Chapter 12: Guilt

Freshly rested and showered, I sat in the desk chair in the corner of my apartment. The sleep had helped, but I was still trying to get a grasp on why killing those coggers had affected me so much. I killed people to survive, for money. Killing wasn't anything new to me. 

"Is it the bounty?" I asked myself aloud, "Is it that there's no reward or gain from killing them? Or is it what a bounty stands for?"

As I mulled this over, I refilled the magazine for my handgun. As I put each bullet in, I could feel an ache in my heart, a small pang of guilt for each life I'd taken. As much as I had wanted to make a name for myself bounty hunting, it still didn't change the fact that I had killed over and over again to further my own goals. On the other hand, the people I had killed were often guilty of heinous crimes and were living their own lives while the people of those they'd wronged grieved. The delicate balance of justice and guilt hung over my head, weighing me down on both sides. 

To get my head out of the dark place it was moving to, I decided it was time to go meet Lyra. I stood from the chair and pushed it in under my computer desk, then opened the sliding metal door to my apartment and left it. While I rode the elevator down to the parking lot where my bike was sitting, I pulled the old-world cell phone out of my pocket and sent a message to the only contact.

"I took care of the coggers, did you make it to a safe house? Let me know if they're still on your tail, and I'll come help you out. Stay safe, brother."

Once I completed the message, I slid the phone back into my pocket and exited the elevator. The parking garage smelled like burnt oil and cigarettes as I moved to the spot where my bike was parked. I tapped my right temple as I walked to set up the route to Lyra's place, as I didn't know it from memory yet. A couple of people were roaming around the parking garage, smoking and drinking while sitting against the wall. I nodded to some of them, as they were either residents of the same building or the local homeless people. 

When I got to my bike, I got on and drove out of the garage, headed west to Lyra's. My bike took me to the skybridge, where the wind in my hair and the sun on my face eased some of the guilt. Sunlight, at least in the east, west, and south zones, was hard to come by. The buildings reach the clouds and the skybridge arcs over the city through the middle, blocking out the sun's rays. Depression creeps up on a lot of residents of the inner zones of the city, the lack of sunlight mixed with the lack of money creates a lack of enjoyment for life. I was lucky to have a vehicle capable of taking me to the sunny spots. 

I pulled off the skybridge and drove through The Wastes, passing The Pit as I went. Seeing that place caused a phantom pain in my metallic arm, fleeting, but painful. The ache in my arm wasn't all bad, though, as it strengthened my resolve, pushing some of the earlier thoughts out of my mind and sharpening the mental image of my goal.

I need to get the bastards that caused this, I thought to myself, Rodriguez and Blackthorn and anyone else who stands in my way. I'll bring them down even if it kills me.

I knew that I was going against my better judgment, not to mention all of the words of warning from Cipher and Lyra. I knew that I was taking a near-impossible task. But I didn't care. The image of Trent Freeman flashed through my mind, his bloody hands reaching out to me. He and his family deserved vengeance, and quite frankly so did I. I had gotten off lucky. Lyra was there to save my life, but if she wasn't there I would have ended up just like him. I owed it to all of the victims of this vicious company to do something. I wasn't going to stay silent and let them use people as lab rats. 

When I got to the place Lyra called home, I got off my bike and locked it, then started towards the door. I knocked thrice, and a few moments later the door opened and a familiar set of blue eyes looked up at me. I smiled, knowing that I was in good company.

"You made it," she said, "good to see you in one piece."

She led me inside and back to the room I had woken up in a few days prior. I sat down on the cot and she took the swivel chair, a familiar positioning for both of us.

"So, what did you figure out?" She asked, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Likely more than I should have," I began, "So firstly, your Blackthorn hunch was spot on. I called up my informant, Cipher, to do some digging on them. It was their tech in Rodriguez's body that caused him to be able to attack me like that. I don't know exactly what the tech is though, as I didn't have time to figure it out."

Her gaze darkened as I spoke, painful anger staining her gaze.

"Figures, those damn ivories don't give a shit about us as long as they make their credits," she spat, more angry than I'd ever seen her before. 

"It gets worse. Did you hear anything on the news about Trent Freeman, the guy that killed his whole family?" I asked.

"No… I didn't. Why do you ask?" she replied, confirming my suspicions.

"Figures, leave it to Blackthorn to cover their asses well. I was the one who did that job, and I found him dead, suicide by gunshot, with a note implicating Blackthorn. It matches up with Cipher's info, and we concluded that they've been abducting people and putting tech in them without their consent, then running experiments and releasing them into the city to test the tech."

Her eyes widened as I spoke, the scar on her face twitching as concern flooded her gaze.

"What… how can they get away with something like that?" she asked, knowing the answer but not wanting to admit it.

"And to make things worse, they sent mercs after Cipher," I added, "Luckily I was there and I got them before they got him, but they're after him. Shit's looking grim."

Lyra leaned back in her chair, her red hair hanging down off the back of her head. She let out a long sigh and spoke upwards. 

"Sounds like you've just started a war with Blackthorn," she said, pausing for a second before adding her next line. 

"And I want in."

"No," I said flatly. "Absolutely not, you're not risking anything else for my sake."

"Not your choice. And what makes you think it's entirely for your sake? I have my own grudges against these godforsaken companies," she began, an unbridled passion in her voice. "Take a look at where I live. Do you think I want to scavenge for a living? No, I fucking hate it here, but because of those damned Ivories, I'm stuck here. I can't afford to live in the city, and I can't afford to leave. Nobody out here can, we've been forgotten by those government puppets and the ones who pull their strings. People have been disappearing out here in The Wastes, but nobody would know that because the government, the cops, and the Ivories don't care. Hell, even most hunters only come out here to get paid. These people are responsible for the kidnapping and experimentation of countless unwilling people, only to turn around and let them loose to kill others without consequences. I'm so damn tired of living in this dystopian hell and sitting idly by while they get away with this shit. So yeah, I want to get back at those bastards and no, I'm not asking."

When she finished, I sat in silence for a moment, contemplating what she had said. She was right, it wasn't my choice. If she wanted to help she could help. In a fight like this, I could use all of the help that I could get anyway. I looked up into her determined eyes and saw something I couldn't quite describe, a feeling that I'd never personally felt before. She'd lived in Santa Luz her whole life, so this feeling emanating from her had to be related to that. Finally, an opportunity to change her home for the better, something that hadn't been seen her whole life. 

"Alright," I said, smiling at her, "then where do we begin?"

"I have a couple of ideas," she replied, smiling back.