Pure Hick

The road to Bandsland was nothing but a narrow ditch, dug by a stream that didn't exists anymore. Beside it, pastel slime plants waved their sticky tendrils, shaking their orange weightless spores into the air, hoping to fertilize and be fertilized. The spores that were unlucky enough to land in the center of the path were burst by the weight of careless feet, becoming a crimson trail that extended as far east as the eye could see. They walked through a mist of them, causing their clothes to be covered with bright, sticky, spores. The cloth wrapped around River's face did little to save him. It would get covered, and he'd have to wipe the gross things off with his bare hands, squishing them, and releasing a sickly sweet scent like metal and nectar.

The concentration of them reminded River of the leaves back home, and he found himself looking up to a cerulean sky, wondering how everyone back home was doing. They were waiting for him and it was only a mater of time before Oatmeal found out the Gatling was dead. Were they even still there?

"Hey!" Lizard hissed through her own makeshift mask, "Stop spacing out! It makes you look like an easy target!"

Was that why he kept getting attacked when he was alone? No, it was the bounty. Possibly a combination of the two.

River apologized for the third or fourth time and reminded himself that they only had a little ways until they reached Bandsland, the closest territory to the east. Lizard figured if River wasn't able to find information from the direction he came from, there was no point in back tracking. Perhaps he should've mentioned that he'd primarily traveled through civilian zones, and he wondered if traveling outside of them meant having to be on such high alert at all points in time

..........................

Lizard was a strange one. River often noticed her wandering away and talking to puddles of water, or more so, arguing with them in a hushed tone. As per her request, he and she took turns sleeping, and often, as he lay with his eyes closed waiting for his mind to stop working against him, he could hear her, talking to herself; when it was time to relieve her, she fell into a dead sleep without hesitation, and woke up bright eyed as if she hadn't been sleep at all.

Besides her strange behavior, there was another thing about her that River found odd.

"Have you considered changing your look?" he asked.

Lizard's face twisted into a subdued scowl.

"No," she stated, "Why?"

"Well, you remember how people reacted when they saw you."

"Just get to the point," said Lizard, after rolling her citrine eyes.

"Well, I think you need to change your identity for this to work."

"You know just as well as I do that that's impossible," she said irritably.

"Yeah, I know, but you can tone things down so people won't know you by sight. You styled yourself exactly the way you were when you died. People who haven't even met you are going to recognize you, and I don't know where you've been but rogue hunting is a thing again."

"I think I'll be fine," she scoffed.

And she had the nerve to say he looked like a target.

After several yards, Lizard stopped suddenly, holding out her arm to stop him too.

"You notice anything different?"

River didn't. Just the same road, with the same red streak, and the same orange dots speckling the air. The same waving plants lined it, the same colorful bushes and shrubs behind them. It even had the same stout trees.

Lizard grabbed the back of his neck rather gruffly and pulled his face forwards.

"Look," she said, her voice brimming with what he thought to be irritation.

She picked up a rock and threw it at a slime plant, causing one of the tendrils ahead of them to twist. River wiped Lizard's rough hand off of his neck, and turned to make sure he saw what he thought he did, and yes: a slime plant behind them also had a twisted tendril, but this one had a rock beneath it.

"It's some kind of reflection based cloaking device," said River.

"Close. It's a teleportation device that's been cloaked by a reflection based cloaking device," she said calmly, "If Band has any sense, this thing wraps around the town."

She opened her mirror and started swiping.

"You wouldn't happen to be a lightning user would you?" she asked, without taking her eyes off the screen.

"No."

"Too bad. "

After several seconds she selected a tazer that materialized in her left hand.

"Most barriers react to electricity," she said.

As she touched the barrier, the reflection became warped into something that was more liquid than solid, parting like a break in a waterfall at the point of contact. River went in first, twisting sideways to avoid touching the teleporter, for fear of becoming separated from an elbow or a lump of flesh.

He emerged in a town of masks, brimmed hats and umbrellas. His entrance warranted a strange look or two, but he was easily considered a non-threat, and those inquisitive eyes shifted back towards their previous points of interest. They were a sea of orange coated hats and umbrellas, flowing like rivers between tall paraboloidal buildings, over steep steps and arching sidewalks. Their well oiled skin glistened, orange spores sliding down shining browns and golds. River suddenly felt foolish, looking down at his reddened hands, wondering how strange he looked with a crimson stained face and body.

