it.
When my shift began, I went to my station, but a manager stopped me before I started. I looked at him and found him pointing at the station next to me. It was the one where the older man from yesterday was working.
“You’re moving there,” the manager said.
I nodded and went to the new station. It was number 466. This wasn’t the first time I had to move stations. It wouldn’t be the last time. It was just always a bit annoying having to remember a new number.
I got to work pushing sheet after sheet of metal into the press. The counting started as usual as I waited for the end of the day, but my mind seemed to have different ideas that day. It wandered away from the task at hand to think about the events of the morning. Normally, I would leave such situations alone. Getting involved was rarely helpful. There was just something about that girl that struck me as odd.
She wore fabric that no one in the Outer District should have access too. It was much too soft looking and looked to serve another purpose outside of being a layer of cloth. The girl herself looked out of place. Her skin was smooth, her hair was well groomed, and she carried herself with a confidence you wouldn’t find in many. Though she said she couldn’t remember anything, the body never forgets.
Speaking of the girl’s memories, I believed her completely. The way she talked was like that of a child even though her body was mature. She didn’t look mentally ill in any way either.
A girl like her who wore such tight clothing that revealed every one of her curves because she didn’t know better, who talked so innocently despite the world she was standing in, needed someone there to at least help her. If I had left her alone, who knows what someone would have done to her.
It was a bit hypocritical though, I would admit. I’ve seen countless girls in the Outer Districts who were lost. If someone lent them a hand, they might have been saved from their inevitable fate. Some did get that hand, but I had never given mine. Maybe it was because they reminded me of myself. I learned that you needed to fight if you wanted to live your own life. They needed to learn the same.
That girl was different. Something happened to her, stripping her of what she had and now she was like a child again. To leave someone like that to fend for themselves…
I blinked and looked at my hands which were still putting sheet after sheet of metal into the machine. I had lost track of the number. It wasn’t a problem though. I just needed to see when the others began to leave.
My thoughts shifted back as I began to think about what came next. The girl was sitting in my room now, possibly asleep. I had given her a place to stay temporarily, but I couldn’t keep someone there forever nor was I planning to.
Where could this girl have come from? That was the question that echoed in my mind. My first impressions were that she hailed from the City with her flawless skin and long hair. When I saw her face, though, the metal implant in her right cheek told me it wasn’t as simple as that. If she was from the City, then her position must have been a complicated one.
Then a thought struck me. If she was from the City, then what was she doing in the Outer Districts. People from the city wouldn’t be caught dead here. Literally. They would have hired someone to take them away when they were inevitably stabbed by some random druggie and then would have hired another person to kill the person they hired. Why was this girl here then? What made her lose her memory?
An idea began to creep into my mind as I thought about the odd situation more and more. Was it possible that someone from the City did this to her and sent her here for some nefarious reason? Or maybe it was targeted.
A chill ran down my spine at the idea. It would be a cruel thing to use such a person for a task like that, but it was something I could see happening.
I couldn’t jump to conclusions though. That’s how you get killed. However, if this was something targeted, then I needed to get away as fast as I could before the ones behind it came after me for getting in their way. Solving this was of utmost importance. As soon as I finished work.
Oh yeah, when she gets off work. Yeah, sure, that's probably quick enough....