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DUST AND MIRE FESTEUNE
"Spiky digits do threaten to hold"And do grasp at and find the holes"In the flesh that I had torn from myself."To feel something, even imbalance engulfed!"This terror shrouds that no one should see."I have stared into its eye and seen its worth,"I have fought and battled, and come to this;"An empty husk with nothing prepared"To fill the void left much too large."The only hope exists, with the tools at hand"Become the wits I had and my refusal to stop."Just give me my worth and take the rest. "Twenty more years or thereabouts"Just a score more years and I will be filled,"Then you can do as per your wishes, "I just need time for the only thing I have."That which I was born with cannot be denied."Take that from me and I have nothing at all."Until the drained old husk remains and rots"To say that this was my legacy. It's nothing."
"Why do you speak that? It says nothing about our lives." asked Dust, of his Brother. They were bedded down for the night in a derelict building, almost upon the Battle Grounds themselves.
These siblings were Scavengers, Provisions Runners. It was a really dangerous job only for the hardy - or extremely stupid. More often than not though, it was the most desperate who would dare undertake such a task. But they were to lose their house within Freeride if they didn't go out there, amongst the Machines.
There weren't just bits and pieces out there; sometimes things of value turned up, as those who lived long before the time of What Came Before left behind hidden treasures. The Brothers, however, were on a simple run for spare parts; bolts, springs - everything and anything they could carry in abundance, to go into building more Machines, so that more Provisions Runners could venture out into the Battle Grounds and risk their ultimately pointless lives too.
"I like it." replied Mire, the Brother.
"I noticed."
"The Ballad of Fayney Ware; it speaks to me about, I dunno, our plight in the Battle Grounds. All this danger, begging for life? Doing what it takes to survive? That sort of thing."
"That and a bag of spanners will get you bugger all, my friend. Still, if it makes you happy -"
"It does." snapped Mire.
"Well, good."
"Good."
"Right."
"Right." Dust was aware this exchange could take some time to resolve, so changed the observable, "Over there!" he insisted, pointing randomly. Mire made for the undetermined spot, despite the hour and the sleep he would need for the following day.
"Wow!" Mire exclaimed, squatting down to push some house bricks aside, "You were right, Dust! Look what I got!" Mire returned to the camp, holding the thing before him, reverentially, as though it were a holy relic.
Dust stared at it. He couldn't believe his eyes, "You know how rare that is?" he said, almost rhetorically.
"I know! And I found it!"
"Well, technically I found it. You just collected it."
Mire smiled and jostled his Brother, in their little banter exchange. Dust pretended to be amused, but inside something had switched on a light and Dust was beginning to be blinded by it.
Soon Mire fell asleep, clutching it. Dust himself eventually fell asleep, but only after he had been staring at it for an hour or so. He spoke a mantra to aid Morpheus slumber.
"I promised. I did. I promised. I promised I would protect him. I told her I would. And I must. I will. Believe me, I will." But who was he trying to convince?
#
It was morning and, after breakfast, the Brothers entered the Battle Grounds, keeping low.
"Give it to me, Mire. I'll look after it until we're done."
"It's alright, Dust. It makes me feel brave to hold onto it." smiled Mire.
"You might lose it."
"I won't."
"But you might."
"I won't, I promise, Dust."
"Well, upon your head be it." said Dust, through gritted teeth.
So they scavenged, under broken Machines, through a hail of bullets, across deafening expanses - stopping, hiding in the trees or behind the brick buildings barely standing. They found many parts - more than they really needed. Dust never took his eyes from his Brother, however. Dust was blinded by envy.
"Are we heading back to camp now, Dust?" asked Mire, dodging a splintering of brick from an explosion dangerously close.
"What? Oh. Yes. Yes we are."
Something was taking over Dust, and he couldn't see it.
#
Dust dreamt that night, in between the screaming awakenings of remembered horror, of the time he had nearly drowned his brother in the stream of piss from the Outhouses in Freeride. Then, it had been over a little rock, a pebble that Mire had found, just in front of where Dust had chosen to sit, resting from the game they had just finished playing. Mire turned the stone over and over. It wasn't particularly fascinating, but Dust couldn't help it. He wanted it. He had sat by it after all. He found it, kind of.
But Mire kept it. He played with it, rolled it into some other equally uninspiring rocks, laughing happily in his tiny, stupid innocence. The next thing Dust remembered, he was holding Mire's head in the stream of piss. Luckily for Mire it was too shallow and he was able to struggle for breath. Shocked, Dust had removed his hands and Mire sat up, crying - tears mingling with other people's piss, running down his face. Mire had run home and told Mom.
When Dust had arrived home, there wasn't the thrashing he expected. Mom just hugged him and made him promise to look after his Brother, not to try and kill him again.
And it only happened once more, this time with a spilled drink, but eventually Dust got it and it never happened again. He loved his Brother. He wanted only the best for him. So why would the selfish little shit not give up his thing? It was Dust's anyway, by rights. The dream faded, followed by the image of some Machines being fucked by a giant dildo. He had no idea where that had come from, or what it meant. Fitfully, he continued to sleep.
#
The next day, they broke camp and began the long, long walk back to Freeride, over broken ground from broken surrounds, which had left broken lives. Dust wondered what it had looked like before What Came Before. People as far as the eye could see? Tall buildings blocking out the natural light? Food in abundance - too much, in fact, and most of it going to waste?
But no wars. No battles. There couldn't have been.
So much beauty, so much opulence; so much freedom. Who would want to war in a world like that?
The Brothers eventually found one of the common spots for Scavengers to camp. It had good shade and running water, with plenty of shelter. But all that occupied Dust's mind was that damned object.
"Let me hold it for a while, eh, Mire?"
"What?"
Dust suppressed a jolt of anger within him, "You know what, my friend. The object."
"Nah, it's alright, Dust. Got it tucked up safely in my pocket, covered by my hanky."
"You won't even let me look at it?"
"Why should I?" joked Mire. He seemed unaware of what had become awake in Dust; a beast that needed only an excuse to climb out and pounce.
Dust maintained a smile, "Now, now. No need to be -"
"Look, Dust. It's mine. I found it - it's mine. I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to take it off me, like always. Not this time. This time, it's mine and I'm going to keep it! Understand?"
Dust tried to say, "I know what you're getting at, but trust me, I only want to look at it." Instead, he leapt over the fire and landed heavily on his Brother, knocking the wind out of him. The struggle went on for long minutes. Each Brother got in a cheap shot when they could, quite a few below the belt, until they separated.
And when they did, one of them was dead. One of them was in possession of the object. That Brother returned to Freeride, without stopping.
#
This brother, he stood before the Ruler of Freeride now, exhausted but satisfied. He had done what they had set out to do, and Silver Teeth was now in possession of the bag of stuff.
"Brother not make it?" asked Silver Teeth, examining the hoard of useful bits in the bag.
"I'm afraid not. Got hit by shrapnel, right here," Mire pointed to his head, "Went down like a sack of - uhm -"
"A sack of spare parts?" added Silver Teeth, helpfully.
"Yeah. Like that."
"Shame. My condolences."
"Thank you, Sir. Uhm, do you know where I can find the Fence?" asked Mire, unsettled on his feet. He had something burning a hole in his pocket, desperate for release. Still, he thought, it had been worth it.
Well, hadn't it?
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