A familiar hand clutched his shoulder.

"You're spacing out again. Look, I don't want to be here for long, just head to somewhere kinda empty and dial this number. Do you know how to work this?" Lizard asked, shaking what looked like a flexible sheet of wood.

"I know," River lied, "Just stay a good distance away from me. I don't want to be associated with you."

"Ok. Just know, you'll have better luck on floor one and below."

With that, Lizard lost herself in the crowd, leaving River to wander the city alone, slightly overwhelmed.

Well that was stupid, he found himself thinking as he twisted and turned the floppy thing, looking for a button or symbol to touch, to turn it on or something.

"You better stop twisting that before you crack it." murmured a hooded passerby, orange spores clinging to their vibrant clothes.

"Wait!" yelled River, jogging to catch up with the stranger, a tall, slender boy, older than River in appearance but too young in the face and form to be a man. The boy swiveled on bare feet, allowing his oversized pants to swish in the crimson flooded pavement, and tossed River an unpleasant look.

"Excuse me," River started once he'd bridged the gap between them. " Do you know how to work this?"

The unpleasant look turned into a confused one, then turned amused.

"You must be from one of those rural territories."

"Something like that."

The boy chuckled, then held his hands out as if he was balancing a board in each of them.

"Hold it like this.

River attempted several times. As he did, the stranger coached him until frustration took a hold of him.

"No, like this. No! Like- Just give it here!"

River complied, and as the stranger touched it, the words 'Welcome Back Lizard' danced above the wood like flame. His mouth fell open and his brown eyes became as wide and round as a dragonflies.

Shit! River thought. He could not be associated with her.

"I stole it," River blurted.

The boy shook himself back into his senses.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. Are you ok?"

"Yea! Of course. So, who are you looking for?"

River's heart jumped.

"How'd you know I was looking for someone?"

The boy laughed a crooked laugh.

"So, are you a pure hick or are you from one of those 'starting over' types?"

Rivers shoulders squared, his jawline tensed. "What do you mean by that?"

"Relax," said the guy "I just wanna know if you live in one of those anti-modernization territories. You know, the ones who think modern cities keep getting blown up because their technology angers god or some crap like that. I mean, I have to admit that it's usually the high tech ones that get destroyed all of a sudden, but that can easily be explained by jealous city-states. You know how competitive merchants can get."

River thought back to Gatling's coarse laughter, and squeezed his eyes shut.

"No, not really" said River after blinking back unwanted memories.

"Ok, well. This tool is called Search Party. It helps you find people by asking anybody around for information. You press that plus sign to the right to add the name of who you're looking for and if anybody knows or finds out anything, they'll answer you and give you a price for their information. Does that make sense?"

"I guess so," River mumbled, as he typed T-A-N-K.

"Slide up to send the signal. Alright! You should be getting some responses soon. You'll know when you get an alert saying 'so-and-so wants to join your party, and their price will be down here, in the corner."

"Ok. Thanks! What does the magnifying glass do?" asked River, pointing to an icon floating above the screen.

"It's so people who have information to sell can find people who wan to buy it."

"Ok, thank-"

" You're welcome. Good luck."

The stranger spun on his heel, and walked briskly in the opposite direction, as if he was eager to be away from him. River guessed he didn't want to give him a chance to ask more questions, shrugged his shoulders, and followed the downward path toward the scent of blue nectar, then up a slippery staircase that wrapped around the outside of one of many bronze buildings, covered in blooming moss and orange and red freckles, following aerial signs that guided him to the doorway of a deserted eatery.

A chrome avatar greeted him, and displayed a menu wordlessly. It had a ding or two, and several warped sections from heat damage. From what he'd learned in his travels, River deduced that the cook was probably the only person here, watching through the eyes of the avatar.

"You boiling pixy blossoms back there?" asked River, referencing that familiar scent.

"Always," said the cook, "It keeps the strays wandering in."

River forced himself to chuckle along with the cook behind the avatar, then ordered before she had a chance to try to be funny again.

"Nectered duck strips, creamed lime, and a croak please."

"Sure thing."

He took a seat in the far corner of the building and pulled out the search party, balancing it in his hands the way he'd seen the guy do earlier. After a few tries, the flaming words 'Welcome Back Lizard' popped out of the tool. He hurredly dropped the item in his lap and glanced around to see if he'd been seen, hands trembling, even though no one was there but the avatar.

