Morgan, Former FBI

Chapter 1: What the World Is Now

11/11/2031 - Morgan

It was a chilly night in the middle of November, the kind that settled into your bones and stayed there for the season. The rain from the night before had left a series of pools scattered across the cracked asphalt, shallow things that made you watch your step and never quite reached the gutter. The full moon provided enough light for that, casting the world in a silver sheen, not unlike that day.

It had been five years since.

The alley itself was a dump, squeezed between an ugly pharmacy and a Chinese restaurant. Both buildings had three boarded up windows between them like blind eyes, the wood worn by time and weather. Rusted barrels and old crates full of junk that hadn't quite sold lined the walls, creating a maze of garbage that made the spot perfect for this kind of business. Our two trucks sat at one end, some of the cargo already unloaded, just enough to show we had the full payment.

Besides me, Yuri was doing that thing with his magazine again—sliding it out, checking it, sliding it back in with a soft click. The motion was rhythmic, almost meditative. His deep blue eyes were always marginally too wide, like perpetually wishing something into existence. His dark brown ponytail had been cut shorter recently, now only grazing the back of his neck instead of blending with the suit jacket. Some loose strands framed his sharp face. He would let it grow further, but some maintenance mattered these days.

I took a drag from my cigarette, letting the smoke curl up and fade away. The suits had been my thing, originally. Pops had been old-fashioned, but Mother especially had always made sure we looked presentable. I didn't wear much else during the years in the Bureau. After we met, it didn't take long before Yuri started wearing them. I probably rubbed off on him. It wasn't particularly proper for the end of the world, but it felt more right than the rest.

"They're late," Johan said, pacing past me for the third time in as many minutes. His suit hung a bit loose on his frame, too big at the shoulders, the navy blue going well enough with his messy chestnut hair and that semblance of a mustache. Judging from his face when we left, he had clearly just gotten his hands on it and was liking it. I took another drag. He had just started making these runs, no need to be harsh yet.

"They could be doing runs for other clients," Albert's voice came from my right, flat and unhurried. "They might not even show up tonight."

I glanced over at him. He stood perfectly still in his grey getup, staring at the brick wall across from us as if a movie was being shown on it. If it was one he had seen already, I couldn't tell. The best way to describe him was a boyish charm, the type that would have gotten girls' attention back then. Smooth features, round wireframe glasses, and dense blonde hair that managed to look good even nowadays. Like Yuri though, what got you were the eyes. That calm, analytical hazel that creeped you out when it didn't look bored. He wore a similar look when he showed up at our group's doorstep, all bruised up and without glasses, asking to join like he was asking a neighbor for a cup of sugar.

"It's true," I concurred, flicking ash onto the wet ground. "Everyone knows it's time to buy. Women are always cheaper right after a big raid, a bunch of them don't quite pass any mark to be worth the food for some people."

Johan looked over like I had killed a stray the other day, but his stomping stopped at least.

Some time passed before the hum of engines began growing through the quiet, Yuri's clicking stopping at the sound. Two trucks rolled into view at the far end of the alley, headlights painting one wall in a harsh white before cutting out. Doors soon opened.

Three climbed out from the first. The first seemed to be in his early thirties, carrying a practical frame, a head of short dark hair, and an annoyed expression that suggested he'd rather be anywhere else. A woman followed him out, with an athletic build, blonde hair tied in a ponytail, showing a small red area on her forehead. She moved with trained efficiency, rifle slung over her shoulder with the comfort of someone who had used it before. You could tell at a glance she was claimed, be it from her posture, the way she stayed close to him, the calm but alert eyes already gauging us. His, then.

Trailing the two was a designated bundle of muscles. He was at least 6'5 and built like a brick, with mean features that looked like they'd been carved with a dull axe. The type of brute in high demand who enjoyed the wrong things a little too much.

