Tales from New Kakari: Remy (pt. 3)

c/w: language, gun violence, light gore, blood

Over the next few days, Remy tries his hardest to erase those images from his mind. The dark red hole in the middle of Crackton’s forehead, hid body going limp as blood starts pooling on the ground. But no matter how hard Remy tries to forget, those thoughts keep returning to him, like a recurring nightmare that recurs during the day.

“Remy, help me with this problem,” Marlowe whispers from across the classroom aisle. The two of them are in their morning class with Mr. Larson again. Today, the class is a little more talkative, as Remy hears the quiet chatter of conversations all around the room. Lucy is also present, sound asleep in her desk in front of Marlowe.

“Huh? Oh, sure.”

He leans over, examining her HoloScreen to see what kind of problem she has but notices her looking right at him. Noticing her gaze, he feels a little self-conscious. His eyes dart away from her gaze, landing on the various cracks in the floor and machinery on the walls. When his eyes return to Marlowe, she’s still looking at him.

“Mar, pay attention. You were the one who asked for help.”

“Are you okay?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

“What?”

Marlowe puts a hand on his forehead, “You look . . . are you sick?”

Remy brushes her hand away, his heart racing at the unexpected contact.

“I’m fine. I just—I keep thinking about that day.”

She tenses up, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“It’s not your fault, Remy. If anything, it’s Leo’s for not telling us about the dangers.”

Remy leans back into his seat. “But is it really just his fault? When I asked everyone if we should still go, we all agreed to continue, fully aware of the risks. So we’d all have a hand in the blame, then.”

Marlowe replies, “Okay, but Jackson was the one who fired the gun.”

“But even that claim is complicated too,” Remy points out. “Leo gave me the gun originally, and then I gave it to Jackson. And we only got into that stituation in the first place because you three split up to look for me. So maybe it’s more my fault.”

Marlowe rubs her temple, “This is so confusing. Whose fault is it then?”

Lucy, who just woke up, suggests, “Maybe we shouldn’t worry about placing the blame and leave the past in the past. Thinking about that day makes me want to vomit. I’m trying to forget it as hard as I can.”

Remy nods. “Yes. Just forget about it. That’s the best choice here.”

Though she still seems uneasy, Marlowe reluctantly agrees.

When lunchtime comes around, Marlowe and Lucy head out, but Marlowe stops a little before leaving, glancing back at Remy. He notices this pause, but does nothing. He wants to get up so bad, to follow them, but something holds him back.

And so, Remy sits alone at lunch, just like he has been for the past few days since the arcade trip. He picks at the pasty soup that must be made of at least fifty ingredients he can’t pronounce. Not a single part of it looks appetizing. With no one to talk to, the loudness of the cafeteria is so much . . . louder. He considers looking for Jackson and Leo but decides against it.

Somehow, the thought of talking to Jackson at the moment makes his stomach churn, though he isn’t sure why. Is he scared that Jackson is now someone who is capable of killing another human being? No, there’s tons of people, maybe even within Garnet High School, who have that capability.

Is it because of their argument? The two of them have argued before, and some were so bad they led to full-blown fistfights, yet none of them made Remy feel as terrible as he does now. There’s another reason, he’s sure of it. But before he can figure that reason out, he feels a hand slap onto his neck from behind.

He turns to see a relatively large boy he’s never seen before with two grinning boys standing behind him. He immediately understands what’s going on—they look like textbook bullies. He immediately wonders what it is they want him to do and narrows it down to one most-likely choice: his food.

“What’s up?” Remy asks.

“You should give me your soup, buddy. Actually, since we’re friends, you might as well give me the whole lunch,” the fat boy says.

So I was right, Remy thinks, proud of his analysis.

He doesn’t want any trouble and the food looks unappetizing anyway, so Remy reaches for his tray to give it to the boy, but before he can even touch the tray, a punch comes from nowhere, sending the fat boy reeling backwards.

It’s Jackson, his face fierce and contorted with rage. “Hey, fatso. You messing with my friend, here?”

The boy shakes his head nervously and says, “N-no, I was just a-asking him for his f-food.”

“Yeah, well get lost, because he’s not going to give it.”

As the bullies scramble away, Remy decides not to mention that he actually was going to hand it over.

“Thanks, dude,” Remy says.

Jackson glances at Remy. He sits in silence as Jackson stands next to him. Remy doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t particularly want to. For the first time, it feels a little awkward between them. So he just starts eating.

“You never start our conversations,” Jackson finally says.

Remy replies, covering his mouth full of food, “What do you mean?”

“You’re a thinker. You keep everything in your head, but never speak it aloud. You’re always—can you stop eating for a second?”

