Technomancer 8: The Cell

Everything was hot, so hot. Leron tried to move his arm, but it wouldn’t move. Instead, pain exploded from its location and he screamed. He opened his eyes, struggling to focus. It was so hot. Hazy images passed by him, concealed in the poorly lit room filled with the smell of piss and body odor. So thirsty…..He began to feel dizzy and everything went black.

It all played through in Leron’s mind. The Walmart parking lot. The discussions, and then gunfire from all directions. He recalled the bullet hitting his arm, and Arion diving over him and knocking him to the ground, but nothing more. It was like Monterrey all over again. So much violence. So many dead. He began to weep, longing to redo everything. He could have prevented the meeting in the parking lot, but he didn’t and now the men of their group were all dead or taken and who knew what would happen to Masa and the other women now they were gone. Thoughts of Masa brought even more pain. He had promised her he would come back. And now he wouldn’t.

More pain followed. It throbbed in a never-ending cycle. He was aware of water being thrust to his lips, and he drank, enjoying the coolness. After a time, the heat filling his body broke, leaving only the pain. The world around him cleared and he saw Arion’s face above him. He tried to escape but, his rival pushed him back down.

“Don’t move,” Arion grumbled, “I’ve saved your arm for now, but there's no telling what will happen once infection seeps into it. You’re lucky they gave us a knife to off ourselves. I was able to dig out the bullet.” Tapping the side of Leron’s face, he forced a smile, “Hear that? If we can get out of here, you’ll get to return home to the woman you stole.”

Leron longed to sit up and punch the bastard. How dare he talk about her after what he did. Masa was her own woman and not anyone’s property, though admittedly part of him also viewed her as his. He loved her more than anything and didn’t want anyone else to have her. The most he could manage in his weakness was to tense his muscles and dream of the terrible things he would do to Arion. “I….stole….?” he worked through his parched lips and snickered.

“Masa was mine,” Arion hissed, kicking his leg. A fresh round of pain hit Leron and he groaned, threatening to pass out. “I was beginning to win her over. She was ready to be with me.” Despite the sickening words coming from his mouth, the pain in his eyes spoke volumes. In some weird twisted way, he did have legitimate feelings.

“You….love….her. Why…treat….her…..” Leron paused for the pain shooting through his arm, “Why treat her so poorly?”

“I was angry,” Arion bit back before hesitating, “And I wanted to show her the reality….”

“You…were….cruel….” Leron said, “I…found….her…in….tears….”

Arion went silent for a long time, and Leron began drifting off again. He fought to stay awake, distracting himself by gazing around the room. They were in some sort of concrete cell, an old hurricane lantern rested on a stool outside the bars. His stomach growled. How long had he been unconscious?

"Why save?” Leron struggled. The pain was beginning to become a familiar sensation and he was discovering he could push through it.

“Why did I save you?” Arion asked and laughed. “Because it's my job. I hate your guts; you self-righteous prick, but I still have to earn my keep. You tried to have me removed as raid leader. Raph overheard your conversation with the council and informed me.”

Leron laughed weakly, beginning to fall unconscious. He had. Before he had met Masa, he would never have done anything like that. He couldn’t fight like Arion so he had to use the weapons he had at his disposal to take his rival out. It didn’t matter. Neither of them would have Masa now. “You were becoming a liability and your values are different from ours,” he lied.

“Different values? My ass. You’re an American. You don’t belong here.”

In a daze, Leron listened as Arion listed a long list of grievances caused to his people by Americans. Not that any of it mattered. America no longer existed. Mexico no longer existed. Just people trying to survive. The irony that they needed to cross the border as illegals wasn’t lost on him, but it wasn’t the Americans keeping them out, but one Mexican cartel who had taken the bridge. He continued to drift in and out of sleep, half listening, and became distinctly aware of something Arion hadn’t realized. The man beside him in the cell was very much alone.

He thought back to the little he knew of Arion. The man had joined them in Nuevo Laredo, meeting with them beside the Rio Grande. He vowed his service and assistance, pointing out how he could help them structure their raid groups better. The man had drinking buddies and colleagues but did not have friends, choosing instead to seek the solitude of the tiny corner he filled with the books he collected when he wasn’t putting on a show.

Even back then Arion only ever had eyes for Masa. He watched her, took her on in his raid group, and painstakingly helped train her, but rarely one-on-one. Instead, he left that to the older men of the group. Leron had stood back and watched from a distance, letting Arion make his moves while he waited. It had filled him with jealousy to watch as Masa pulled away from him. He had never hated anyone as much as he hated Arion. Not even Mattias.

“I hate you too,” he seethed and told Arion why. He started out in a calm voice speaking of how he had watched him with Masa. He spoke of his frustration in learning the language, not being understood, and feeling like an outsider. As his rage grew, everything he had held back he threw in the man’s face with only the pain holding him back from screaming at him. After a time, he fell silent as Arion had. There was nothing left, but the reality of their situation. They would have to work together to survive and he needed to let his anger go or neither would return to Masa. He clenched his jaw and through gritted teeth did what his parents would expect of him, “Thank you for saving me.”

Arion grunted and sighed. “Here,” he said, shoving a crust of stale bread into Leron’s mouth. “You have to be hungry.”

The dried bread melted in Leron’s mouth. It was so tempting to swallow the entire thing whole. He was so hungry. Its presence was welcome as it went down his throat, renewing his energy. “Do you know where the others are?” asked Leron.

“Spread out across the cells beside us,” Arion muttered, “I yelled through the bars to the man with Manuel in the cell across the hall to let him know you were fine. He was also shot. Alan snuck by to let us know Filipe’s group and the women were safe. He left to let them know where we are and who survived.”

Leron felt relief and relaxed knowing that Masa was safe. Perhaps they could follow her plan and seek out a different crossing with the remaining supplies and find that prepper group she said was on the border. He relaxed back and began to let the pain take him. If he died, he would be okay with it.

Arion kicked him again. “You had better not die on me,” he said. “I need Masa to see how I can rescue you. Perhaps she will change her mind.” He started muttering again, listing off possibilities for escape before frowning. “Even if I can get us out of here, there is no possible way for us to escape. There are not enough able-bodied men to carry the wounded.”

“Do you know where we are?”

“That’s the worst of it. The cartel that attacked was the one holding the international bridge between Mexico and the USA. We are in one of the cells they once used to hold drug dealers.”

Leron laughed, “Only one step closer to home.”

“Shut up, you idiot.”