From the second truck came three more. One looked in his mid-twenties, wearing a casual smirk like his favorite watch. Besides him walked a short girl with black hair cut into a cute bob, doe-eyed and coy in a way that would've been innocent if you didn't know better. His hand found her ass like it was the most natural thing in the world. Claimed, obviously. Another guy got off from the passenger seat, average in most ways that mattered, eyes a bit anxious and wary.

As the first group stepped forward, the second one moved to the back of the second truck and dropped the tailgate. The sound of muffled sobbing drifted across the alley. Three naked women were forcibly pulled out from inside of it, the group barely avoiding falling on the ground from the tight rope binding their hands and ankles. The tailgate closed back up, leaving one voice inside it.

I tossed out my cigarette and moved to meet them in the center, Yuri trailing me to my right side. Albert and Johan remained closer to the trucks, watching. As we got closer, I noted the metallic ball hanging innocently from the first man's belt. Each group stopped ten feet apart.

"Henry," I said to the man up front, who matched the description.

"Morgan," he greeted back in the same form. I glanced to the three bound women behind him, one of them still quietly sobbing, then back to him.

"The deal was four women."

He gritted his teeth, jaw working like the words tasted bad coming out. "Felicia here will round it up," he gestured to the blonde with the rifle, who stiffened slightly. "That last one is for another client."

That piqued my interest. Most groups had strict boundaries about these matters. Once a woman was claimed by a member, it wasn't good practice to give space for complaints. The one thing worse than that though, was men more focused on claiming rather than shooting in the middle of a raid. I eyed the woman again, still radiating competence despite the clear displeasure written in every line of her body. Someone must have really jumped the gun to be asked to part ways with her. It wasn't good for us either, though. A claimed woman like her was trouble to watch over.

"We'll be paying a fifth for her," I countered, gauging his reaction. His face hardened before conceding with a tight nod. I weighed it for a moment, before moving on myself. There were better ways to ruse a plant inside an opposing group.

"Neil," Henry called to Wary Eyes. "Check the cargo."

"Albert," I said.

They moved simultaneously, Neil walking toward our crates as Albert drifted by him, moving with that usual unhurried gait. They watched the two of them go, Shitty Smirk's eyes lingering on Johan.

I walked up close to the women, lingering in each of their eyes once I stood before them. They all looked up with that question clear in their faces—if I was the guy who would claim them. Good start.

The first was a redhead, maybe early twenties, with the kind of face that suggested she'd been pretty once. Now she just looked haunted. My eyes quickly went over her body. Her arms and torso showed old bruises, faded yellow-green. Previous owner, probably. The New Crimson weren't ones to damage merchandise before selling it.

The second was the sobbing one, with short blonde hair and eyes red from crying. She flinched when I touched her chin, tilting her head to check for injury. A few scrapes, but nothing infected.

The third one, a petite raven-haired girl with sharp features, gave me a glare that could've stripped paint from a wall. Some fight inside her then. I grabbed her head with the subtlety of a doctor, pulling a small flashlight and flashing it in her eyes. She winced, trying to pull back, but I held her firm as I examined her pupils.

"Open your mouth," I told her, taking my hand off her head.

A brief flash of confusion passed her face, but she opened it tentatively. I pushed it further open with my fingers, studying the inside with the light, ignoring her small gag reflex. The roof of her mouth looked normal, no signs of recent usage.

"Looks fine," I told Henry as the girl coughed, hints of tears showing in her eyes. The glare was back, though. Good.

Moving towards Felicia, I heard a short whisper from the side. Looking over, I watched the short one with the doe eyes nodding to her owner before detaching from him, the girl then sauntering toward Johan, all hips and practiced innocence.

"Hey, big boy," she chirped, putting on a pose. "Ever heard of the New Crimson's Passion House?"

Johan stiffened slightly, color creeping into his face. She pressed closer, hugging his arm, trailing a finger along his sleeve. "You can get all the benefits of a claimed girl. We make sure to treat clients like owners." She looked up with her cutest smile. "Just ask for Rebecca there."

I caught Yuri's eye as Johan mumbled something noncommittal. Nothing amiss, they told me. I moved on with the inspection. Making a scene over it would only complicate the transaction.

