A gun with one bullet

“A pistol with one bullet, something that cuts, and a wild card item that can fit in to a back pack— that’s it“.

 Jorge brusquely responded to his riveted sixteen year-old sisters questions about the inaugural “California island Blood Race”. Standing a slight 5’3, the teen-aged mother of two was taken by the ideal of competing to gain visas for her and her two boys to the mainland, but gave no indication as to the true nature of her inquiries. Instead she allowed her brother to keep his macho and dismissive attitude, knowing that he’d never enter such a race himself, being that he was a coward that only pretended to have balls.    

Rosa finished making their rabbit, apple and onion breakfast, while he rambled on about this and that; all the while her mind was fixated towards gaining as much information as she could about the ticket to freedom she overheard her brother talking to another local about. The mainland was where any semblance of opportunity was and she was not only hell bent on seeing her sons get a chance to go to school but had fantasized about maybe one day learning how to read and write herself. She had heard that Texas was once again hiring people to complete the “The Greatest Wall” and figured she could work nights as a “barrier-snitch” while taking classes with her sons in the day. It wasn’t quite a plan, just an ideal she had that she was pretty close to being willing to risk her life for.

The year is 2044; it has been almost eleven years since the big one caused two-thirds of California to break off from the mainland and drift in to the Pacific Ocean; turning the one-time westernmost state in to a giant, unregulated wasteland where hope would go the way of democracy and only those willing to do the unthinkable would survive. After the fourth world war the inhabitants of California would be hard-pressed to maintain their history of global significance in a rapidly changing world. Once the Garlock quake struck and sent everything west of the Armagosa desert adrift, necessities like electricity and clean drinking water would become rare commodities as the newly formed island would increase in distance from the mainland from thirty minutes to a five hour plane ride in just over a quarter decade.

Rosa was only five years old when the massive, twenty-four minute quake hit and killed everyone in her family except her brother, who himself was only a thirteen-year old before becoming a surrogate father. The two had survived in the broken-down home that their parents had been raising them in, and were able to conceal themselves well enough to stay alive, though lawlessness did leave openings for the younger to be raped and impregnated twice by members of the self-proclaimed “island militia”. The second time that Rosa was forced to have sex with a man too old for her brother to confront according to him, would be the first time that she would employ one of the few lessons she recalled from her fathers drunken lectures.

 “Si un hijo de puta intenta tocarte el culo sin permiso, apuñala en sus bolas!“

He’d implore her more than once in slurred, barely comprehensible Spanish.

She had always kept a switchblade within reach ever since her first episode, and like her mother was quite extreme when the time came for punishment— stabbing and chopping wildly immediately after her rapist completed is final ejaculation and turned away to zip up his pants. Her brother who had hidden away in a closet, found her and her first victim covered in more blood than he would have liked, and swore to her that he was just about to kill the man himself— though she greatly doubted that he could have done so empty-handed as he was. Up until that point Rosa had always been intimidated by her brother, since then she pitied him, knowing that he would one day get raped himself and that she would have to defend his scary culo.

She was not fond of leaving her brother behind, but as things were going it was starting to appear that he would turn on her and the boys if it meant keeping himself safe. His joining a squad in the militia rather than resisting as all the good men did was the last straw that her faith in him could bare, so once he did she decided to start putting herself and her boys first as she knew that they would never leave her exposed the way he did. There’d be some hard decisions coming, but her resolve was such that once she made up her mind, it was only a matter of time before action would ensue, possibly even bloodshed depending on the circumstance.

More information on the race was needed and the only way to get it would be for her to venture in to the current hub of activity called “The Market Place” which developed around a few still-standing buildings in the middle of the city. Jorge handled the majority of acquisitions for the foursome, but Rosa knew her way around and had developed her own means of staying safe; allowing unpleasant aroma’s and the most unkempt visages she could manage to serve as a shield that distracted the dogs from her otherwise so-so looks. Her mother would often say that an unclean woman would never find a man, and as her experience with men had been thus far, not finding a man was exactly what she needed.   