Relax he thought, taking in a few deep breathes. No one is even here but the cook.

He poked around the system, pressing random icons until he found out how to check for responses. None yet. What had he expected? He set the search party to beep loudly if anything changed, rolled it up and packed it into his bags to check later.

Is it really this easy? he wondered looking out of the second story window. From this height he could see the tops of people's heads as they walked by, bobbing and weaving to avoid hitting each other, or flowing with the popular motion.

"Sir."

River nearly jumped out of his skin. He'd spaced out again.

The cook, a petite woman with gray hair and skin like clay brought his food on a tray and left it there when she left. The duck strips were tender, fatty and sweet, sticking to his teeth as he chewed. The creamed lime was light and fluffy like a cloud, but became dense as it touched the tongue, with a sour flavor that was balanced by caramel and vanilla. He downed the salty croak in one gulp, but no one made it colder, saltier, or grittier than Nun.

His stomach sank for a moment and he found himself wondering about Nun and the other villagers.

BEEEEEEEEEK

River all but dove into his bag to pull out the search party and check the notification.

Three 'Anonymous's wanted to join his party. He added them all with Lizard's money, a total of one hundred and ten points, and the info was disclosed instantly.

-Tank has been seen a lot around the Cobalt Desert but she recently left the area, moving farther north. She's consistently been staying in-between territories so it's hard to give an exact location but a good place to start is between Beute 9 and Vevilla.-

-Tank is dead. Thanks for the free 25, idiot.-

-If I were you, I'd look around the wreckage of New Langit. She spent some years there, had a boyfriend or something that died there from what I hear.-

None of that meant anything to him. If he waited long enough maybe he could get some real information. In the meantime, he was flagging the second 'Anonymous' and writing a nasty message.

A bell rang, announcing the entrance of a sketchy looking man with half an afro and purposely tattered clothes. The bald half of his head was decorated with a tattoo of a woman holding a ball of light as she sat, her bare feet crossed near his temples: the symbol of the Wingless Angels, a large and popular group of rogue hunters.

Without a second thought, River dropped beneath the table, taking his plate with him, and watched. Did he know about Lizard? He remembered the stranger outside and how her name popped up in front of them, he must've noticed.

"A B 2!" shouted the man with a voice that reminded River of a cat howling in pain.

"Shh!" hushed the tiny cook, all but running to the counter to speak him.

"If you fucked with my money I'll kill you!"

"Wow, what a display of noble heroism," said the cook sarcastically, completely unfazed by the threat.

"I never said I was in for all that bullshit. It's just easier to hunt when you got support."

"Didn't ask, don't care and you shouldn't have mentioned my name, Slap. Just do what you need to do before the lunch crowd shows up and don't break my shit."

The man turned towards the seats and River ducked again, sinking lower, but there was only so low a person could sink in a booth. Heavy boots tapped the linoleum floor, warning River of Slaps location, ever approaching. River's chest began to feel sore, he could hear his own pulse pounding in his ears.

Ten seconds felt like ten minutes.

"I don't see anybody here but me and you. Swear to god if you fucked with my money, A B-"

"How 'bout you look for him instead of bothering me."

"I am! This place ain' but so big, I woulda seen 'em by now!"

The cook sighed as if deeply exasperated: "Fuh-king idiot."

He had to run somehow but the exit was closer to the hunter. He'd have to break the window and jump. That was a long way down, he could get seriously hurt. What if there was a group of them outside, waiting for him? Rogue hunters usually worked in teams.

He was close, only the next seat over, and the next moment, he watched the weathered boots pass his table.

His table went flying like a plastic bag in the breeze, exposing River to the hunter's wicked grin as he leaned over the back of the neighboring booth.

"HEY! I told you not to fuck up my shit!" yelled the cook

River punched the window, smashing it, hoping to jump through, but to no avail. He was swept up in one crisp motioned and dragged to the floor by his locs, where the hunter tied his hands to his feet.

"You sure this is the one who knows Lizard?"

"No, that kid said that. I just told you where to find the guy he described, and there he is... And you're paying for my fucking table!"

"Relax, it's not broken. I'll put it back how it was soon as I put the kid to sleep."

River felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck, and with that his world became suddenly dark.