I stared at the walls of my quarters, mind numb and body cold.

  They had escorted me onto their ship after I had swallowed the data-stick, and dumped me into a room that was a big step down from my last living quarters. Gone were the multiple rooms and instead I had one room just big enough for me to stretch my arms out in, gone were the silk sheets and goose feather filled pillows; instead I had a bed pushed up against the wall that wasn’t big enough for a child. It came with an itchy blanket and lumpy pillow, which I was sure I had seen move.

  I tilted my head back and tried to close my eyes but all I could see were images of blood, vacant eyes and mangled limbs.

  They offered me food as the days passed but I refused to eat, only drinking the water they gave me. I wasn’t on a hunger strike, but whenever I ate anything I would throw it back up. Maybe I was still in shock from the blood bath I had witnessed. Maybe I felt some sense of guilt for causing the death of those men. Maybe….

  A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. “Come in.”

  The door slid open to reveal Paige aka Poppy. She smiled at me as she walked inside and looked for somewhere to sit, but as the only thing in the room was my bed and bag, she opted to sit next to me on the bed. A tingle swept through me as our knees touched, but I pushed it down as the images of her handiwork popped up in my mind.

  “Sooo,” she said, drawing out the word, “how you doing?”

  I gave her a raised eyebrow as my hands swept over my surroundings. “I couldn’t be better. My life has really improved after running into you folks. I feel like I’m on top of the world.”

  “Fair point; stupid question I suppose.”

  We settled back into silence while she fidgeted with her fingers; I looked at her out of the corner of my eye and I saw a tattoo on her right shoulder, the same one I had glimpsed through her shirt when I had first met her. It felt like a decade had passed since then. The tattoo was of a graceful white nine-tailed fox with piercing green eyes.

  “José asked me to come here, he’s our crew leader who you met, because Willis is threatening to storm in here and force his arm down your throat so he can get the data-stick. José would rather wait till you…. pass it out,” she said going red in the face, “and I agree with him but Willis has the patience of a terrier on coke, so I’m here to make sure he leaves you alone and offer you a tour of our fine ship, The Kennel.”

  She got up and offered me her hand, which I took hesitantly, allowing her to lift me to my feet. “My name’s Poppy Palmer. I normally use a different name while working undercover.”

  I followed her out of the ship and allowed my eyes to adjust to the sights I had failed to see upon arrival.

  The ship had a rusted antique feel to it, which was also homely at the same time. Tarnished walls surrounded me and every so often we would pass a wall with Bible passages written in chalk. I stopped in front of one that read:

  “‘Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.’”

  “That’s Willis’s doing,” Poppy said, standing next to me.

  “Is he a priest?” I asked in disbelief.

  “He’s… complicated. Well, I guess we all are in one way or another, but yes, he used to be a priest then something changed. Something—well, it’s not for me to say really. But you’ll find these all over the walls on the ship; I think it gives it character.”

  I wouldn’t agree with her on that point, but finding out Willis was a priest or used to be was amazing. The World Government had outlawed Christianity and other religions after WW3. Although there had been outrage and there had been demonstrations to prevent the laws from being passed, the destruction of modern war had broken people’s spirits and wills. The Earth was near collapse and differences like religion had to be put aside, as a World Government was created amongst the ten strongest countries across the globe, which all shared power equally.

  Each country had an appointed representative who sat on the council and backed the interests of their countries and the surrounding nations as best as they could. It was far from a perfect situation, but it was better than the alternative. But even in the past, they had said only the elite few controlled things in the shadows; now they were just doing it out in the open.

  We continued past walls with wires hanging out of sockets and pieces of machinery piled in corners.

  “Your ship sure has a… lived-in feel to it,” I said, trying to choose my words wisely.

  Poppy tilted her head back and the sweetest sound escaped her lips, which caused my heart to skip a beat. It was warm and gentle all at the same time.

  “Sorry,” I said, realising she had spoken.

