Periphery Page 4

  They Came from Next Door

  By Kristyn Dunnion

  Axis and Drew always fucked like it might be the very last time. For all they knew, it was. Axis slapped Drew, swore and pushed her. They wrestled as they undressed. They fought for real and for fun. They laughed loudly, waking the neighbors. Axis, more petite, threw Drew to the small lumpy bed. She straddled her and pinched her nipples, hard. She bit and scratched at her, sucked her skin. Drew took it all; she always did, but even better—she knew when to push back. Drew knew her timing. She rose up, her eyes burning right through Axis, held those struggling toned and tattooed arms at her side, and shoved her against the cold wall next to the old wooden dresser. Drew pressed against her. Axis wrapped her strong legs around, arched her back. When Drew moved her hands—one to support Axis, one to hold her shaved head—Axis pulled Drew’s hair, ruffled her dark pompadour. Their mouths met, kissing, breathing, making their animal sounds. Axis reached down to the cock harness and guided Drew’s hips. Drew tried to side step; she liked to tease Axis before entering, liked to move slowly and make her work for it. Axis grabbed Drew’s cock and brought it inside her. “There’s no time,” she hissed. Drew smiled and sat her firmly onto the dresser. There’s always time to fuck a woman properly. That’s what she’d say if she didn’t have her mouth full. Sometimes it was important to make a girl wait.

  Jasmin strode down the dark alley, past a series of hovels made primarily of dumpster-dived wood and metal, held together by wishful thinking. She hated walking through this section of unregulated shacks. More than that, she hated to interrupt. She could hear Axis and Drew fucking from several doors down. She took a deep breath, apologized to Kronk and pounded her meaty fist against the door. A pretty neighbor peeked out her own duct-taped window at Jasmin. The large, tattooed butch shrugged her shoulders and winked. The woman blushed and looked away quickly.

  “Drew,” she hollered, “Let’s go! Count down’s on.” She saw a couple of skinny kids hiding in the shadows. They giggled, then darted away at the next loud sound: furniture slamming into the wall.

  Damn!

  She could hear Axis panting and moaning. There was no way they’d stop now. They sounded like bandits, like wild dogs. Jasmin loosened her collar. She twirled her Berettas and re-holstered them. A crash made her jump; something had smashed to the hard floor inside. She tried the door but it was barred. She couldn’t just stand here, listening to them, for Kronk’s sake.

  A small sound made her look up. The neighbor opened her door. She looked shy. Then she made eye contact. Jasmin smiled. Maybe it was the pheromones, maybe the power of suggestion. The woman, a small brunette, started undoing the buttons on her housedress.

  Double damn!

  Jasmin didn’t stop to think twice. The revolution had been a long time in the making—well over a hundred years. It could definitely wait for one more fuck.

  *

  It was still before the bombs went off, three in thundering succession, lighting up the night sky better than the state-sanctioned fireworks at Kronk’s Awakening. Axis crouched behind the stone wall encircling the gated Firsts Only community. The sign, Luxury Condo World: Gay Lesbian Exclusive! was half in shadows, half lit in a flickering orange glow. Massive billowing dust clouds, shooting trails of sparking gas, and the primal lure of giant flames mesmerized her. It was way bigger than she’d imagined. Waves of hot air blew ash into her face. She squinted, picked a burnt piece of something out of her eye. She blinked and tears ran out, down her cheek. She blinked again.

  Drew should’ve been here by now, should’ve cleared her post and radioed ahead for the car. That first wave was a warning, meant to empty the buildings. The next would gut the city’s entire power system.

  Sirens.

  Still no Drew. Axis rubbed her arm absently, where Drew’s teeth had left a mark.

  Firsts began streaming out of Condo World. Gay and lesbian Firsts and their genetically superior offspring, purebred pets quivering at their feet, followed by their most trusted registered live-in servicers. Grade A gay and lesbian employees, compliant and clean, all awaiting orders. Nannies and tutors, housekeepers and cooks, security guards and the occasional long-term escort. They were all so professional and discrete, even in the face of civic disaster. Some were obviously injured, but most were just in shock.