Remy blinks, stopping in place, with a biscuit halfway into his mouth. He sets it down and swallows.

Jackson leans his head abck, looking up through the high windows in the cafeteria.

“Just like right now, you pretend to be carefree, but I know you’re probably thinking about how awkward it is right now. You never say what’s on your mind. You’re always thinking, watching, and reacting.”

“Where are you going with this?”

Jackson sighs. “I already messed up with Marlowe. As embarrassing as it is, I’ll admit that. But if you . . .”

He suddenly grabs Remy by the collar, his face red from frustration

“If you’re holding yourself back for my sake, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Wait, no, I—”

Jackson interrupts him, “Don’t try to deny it. I’ve seen the way you look at her and the way she looks at you. She never looked at me like that once.”

“Jackson . . .”

He lifts Remy up to a standing position and pushes him toward the center of the cafeteria.

“Go get her, dude.”

Remy nods as he backs away. Jackson waves him off with a smile, but Remy can sense that he’s trying his hardest to force it. He starts walking around the cafeteria, keeping his eyes peeled as she’s probably sitting with Lucy. He looks everywhere for those telltale locks of golden hair, but she’s nowhere to be seen. In fact, he finds Lucy, sitting alone.

“Lucy, where’s Marlowe?”

Lucy looks up at him, and with one glance, she’s grinning.

“So you finally stopped lying to yourself.”

“Shut up. Where is she?”

Lucy crosses her arms. “Hmph! Where’s my thank you for helping you figure out your true feelings?”

“You weren’t even the biggest help.”

“That was a terrible ‘thank you,’ but whatever. She went to the school’s greenhouse. She goes there every day to water the flowers.”

Remy thanks her and starts toward the garden. At some point, his brisk walk turns into a jog, which turns into a sprint. He has nothing on his mind except Marlowe. No, Mar, he thinks. Even as he’s breathlessly running through the halls, he can’t help but smile at the fact that he’s allowed to call her by a nickname.

As he jumps over wires and boxes, he wonders what he’ll say when he sees her. He wants to take her to another arcade, a safer one that isn’t abandoned—one in central New Kakari, where they won’t have to worry about syndicates. He’ll save up as many credits as he can so they can go on that date. A date? he thinks, feeling embarrassed at the term. He’s never really had an interest in going on a date with a girl before, yet somehow it’s all he can think about right now.

He stops outside a door with a sign next to it that says: Lufkin Greenhouse.

He twists the handle. It’s unlocked. As he enters, the humid smell of life fills his nostrils. He spots all sorts of vivid greens and blues and reds surrounding him, lining both sides of a criss-crossing cobblestone path.

At the edges, The greenhouse itself is lined with huge windows that stretch from one wall to the roof to the other. Unlike the windows in the classroom, Remy realizes these can’t be barred with steel plates, otherwise the plants wouldn’t be able to get any sunlight. He prefers it that way. The steel plates don’t really have any sort of purpose other than blocking bullets.

As he looks up, the suns rays hits his eyes and he has to block it with his arm. It casts a yellowish tint on the entire room. He wishes the entire school carried this warm air, rather than the “decontaminated” air.

“Remy?”

As his eyes adjust, his gaze falls on Marlowe standing just five feet in front of him, holding a metal pail of water. She’s surrounded by windows from the left, right, and above, which bathes her figure under the warm glow of the sunlight. She’s shining. Remy thinks that this is truly Marlowe’s element. She belongs in a place filled with hope and life, not a place of despair, like the rest of New Kakari.

She looks surprised for a moment, but then smiles. “Remy, what are you doing here?”

Seeing her standing among a field of flowers, bringing life to what shouldn’t exist in such a bleak world makes him feel so hopeful. He wants to be right there next to her, watching as she brightens the world with that glow that only she has. He wants to help her achieve all her goals and finish all her projects. For the first time, that dreamless boy has a vision for the future. It’s an unfamiliar feeling.

Remy walks over to her, and without hesitation, grabs her free hand with his. Then, he opens his mouth to speak, but he trips over his words. He’s so excited that he can barely speak.

“Are you okay?” she asks, and he nods, closing his eyes. He can’t help but feel so lucky that she would care about someone like him—a boy so careless and boring. It makes him want to repay her tenfold. He takes a deep breath, calming down his heart, beating as fast as one of those syndicate assault rifles.

He slowly opens his eyes, almost scared that she might disappear in front of his eyes, that he was just imagining her, but she’s still standing in front of him, waiting with a smile on her face.

