Sally
walked along a tired concrete path. It was flanked on either side by
evergreens, except they weren't green; they were black as if, even up
close, they were silhouetted against the sunless pink and yellow sky.
She felt like she had been walking for hours, but she kept speeding
up. She wanted to put as much space as possible between herself and
Daisy Chain – and his homicidal lingerie bunny. She couldn't get
away from them fast enough. But she wasn't exactly comfortable on
her own, either. Every sound made her heart jump and every crack in
the pavement made her skin crawl. She couldn't shake the feeling
that she was being watched, followed, plotted against and she had no
idea how to wake herself up.
Sally's
mind went back to the hunter. That's what the slutty rabbit had
called him – that had been her excuse. The guy's a hunter.
The guy was a hunter. No one dressed like that who wasn't, or
didn't want people to think that they were. And that had been
enough of a reason for Daisy Chain to condone his murder, apparently.
Sally wasn't fond of hunters, as a breed. She couldn't figure out
how anyone derived enjoyment from killing animals, and as for the
hunt itself, tracking an unarmed creature of lower intelligence with
gun from a safe distance didn't seem very sporting to her – but she
wouldn't want to see someone killed for it; and the way he had
died. She could still remember it, every detail, every ruby drop
that had sprayed through the air, his face contorted in pain and fear
and the way that, at the end, his eyes just went blank, and when he
fell, there wasn't even a thud. Even sound had stopped caring
about him.
She
was angry with Daisy Chain. Not just angry with him; disgusted by
him. She couldn't believe that her fuzzy, friendly childhood hero
was actually a monster, a calculating killer, devoid of compassion
and able to witness a murder with apathy. But he had saved her,
hadn't he? She had stopped moving in the park and he had
stayed back to protect her. If they had all rushed at once, that
group of figments could have killed him and God only knew what would
have happened to Sally if they had. And now, thanks to Daisy Chain,
they didn't have a leader, they were wandering around Nod with no
purpose, no direction—I hope they're not wandering anywhere near
here, said a small voice, unearthing itself from her
subconscious. Actually, she realized, she could be quite close to
them – them or people like them. Daisy Chain had said that Nod was
full of raiders. They could be anywhere.
Sally
couldn't help imagining Thrib, leaking black ink, dragging his
half-dead body after her, calling out her name. She smiled, just a
little, when she realized that he would be calling out Thally,
Thally, but when she thought of him using the lobster thing as
his henchman, her smile faded. He could be out there, right now,
looking for her.
A
heavy hand landed on Sally's back.
“There
you are,” Daisy Chain said, as Sally's heart slid down out of her
throat. “What the Hell are you doing?”
“Let
go of me!” Sally shouted. She tried to spring forward, but Daisy
Chain tightened his grip on her shoulder. “Let me go!”
It came out as a high-pitched shriek. Despite Sally's insistence,
her struggles were in vain. “You
let her kill that guy,” Sally hissed, still trying to pull
free. “I saw you.”
“Yeah,
I did. So what?”
Sally
felt that she could have coped with almost any answer, have
graciously accepted any offers of regret, but the callousness of his
response made her sick. “I hate you,” she told him – and
suddenly she could remember telling him the same thing all those
years ago, when he'd told her she was never going to see him again.
Sitting in the plastic yellow chair by her tea party table, too mad
to get up and give him a hug goodbye.
Daisy
Chain released Sally as she surged forward again and she fell onto
her face. He did not offer to help her up. “This is the way life
is here, now,” he told her. “That guy came here to hunt—to
kill figments and steal our Dust. To get high. And I'm supposed to
do what? Let it happen? Tell Charm-Charm, Sorry, I know hunters
killed your whole family and they've been invading our world and
murdering our children for centuries, but would you mind not
killing this one; Sally's lurking in the bushes over there and it
might upset her delicate stomach? I don't think so. Life is
hard. It's ugly. Deal with it.”
Sally
tried to pick herself up.
“I
thought I was doing you a favour by bringing you here. I thought I
could keep you safer if I kept you with me.”
Daisy
Chain looked exhausted. He gave Sally his hand and hauled her
upright. Once she was standing, he stepped back awkwardly, looked
down and shoved his hand-paws into the pockets of his jeans. “I
didn't mean for any of this, you know.”
“I
know,” Sally heard herself say it before she was aware of having
thought it – but it was true, it was written clearly on Daisy
Chain's face. “But, the blood...”
Daisy
Chain looked up at her, confused. “It wasn't blood, Sally. It was
Dust.”
“I
thought Dust was blue.”
“Some
of it is. It depends who it comes from. She drained his Dust—”
“It
looked like blood,” Sally muttered under her breath. “If it was
Dust, why was it red?”
“Because
blood is red.”
“I
thought blood was red because of iron.”
“Maybe
his Dust had iron in it. Stop trying to make sense of everything;
you're wasting your time.”
“And
the way he died—”
“He's
not dead. I've tried to explain this to you. She drained his Dust,
which means on Earth, he's a vegetable. Which is worse. And I hate
to say it, Sally, but the same thing will happen to you.” He sighed
a long, sad sigh and looked back at his feet. “It's my fault,” he
told her. “They're only after you because of me.”
Sally
was having trouble getting used to the speed of the place.
Everything, including her own thoughts and emotions changed so
quickly, without warning. Now she wanted to forgive Daisy Chain, hug
him, to make him feel better. He looked so wounded, so vulnerable,
so—“Are you wearing a thong?”
The
question snapped Daisy Chain out of whatever revelry he had been lost
to. He looked up at Sally. “Yeah. So?”
Sally
glanced at the two red strips of fabric strung across Daisy Chain's
boney hips and realized that they had always been there. Somewhat
uncomfortably, she also realized that there was something decidedly
close-minded about commenting on anyone's choice of underthings, most
especially if that person was a giant talking rabbit. She tried not
to let her eyes linger. The only appropriate answer was a
non-committal one. “Ah,” she said.
There
was some uncomfortable shifting on both sides.
“Look,
I know you didn't mean for any of this,” Sally told him after a
moment. “And I know you've been doing everything you've been doing
to try to help me. But this place... I can't stay here. It's weird
here. It's wrong.” She paused before adding, “Um, no offence.”
Daisy
Chain shook his head. “None taken. Nod used to be beautiful.
Parts of it still are. But between the raiders and the humans, it's
a nightmare.”
It
took a second for what he'd said to sink in and part of it caught in
Sally's brain.
“Humans caused this?”
Daisy
Chain shrugged. “Yeah. No offence.”
If you are enjoying Quicksand, please come back soon for the next chapter. In the meantime, you may like my novel Aigaion Girl.