Kalli
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Jet blinked at him for a moment, then laughed outright, not even trying to hide it. “I guess I gotta be careful about how I say things. No, ‘shooting hoops’ is a basketball term. It means you throw the basketball through a hoop; no guns involved. And keep away is something else you do when playing basketball…the game is called basketball, and so is the ball. Maybe that’s confusing, too… But anyway, keep away just means that you try to keep the ball away from anyone who’s not on your team. So, basketball is keep away and shooting hoops, all in one game. Aaaaaand I’ve probably confused you even more.”
Jet grabbed the can of beans and shoveled more into his mouth, still chuckling. “Sometime I’ll teach you how to play. There’s more to life than ‘maneuvers’ and ‘training’ and ‘being a weapon’. You can have fun now.”
As he said that, a thought occurred to him, and the boy swallowed thickly, nearly choking on his dinner. Looking at the creature before him, he wondered aloud, “Can you have fun? I mean…I don’t know if you can understand that, or emotions… Do you feel emotions?”
The thought wiped any trace of a smile from his lips, which were sticky with bean juice anyway. He licked it off, frowning. What if 48 couldn’t feel? Or have fun? Jet didn’t know why that should be so damned important, but it kind of was, for reasons he couldn’t put into words.
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Jet had to laugh about the way 48 was talking about a basketball, of all things. However, he tried to not laugh too loudly out of politeness. It was kind of…sweet?…in a way.
“recreational purposes…though I guess you could use it as a weapon if you were hard up for anything else. Here…”
Placing his half-eaten can of beans on the ‘table’, Jet went over and took the ball from 48’s fingered tail, bouncing it a bit between his hands. He didn’t have to look at what he was doing, but kept his eyes on the creature. “You can play with it in different ways. There’s the simple way, where I toss it and you catch, then do the same for me.”
Saying this, he made a quick movement of his hand and lightly pushed it into the air between them. Nothing fast- there wasn’t room- just a demonstration.
“There’s also keep-away and shooting hoops and stuff, but it’s too small in here for that. Maybe tomorrow night we can find an empty space and just toss it around for awhile.”
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Jet watched with a bemused smile as 48 studied a basketball he’d found a few weeks ago and decided to keep. It was old but still usable, and there was a court not too far away Jet sometimes visited.
“Never seen a ball before, I guess.” He couldn’t help being reminded of a dog or a cat, given the way 48’s golden eyes followed the ball with interest. Gradually, the bounces decreased without assistance, but 48 seemed to still be fascinated.
Jet left him to it for a moment, grabbing a can of beans and popping the top, then spooning the contents almost greedily into his mouth. His stomach had long ago ceased its growling, which meant he was past the point of hunger and starting to go into starvation mode. That wasn’t good- he’d been there before, and would rather not again.
“Can you tell what the ball’s made of, just by looking at it?” he asked out of curiosity, mouth still half full of beans.
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The second landing that night was less awkward, as Jet knew what to expect. His legs didn’t get shocked as they had done, but he still knew work was needed on his form or he’d have constant shin splints. He had to admit, though, that for such a powerful creature, 48 was rather careful of him. For that, the boy was grateful.
He was also deeply grateful for the fact that the building was 12 floors, and taller than most in the area. Hopefully that way they’d avoid anyone noticing his new friend.
Friend?
Jet paused for a moment in dusting off his shabby clothes. The term may have been tenuous, but it had sprung up automatically. Ally was a closer term, but whatever. He’d go with it. Giving a motion of his hand, he directed 48’s attention to the old metal door which led into his ‘apartment’. Pulling out a key from a chain around his neck, he unlocked the padlock, the put in the number code on the other lock, both of which held the door shut. Taking the chains off, he pushed the door open, and beckoned 48 in silently, still cautious in case someone should be watching from one of the taller buildings a few blocks away.
The door was shut, bolted, and chained from the inside. It was clear that Jet did this often, because he didn’t even bother turning on any lights, and only a dim orange glow came in through a crack in the old blinds. Once he was finished securing the location, Jet turned and moved to the middle of the room. Reaching up, he a cord hanging down from a lightbulb, revealing in its full, shabby glory, the only place he could call ‘home’.
