Chapter 3 (Rewrite)

There's a struggle at the tech den, and Jade is on her own.

“Find a way out of here,” Erk said.

“Okay.” I nodded, turning around to look for an emergency exit.

With my nerves shot, I jumped at a sudden grab for my wrist. Looking back over my shoulder I saw that it was the tall, black clad man.

“The job is still on, okay?” The reflective green eye covers in his mask glimmered, as he leaned his nod in. “The Rat’s Nest. Find it underneath the Underlow.”

I smiled and pulled my wrist free. “Just gotta get out of here, then we can find your artifact.”

“Hurry!” Erk yelled over the growing ruckus, ducking and pushing away a bar patron who took a swing at him. Pivoting his head in my direction, he caught sight of something on the far end of the bar. 

I turned to see what it was, and vibrating in a state of disrepair, was a kinetic dampener sprawled out across the bar. Pulling one of the graphene daggers from his hip, Erk threw it at the device. The dagger spiraled through the air, finding the mark tip first, and sinking its way into the exposed modulation coils. The device resonated, and we all ducked as it released an intense pulse of kinetic energy.

Glass shattered across the bar, and smoke rose from the dampener as it released more pulses, in shorter and shorter intervals. While the diversion continued to wreak damage, flinging patrons back with each blast, I began to slink in it’s direction, remaining low in front of the bar.

Making a whirring noise that grew in pitch, the device then failed with a pop, and one final expulsion of energy that sent the nearest people flying across the room. Getting closer to the device, I could make out the smell of burning plastic and alcohol. At the edge of the bar, I took a peek at Erk’s graphene dagger, still lodged in the coil, but the device having been destroyed, both dagger and coil had been launched onto the ground.

I turned my head up, to make out rising smoke, spreading across the ceiling. Scooping up the dagger and prying it from the coil, I made a run for the nearest wall, weaving in and out of rowdy patrons who were now either exchanging blows, or trying to make their own escapes.

Barging through the emergency exit, I looked back through the smoky haze to see Erk and the black clad man fighting their way to the four goons at the front. “Be safe, Erk,” I mumbled, before being pushed out of the way by persons scrambling out of the den.

Making a book for it, I started to head toward the nearest alley, attaching the graphene dagger to the mag belt at my side in the process. Jumping behind a dumpster, I kneeled down, heaving to catch my breath. Feeling momentarily safe, I swiped open my mobi-comm and started an inquiry search for the Rat’s Nest. Results were quickly displayed, but with a flicker, my mobi’s display fizzled into obscuring white noise, before seeming to die completely.

Peaking over the dumpster, my neck tightened with the tension of anxiety. Facing the barrel of a gun, I raised my hands beside my head, and stood up.

“Smart move girlie,” a male voice, with a crack spoke. I examined the stalker, and his weapon . He was dishevelled in a druggie sort of way, but at most just a few years older than me. Hell he might have even been the same age. “Before I turn you over,” the man started, licking his cracked lips, and squinting at me through monolids. “We’re going to have a little bit of fun together, yeah?”

“Okay.” I started to lower my arms, parting my lips seductively, and slanting my eyes.

“Hey, no sudden moves,” he snapped.

“Do you want me to fight back,” I said in a low tone, eying up his nine millimeter. “Or take it like a good little girl.” I moved my left hands to my zipped jacket, unseeming it slowly.

“Uhm,” he hesitated, rattling the weapon. “Don’t fight back. Just gimme what I want.”

“Yes,” I spoke singularly, continuing to unzip my jacket, I watched his eyes, hungry at the sight skin-tight plastifab blouse underneath. The zipper found its way to my midriff, opening my jacket completely. I continued moving my left hand down, while the other worked its way up to the seam of my blouse, grabbing the zipper between two fingers. “Is this what you want?”

The tweaked man responded with frantic head bobs, loosening his grip on the gun.

My right hand began unseeming, while my left moved down to the dagger stowed at my hip. Without thinking, I grabbed the hilt of the dagger slashing upward at the man’s hand.

His hand jerked with a spurt of blood, and the gun fired a modest ping.

I followed up the attack, butting his fresh injury with the hilt of the dagger. He dropped his weapon, and we both leapt toward it. I landed first, flopping over the gun onto my belly, but soon after felt his weight as he tackled me.

