Chapter Text
Silence had always been a part of Calico's life, even before he knew it was silent. As a child, he had small memories of sound, possibly a parent's voice or a car driving by, but soon all that faded to the Silence.
The Silence was huge out here. In the country, on the back end of Ina’s pickup truck, the others looked at the sky with reverence, like it was God, like it had all their answers and their salvation.
Calico wasn't so sure about that. He was covered in bruises, wet, tired, and was of the mind that a loaf of bread would be good enough salvation for him. Or chocolate. He glanced at Slade beside him in the bed of the pickup. Slade was staring at the clouds, his eyes lighter and a bit foggy. That was new. His scar was also new. It ran from under his eye down his neck like a fissure, lumpy keloid tissue that had never properly healed. He was paler than he’d been when they were kids as well, Calico thought. He looked like one of those plants in Edgeline alleys; pale and droopy from too little sun.
The group rattled down the road, past old convenience stores and dry tree stumps. Broken down trailer parks and ragged national flags. This used to be logging country, according to Lark’s out-of-date map. Some people might call it aesthetic. Calico just thought it looked sad. Calico looked at Slade. He cocked his head and smiled.
-What do you think of all this open space?-
Slade shook his head. -I think it's too easy to get spotted out here. Sky's amazing though.-
Calico looked up again. The sky was amazing. It was pale blue with mare's tail clouds streaming through the top part. The sun sat as a little white dot presiding over all her clouds. On this hilltop, it looked like the world was 30% earth and 70% sky, like if you jumped off you might never come down. That was a nice idea. Calico had always wanted to fly.
The big sky made it seem like the others were meeting Silence. Lark had her arm resting on the window of the truck, and her pale head moved as she looked from the horizon to Ina and back again. They were so in love it was disgusting to watch. Calico remembered when they were kids, Lark’s scarecrow-like form would hover in the dark like a specter above Ina watching her sleep. Ina essentially had her own personal moon demon protecting her at all times.
It made him jealous to see them so close, like he was a floater in the gang. There but not present. Alone.
Lonely.
A million words for self-centered sadness. It had consumed him for years, from the moment Slade left. Maybe relying on one (inconsistent, untrustworthy- ) person for connection was a recipe for failure, but Calico couldn't bring himself to care.
He was here now, anyway.
The truck rumbled downhill and the sky shrunk. Up ahead was a ramshackle old house that might be good. Or rather, it would have to be good enough. The truck was starting to jerk ominously, and bursts of black exhaust were coming from the tailpipe.
He felt a hand tap on his shoulder and turned. Slade was smiling at him and pointed at the sky. -I hope it doesn't rain.-
Calico snorted. -I hope it doesn't hazeshift.-
Rain was not the worst of their issues. They all needed to wash anyway.
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Lady luck seemed to be in Lockbane as usual, because it was raining like the sky had personal issues with the ground. Maybe the earth had insulted the sky, and now the sky was trying to drown the earth for their insolence. Either way, Calico’s previous thought that rain was no big deal had been completely wrong. This shit was damp, cold, clammy, and was bringing back too many memories of being cold as a kid.
Calico couldn't sleep. He'd tried, but he hadn't gotten further than laying on his pallet and watching Slade’s shoulders move up and down as he breathed. Whatever Slade had been doing in all those years he’d fucked off had made his shoulders much wider and his muscles were clearly defined under his thinner shirt now that his jacket was being used as a blanket. Wrapping himself around Slade’s back would probably be warm, but Calico didn’t know the guy anymore, not really. Whatever they’d had as kids had been lost.
Eventually he gave up on sleeping and climbed the rickety stairs to the balcony on the second floor. He sat with his back to the wall so nothing or no one could sneak up on him. An old habit.
There had been a hazeshift earlier, the clapboards on the old farm house slamming as the dust and hit wind if the shift tried to break through. You can always tell when a hazeshift was about to happen, Calico had learned, by the way the sun sat fat and red in the sky.
He'd read, in one of the books Slade brought when they were kids, that the night sky used to have glowing green and purple rivers in it sometimes in the far north. Apparently it was called the aurora, and that the particles from the sun that cause hazeshifts used to make auroras.
The destruction of the ozone layer had ended that.
Despite, you know, causing the end of prior civilization and being extremely deadly, Calico kind of liked the shifts. They were powerful. They made him feel alive. Even back in his old house when the windows would shudder and slam and that weird black slime would seep in, he’d always loved storms.
Sitting there and watching the rain pound the old wood planks, Calico zoned out. Maybe it was the feeling of rain, maybe it was that he was exhausted from the truck ride, but the next thing he knew, he was being shaken lightly by the shoulder.
He cracked an eye open. Morning. Brown bob. Ina was waking him up. Somehow, despite his joints creaking from sitting folded all night, Calico made it downstairs.
The crew sat in a circle eating rehydrated powdered peanut butter on bread, all looking like they could use a few more hours of sleep. Eventually, Lark stood up, cracked her knuckles, and signed,
-We should get going. The phantom eyes are going to see this as a personal slight. Especially now we have you, Slade. That’s a nice, fat bounty on your head.-
Slade sighed. -Where do we go?-
Ina looked up at the ceiling. She and Lark had a habit of talking while they signed, which Calico figured was a good idea. -Maybe- - she twisted her fingers. -If we get far enough out, the eyes’ll have to go back to Edgeline eventually.-
Calico nodded. -If they leave Edgeline too long all their territory and market holdings will get snatched.-
The Phantom Eyes were the most powerful gang in Edgeline, and essentially the law of the land, since L.E.O. operations never reached the deeper regions of the slum. Despite the power, or probably because of it, Calico figured, the Eyes had a lot of enemies. Their reputation for torture and selling people to L.E.O. had increased people’s hatred for them to the point that anyone who tried to seize power during their absence would probably find support quickly.
Lark nodded. -If I know my brother, he’ll send his second and third back to the city to hold down the fort, but come after us personally. His ego can’t handle anything else.- She looked to Ina, -how far do we have until the truck is permanently fucked?-
-Until something breaks that I can’t fix, replace, or drive without.- Ina replied. -The transmission is probably what’s going to stop it.-
Slade looked a bit scared at the prospect of that bucket of bolts they called a vehicle getting even worse. -Ina, that thing doesn’t even have breaks!-
Ina grinned with the look of an engineer who had been given full creative freedom. -We don’t need breaks if we don’t have a reason to stop during the drive.-
Lark, who was shoving food into the bag, shrugged. Slade, looking a bit helpless at the situation, shrugged as well. Well, they all seemed to be in agreement.
-So,- Calico started, -we drive forward all day, avoid the phantom eyes, avoid L.E.O, and hope we don’t run into any gangs outside the city or get caught in the open by a shift?-
Lark nodded. -It’s the best plan we have.-
-Fuck.-
Calico started walking out, bag slung over his shoulder. There wasn’t anything else to say. They’d drive, get away from the city, and not die. It was a solid enough plan. He’d always wanted to see the world outside Edgeline anyway.