He starts, “I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time, but—”

It all seems to happen in slow motion. First, the sound of glass shattering. Then, Marlowe’s body jerking toward the right, as if some invisible force is punching her torso. Then, a cut opening up on her face, a line of blood tracing from left to right. Her body flailing to the right again. And again. It’s not until Remy feels the same force piercing his neck that he realizes it’s not some magical, invisible force. In fact, it’s the one thing in New Kakari that he is all too familiar with.

Gunfire.

Both Marlowe and Remy collapse into the foliage, her hand slipping out of his grasp as the rattling sound of gunfire and breaking glass fills the greenhouse. He tries to scream and shout, but the effort only makes him choke up blood. His vision starts to turn red as he feels blood running down his face. His entire body burns, from his legs to his chest, but his own pain pales in comparison to his despair when he sees Marlowe.

The entire left side of her body is covered in gashes and bullet wounds. And her metal pail rests next to her head. Somehow, in the chaos, she was able to lift the water pail to protect her head, but even so, she’s barely holding on. Her eyes flutter open and shut. As his vision starts to blur, their eyes meet one last time. In that moment, he feels a spark of hope. Maybe they’ll survive this situation. Technology is advanced now—guns don’t always kill. He tries to call out to her, to say her name, to tell her it will be okay, but the more he tries, the more blood starts spurting out of his mouth and the hole in his throat.

Then, he hears voices.

“Got her,” he faintly hears a gruff, male voice overhead. “The intel was right. The blonde girl that killed Crackton was at Garnet High. Can’t believe such a pretty girl shot one of our guys.”

“That’s what they get for messing with the Laggard Syndicate. They’ll learn not to mess with guns again.”

“I don’t think they’ll have much time to learn anything, really.”

Laughter follows. Remy feels his eyes growing heavier, making it harder to keep them open.

“Hold on. The boy’s wounds aren’t as bad. Should I shoot him again?”

“It’s fine. We need to get out of here anyway. We’re a merciful syndicate, remember?”

More laughter. The sound of footsteps disappearing followed by the sound of medical sirens. With his last bit of strength, Remy pulls himself to Marlowe, embracing her as if his arms wrapped around her still faintly warm skin can still protect her from any more bullets. The last thing Remy clearly sees is their blood, pooling all around them and seeping into the soil.

. . .

Even though Garnet High School completely closed, Remy decides to walk by it. He told himself he wouldn’t even go near that place, yet he somehow finds himself staring at its dull, grey, outer walls, covered in graffiti, posters, and neon signage. As he hears raindrops hitting the ground, he holds out his left hand.

He lets the rain ping against the cold steel of his new left arm, a sound completely different from the soft tapping on his right. He considers running to find cover, but he hasn’t felt the rain like this in a long time, so he just keeps walking as if nothing is out of the ordinary. He spots a few passerby running past, covering their heads with bags and jackets. It all looks so silly to Remy. It’s just water, he thinks, it won’t kill anyone.

He lifts his hand to an eyepatch covering his left eye. He still remembers vividly: two days ago, when he was finally released from the MedCenter to pay a visit to Linda Bennett, Marlowe’s mom. He wanted to apologize for being unable to attend Marlowe’s funeral due to his injuries, but before he could get a word in, Ms. Bennett swung at him. Her nails caught him directly in his left eye.

He still feels an aching pain where his eye used to be.

Even though he doesn’t live at his old home anymore due to his parents fleeing to escape his medical bills, he finds himself reflexively taking the path home from Garnet High School. He remembers that day, just three weeks ago, when he walked home with Lucy, asking her about Marlowe’s favorite things. It feels like a different world now, after everything that happened. He hasn’t seen Leo since the whole ordeal, but Jackson and Lucy paid him a visit at the MedCenter.

He then stops, remembering something. He turns to the left, toward a familiar wall. There’s a single poster on it, the corners tearing off and the ink fading away. It reads:

REMEMBER WHEN THESE STREETS WERE OURS?
WE DO.
The Kakari Restoration Front.
Reclaiming our future, one block at a time.

Beneath it, he reads the details of the organization, the link leading to the netpage. It looks just as fake as he remembers. He almost sees Lucy standing next to him, rolling her eyes at the poster. The thought makes him smile. The old him would never fall for such a scam.

Then, he sees someone else: Marlowe, standing between them, her eyes locked onto the bolded font like it’s her lifeline. Her golden hair still shining in the rain. Her bright and hopeful eyes that died right before him. Just imagining Marlowe makes his eyes water uncontrollably, mixing with the rain. But Remy wipes it all off his face. The world won’t wait for him to cry.

He walks up to the poster, tears it off the wall, and rolls it up.

As per usual, Remy has homework.