Watching the Butcher get shredded by the turret’s bullets, I feel warm satisfaction flow through me. 

Desire is still screaming, although the volume of her screams have begun to lower with each heave. No doubt the work of blood loss.

“You’re going to die here.” I manage to huff out, terribly out of breath, my heart still pounding like it wants out of my body as soon as possible.

She stops screaming at this. I turn my head to look at her through the glass and I say it again, “You’re going to die here.”

She raises a bloody hand and slaps it on the glass, wiping across it lazily she moans, “This…this is what you’re supposed to look like.”

“What?” I breathe, my heart slowly pacing back to its normal speeds.

She lets out a guttural sound I can only describe as a cross between a groan and a growl and bangs on the glass, “Blood! Blood! You’re supposed to be!”

Supposed to be covered in blood.

“Huh.” I let myself breath a light, tired chuckle, “You’re crazy.”

Lying on the floor all I see is the white porcelain roof with a single small fan right above where she would stand and serve the customers.

Desire seems like a person obsessed with convenience.

At the other end of where I lay on the floor covered in the droids’ wires, there’s a stool with a shotgun leaning on it. 

Why didn’t I just grab that?

Oh. Right, I was immediately tackled by a bunch of bolts tied to a chainsaw.

I groan, deciding it's about time I got up. My body hurts, every bit of my back feels like I’ve been bent over backwards and beaten with a stick in that position.

A metal stick.

My jaw is sore and clicking now, not to mention bleeding from the grazing punch the Butcher let off before being taken out by an automaton that would regularly be its ally.

I guess Desire forgot to set it as an ally. She may have been prepared, but it seems she skipped a few steps.

Sluggishly dragging myself up the wall next to the counter I realize I haven’t heard her groans or moans in a while.

Now standing, I look over the counter, clutching my aching side, “Desire.” I call out.

She lays there on the tarp she laid out, her fingers still touching the glass, sliding down it slippery with her blood. 

But her eyes are wide open.

“Desire?” I call out again, but my voice breaks. “Are you…?” 

I cut myself short from asking the foolish question and close my eyes. It’s not like I didn’t tell her what would happen. I did.

“I’m sorry, Desire. I’m just…doing what I’m told.”

She lays there, still as stone and even more still than the twitching droid parts beside her. 

Taking in her image; still, eyes open, cheek smeared in blood and lips parted. Her finger sliding down the glass and her hair made wet by her own blood. Dead.

Desire isn’t the first person I’ve seen…dead, she isn’t the first warm dead person I’ve seen either. I realize she probably wouldn’t be the last.

As I stare at her last expression, her last image. It dawns on me that Desire is the first person that I have killed. That I have confirmed as dead, warm but soon to be decaying.

With this comes the late realization that I shouldn’t be staring at my firs-

“Bluragghhh!” 

The contents of my stomach wait for no one before spilling out my mouth and to the ground where I laid not a minute ago.

“Ah fuck.” I breathe out, huffing and wiping my mouth. “Fucking…”

Suddenly, there’s a tap on the glass and my heart nearly jumps into my throat as the thought that Desire would have turned into an undead pop into my head.

But it just happens to be Austin tapping the glass of the entrance. I still give Desire a glance just to be sure she isn’t horrifically, suddenly glaring at me.

She’s not. I regret it.

The tapping continues until I give him my attention. I wipe my mouth a third time on my sleeve and sniff, giving Austin a tired, exhausted look.

He’s pointing at the turrets.

Right. Desire activated them, he can’t come in without being blasted to hell and back like Butcher was.

I sigh and look at the button under the counter, it’s the most obvious place it would be set.

There it is. A switch.

Flicking the switch, the turrets immediately power down and hang limply on their hinges. After that Austin marches in.

“Quite a mess you got here kid.” He starts off instantly, hands on his waist and a troubled look on his face, “So this is what happens when I let you take care of things…they die.”

I don’t answer him, rather I walk into the back where I’d seen her keep several of the real merchandise and pick up something more powerful than my now-empty pistol. 

“Did you have to kill her though?” He yells out from the front, “And what’s this metal…is this…is this a droid?”

Again, I don’t bother answering. Focusing on the pile of handguns I’m spilled onto. Most of the good-looking ones are slide guns, but perhaps with the added benefit that they’re automatic.

I pick up a silver one and start my search for its ammo pack.

“Hey Vern! I’m talking to you!”

I don’t know when he got here but here he is, standing in the doorway, blocking all of the dimming natural light.

“I heard you.” I answer. My voice is numb and sore and it makes me hate myself.

“So why the hell aren’t you answering?” His yell is punctuated by a bang on the door frame.

“You didn’t ask me any question that didn’t have an obvious answer, Austin.”

He sighs at this, rubbing the bridge of his nose he looks back at me as I pull out a magazine and try fitting it into the gun. It doesn’t fit.

“You’ll need the one at the back, that’s a Wilson, isn’t it?” I stare blankly at him, “Yeah it’s a Wilson, it’s the magazine at the back.”

He stretches over me, stepping out of the doorway and into the room to pick up the one he spoke of. He snatches the gun out of my hand and in a smooth motion, loads it up.

“Combat handgun, a bit too heavy for a kid…but you’re not a kid are you.” He doesn’t look at me as he says this, rather his eyes trail past me and back out the door where the fruits of my labour lie.