  “I said, it’s not the sexiest ship to be on or the newest. But the old girl does what we ask her to do, nothing more, nothing less.”

  A faint waft of herbs and spices tickled the hairs of my nose causing my head to turn left. Poppy eyed my reaction with a smile and changed direction. I followed her and the further we walked, the stronger the smells got; it wasn’t only herbs and spices I could smell anymore, the smell of meat being char-grilled made me salivate and the sound of fat popping and cooking was like music to my ears as we finally came upon an open canteen.

  A large industrial stove and cooker rested against the back wall of the canteen, with an open charcoal grill placed next to it on the same wall. A ten-foot-long counter with herbs and spices and cooking utensils stood some way from the stove and grill, and behind that stood a bear of a man.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Six foot four with a mixture of fat and muscle, his brown complexion and dark locks gave way to a smile as he saw us approach. He lifted one giant paw of a hand and pushed back his locks as he placed down the knife he was holding in the other.

  “What do we have there then?” he asked in an accent hard to place.

  “Tuari, this is Quinton Blake,” Poppy said, pointing my way. “I would love to tell you his last name, Quinton, but it’s a secret he won’t even divulge with us, because we have a sweepstakes going amongst the crew as to what nationality or origin his fat ass is from. We have bets ranging from Greek to Mexican and anywhere in between.”

  “Hey! Less of the fat—you know I have a thyroid problem!”

  “Sure,” Poppy said with an eye roll. “It wouldn’t be because of all the cakes you’ve been baking?”

  “You know what they say, never trust a skinny chef,” he replied.

  I stood back and looked at Tuari and could see her point: it was hard to place his origins and the accent switched ever so slightly from word to word. “That accent of yours is fake, and I’ll bet your name isn’t even Tuari.”

  There was silence as the pair shared a look broken by Tuari slapping the table in laughter. “Ha, I like this one! I like this one. Maybe my name is Tuari, maybe it’s not. Maybe I was born on the beautiful beach of Balos in Crete,” he said, voice and accent changing ever so slightly, “maybe I was born in the city of Tehran in Iran,” he said, voice changing again, “or maybe I was born in San Miguel De Allende in Mexico,” he finished with a smile, voice flowing seamlessly into a Mexican accent.

  I couldn’t help but smile at the big man’s infectious personality. He resumed chopping and threw over his shoulder some herbs that fell onto the meat he was cooking on the grill behind him. He spun around and pressed the herbs onto the meat, which caused flames to flicker and dance in the air. Picking a piece of meat up from the grill he passed it over to me. I took it and bit into it without a second thought, juice running down my chin; the smoky flavour wasn’t so overpowering that it overrode the herbs on it.

  “So I hear you have something we want, wee boyo,” Tuari said, accent once again changing, “something people will kill over. Something precious. And it’s stuck in that wee belly of yours. Now I know that Strawberry Fruitcake Willis would love to take it by force, but there is more than one way to skin a cat.

  “For instance, there are certain herbs and spices one could eat which would cause the person to lose control of their bowels. Forcing them on the toilet till nothing is left, then they would be so weak to resist it would be a simple case of pushing them aside while one sieved for gold.”

  I stopped eating and looked at the piece of meat he had given me, a feeling of dread settling in my stomach as I wiped my face clean.

  Nobody spoke as I inspected the meat closer. Shit, what was I going to do? I could already feel my legs going weak and—

  Both Poppy and Tuari exploded in laughter as they watched a range of expressions cross my face. Tuari handed another piece of cooked meat to Poppy, who ate it with relish, licking her fingers clean after she was done.

  “Don’t worry, hombre, I would never plan to harm you. Not yet,” he said, eyes turning cold and forcing me to take a step back, “not yet.”

  Poppy manoeuvred me back the way we came, passing more closed doors and junctions, till we came to an open door that smelled like a brewery and had soft hymn music playing in the background.