“Get the f**k off of me!” I shrieked, but he responded by grabbing either of my wrists, while I squirmed. I made futile attempts to slash at him with the dagger, still in hand, but the stronger man tightened his grip, until I dropped the dagger, and he kicked it away into the dust.

“There,” he said with a winded pant. “F*****g b***h. Fine, fight back then.” His hand cupped my butt, and I jerked my hips up toward him, knocking him off balance.

With the momentary loss of stability, I was able to wriggle one of my hands free. With a shaky fear, I reached underneath my belly for the nine millimetre. The tactile grip of the weapon found its way into my palm. While the tweaked out man tried to get another good grip on my free arm, I maneuvered the weapon underneath me so that the barrel was pointing out, and I fired three quick snaps.

The shots didn’t hit him, but he nevertheless flinched at the sound. Using the diversion, I rolled onto my back and brought my knee up to his groin. He gasped, winded, and I brought the gun up to his shoulder and fired.

He didn’t quite scream -- it was more like a gurgle. But, with the successful hit, he sprang up and thudded back first into the wall. His cracked lips quivered, saliva built up at the corners of his mouth, and he looked to his left at the trickle of blood running down his shirt.

“Get the f**k out of here!” I screamed, beyond furious. Beyond scared. The idiot just stood there leaning against the wall, irresponsive. I fired again, this time at the wall beside him. “Go!”

And that did it. With the final command, he ran at a sprint, almost falling head first as he shot down the alley.

“F**k.” I fell back against the wall, plopping my rear on the cracked ashenphalt, and tried at my mobi-comm once more. It was pointless though, the thing was fried. Likely the attacker had a short range EMP. “Great,” I mumbled, and looked back at the large crowd building outside of the tech den. “Not safe here,” I continued, standing up and squinting my eyes at the smoke billowing out of the building.

Pocketing the gun in one of the front pouches of my jacket, I then ran over to scoop up the graphene dagger, attaching it once more to my mag-belt. I broke into a full sprint in the same direction as my attacker. While my fear was still fresh, I couldn’t risk going back toward the tech den.

After running for a good fifteen minutes, I hid by the edge of a building where the alley met another street, and leaned against the wall to catch my breath. Peaking around the corner to survey the street, I took stock of the community -- while still old and in a state of disrepair, the street was in relatively good condition. Throwing my hood up over my head, I then walked out onto the street, making my way down while losing myself in the busy sidewalk crowds.

Having passed several blocks, I came to a cobblestone sidestreet, and looked up at the street sign. ‘Labour St,’ it read, and looking back once more to make sure I wasn’t being followed, I ducked into the sleepy residential road.

Labour street was full of cramped townhouses. They had been worker lodgings when the Midway plate was being constructed, hundreds of years ago. I inspected the houses as I walked down the sleepy street. Most of them were in a state of disrepair, though, a few had been refinished with refab. The haze of street lamps illuminated what the oppressive lights high above could not, and so, Labour street too was in a constant state of twilight.

Coming across one dilapidated townhouse with a dirt lawn that had been fenced in, I slowed to a stop, and rested my hand on the rusted gate. I eyed up the home, which had a faint glow coming from one of the windows.

“Been awhile,” I mumbled, and pushed the creaky gate aside.

Stepping onto a synthwood porch that also creaked, I looked around at the dust covered structure. There was a disused green synth leather couch, with cushions torn open, and a relatively clean wood chair. I rolled my eyes, and grabbed for the doorknob, pulling the door open with ease.

“Anyone home?” I called through the unlocked door. I waited for a response, but receiving none, I let myself in. “Always leaves the door unlocked,” I mumbled as I walked into the kitchen. Feeling starved, I walked over to the old fridge, and prayed to the stars that there would be something edible this time. I sighed and closed the empty fridge, looking around at the cluttered countertops, finding a molding loaf of bread.

Then moving to the living room, I flipped the light switch on, and the room flickered to life. Or, the closest thing it could be to life, anyway. I kneeled over the coffee table in the centre of the room, and thumbed through a stack of holozine tablets. All of them were Centros Captures; a series of nature photography zines where they went around Centros, rendering the most amazing natural sights and bringing them to a newstands across the planet on a monthly basis.