 The bike-ride to marketplace was two hours long, at least for her brother. She could make the ride in two-thirds of that time but never shopped as she couldn’t carry much more than one bag of goods without being slowed to a victims pace. There were still a few cars with gasoline in them around, but neither of them dared risk such a flashy invitation, so they collected and maintained a number of bicycles around their lot, often hidden amongst piles of what looked like useless junk. Her favorite was the old and raggedy looking mountain bike that she had customized herself to look like something no self-respecting male would be interested in. The frame was somewhat rusted and Rosa cleverly accentuated the look with a rust colored solution her brother showed her how to make and a few old rusty accessories, pink and purple flowers here and there showing through the mock decay.

When she told Jorge that she wanted to go for a ride later that day, his protest was more about his fear than it was her safety and she knew it. Because of the bartering nature of the times, he had little to argue with as she had for the past two weeks acquiesced to several chores that he had initially agreed to perform, leaving her to be the man he was supposed to be. Watching the boys was never anything he had a problem with, her feeling being that it gave him a chance to feel masculine around the miniature males. So a deal was struck and she’d take off for a time so long as Alicia; the black girl down the road and the only friend she had went on the excursion with her, which she undoubtedly would.  

As usual, Alicia showed up at their place with a gallon of boiled and cooled water around noon and Rosa asked her if she’d be willing to take a ride with her while the sun was still up. Alicia agreed and as always insisted she go home and ask her dad for permission; inviting Rosa to ride down with her to verify the request. Alicia’s father kept their small community of seventeen hydrated, cleansing water in an industrial sized cooking pot that he kept among others for various and practical reasons, exchanging the fluid for services and or goods from the makeshift flock. He seemed nice enough, but there was something about the way he always pulled his daughter aside, to where they couldn’t be seen that intrigued Rosa. She didn’t think he was a “Raper” as the girls often called the boys these days, but who knows; “he is a man”, she thought to herself.  

The two started out riding side by side at a slow, casual pace, allowing them to talk and laugh a little. Rosa filled Alicia in on why she wanted to go to where the men were upon Alicia’s request, and they both agreed that any chance to get of the rock was worth taking some chances. They rode along what had been a highway some years ago and veered in to the vicinity that used to be called Liverside or something like that. Theywere going to grab some oranges from the still productive grove that everyone in the area frequented; Alicia volunteering to carry a few for Rosa in her knapsack, leaving Rosa free to do whatever she was intending,

While in the grove the two took their time chatting, picking and eating a citrus crammed lunch while discussing the potential of an escape from their present yet separate hells. Alicia was a few years older than Rosa with no children, just her father; a good man according to her descriptions. Which was why she insisted that Rosa getting off the island with the boys was the most important thing that the pair could work towards; the need for her own liberation no where near as dire. It was a pleasant moment on a pretty day and the two would giggle for over thirty minutes as they toyed with fantasies about lovers and new homes.

They ate their fill from the outdoor buffet and decided they had better get going as the sun would only share its shine for so long, and darkness was not the preferred time to be outdside for any female in these desperate days and nights. Rosa informed her friend of the movement in her bowels and asked her to give her a few moments while she fertilized some bushes about thirty yards away; taking with her a handful of the orange peels for tissue. Alicia agreed to wait and mentioned that she’d be over by the bikes whenever Rosa was done. About four minutes after Rosa found her spot and dropped her shorts an unpleasant sound came from the direction that the bikes were left in.

There were two for sure, but Rosa had the feeling that there may have been more as men these days tended to run in packs. At first the discussion sounded pleasant— perhaps these were some of the good guys that did exist in small numbers. But when she heard Alicia’s bemoaned “No!” she cringed at both the sound and her current state of unpreparedness. She quickly and quietly wiped what she could, not knowing what actions were going on or what she could do about them, but she had an unpleasant notion about it. A tussle was ensuing by the sounds of it and her friend was likely at the bottom of it. She pulled up her shorts and took her blade out of her pocket unaware of her next coarse of action, but as her instinct took over she was inclined to sprint over to the scene when a loud pop, followed by a thud, some rustling, some grunting, then another pop froze Rosa with shock.