To anyone else, it might have seemed depressingly bleak. The front room was small, but there was space enough for 48 to move around if he folded his wings and didn’t stand up on his hind legs. The room itself was dark and somewhat grimy, with cracked walls and ‘furniture’ that could hardly deserve the term. Against one wall was a lumpy old mattress with threadbare blankets and a dirty pillow, next to an old, half-broken shelf with some books and supplies, a radio and a small TV. Against another wall was another shelf with a small amount of packaged and canned food. In front of that stood a low table made from cinderblocks and a warped plank of pressboard. On that was a basket with some greasy utensils and a few odd plates and bowls. A tiny old refrigerator stood in one corner near the ‘table’, humming away rather loudly.
“Welcome to my place.” Jet said, finally removing his jacket and tossing it on the mattress. “I know it’s not much, but you’re welcome to it. Just don’t try any of the other rooms if you don’t want the roof collapsing on you. Only this one and the bathroom are still standing.”
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(Ok! Hopefully I’ll find one that doesn’t suck ^^’)
Jet tried not to let panic overtake him, even as he felt that horrible swirling motion of his gut upon takeoff. On the one hand, maybe it was worse because he hadn’t eaten in more than a day, but on the other hand food in his stomach probably wouldn’t have helped. Going faster wasn’t doing much for his stomach, either. Honestly, Jet would have been very impressed if he wasn’t so terrified. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open so he knew where they were going, but part of that was because the wind was making them water so much.
With the help of the jets on 48’s back, they reached the city in a matter of minutes. The boy was glad to slow down, even if they weren’t landing yet; so far, flying was not enjoyable at all. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he looked down over the buildings, scanning the streets and pathways with the knowledge of one who had been on plenty of rooftops. After a moment, he pointed down and to the left, toward a particularly dark and broken patch of city.
“There….the building between the Pawn It Now and the Laundry-Land.” In spite of the battle that had so recently crashed through their city, the denizens of Valley Center seemed to be able to carry on with their lives. Some of the businesses were still open, even though others had been bombed out or broken into. The shopkeepers tended to pack major heat, but then who could blame them? At least they didn’t have the larger armies to worry about, as those had moved Southward after dropping their bombs. Most had missed the city, going for a base ten miles out.
“Go ahead and land on the roof- that’s where I live anyway- the ‘penthouse’.” Jet used the word ironically- yes, it was the only apartment on the roof, but it had also been built illegally, and was falling apart. The only reason he lived there was because no one else wanted it.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and he laughed. “You know? Up ’til now I hated where I was living, because it’s 12 flights up on the top of a building. Now I guess a rooftop apartment is the best thing I could have with you around.”
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Jet knew what was coming, and could at least steel himself for it. With a small, nervous swallow, he pointed Southward. “That way. I’ll show you as we go…it’s kinda hard to explain if you don’t know the street names or anything.” Making sue his hood was tied tightly, and everything else was secured, he prepared for the unnerving means of travel like a man prepares to march into battle. Maybe if 48 stuck around he’d get used to it…
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Jet frowned, then nodded at this. “Yeah, probably a good idea. I live halfway across town- probably wouldn’t have gotten there before the sun came back up by the looks of it. Besides…” his mouth opened in a wide yawn, “I’m beat. You may not need to sleep, but I do.”
Even the prospect of flying again he could face, so long as he got back to his crappy mattress. Passing out sounded good right about now. “I’ll think about a good name for you when my head’s not mush.”
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“I don’t know yet.” Jet replied, looking back at the creature. Its strange profile was set against the full moon, reminding the boy of a panel from a comic book, or something similar. “It’s gotta be right, though. 48…that’s your old life. That’s the old you. You’re out now, and free. You need a new name.”
Another pause followed this, in which the boy frowned in thought, trying to think of anything ‘cool’ enough. “I can throw some ideas out, I guess, and you choose which one you like. Hmm…. Goliath, Samson, Batman…heh….uh…Hercules, Zeus, Achilles, Ace… Boomer…I dunno, that one’s kinda stupid. Just because you tend to make things explode…”
(If there’s anything you want to name him, let me know, and Jet will suggest it.)
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In spite of 48’s previous behavior, Jet was honestly surprised by this statement. The hand covering his face fell to his side, and he stared for a moment, having the strangest urge to grin like a maniac. Why, though? Why did he suddenly feel so light-hearted at the prospect of a creature so dangerous staying near him? Why did that not even matter so much? Jet must have been very lonely indeed to wish for such a companion.
