The Golden Rule

Ch 4: Very Wrong

“Think you kin get pass me! Try agin whore! Try agin” snorted the crackling voice of her attacker. Though his grip was tight enough to keep her from speaking, his shaking, bony hands were too weak to completely choke her off. She was able to pry them off, twist around him and lodge her fist deep into his jutting ribs. He spiraled breathlessly into a much fatter man who took no time pick him up by the throat and throw his limp body into the ravenous crowd. There his hoarse screams pulsated out to her as rhythmically as her own heartbeat, nearly matching its increasing speed and intensity as she saw blood, fists and jagged bits of fabric being thrown into the air.

It was the perfect time to strike. With the crowd distracted, she could easily slide her way through the dense mob, snatch at least a week’s worth of fresh food and eat like a king all day, but she couldn’t do that. She was fixed to that spot, watching the crowd turn on each other like rabid dogs over a discarded bone.

Need to git through. Need to git food. But this feels bad. No. I need to go in. I can’t watch this. So much pain here. Too much. I have to… leave.

Ignoring the protests of her aggravated stomach, she shoved her way out of the frenzied crowd. When she was finally out, her stomach, arms and thighs had scratch marks thicker than the ones on her face. She went behind a building on the other side of the road and watched the crowd continue to tear each other apart. They stopped after a few minutes and went back to scavenging for food. It was too late for her go back and expect to find food left over, but that wasn’t bothering her now. She knew that she had wasted the perfect opportunity. Perhaps the only opportunity she would get in a month, but something about the look of crowd, the screaming and the blood just made her panic. Almost the same kind of panic she had when she saw Bighead squirming helplessly on the floor. She violently shook her head to keep those thoughts from hijacking her mind again. Whatever was wrong with her yesterday was still affecting her, and she just needed to keep herself together until it passed. She couldn’t afford to be a weakling again.

The persistent growling from her stomach told her that she couldn't last another day on drinks alone. After checking the coins she had received from Tonic yesterday, she left the scene to find any place that was selling food. Unfortunately the food drop had put everyone in a hoarding mood, so she couldn't find anyone willing to part with their goods for anything less than an arm and a leg. She had to expose some of her naked skin to get the soggy half of orange she was squishing against her parched mouth.

“Only scraps from da drop, Acci?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tonic walking towards her with her hand in the paper bag.

“Shudup can't ya see I'm eatin here,” Acci sneered at her. The pressure from tightly squeezing the rind in her hands was the only thing keeping her from hitting Tonic when she saw her take a chunk of bread from the bag and place it slowly into her mouth. “You gonna keep stuffin your fat face or are you gonna tell me what you want?”

Tonic took her time smugly chewing the piece of bread and swallowing it before answering her question.

“Yeah. Y’ know dat place where I get my supply. Need ya to go back and pick it up from dem.”

“An the pay?”

Tonic pulled out a whole loaf of fluffy, brown bread and except for some chunks missing from one end, it was perfect. It had no wrinkles, black moldy spots or oozing sagging ends. Acci dropped her orange peel in disbelief.

“Two stacks of this prime piece,” Tonic said while waving loaf in front of her face and then tore off another small part. “We have a deal?”

“Deal. But bread’s not gonna work next time.” Acci's patience for Tonic waiving her money in her face was wearing thinner by the day, but they both knew that Acci could either take Tonic's crap or somehow find a man who won't pay to get her skirt off.