At the bottom of the stack was a zine with an earmark icon saved to the corner. Curious, I pulled the micro-thin tablet, and sat down on the old synth leather couch. My rear end sank into the blown out cushion, and I rolled my eyes once more. “How does he live like this?” I said with a sigh.

Inspecting the cover of the holozine, I noted the impressive mountainscape in the photo. I furrowed my lips and nodded, genuinely interested at the image of the massive peak. Opening the tablet to the earmarked page, a holographic mountain projected out of the device, and a small label blinked in the corner reading ‘Mount Ka’ek Valak’.

I gestured toward the holo-label, and a blurb appeared in its stead. Clearing my throat, I read over it aloud, “Mount Ka’ek Valak is the highest peak in the Unitan range. The south side of the mountain lies within the Chyundan territorial radius, while the peak and the northern face is within the Unitan national border. It is believed to be a place of spiritual significance to the indigenous people; the mountainous sae’s a’kavalli tribe. In the mountain kavalli tongue, the name means ‘meeting place of the superiors’. Valak is an often repeated word for superiors in different kaval dialects, which is believed to be referencing an ancient pantheon that has since been lost, though, the vernacular remains ubiquitous in kaval culture.” 

I closed the zine, and the projected image shrank back into the tablet. I should show this to Erk, I thought, tossing the holozine back on the coffee table. He might be interested in knowing more about his tribe.

Leaning back against the couch, my ears perked as if on cue, the sound of the front door opening responded to my semi-relaxed state. Nervous, and in anticipation, I slid my hand into my jacket pocket and wrapped it around the gun’s grip.

A tall wrinkled man, with an odd hue of orange skin, short dark brown hair, and pointed ears like Erk’s, appeared in the portal to the room. His eyes shined green, reflecting the soft light of the room in their irises. “I wasn’t expecting you,” he said in a raspy deep voice, and moved over to an upholstered chair beside where I sat. With a heave and a sigh, he fell back into the chair, and sat relaxed, as if the weight of the world were released from his shoulders with the motion.

With patience, I waited as he pulled a cig-stick from his shirt pocket, and ignited it. He took several drags, and I waived away a few loose wisps of smoke, crinkling my nose in discomfort. He took note of my discomfort, and half smirked, before leaning over to butt out his cig in an ashtray at the corner of the coffee.

“Those things will kill you,” I snarked.

He released a belch-like chuckle. “I’m two hundred and eighty nine, and no signs of slowing down yet.”

“You’re two hundred and seventy nine, grandpa,” I corrected, holding up a finger as if I were scolding a child.

“Whatever.” We haved, and leaned back into the chair. “Isn’t it late to be visiting? Don’t you have school in the morning?” He leered in my direction, focusing his inquisitive, jade green eyes on mine.

I returned his stare momentarily, before darting my eyes elsewhere. “Got a job. Need the cash.”

“Ah, yes,” he sighed. “That always seems to be the case, doesn’t it? I wish that son of mine would have left you with more money.”

“Well,” I chuckle-talked, returning my own intense green eyes to lock onto him. “He didn’t even leave me the graphene daggers,” I spoke with a genuine distaste. “They ended up with Erk.”

The old man looked down at my hip, and I recoiled bashful that he caught sight of my newly acquired dagger. “Seems like you ended up with one anyway.”

I motioned to conceal the dagger under the flap of my jacket, “I’m just holding it.” I looked over at the analogue clock hanging on the wall, and noted the time. Two thirty three already, I thought, and turned back to my grandfather. “We ran into some trouble and got separated. But, I wanted to ask you about something.”

“Well,” he droned, “It isn’t often that the young ones ask their elders for knowledge. What is it?”

“This job,” I started. “We need to find some place called the Rat’s Nest, beneath the Underlow. Do you know about it?”

“As a matter of fact,” he trailed off, nodding. “I do.” He looked back at the concealed dagger. “You know how to use that thing?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Right. Stand up girl,” he commanded, lurching to his feet. I looked at him, with a dumb expression, and he gestured. “Go on now. Stand.”

I shrugged, and did as he said.