Felicia remained stiff as a board as I went over her, her measured eyes simply asking if killing me would let her stay with her owner. I gave a similar inspection as the others, mostly for signs of illness. She flinched only once to please Henry, but not enough to disturb my examination. The small trauma on her head looked treated, the color not worrying me.

"All good, Boss," Neil announced as he and Albert came back. "Two crates of canned foodstuff, one crate of salted meat, four of soap, five car batteries, and thirty gallons of gasoline. It's all there."

"You can keep the meat and a battery," Henry proposed, looking over to see if I had any objections. I had none. He signaled Neil to start bringing the supplies over, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

Albert went over to pick up the bound women, looking over the trio. "You tie them way too close," he commented flatly, taking out a knife from his pocket. He quickly cut the ropes tying each one's legs to the others, leaving only their hands bound. The women looked to him with a hint of confusion, but his face told them not to question it. Yuri joined him as he moved them to our side of the alley, giving one last glance to Johan as Neil passed by with two gallons.

"We could also just do it out here, you know?" the girl suggested, pressing her chest on Johan, her tone growing a bit conspiratorial. "No need to go through the gang."

"I—" he stammered, eyes meeting mine for a moment as he tried looking anywhere else. "I have a girlfriend, alright?" He hushed to the girl.

Rebecca's smile never wavered. "Really? Then she's a lucky girl. But is she treating her man right?"

I turned back to watch Albert and Yuri unzip crates. The kid needed to learn to keep his composure, but at least he wasn't completely falling apart. I might have to be harsh later.

Henry turned away from us, walking back toward Felicia. Their conversation was low, but I could read the body language well enough, her strained face, the clear protests, and his posture having none of it. When he finished, she stood there for a long moment before approaching me.

"My owner says I am to obey you from now on," she informed, her voice carrying only a hint of distaste.

"Good," I said, not wanting to entertain that any further. She moved to a nearby crate to take off her gear. Brick Man leaned on the wall next to her, his stare at me dislikeable.

"Shame," Henry sighed with a hint of exhaustion, coming beside me. "I had started exchanging blowjobs at the end of these. Not that it would happen this time, since you didn't come with any women."

I nodded flatly, not commenting on the habit.

"Can we at least share a cig?" he asked. I pulled out my pack, offering him one of mine without comment. He took it, nodding his appreciation before lighting up my smoke.

"It is weird though," he continued after a moment. "Why don't you guys have women in your group?" He grew a quick smirk. "Does your leader hog all the pussy for himself?"

I didn't answer, wondering whether he'd hog all the cigarette for himself. He didn't seem too pleased with my silence.

"Say..." Brick Man's voice cut through from our side, deep and rough. "You people wouldn't be with the Sanctuary, would you?"

The question hung in the air with the smoke.

"Of course not," I lied naturally. But it came out a second too late.

A subtle tension fell around me. From the corner of my eye, I could see Brick Man's hands drifting toward his holster. Neil stopped mid-step with a gasoline can, eyes puzzled. Even Shitty Smirk stopped watching Rebecca whore herself out. Felicia noticed the tension and froze, hand still holding the last magazine she took off. I kept my expression neutral, my hand unmoving. There were too many guns, too close together. Henry was right beside me, the best move now would be-

A metallic clatter echoed through the alley. A similar sound repeated shortly afterwards, an object bouncing on concrete one, two, three times before splashing onto the water. Every eye turned toward the source.

Albert stood near the back of one of our trucks, his face perfectly blank as he watched the knife disappear into the drain.

"Oops," his voice carried no amusement. "Dropped my knife, silly me." A pause. "Morgan, can I borrow yours?"

I started walking back toward our side immediately, measuring each step. Not too fast, not too slow, ignoring the piercing glares in the back of my head. Thirty feet remained. I watched Albert's and Yuri's faces for signs, their expressions calm like stone guardians, not a single motion from Yuri as he held onto the confused women. Twenty feet remained. Johan and Rebecca finally noticed the relative silence, confusion flickering across their features as they turned towards me.