I snatch the gun back, pull the slide and before he even starts flinching, I fire off two shots.

BangBang!

The second shot is an automatic. Satisfied I pluck off more of the magazines he picked off the wall.

“Jeez, let me know before firing one of next time.”

“I’m going back to Paige.” Is all I say before making my way out of the back room.

“What-m wait! We haven’t…” I feel his gaze on my back as I veritably flee the scene of my crime, I hear him sigh as he gives in.

“Just hold on a bit, I’ll call someone to take care of this and then we leave.”

Great, can’t wait.

***

I walk about ten paces ahead of Austin. My hands are stuffed in my pocket, occasionally coming out to fiddle with my newly acquired weapon; it’s heavier than the last and poses quite a deal of discomfort to walk around with pockets full of its magazines.

I don’t complain though, my goal is straight ahead of me. It’s late at night and currently there are very few trikes willing to take any passengers in, and the snow doesn’t make driving any easier anyway.

It’ll be shovelled away in the morning though, the city's environmental workers are always on a prowl for whatever reason, the most diligent facet of the local government anyone would say.

So that leaves me with strutting and near on running away from Austin. However, his legs are longer and with the barest of effort he catches up.

His voice sings tunes I don’t want to hear, talking constantly about how we’ve got a mission to complete.

Does he not see it’s past midnight and nearly every business owner is unconscious in their beds?

I shake my head at this. But I know none of that’s the reason he’s chasing after me still, he’s let it slip even and his unwarranted help earlier in the gun shop was all the indication I needed.

This fool is going to try and comfort me, isn’t he, I sigh.

Contrary to his current belief, I am very much aware of what has happened, what I’ve done. I am also very aware of my position as a child, well, a pre-teen anyway.

I understand clearly that he feels a responsibility to look after me, especially after I’ve gone out and capped someone. I know he’s just trying to do what he feels he has to do, for my sake as a kid, as someone younger, much younger than himself.

However, what I don’t understand is why he can’t see that I’ve got all of that under a lid. I’m perfectly fine, heck I’m set!

All I have to do is head back to the motel and Paige will be waiting for me. Whatever nonsense, inhibiting feelings I may have in my subconscious about killing Desire will be banished to the depths of forgottenness once I lay my eyes on her.

In the first place, I don’t feel all too remorseful about capping her. I don’t feel a thing even, I’m just about to go through the rest of my day, my new day, like normal.

I let out a sigh as I realize I’ve been out through the city terrorizing business owners and putting bullets in people. The thought that in one day I’ve helped to impair a man and take all the money he has left as well as threaten his child’s life, and in the next beat kill a woman defending her personal interests and prosperity…

Well, I suppose that bit weighs on me. But that’s all, I haven’t lost focus of my goal, I know why I’m doing all these things and I know I’d do them over and over again if I had to.

They stood in my way, that’s all this is…it’s nothing personal.

“Vern!” Austin’s voice pierces through my thoughts once again and I barely restrain a groan, “Are you even listening to me, this is important Vern.”

I shrug. I haven’t been listening to a single buzzing word he’s spoken all this time and honestly, my legs are beginning to hurt from all the walking.

How much farther is it to the motel?

I’d pull up a map if I had a band or heck even a tab but I’m far too impoverished for such gadgetry. Instead, I measure the distance by landmark, and since I haven’t gotten to the busty neon sign of that one bar then that means I still have a while to go.

Fuck. I’m stuck with Austin for that long?

Unfortunately, that’s the situation I find myself in, “What is it?” I drawl, not bothering to pour in an iota of respect.

He frowns at my tone but doesn’t mention it, “Oh I’m just explaining how you’re going to explain to Rey that his precious payment will be forever lost to junk.”

I look up at this, raising an eyebrow.

Taking the cue he explains, “Desire doesn’t have anything worth the amount she owed…except for the droid that you let get shredded by the turrets!”

Inhaling a bit at the mound of stress that falls on my shoulder at this, “The droid was going to saw my head off, sorry if I let it get seasoned with bullets to save my hide, Austin.” I breathe sarcasm while he growls.

“And,” I continue, “The turrets should be worth something. There’s also the fact that you’ve got an entire store of guns, you can equip the men with the good stuff and sell whatever’s left, no?”

Frankly I’m impressed I thought up such a brilliant plan all on my own and on the spot.

These guys really are all brawn and no brains, I snort.

“You must think you’re such a genius huh?” Austin starts, pulling me out of my self-idolatry, “The store is far more of a liability than it is an advantage. For one we don’t have any of Desire's contacts outside the city nor do we have access to her chip that has now been deactivated, we can equip ourselves with the good stuff sure but what’s left now is all there ever will be unless someone takes up the business.”

He breathes a sigh at my confused face, “I’m starting to think you shouldn’t go around shooting people in the knee and elbow.”

Ignoring that jibe I ask, “Why exactly does her being gone mean anything? Can’t we just get someone else behind the counter, get our own supplier and start selling?”

He shakes his head terribly at my words, his face twisted by my ignorance, “No, we can’t do any of that because the chip implanted at the back of her head has long gone off, the government already knows she’s dead and by morning they’ll be coming to transfer the property, that being the store, to her next of kin and if she doesn’t have one, then it reverts back to the government.”

This frightens me, “We have chips in our heads?” I nearly exclaim in the empty streets.

Perhaps I should have been listening a lot earlier.