“Now, pull out the dagger, and hold it in front of you. With intent.”

Once more, I did as he said, holding the dagger tight, and standing in a boxer’s stance.

He moved toward me shoulder first, reaching for my forearm and twisting it between his own upper arm and body. With another quick jerk, he handled my fist, surging pain through my palm, and was able to pry the dagger from my hand with ease.

“So, what happens if someone does that to you, Jade?” he brandished the weapon in front of him.

I smirked, and pulled the gun out of my pocket.

“Clever girl,” he snarked, before repeating the same move on the gun. Holding the nine millimeter before him, he emptied the sliding chamber, and inspected the small ball bearing inside. “A Carbex railgun. Useful for mid-range combat. If I were to draw this on you,” he held the gun up in both hands. “Like this, at close range.” He nodded, waiting for me to respond.

I moved in, mimicking the motions that he had just done, and was able to wedge the Carbex from his grip. I smiled, before pocketing it again, and following suit with his own endearing smile, he handed the graphene dagger back to me, hilt first.

He sat back down, gesturing to me to sit once more on the couch. “Sit sit.” I did, and he exhaled as if prepared to tell a story. “Now, the Rat’s Nest,” he began, staring at me with eyes deadpan. “That lies in the lowest part of the Quarry. You see, the Quarry used to be the whole city, until they got the idea of building upward into the cliffside. They built the foundation to Midway right here. The foundation is the very ground beneath the Underlow. But beneath that, was the original city, before it expanded outward into Quarry Town.” He paused, as waiting for an indication that I was paying attention.

“I’ve never heard of a city beneath the Underlow.”

“Well my girl, that’s because it was abandoned. Not right away though. Similar to the Underlow, it remained a hive for criminals, and a home for the poor alike, but as Midway’s construction progressed, people left the old city behind too.”

“Kind of like what they expected to happen here?”

“Yes, but well.” He gestured around him. “Some people think of this as home.”

“But most of the city thinks of it as a lawless ghetto.”

“That’s true,” he contemplated. “In any case, the Rat’s Nest was a place that was rumoured to house incredible technology. From Neon, no less.”

“Technology from your homeland?”

He smiled, “Yes, that’s right. It’s neo-human in origin, like me.”

“And me.” I smiled back.

The comment prompted from him a heartfelt laugh, which resonated in my chest. “Well, not quite like you. You’re only a quarter Neonite, and your father was a halfie.”

“Is,” I blurted. “Is a halfie.”

“Right,” he responded. “A slip of the tongue.”

“So, one more question, grandpa?”

“Go ahead.”

“How do I get under the Underlow?”

“Well,” he trailed off once more. “The easiest way, these days, would probably be to enter the access tunnels in one of the Midway columns. The city has to send maintenance crews down there you know. There are some very important civil engineering structures down there, such as sewage, and geothermal plants.”

“I think that ought to be enough,” I said, rustling my jacket as I stood up. “If Erk comes by…”

“Yes, I’ll tell him how to get there.”

“Bye grandpa,” I said with a court head nod.

He waved me off. “Just be safe with my genes, Jade.” He leaned over, and plucked one of his tablets off of the table. “Go on now.” He shooed me off, with a flapping hand sweeping gesture.

Author's Note

Looking for editing. Particularly interested in parts that are boring or clumsy.

Reviews

[Wathanya.5KY3]

Great chapter! I like the large texts. It's much easier to read.

On to my take, the action scene was well described, and I could see what was going on. I liked how badass and witty Jade was. Though the attacker's reaction to Jade's "call dad" makes me wonder about her dad's profession and/or fame/infamy.

Although I thought she was going to meet her dad at first, I also loved Jade and her grandfather's relationship. I liked grandpa's explanation of everything, but I'm 100% biased because I use a lot of dialogue to tell stories in my own writing. Haha I especially like how you called his cigarette his addiction stick. Noteworthily impressive showing!

Technical stuff:

1. I didn’t need to be mad at him right now.

- stylistic: it feels a little off seeing "right now" in the past tense, but maybe that's just me

2. Within a second’s passing, Erk jumped up onto the knee high table, and jumped again with a cartwheel, flinging his remaining dagger straight at the bar.

