Behind you.
"Well well ... what do we have here?"
Talith slowly turned around, still poised upon the tall block of concrete that might have once been part of a building. Below her, surrounding her position in a half-circle, were six scavangers, all of them armed with crude but brutal-looking weapons. They were part of a gang, she knew, and like all such Others, were prickly about territory. She rolled her eyes.
"What're your loyalties?" the man who had first spoken demanded. He seemed to be the leader of their little group, and held out sword-like object fashioned from twisted metal. That would hurt.
"Myself," Talith answered shortly. "I don't belong to any clan."
"Liar," came the immediate reply, from a woman with long and matted brown hair. She looked up at the younger Other with open hostility. "No one comes to the surface by themselves."
Talith made a show of looking around. "Hey! Gang! Get out here and back me up!" She cocked her head and seemed to study the silence. "Hmm. No one. I guess I am by myself then. Now f--- off."
The group regarded each other and her warily.
"We're still six to one," someone piped up. "Black Watch could use those weapons."
The Black Watch members now eyed her with greed, and three of them began to pick up bits of rock and rubble to throw.
As she had practiced every day for five years, Talith nocked an arrow and drew back her bowstring lightening-quick, taking aim at the one-eyed man with a large rock in his hand.
"Wanna try your aim against mine?"
"Girl, you're outnumbered. Quit playing and hand over the goods. We'll let you go then."
"I could be blind and still hit you from here. Notice, my eyes are intact, so I could shoot half of you before you got to me."
The one-eyed man raised his arm.
Talith shot.
The group scattered a moment too late, and the man yelped. There was no need though. The arrow was stuck into a crack in the ground, an inch from his foot.
Her target hooted. "You sure you aren't blind?"
"I missed on purpose, you idiot. Though from the way you scream, I could have gelded you." She grinned, nocked another arrow, and took aim at him. "Would you like me to try?"
Aim for the leader when he charges.
The man who held the sword suddenly rushed at her block, the others belatedly following. Talith dutifully swung her bow around to him and released. Moving targets were harder, but the scant distance helped that.
His agonized scream stopped them dead in their tracks.
His weapon clattered to the ground as he lost the ability to grip it, blood pouring from his hand. The arrow had gone straight through his hand, a good two inches of it jutting through the other side. He stumbled to his knees, choking on his screams. His fellows clambered over to him.
I lost that arrow.
Talith jumped down, was confronted by faces contorted with rage. "Bitch!" the woman screamed. But she was already running past, grabbing her first arrow and vaulting over the ruined landscape. By the time they came after her, she'd be long gone. Her parting gift would keep them busy ... and help them remember her.
She made it to her "safe-house" within a few minutes, a ruined building that nonetheless still had a foundation, and that was what she wanted. Talith slipped in and paused by the flat rock. She listened for sounds of pursuers, old or new, but there was nothing to be heard but the whistling wind and the distant thunder. A storm? Probably just another heat storm, but she could always hope for rain.
Assured of her safety, Talith pushed over the rock a little, revealing a narrow hole in the ground. Strapping her bow back onto her back, and checking to make sure her knife was secure, she ducked in.
The coolness of the underground cavern was a sweet respite from the stifling heat of the upper world. She allowed herself a few deep and grateful breaths before shifting the stone above her back over the entrance, plunging her into full darkness. That was fine though, as she knew this tunnel by heart after so many years. Groping her way to the far wall, she crouched and began the slow walk down.
As she neared the end, sounds of life reached her ears, and she emerged, blinking in the dim light, on her makeshift bed. Her "house" was only an overhang of concrete above the underground Other streets, but hey, home sweet home.
Talith uslung her bow and placed it gently on the pile of rags and blankets that made her mattress, her quiver besides it. Then she took out a handful of stones to barter with from her niche, pocketing them. She left on only her knife and water bottle before climbing down.
A small market had sprung up over the years, perfect for acquiring food, water, or information, whatever you wanted. Right now, food was her priority: she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning.
"Ah, the knifewife returns," the old seller remarked facetiously as Talith approached. Knifewife was what they called her, since she had no relations with anyone but her weapons. However, she liked this old man. "How was the surface?"
Talith thought about her run-in with the Black Watch, the arrow she had lost in the man's hand. "Same old. There's a storm coming." She plunked down a shiny blue-grey rock on his plank of wood. "What will this get me, Jarl?"
Jarl picked up the thumb-sized stone and peered at it. "By itself, nothing."
She had known that. Sighing, Talith handed over another rock, this one brown and streaked with red. As Others had no formal currency, they worked in trade, often using pretty stones like these to entice, or trinkets scavanged from upside.
Jarl ran a knarled finger over it and studied her. "All right. Here." From his store he pulled a fruit that looked like a small bunch of grapes, save that they were white and twisted. Jarl had perfected the growing of underground plants that had mutated over the years, thriving in the dark and damp.
Talith took the strange fruit and gave him a salute before striding off. They small white things were tangy with sourness but filling enough, and would help preserve her store of water that rested against her hip.
Please, send us rain.