“You want to stay with me for now, huh?” Jet tried to play it cool. No need to get too worked up; this probably wasn’t a permanent arrangement. No one ever stayed long in Jet’s experience. Still, he had to smile at 48. “I’m glad.” Very glad.
Then, because he didn’t want to belabor the moment, in case 48 changed his mind, Jet stretched a bit and looked out toward the city, and the small areas of forest and suburbs around it. Right now there was a lull in the fighting, so things were pretty quiet. From here, the city almost seemed beautiful, with its lights twinkling in the night sky.
“So, what do you want to see now? Oh…and we should come up with a name for you. Something crazy scientists didn’t come up with.” Not that he had anything specific in mind, apart from the kind of stupid stuff you’d get in a comic book. Hercules, Goliath, that kind of dreck. 48 had to go, though, it was too….mechanical, too impersonal.
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Jet watched 48 drink, though it looked strange to him. The boy was covering both mouth and nose with his sleeve to block out the bad smell, so his own expression was hard to read. 48 may not have been able to read faces anyway, but if he had been, he would have seen many different emotions play out on the boy’s face. Confusion, hope, fear, longing, all seemed to make Jet’s brows pucker.
He said nothing for a long while, then slowly got to his feet, biting his lip behind his sleeve. “Listen…48…you don’t have to stay with me. I mean, I appreciate it, and…I…I like having you around, but… You shouldn’t feel obligated. If you don’t wanna keep dragging me all over, or if I’m slowing you down, I’ll understand if you just leave me here and go your own way. I can get back to the city on foot.” Secretly, Jet couldn’t help wondering why it was so hard to say this, and why his throat suddenly felt tight. It wasn’t just the stench of the murky water. The image of those wings spreading, and that strangely-shaped body disappearing into the night sky made his chest hurt.
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Jet couldn’t help feeling shaky and staying low against the concrete for a few moments as his muscles finally unlocked. If he had to do that ever again… Well, as he fully expected 48 to just leave when he was done, the boy was already thinking of the quickest and safest route back to the city. He only had one bullet left in his gun, so he’d have to be careful.
Thinking about 48 leaving made him feel a bit empty, so he decided to distract himself. The wind up here was cold, so he pulled his hood over his black hair again, tying it tightly, and searched through his pockets and on his belt to make sure he hadn’t lost anything. Swiss Army knife? Check. Gun and holster? Check. Hunting knife? Still strapped to his leg under his pants. Check.
Jet went through his meager belongings, a bit bummed about losing what little he’d found in the bombed lab, but he hadn’t had the chance to tie any of it down anyway. Only a piece of sharp metal remained in the front pouch pocket of his jacket. He’d picked it up partly because it would make a good weapon for spearing fish, when it was the season, or just for whatever he needed. Plus, it had this cool bluish sheen which he kind of liked. Oh well, he wasn’t going down there again.
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Jet bit back a squawk of surprise as he was lifted up by the prehensile tail, and managed to keep himself from flailing like an idiot. 48 hadn’t dropped him before, in the elevator shaft, so although being held like this was somewhat frightening, he did his best to keep calm. Jet was even able to focus on 48’s amazing feat of scaling a relatively smooth surface, wondering how he managed it.
However, when he found himself dangling from his armpits over an 800 foot drop, with nothing but air under his tattered shoes, the boy started to panic. His whole body locked up, which kept him from screaming, but made it impossible to move his head from the downward position to which it had automatically snapped. His staring eyes wouldn’t even shut tightly like he wanted them to, as though they were fascinated with what could be his imminent death. The wind made his eyes water, which blinded him after a few minutes, which made things better in regards to his terror, but didn’t help much with locating the water plant from the air. Jet had to blink hard several times before he could get his bearings, and pretending he wasn’t that high up didn’t help. The sooner they landed, the better.
“The power plant’s over there, to your right…two o’ clock.” Did that make any sense? He hoped so. The plant wasn’t far, and pretty easily located by the smell, if you recognized it. A nearby dam used to feed the plant until the war broke out, and workers stopped the machines and stripped them for parts. Now, it was just a place full of stagnant and stinking pools, half-covered in overgrowth, not to mention a few recently-dead bodies of people and animals. Those never lasted too long out here. The place was mostly deserted, though a few dark lumps here and there indicated either hobos or animals were rooting around for garbage. 48 could easily land on the lip of one of the smaller reservoirs and drink fresh sewage. Jet was used to bad smells, but would probably still breathe into his shirt this close. Frankly, he would be glad to have his feet on the ground again; flying wasn’t what he’d thought it would be.