Good enough.

I spun and shot Henry in the chest.

The gunshot cracked through the alley like thunder. Henry's expression shifted from rage to surprise to nothing as he crumpled, my cigarette falling from his fingers.

Yuri's wide eyes went to Johan. "Move."

Johan did move, faster than I'd given him credit for. He caught Rebecca as she tried to break away, wrapping her in an armlock and dragging her behind two empty barrels stacked on the right side of the alley. I dove behind the crates on the left side, Yuri hitting the cluttered ground beside me with the three unclaimed women pressed flat behind us.

A wretched screech rang through the night. The sound was raw, primal, worse than that of a parent watching their children die. I peeked to see Felicia stumbling forward toward Henry's body, face a mess, her hand reaching out—

Brick Man's massive hand grabbed her arm and yanked her back, his sheer size offsetting her movement. I managed a quick shot on her leg as he dragged her behind cover. Three return shots where my head had been stopped a second, drawing feminine screams from beside me.

I counted their positions. Brick Man, Shitty Smirk, and the soon-to-be-reclaimed Felicia were up front. Neil seemed a bit further back to their exit. Henry's body lay in the middle ground, slightly closer to their side, a dark pool spreading beneath him.

Without warning, the redhead woman got up and dashed the short distance to the exit, Yuri's grab barely missing her. She was 3 steps away before more gunfire tore through the air, and she soon joined Henry on the ground. I looked towards her loose bonds, right next to all the sharp junk.

"You should think of something fast, Morgan," Albert said from the corner of the alley, timing some peeks and shots around it like it was instruction, not looking at the body. I glanced over at Johan wrestling Rebecca in a loose ****, his face strained like he was struggling with a grown man. The girl thrashed and flailed with all her strength, like the mere thought of being held down even a second longer was unbearable.

"Boss!" Johan yelled, wincing as Rebecca's nails dug small red pools in his arm. "I can't hold her like this!"

Two options sat before me. I could try hopping over and knocking the girl out, my eyes simply lingering on the redhead. Even then, Johan wasn't a good enough shot. I couldn't hear Felicia's screams from the other side anymore, we had maybe 30 seconds before they claimed her again.

I reloaded my gun. "Do it."

Yuri spared me a shocked glance, a small specter glazing over his vision. I held mine firm though, and he soon resigned, gritting his teeth.

Yuri's hand grabbed the sobbing woman's arm firmly. She yelped softly at the touch, seeming confused for a moment, before letting out a half-uttered plea as she tried pulling it back.

"I claim you."

Her body went stiff for a moment, the small struggle she mustered melting away soon after. The fear she felt, the tears she cried, all of it replaced by an all-encompassing certainty. Her face softened as she took Yuri under a new light, eyes shining with devotion.

"Walk out shooting this," I told her, handing over my pistol. "Don't die until the mag is empty."

Instead of looking terrified, she hesitantly took the gun, examining it like it was some mildly curious device. She then turned to Yuri for confirmation.

Yuri looked away.

I cut her loose and waited for their next salvo to end, signaling her to go. She stood from behind our cover and raised her pistol awkwardly, hands steady as she took the first steps forward. The first bullet caught her in the shoulder. She staggered but kept moving forward, firing two shots on their position. Albert and Yuri joined her, using her distraction to take better aim before firing. The second hit landed on her side. She hunched forward but didn't stop, her sheer **** of purpose keeping her walking and shooting back twice more.

The third bullet hit her in the chest. She took one more arduous step, returning three unsteady shots at the source. Shitty Smirk leaned out to finish her.

And Yuri's shot took him in the head.

Shitty Smirk jerked back, head twitching for a bit. He collapsed alongside the sobbing woman, body falling sideways from his cover, a red hole above his right eye oozing contents onto the asphalt.

Perfect.

- Otto

This shit was going bad fast.

