Blackbirds

One Kill Away, Ch. 2

A couple of minutes sauntered by, with both Jesse and Lawrence unsure of which direction to tow the conversation in.

"Being a Blackbird is all I've ever known." Lawrence murmured as he paced up and down in discontent. "I was too young to remember anything from before The Coda."

"That makes two of us." Jesse weighed in. "The first thing I can recall is being found by Andrew and Martha."

"Same here. But it's vague, like I'm looking at it through blurred eyes." Lawrence continued to pace.

"You were by my side when they found us, I know that." Jesse manifestly took pride in the relational isthmus between them.

"You have any idea how we ended up together?" Lawrence enquired.

"Nope. None at all." Jesse mumbled. "We must have stumbled across each other, out there, in The Bundu." Jesse glanced at the sea of arid, barren land in front of him.

"Man, I can't wait to leave this hellhole." Lawrence summoned a blob of phlegm at the rear of his throat, and catapulted it out. Jesse grimaced at both the sight and the repulsive sound of Lawrence gathering the mucus.

"Come on, Lawrence! Stop kidding yourself, it won't happen! It-"

"Andrew wouldn't have said that! He'd have been driving us forward, pushing us on!" Lawrence retorted.

"But he isn't around anymore, Lawrence!" Jesse began to reek of irritation.

"I wish he was still here, Jesse. The man was like a father." Lawrence exclaimed in a tone of forlorn. "I know you two didn't see eye to eye, but come on, surely you'd prefer him to that nutjob?"

Jesse halted, as if his arteries were filled with laboured, sluggish mercury. Lawrence was referring, with a striking lack of grace, to Martha. How typical of Lawrence to divert the conversation towards conflict. For Lawrence, conflict had a certain allure, a seduction, a romance to it.

"That nutjob has a name." Jesse snapped. "And you should hold her in the same high esteem as Andrew. Martha has been like a mother to all of us."

"Exactly, Jesse. Has been. Not anymore." Lawrence outstretched his fingers and violently drove his palm into his own forehead. He bore all the hallmarks of a temperamental, volatile young man. "She can patch people up, yeah, I get that, but she can't string two goddamn words together!" Vexation now seemed to be seeping through Lawrence's pores. "For all we know, we could be one kill away from a Hauler coming for us. Martha could be that kill!"

Jesse glanced up towards the sweeping, oppressive blanket overhead - a mass of lethargic clouds, with no fresh indications that a Hauler had punctured through.

"I'm sticking with my decision. We keep her alive." Jesse announced, his voice reinforced with a steely assertiveness.

The dispirited Lawrence retired from the discussion and marched towards a small shelter, about twenty metres away from where they had previously been sat.

The shelter was an unorganised heap of blemished bricks and boulders, with broad tree trunks distributed throughout its structure, presumably to add solidarity. It was roughly the height of a double decker bus and the width of a theatre stage. In the periphery were derelict buildings, not fit or safe for residential purposes.

Lawrence halted in front of the doorway and swung a spiteful kick at the floor, churning up dust, visible for Jesse to see.

Just as Lawrence was about to enter the refuge, Bert emerged through a distasteful beige door curtain. Lawrence negligently bulldozed into him, which sent Bert tumbling to the ground.

"What's his problem?" Bert shouted to Jesse as he climbed to his feet, sweltering in the slipstream left behind by Lawrence.

Jesse waited until Bert came closer to respond.

"Same old, same old." Jesse uttered after a delay.

"The usual tantrums?"

"Yep." Jesse affirmed. "He wants to kill Martha." He then disclosed.

"You what?" Bert shrieked in disbelief. "My word, that boy is unpredictable." He then gouged a blackhead from beneath the skin of his awfully crooked nose.

Bert was scrawny and skeletal, and must have been around the same age as Jesse. The outlines of his ribs were embossed into his skin and his body was vacant of any muscle. His dual heritage had also blessed his skin with a golden undertone - quite what his heritage was though, he didn't know. Although a dependable friend of Jesse's, this staunchness was sometimes irreconcilable with his belief that he always knew best.

"You didn't give in, did you?" Bert asked. He raised his faint, blonde eyebrows for the most transient of seconds.

"No, no, no. I stood my ground." Jesse affirmed.

"And he didn't cave your head in?" Bert countered. "Well, either he's got it in for me, or he's got a soft spot for you."

Bert had been a recipient of Lawrence's tremendous might on a previous occasion: a thunderous jab to his nose, to be precise – hence the misshapen nostrils.

Horrific at the time, Bert's grotesque face was an unidentifiable mess, disfigured and bathed in blood. Whilst his sagging tongue was only temporary, his nose had been permanently rearranged.

"I'd probably say the former," Jesse teased. "Look, if he gets too reckless, Pete will bring him back down to earth."

Pete was the only Blackbird in their farm who was unfazed by Lawrence's physical supremacy. He was a pale, pasty white adult, daunting in stature yet humble and grounded. He also had coal-black hair which was drastically receding, almost to the extent where it was laughable.

"And what about if Lawrence turns on me, and Pete isn't around?" Bert proposed. "What happens when he loses it, when he flies off the handle, and no one is there to restrain him?"

Jesse considered the scenario. "Well, put it this way – I doubt I'd be able to match him for strength. You'd be on your own, my friend."

Bert grinned nervously to mask his unease and apprehension.

Jesse, meanwhile, brought his stubby thumb close to his neck. He then traced it across his textured skin, imitating a neck slit with the admittedly blunt tool that was his thumb. His eyes outspread to reveal his ivory-coloured sclera, and his tongue overhanging his lower bloated lip, he stared at the agitated Bert to try and unnerve him.