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“Well…yeah. At least, farmers do. The people in the city buy from the farmers, but that’s where veggies and fruit and stuff comes from- the earth. Meat we get from animals.”
Jet tried not to feel defensive about how little he weighed, even if he didn’t know what 250 kilograms meant in pounds. If you didn’t eat much, you tended to not weigh much. He’d been called a runt more than once, but whose fault was it he was a scrawny kid? Better not take it personally with 48, though.
Instead, Jet thought about where they could go for water where 48 wouldn’t be seen. For a moment, he frowned, standing before the creature like a silent statue. His mind went over some very detailed city maps he’d committed to memory, as well as outskirts.
“There’s the old water processing plant…if you say you can even drink the shitty stuff. No one’s likely to be down there but druggies and hobos, and no one believes them anyhow. I can show you where that is.” He tilted his head. “How are we going to do this, anyway? Do I get on your back, or what?”
Six feet or not, seeing 48 up close was terrifying, or should be. Jet found himself less and less perturbed by his companion’s appearance the longer he was with him. And yes, he was starting to think of 48 as a ‘him’ merely because the voice ‘he’ used was on a lower register. Human brains tended to compartmentalize things.
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Whatever 48 said, Jet did not understand it…at all. Well, alright, he understood that basically 48 needed water, no food, and no sleep. That was about as far as the boy got. Talk of Thorium fuel cells and electrolyzing water and such made his head spin. Street smarts he had, and he was intelligent enough, but school had never been part of his life. Most of what he learned he got from books and other sources. Math and science tended to elude him.
“So…you’re…powered by nuclear fuel?” How the hell he was supposed to get more Thorium was beyond the streetrat’s abilities. He didn’t even know what it looked like, where to find it, or how not to poison himself in the process. Jet hoped that when 48 said he wouldn’t need ‘outside sustenance’ for ten years, that meant the Thorium, or whatever. He’d like to not get radiation sickness too young. There was still lots he hadn’t seen or done.
At 48’s question about how humans worked, Jet blinked in surprise. “I guess no one ever told you, huh? Humans make their own food, but…like…we don’t make it ourselves. I mean, not in our own bodies. We eat plants and animals and stuff. Food’s all over if you know where to look for it. Most of mine is stuff other people throw out, or what I can take without getting caught. Sometimes the local churches or ‘kids’ club’ have meals, and there are soup kitchens, but you have to be careful about those.”
He didn’t elaborate on this particular point, only shuddering a bit. Too many crazy homeless people in one place meant runts like him were vulnerable. He’d had enough of that kind of trouble to last a lifetime.
“The war made it harder for kids like me to find food, but we get it where we can. I used to hunt possums and squirrels in the suburbs until the fighting got too bad.”
Realizing he’d started to ramble, the boy was about to apologize, when he heard the sound of leathery wings unfurling, and looked at 48 in surprise. Part of him wanted to warn the creature that they could still be vulnerable from anti-aircraft fire, except planes flew overhead all teh time and no one was shooting at them anymore. More than that, though, was the thought of flying, which seemed to sink into Jet’s heart like a silent prayer answered. He had always wanted to be able to fly, and his blue eyes shown, making him look somewhat younger than his years.
“Really? You can carry me?” It wasn’t that he doubted 48’s strength, quite the contrary. Jet just hadn’t expected 48 to want him to come with. He stepped forward, hesitated, feeling suddenly shy. It probably meant nothing to 48, but to Jet, who had no one, the world suddenly felt a little less lonely. It wouldn’t last, he knew, but he’d cling to what he could while he could.
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“Well…yeah, I guess…. Yeah. Places without people.” Jet felt stupid about that one. Of course not everywhere was populated.
Still, his face took on a concerned look, and he moved closer to 48, frowning deeply. “Do you know where those places are? I could show you, but I only know the ones outside the city. I’ve never been farther than that.” It was too dangerous to try and go anywhere where he wasn’t sure of resources.
Speaking of… “Do you need to eat or drink or sleep? I don’t know how you work, since I’ve never met anything like you. I have some food back at my place. I mean, it’s not much, but if you’re hungry maybe I can find a way to get it to you.” Not that he had much, but anyone living on the street would know that Jet was making the most generous offer he could. It wasn’t like he had anything else. Or anyone. Was he seriously trying to stall 48’s departure because he was so alone himself?