Gustav's corpse stared at nothing from the other wall, his blood and idiot parts mixing with the water. I heard a sound from Neil farther behind once he peeked to look. "He's fucking dead, isn't he?" he asked like he couldn't figure it out. Great.

Felicia at least was holding it together again, shooting short salvos from her rifle before ducking back down. A piece of her shirt was torn out and tied around her leg, the cloth red like her face. Had to wait a full fucking minute of her screaming and then some to claim her again.

"We should pull back," the bitch said, her voice utterly calm as she fired another spray over Henry's body. "At least you should. I'll give you cover."

I considered it, my eyes drifting to the gasoline gallons Neil had put nearby. I could throw them over, light them up, and use the wall of fire and smoke to get out. But then what would I tell the boss? That we ran from a gunfight, left the merchandise and cargo, let Gustav and Henry die? Felicia waited patiently for my response, her eyes putting a subtle pressure for me to get out.

"Fuck that," I told the bitch. "We hold here. Neil will—"

A shadow popped from around the cover, the novel figure quickly earning two rifle sights pointing at it. Rebecca noticed us with a cheeky smile, a fat red handprint marking her face and mouth. She held up a grenade on her right hand, its pin nowhere in sight.

"Heya," she chirped, dropping the thing on her feet.

Felicia dove to cover it with her body, but it was too late.

The world went red and white.

- Morgan

The explosion shook the alley, causing some debris to shake off the top of the walls. Flames erupted from their position as the gasoline caught, turning their end into a small inferno. The smell hit a second later, a distinct mix of burnt rubber, gasoline, and something sickly sweet.

A couple of moments passed, no sound I could hear coming from their side. I stepped around the cover, scanning for movement, before marching towards the center. Johan and Albert moved with me, their weapons ready. Yuri trailed back a bit, tugging the remaining girl with him.

I squatted near the sobbing woman's body, my pistol still held on her cooling hand. I retrieved it without much ceremony, trying not to think of what I saw on her face. There were no more bullets inside the magazine. Henry remained nearby, the cigarette we'd shared drowned in his blood. I quickly fetched the truck keys from him after reloading, taking a deep breath as I walked around the flames first.

Brick Man was still twitching on the other side, a good chunk of his side torn apart by shrapnel, one leg bent at a bad angle. His mouth worked, trying to form words with lungs that no longer functioned properly. Besides him, a couple of distinct shapes were still being eaten away inside the flames, nothing recognizable left. He tried pushing himself away as the fire cracked near him. I put a round in his head.

"Johan, you and the girl come with me," I told him as he appeared coughing and confused from the sound. I began moving towards their vehicles, hoping I could siphon the second. "Albert and Yuri will load our things back up an-"

The soft click of a hammer made me raise my gun, Johan quickly noticing and following. Neil had emerged from behind the far truck, alongside the woman from the truck bed. He had one hand firmly on her shoulder, using her as a human shield, his pistol pressed to her temple. The woman, a tall, short-haired brunette, offered no resistance, her body automatically adjusting to cover the most of Neil's profile against our line of fire.

"Stay there or I'll blow her head off!" Neil screamed, pressing the barrel harder against her skull. Instead of flinching or pleading, the girl leaned her head into it.

"Don't shoot yet," I told Johan quietly.

"Y-you are with the Sanctuary, right?" he asked, right hand shaking slightly. "You fucking goody-two-shoes, you still think you are better than everyone else?" He spat, voice cracking slightly. A pause followed, his eyes narrowing. "Least we're honest about what the world is now."

I did not answer him. He had come on the passenger seat, right? And Shitty Smirk's body had caught fire.

"Look," Neil said, seemingly done with his little rant. "Just let me take Henry's ride. Who knows, maybe you'll get a chance at freeing her one of these days, right? She survives this way. Otherwise I paint the truck with her brains right here."

I didn't lower my weapon. The moonlight caught on the woman's face, her green eyes shining with a quiet resolution. She herself would hold the gun for him if he asked. No chance for a clear shot.

"Not interested," I said, pulling the trigger.