Somehow I managed to give him ‘The Smile’; that perfected little expression of thanks all strippers learn to keep the John’s happy. I could still feel his purple eyes boring into my back when I turned away to do a few spins on the pole. As subtly as possible, I wiped away the grimy sweat his hand had left behind. There was a small reptilian scale stuck to my palm after I’d finished.
"That was Gutterfly, gentleman. Give our lovely little undead devushka a round of applause, da? Next up, the delicious Kandy Kane!"
The music changed and signaled the end of my set. Kandy Kane was on next, climbing onto the stage with liquid grace and offering me a wink as she passed by. There was plenty of crimson skin visible around the sheer, wispy white cloth she had wrapped around her. It was her shtick. The candy cane thing. Mine was being a living dead girl.
It only took a few seconds for me to gather up the five bucks and change earned during my set. Mostly quarters. A few crumbled bills. I held my shirt protectively over my breasts and padded barefoot across the bar’s sticky floors to the women’s bathroom, grateful for the slight protection the space offered from the thundering TechoRussian music and a dozen leering eyes devouring my mostly bare ass.
The dancers pretty much had the lady’s room to themselves since most of the customers were men. Except for the occasional trick for extra cash. Someone was getting head in one of the stalls when I stepped inside.
I tried to ignore the guy’s grunts and moans as I pulled my duffel bag out of a locker and started getting dressed. Wet sucking sounds drifted from behind rusting metal stalls, slurping in time to the club’s muted bass. Jeans, boots, a black hoodie and my synth-leather jacket were on by the time I heard the Trick cry out in release. My make-up was being washed off when he stepped out, zipped up his fly, and paused to check himself out in the grimy mirror.
He was a Norm. Young. Dressed fairly well with just a bit of bling. I pegged him as a college kid from NYJC slumming with the mutants. He left after tossing me a wink. Nails came out grinning a few minutes later, moving to stand beside me at the sink to brush her teeth. She looked like a Norm too. Until you saw the hooked talons perched at the end of each wrist. Three fingers per hand. Bird-style.
“Shift over Fly?” She asked around a mouthful of toothpaste.
I nodded and mussed with my hair, trying to hide the wisps of shadow that crawled across my scalp. Nothing to be done for the dead-gray skin. At least sunglasses hid my solid black eyes.
“Yeah. Freddy hasn’t been giving me good hours since I turned him down for a bump and grunt.”
Nails smirked and spit into the sink. “I’ll ask him to hook you up. We all know you don’t spread em and you’ve got good looks to draw customers through the door. He’ll stop thinking with his dick once it gets wet.”
“Thanks hun.” I answered, smiling.
Freddy, the bar's owner, only hired Bloomers. Obvious Bloomers like me. Freaks on stage in all our post-human glory. He drew a lot of Norms from the city that way. I heard he even advertised with billboards and ‘Net commercials.
The bathroom door opened, briefly filling the little room with the stink of sweat and booze and blaring music from outside. A stripper named Stretch ducked as she passed through the portal, nearly folding herself in half to accommodate her stick-thin, ten foot frame. Tiny lips offered what would be a smile for most people. For her, with her inhumanly narrow face, it came across more like a fish sucking in food.
I tossed both girls a wave and stepped out into the hallway that separated the bathrooms, heading to the club's employee entrance. Tank-Tank’s bone-plated cheeks grew red after I planted a peck on one. The huge bouncer opened the club’s back door for me and scanned the rear lot before speaking in his slow, gravelly voice.
“Care. Full. Fire at Sea. Gate. Gangs and Russians. Bustin. Chops.”
His concern for me earned a second peck to the cheek that caused thick stony lips to literally crack into a smile. “Thanks Tank. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye. Bye. Gutter. Fly.”
Mermaid Ave was just beginning to awaken as I pulled my coat tightly around me and headed east. Gunfire snapped, crackled and popped in the distance where a reddish glow back-lit thick black smoke rising above Sea Gate to the west.
Five Bloomers passed me by on bicycles whose rusting frames sagged beneath their bulk. They were huge Meatboyz wearing old, blood-splattered army coats that clinked softly from the butcher knives and meat cleavers that hung on proud display. One locked bright orange eyes on me as he pedaled past.
I lowered my gaze and kept walking.
The sounds of a serious beat-down drifted from a dark alley as I hurried along my way. Chewing, wet noises followed a gurgling scream that ended abruptly. A media helicopter flew by overhead, its spotlight briefly touching on me before moving on to other, more news-worthy footage. Norms hated us Bloomers but absolutely loved watching what went on in our fucked up little island prison.