  “Damn,” Poppy muttered under her breath as we neared the door, “just keep moving and—”

  “Who looks to seek past the door of judgement?” came a voice from inside the room.

  I slowed down and looked inside to see a room converted into some sort of holy shrine. Pictures of Jesus, biblical imagery and crosses covered the walls. A small altar rested against one back wall, with open candles along its edge; a small canister emitting scented smoke rested in its centre.

  “Willis Moor! How many times has José asked you not to keep open flames going in your room? You remember the last time you fell asleep and we had to drag your drunk naked ass out, before you died of smoke inhalation.”

  Willis sat crossed-legged on the floor, beer bottles around him as he took another sip from a bottle in his hand. He was naked except for his underwear. Lean muscle covered his body; whereas Tuari was built like a bear, Willis had the body of a cat. Multiple scars covered his body. I looked away as he caught me looking.

  “I want those out by the time I get back.”

  “Only the Lord can instruct me on what—”

  “If not I’ll tell José the toilets need cleaning again. I’m sure he can think of someone to give the task to.”

  “There are special places in hell for people like you! Hell! Where your spine is ripped through your ass, and your legs are broken and remade and broken—”

  “Let’s go,” Poppy said, leading the way as Willis’s rant continued. “Once he gets started, he’ll be at it all night.”

  I followed her along corridors and past hallways till we reached a large double set of doors, with two deep claw marks gouged into the metal.

  “That’s what you get for agreeing to deliver bear hybrids to Mars, from a planet which has only been colonised for ten years,” she said with a shudder as I inspected them. “The place was a hellhole. Spiders the size of pit bulls and ants the size of spiders.”

  She continued forward and the doors slid open allowing us on the bridge of the ship.

  “And this is the bridge,” Poppy said with a smile. “You’re bound to find someone here or in the canteen no matter the time. Anyway, I think there’s someone who wants to speak to you. I’ll leave you to it.”

  She exited the way she came and I walked forward hesitantly until I saw the crown of a dark brown head.

  “Don’t stand there all day, boyo,” came the gruff voice.

  I looked behind me and bit the inside of my cheek. Was I safe? If they wanted to do anything to me they would have done so already, surely?

  Making up my mind I took another few steps forward until I was standing in front of José. He indicated for me to take a seat next to him.

  Tinted blue shades looked my way, while he took a puff on a cigar.

  He said nothing as he surveyed me like a puzzle to be solved, or prey to be stalked and killed.

  “I don’t believe I’ve properly introduced myself, my name is José Battle and this is my crew; we like to call ourselves the Junk Yard Dogs or JYD for short.

  “We specialize in the collection and delivery of most things. I guess you could say we are a courier company.... in a sense.”

  I gave him a look of disbelief but kept my thoughts to myself. If he wanted to act like his business was legit or right then who was I to burst his bubble? All I saw were a group of hired killers. Through all the smiles and jokes, and easy-going nature, I still couldn’t unsee what I saw back on the Xcorp ship.

  “I know this situation is not ideal but you have no one to blame but yourself; if you had done as we had asked then you would be safe and sound back at home, instead of with us.”

  “You expect me to believe I wouldn’t have ended up like the others on the ship?”

  José lowered his glasses and gave me a pitying look before raising them back up. “The others were a threat. You are not. The others knew what they were signing up for and they were well paid for it. Do not pity or mourn a soldier who goes into battle willingly, because it is his destiny and choice to do so.

  “Instead pity the innocent victim who can do nothing but watch and stare while choices are made for them, even though they do not want them to be.”

  “Sometimes life makes victims out of us, no matter what we do.”

  “It is interesting you think so, amigo,” he said, as he got up to his feet and walked to the viewing screen with a smile.

  “No matter how many times I see it, it always makes me smile. Home.”

  I turned to the screen and saw what appeared to be a small planet slightly bigger than Earth’s moon appear on the screen. Terraformed for human living, I supposed; I just hoped it wouldn’t be my final resting place.