- knee high => knee-high
- stylistic: the second "jumped" wasn't necessary because it'd be a repetition of the first "jumped"

3. I looked through shoulders to see the knife had been lodged perfectly into a circuitry switch for the kinetic dampener that a pair had been tinkering with at the bar.

- "looked through" makes it sound like the shoulders were transparent. Maybe you meant, "looked over shoulders," or, "looked past shoulders"?
- "to see the knife had been..." should be "to see that the knife had been..." because "to see" was followed by a sentence rather than a phrasal noun

4. Erk’s shadow jump into the smoke, and more concussive rounds fired from Hadley’s companion.

- present tense
- "...rounds fired..." should be "...rounds were fired..."
- stylistic: "Hadley's companion" makes it sound like one of his goons fired the shots though (I think) you're talking about Hadley's gun

5. "It was firing off kinetic bursts, which were rapidly throwing people away in a growing circle," and, "Running into the smoke, I found it was disorienting."

- stylistic: you're usually good at showing, but these sentences are more telling than showing

6. I started at the feeling of someone touching me on the arm, and in moments a hand curled around my wrist.

- I'm not sure what the first 2-3 words are trying to convey

7. S**t. Recalculate my next move.

- this seems to be a monologue that wasn't put into italics

8. Turning back to the bar I ran over to grab the graphene dagger sticking proudly out of it’s resting place in the fried dampener, simultaneously pulling my own knife out in my right hand.

- comma after "turning back to the bar"
- it's => its

9. I yelled out and threw my much smaller knife in the direction of the door, not hearing it hit ground - only the sound of a continued struggle.

- I think you meant "...hit the ground..."

10. Good luck Erk…

- comma after "good luck"

11. He lifted his legs up and crossed them on a small table which evidently was only ever used as a footrest. The table croaked as his heavy boots slammed onto it’s magazine covered surface.

- I don't know why, but these two sentences sound like they're repeating themselves. Maybe look into it a little bit, it could just be me
- it's => its

12. I looked at the small stack under his feet, and made out a corner of one of the magazines showcasing the edge of a brown and lifeless mountain, offset by blue cloudless skies.

- if Jade was suppressing her anger (as shown in the next paragraph), there is no reason for her to care about magazine covers

13. Really it was quite a magnificent engineering project, but of course by the time it was done people didn’t want to leave this place. It took decades, but this place became the Underlow”

- comma after "...of course"
- the end of the paragraph is missing a period

14. I looked at him, implicating him with my stare.

- I'm not sure what Jade was implicating

15. He leaned forward with renewed energy, almost angry.

- stylistic: "renewed energy" (noun) compared with "angry" (adjective). I can see a couple of ways one could improvise the second clause

16. It was painful, be he managed to wrestle the dagger out of my hand.

- I'm not sure about the purpose of the "be" before "he managed to..." but maybe that's just me

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Other observations:

This chapter has been the easiest for me to read so far, but, as said above, I am 100% biased as a dialogue writer.

I think you're slowly finding your own writing voice, and I'm honored to see the process so closely and intimately. Keep writing!

One thing I noticed that was different from other chapters was that, with more dialogue, you get to practice your dialogue punctuation and slowly get used to its rules.

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“Clever girl.” Betraying his positive reinforcement he stepped to the side and repeated the same move on the gun. “How about now?” He pointed the gun at me.

I repeated his example, clumsily, but with some effort I twisted his hand open.

Moving to sit back down he rubbed his old hand where I had pinched it. “Good, but use all your force next time. One hundred percent or nothing.” He took a comforting drag once more. “And if you find yourself in that situation, put a 22 in his belly before you try anything fancy.”

I smiled, but once more became aware of the situation. “I can’t stay any longer. I need to go.” I got up to leave, but turned around in the space between rooms. “If Erk comes…”

“Of course I’ll tell him everything…” he grunted.
--------------- All of this is perfectly punctuated (though the "he grunted" part is a little tricky).
However...

“One more thing before you go.” he paused to make sure I was listening. “There are ways into the lower plate from the Midtown support columns.”

- it should've been a comma instead of a period after "...before you go"

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That's it for today. And keep writing! You're doing a great job and improving rapidly.