I cut north onto West 17th street, passing body shops where people got modded with tattoos, piercings and other crazy shit. Or tried to get stuff cut off so they looked more Norm. I’d gone in once to see about having my skin tone changed but chickened out at the last minute.
A skinny guy with rat-like buck teeth stepped outside and lit up a cigarette. Blood ran down his forehead from the dozen or so neon-purple fiber optic dreads he’d just had implanted. One furry hand rose to wave in my direction.
I crossed the street and kept walking.
Neptune Ave was brightly lit as I stepped onto its cracked asphalt and headed east again. The contrast in lighting made me blink, squinting against the glare. The restaurants, clubs and stores got a little better in quality since they had a steady income from the Army guys based nearby. That meant the streetlights were actually maintained.
There were more people on the street, walking in small groups as they headed home after work or ventured out for some fun. Few traveled alone. It wasn’t safe anywhere on the Island. Even this close to the military base.
I’d almost reached the train tracks, or what was left of them after Norm terrorists blew it to hell, when a group of Army guys stepped out of a grocery store.
Young. Normal. Dressed in black armored suits without their helmets on. None of the Army guys left the base without armor. Or guns. Rifles were slung over shoulders as they laughed and talked amongst themselves, carrying bags of groceries and heading my way.
I offered one a smile. He returned it with a sneer and spit in my face. That brought a louder round of laughter and my hackles rose as I helplessly watched the scene begin to unfold. It wasn’t uncommon. It happened all the time.
They stepped in my path and formed a semicircle around me. “How much?” The spitter asked.
“I don’t do that,” I answered softly, watching as people discreetly stepped into shops or alleyways to avoid the coming conflict. Scattered like buzzards in the face of larger predators.
I lowered my gaze and left it locked on their armored boots.
“All you Bloomer whores do that,” Another scoffed, reaching out his hand to weave its gloved fingers around one of my long braids. “The Sergeant asked you how much.”
“Please. I’m just trying to get home.” I knew it was pointless as soon as the words left my lips. You either had to be strong and dangerous, or quick and elusive to survive on the Island for long. I was neither and too far from my gang's territory to cry for help.
“If you won’t name a price then maybe you wanna give it up for free. Support the troops, right?” That drew laughs from the speaker’s buddies as his hand shifted to take a painful grip on my throat.
I wanted to be strong. Wanted to somehow become the monster they saw rather than a scared, weak girl. For the millionth time I wished I’d been born with some special ability that actually made a difference. Instead I could see in the dark and wasn’t affected by the cold. Great for when the power went out. Not much good for self defense.
“Just let me go. Please.” I managed to croak as his grip tighten around my windpipe. Fear welled at the thought of being gang-raped in some filthy alley, building up as a cold knot in the pit of my stomach that threatened to displace what I’d eaten earlier.
“Aww look. She’s crying." One said, voice full of mocking sympathy.
The hand on my throat dug its gloved fingers into the gray flesh there, causing pressure to build behind my eyes and stars to dance across my vision. I could feel myself starting to drift towards unconsciousness, floating above the streets as things went blurry. When the hand briefly loosened its grip, I gasped for breath and realized I wasn't floating, I was being carried towards an alleyway. My feet kicked out and those fingers dug in again, stealing my breath and the fight right out of me.
Two soldiers followed the one carrying me into the alleyway while a pair hung back to guard the entrance and their discarded groceries. My head was slammed against a stone wall before my captor let me slide down to the ground. Trash and filth stirred around me, disturbed as I sprawled and struggled to breathe again. I could barely hear two of them working to pull down their armored pants above the sounds of my sobbing.
"Shut up, you fucking mutant bitch," One hissed into my face. His hands grabbed my ankles and started pulling off my boots.
I just wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere but there, laying in garbage and about to be gang raped by humanity's trash. Silently I prayed someone would help me. Willed to the heavens that a decent person would wander by and speak out against them.
A knife blade flashed in front of me, wicked and impossibly large as it reflected the streetlights for a heartbeat before flicking downwards towards my pants. The solider wasn't careful as he cut the waist of my jeans, slicing into my side and drawing blood. The sight of it made him chuckle when his buddies tugged down my pants and panties.
I tried to cover myself, legs curling up protectively, but they were too strong. Hands reached out and roughly shoved me around until my face was planted against the cold, filthy ground. A booted foot pressed against the back of my neck, pinning me painfully. One said something that caused the other two to laugh. My knees hurt where something hard dug into the flesh. I willed my mind to escape when I felt a body pressing against my bare ass. Forced my brain to shut down and ignore what followed.
It didn't work.
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