Infamous Last Words | ONC 2021 Honourable Mention | ✔

Chapter 3: Algor

Like every other place promising to deliver health hazards to all unfortunate enough to be forced to visit it, Algor was surrounded by a fence. A high one, reaching for the sky with a desperation, as if it didn't want to be close to the ground, where bloodthirsty creatures roamed. It was a chain-link fence. I hated chain-link fences. There was something ominous about them; nine out of ten times, there was something dangerous lurking in the area they were meant to restrict your access to. Or multiple somethings. In this case, I knew there were many such somethings, somethings with sharp teeth and feral snarls, and I wanted nothing more than to turn away, run off and never return.

I couldn't, though. I'd agreed to a deal, and I wouldn't be able to weasel my way out of it this time. Isla would make sure of it. Those watchful, scrutinising eyes of hers would do everything in their power to make sure I wouldn't escape her grasp. The agreement we'd come to specified she had to keep me alive; if I didn't honour my side of it, she'd neglect hers as well. I quite liked being alive, and my desire to keep my heart beating was stronger than my desire to run and go where nobody, not even Death, could find me.

Isla sat cross-legged on the ground, not caring about the dewy grass that was sure to leave stains on her grey camo paints and the backpack full of supplies she'd placed beside her. An already half burnt cigarette stuck from her mouth, smoke rising up to meet drab clouds. She leaned back against the fence, leather jacket pressing into cold steel. My eyes drifted to the dirty white sign she sat beneath, to the one word red as blood written on it: danger.

The warning was meant to be for the swamp, but I still had to swallow my fear when I approached my boss. On her lap lay a tool, a weapon: a machete with a long, silver blade. Though I didn't know much about her time in the army other than that her work had involved slaying the most gruesome of monsters, I knew enough to understand Isla knew her way around weapons like that better than anyone else. She wouldn't do it, but the knowledge she could carve my vital organs out where we stood if she wanted to... the thought of it alone had me shuddering in fear.

"You look nervous."

It was too casual a statement, considering what we'd be setting out to do: we were going to risk our lives for financial gain. Granted, neither of us were strangers to that, but it felt different now. The swamp we'd dive into gave off the same reek of rotten eggs the corpse candle on my doorstep had radiated, and it reminded me that Death was looking for me. Death, that elusive, terrifying bastard... It would invite me into its realm and never let me go.

"Don't I have a right to be?"

Isla didn't reply to that. She stood up, took the cigarette out of her mouth and dropped it unceremoniously on the ground, where it landed in the wet grass. The stick disappeared under a heavy boot as she crushed it. And when she grabbed her backpack and looked at me, all fire and terror personified, I could see she was ready for business.

"It's not going to be easy, or fun," she told me as sulfur and smoke came together in my nostrils. "We should go now, before we change our minds and we end up not doing this at all."

Would that be so bad?

I didn't dare voice the question, though I'd much rather have been sitting at home, making myself an elaborate, tasty breakfast. But I'd made my decision. There was no way back. Not anymore.

Without another glance at me, Isla turned to the fence and began climbing it. She made it look easy, almost graceful. Perhaps she didn't descend from orcs after all, but from some creature gifted at climbing instead. Mountain goats came to mind.

It occurred to me I'd have to follow Miss Mountain Goat, and it also occurred to me I'd have to pray I wouldn't fall down as I tried to climb the fence. I'd climbed fences while doing my job before, but it always remained tricky. Still, I worked my way up, fingers burning as they held on to the steel, my muscles straining while I did my best not to lose my footing.