Simlog #26, recorded by Babsie, Way Back
She is sitting on the edge of the bed, putting her pants on, stuffs her shirt in and wipes away her tears with the back of her hand. Carefully evading the needles on floor she packs her gear into her bag, still her fingers are trembling.
There is just the usual noise of a low income housing neighborhood. Squatters talking outside on the street, she is looking down and the walls are all covered with gang tags. A piece put higher on the wall showing broken hands and a hammer. Barbed wire all over it and ‘Freedom’ in the background hills of skulls. ‘We are still here’. “Gee”, she says with anything but enthusiasm. “Where the fuck am I?” She checks the rooms, but it’s all gone if there was anything to begin with. She is hungry and has a feeling of physical weakness. It might be the wearing off adrenaline. She is checking her gear and finds a last ration bar, which she starts chewing.
Noises outside. “The pigs are gone, let’s check if they left something”, a young male voice says. She panics, no way out. She runs to a window pushes it up, climbs out on the ledge. Two stories down, pulls back the window, steps out of sight.
A cold gush of rain in her face. The ledge is slippery. Down into the alley it’s more meters than you might like to fall. It could be worse, but she curses silently. “They had a girl with them. Check if we can have some fun. She must be somewhere.” Other voices. Male. “Fuck, fuck, fuck”, she whispers.
She steps carefully to get away from the window. Half a dozen meters to the right, on the opposite wall there’s a fire escape, going down to the alley. But at least two meters to jump from the ledge. She looks left, right. No other escape. It’s just a matter of time. She hurries.
She reaches the point to jump. The window behind pulls open and the razorhead of a ganger pops out. “I got her! She’s outside on the ledge!” She closes her eyes, her bag hinders her taking any spice to the jump, she just does it. Not daring to look down. The next moment she bangs into the rusty grates of the fire escape, but she didn’t have any luck, she misses and starts to fall down. Her hands hurt and rip on the rusty metal. A short scream. For a moment she clings with her fingers on the last edge of the grate. Below her the unfriendly concrete bottom of the alley.
Her hands lose grip, she tries hard, but she’s not strong enough. She starts swinging, let’s go in the moment she is swinging towards the ladder. Tumbling, pain on her ribs. She is lying on the grated floor of the escape, looking up, catching breath. Painful she is getting on her feet, a glance to the other side. The ganger tries to get on the ledge. Gets back in. “Fuck!”, he yells. “Too slippery. We get her in the alley!” His head pops back into the room. Babsie checks. “I don’t make it in time”, while she pulls herself back onto her feet. “The roof.” She runs up the stairs on top, she is panting. A glance back into the alley shows the first of the gangers slide around the corner. “She’s up on the roof! One stay here to cut her off!” “She’s a fey! That’ll be fun!” Laughter down below. “Did we ever do a fey?”
She starts to sprint across the roof, ignoring the stairs, dodging around the air-ducts and antennas. Some people live up here, she jumps over a fireplace and curves around some tents. The edge of the roof. Four meters alley. She runs back, taking a few meters go and jumps. A moment up in the air. The endless gap below her. Certain death. She concentrates on the landing. She’s coming short. “Shit, that’s it.” Her last words.
But she lands on the edge. Barely, tumbles back for a second. Looking around. The gangers didn’t reach the top yet, so she sprints forward to the other side of the roof. But there’s a street down below. Far too far for jumping. She turns on her heels, running back to the entry from the staircase. The ganger on the rooftop of the other building. Laughter: “She’s making a run! Run! Run!” More laughter. Yelling: “Catch her on the staircase, we follow her over the roof! She’s fun!” The gangers hesitate to dare the jump.
But she’s already running down the staircase, trying to make it. She has made it down half the way. Noises of running boots coming from down below. A head pops up between the flights. “She’s up there!” A bang from above. That must be the entry from the roof. No way back. She turns into one of the corridors. “This must be the one with the fire escape”, she pants. But this time, her luck runs out. Just a window. “The other side.” The running boots are nearer. She panics. She won’t make it!, turns to the next door. Bell is broken. No name. Hammers on it. With a low voice. “Please. Let me in! Please! I… They will get me and I don’t know what they do to me. But it… please!” There is no noise behind the door. But she there was a quick shadow in the peep hole. “Please”, she starts to cry. “Please help me.” Now only whispering.
Boots from above. “Did you find her?” “She’s not upstairs.” “We didn’t find her on the floor below. She must be on this floor.” “Please… please.” Suddenly and faster than she can react, the door swings open and she is pulled inside.
She’s pressed against the wall by a strong hand. He’s an orc. She puts a gun into her mouth. One with a silencer on it, presses her to the wall. Ignores her, watching the corridor through the peep hole. In his right hand he’s holding a hell of a gun. Ares Predator. With the silencer in her mouth, she doesn’t move, just her legs get soft and wabbly. She starts to sink down. But the silencer makes clear that she must not move.
Like in a fucking flick.