Dismayed, she came from out of the bushes screaming like a mad woman, charging the lone standing male that had apparently just attacked her road dog. She plunged her knife in to his back having caught him off guard and stood panicked as he fell to his knees, reaching for the blade that was now protruding from his body. A third male figure was fleeing the scene, leaving Rosa standing alone over Alicia’s vessel which now had one too many holes in it alongside one shot and one stabbed male bodies. She fell to the ground over Alicia and tried to comfort her friend but didn’t have time. Alicia was trying to utter something to her but it was too late, her friend passed away without saying another intelligible thing.

She cried like she never had, surrounded by three dead bodies and orange peels. How could this have happened when they were just so happy only moments ago? “Why do men do this shit all the time” was all she could think as she wept. It took her almost an hour to pull herself together and recognize that she had to decide whether or not to continue to market or retreat to the sadness she’d have to engage riding home. She deliberated her situation and decided that Alicia would have wanted her to follow through with her intentions, as difficult as that would be. Sniffling and leaking she took what she now realized Alicia’s father was always pulling her aside to covertly pass to her and stuffed it into the sack that would now be hers if Alicia’s father didn’t want it. She drew her own blade out of the rapers back and carried herself over to the bikes that the two girls were riding just a couple of hours before.

As she peddled away from the massacre and headed towards the hub, she could see in the distance in front of her the lone raper that had escaped penalty for his actions; or so he thought she decided. As he walked along the road towards market, she would see him nervously looking back over his right shoulder, which was why she stayed just left of him, speedily creeping up within a narrow blind spot and gaining on her next kill, he being oblivious to what was coming. A single shot to the back and she didn’t even slow down to deliver or admire it. Her day had delivered her one last tear-riddled chuckle before it’s close which made her think of herself as the “Maiden of death” as Jorge called her in joking.

She made it to town and was relieved to see other women still about, decreasing the tension that all women felt these days when alone around ungoverned men. She approached a group that consisted of three well-dressed (for the time) ladies and two male whatever’s. They each seemed nervous when she skidded her bike along their path so she spoke quickly to let known she was not a bandit. “Do any of you know where I can find out about the California blood race?” She hadn’t realized that she was speckled with blood, so was a bit put off by the clinching and flinching that the two younger girls in the group displayed. “We’re just coming from registration ourselves”, said the apparent mind of the group as she pointed to an opening in a collapsed building that people were coming and going out of.

As Rosa approached the building a feeling of relief swelled in her heart and she got the sense of this being a real thing, there was a real chance that she cold leave this god-forsaken life and begin a real life with her boys— whom she hadn’t considered in a number of hours. Not being able to read the flyers that everyone seemed to be getting information from, she asked one petite and scruffy-looking white girl what she thought about her chances. The girl told her that she herself wasn’t a strong rider, but could shoot well, so her one bullet gun might give her a shot. Rosa was taken by one word: “Rider”.

Recalling her brother’s brief description about the race she inquired further with various people, and in the end come away with all the knowledge she needed. She had two days to prepare, had just acquired a gun, had her own something to cut with and only needed to find out what sort of “Wildcard” item would best suit her condition. Her brother had been quite a handyman around the house and she felt that he was always working magic with the grey tape that he called duck. That was it; she’d needed a spool of duck tape and with that she knew she had a chance to win. Registration required that she entered a name but she did not know how to spell Rosa, as spelling was not something that she had inherited.

Again she would ask around to gather the information she needed, when an elderly black woman approached her and asked why she was covered in blood. Having almost forgotten her gory past few hours Rosa told the old lady what she had been through and what exactly she was trying to do. Gloria; as the woman called herself, took her by the hand and took her right up to the registration desk. The two men sitting there seemed tired and uninterested but were quickly awakened by the now boisterous old woman that seemed intent on getting Rosa in the race. She filled out a one-page form without asking Rosa for any information save one question: “what will you call yourself?”

At this Rosa was stumped, briefly. She had told the lady her name but in short time realized that she needed something that sounded more like “the leopard” as she overheard another women lamenting to her conversation mate. She needed a code name, something that would let her opponents know that she meant business. Her choice was simple: “I am the maiden of death”, she said as if she had just realized it for herself.

“Yes you are” Gloria agreed, taking in the blood-splattered Latina’s image. Before departing Gloria offered one last line of advice: Don’t look back Maiden of death, those boys need you to make it! Now get the hell out of here, the wolves will be out soon, GO!