  Then came the squealing and high-strung stylists, personal trainers, estheticians, drug dealers, tennis instructors, drivers, general escorts, DJs, strippers, baristas, drag queens and bartenders. All from Next Door. Together their voices rose in chaos, shrieks and cries and Oh My Kronks, so many geese chased away from a lovely picnic. Next Door was a low, ugly concrete building with underground walkways adjoining the condos. It was close enough in case of some cosmetic or recreational emergency, far enough away to not lower the property values.

  Axis picked up the heavy briefcase and crawled farther into the shadows, following the wall away from the scene, back behind the gathering crowd of onlookers. She straightened her long black wig and the hem of the designer dress she was wearing. She checked her watch again. She had to leave now if she wanted to escape and she had no way to contact the secure ride. She’d have to find her own.

  Damn that Drew.

  She walked quickly toward the highway’s soft shoulder, scanning the parked cars there. Most had well-dressed people either still inside, staring out open windows, or standing outside in small shocked groups. Nobody spoke to her or even looked twice. Her costume helped her blend in, but it hardly mattered. Everyone was frozen, stunned by the scene before them. A female First walked away from her car, door wide open, keys dangling in the ignition, children still tucked in the backseat. It was tempting, but Axis did not need the hassle of a multiple kidnapping charge, or that of the unattended brats. She had fifty seconds left to jack and get out of the core.

  Axis jogged along the edge of the roadway and tried each car door as she passed it. A hired driver leaned against a gleaming black Bentley. He didn’t even see her, just took the hit, slumped to the ground and lay unnoticed in the chaos. The keys spilled from his jacket pocket. Axis unlocked the door, slipped behind the wheel, set the briefcase beside her. Her gloved hands shook a little as she turned the ignition.

  Done.

  She pulled into traffic and wove around the slowing and stalled vehicles. Sirens blared and the spinning red lights nearly blinded her. They raced toward the scene as she drove away. Axis peeled onto the nearest expressway entrance ramp and gunned the motor. What a smooth ride. Drew would shit herself to see this beast pull up at the rendezvous. She’d want to baptize it proper, want to stretch out in the luxurious back seat, fuck long and hard, steaming up the tinted windows and soaking the plush leather upholstery. Axis accelerated, passed a large van and cut back in front of it. Nice.

  Sweat beaded on her forehead and upper lip. She swallowed. She wanted to be as far away as possible when the secondary devices hit the main gas line and fuel storage tanks. That’s when the carnage would really start. Unless of course that was what maybe got Drew stalled up. If all went according to plan, the rest of the city’s emergency crews would be pulled into high gear by the time the citywide blackout was triggered. She should be crossing the bridge, leaving the city limits by then. In this car she’d be able to drive clear through without setting off the automated license and ID check point system.

  Twelve minutes.

  She exhaled deeply, checked the rearview mirror. No tails.

  “Kronk!”

  An impromptu roadblock was being set up just ahead. One cop car was parked at an angle, blocking the outer two lanes of traffic, cherry spinning on top. A tall man waved her to the side with a set of flares. The drivers ahead swerved and slowed down, blocking the other lanes. Axis had to pull over. Cops were inspecting the occupants of each car with flashlight interrogations and ID checks. Axis had just enough time to push the briefcase onto the floor and rifle through the glove compartment. She found some papers, hopefully the car regist
ration and insurance information, an old lipstick, a pair of expensive underpants, and a gorgeous H&K .50 caliber pistol. She checked to see the gun was loaded, the safety off. She tucked it on the seat underneath the skirt of her dress. She smoothed the lingerie, a filmy pink with frilly layers on the back, onto the passenger seat. Then she quickly applied a shiny red coat on her lips. She pocketed the make up tube and checked herself in the rearview mirror.

  Whose kronking car had she stolen, anyways?

  *

  The basement was dark, damp and musty. Extra storage units were barred and locked in one wing, the furnace room was off in another. In the centre, Jasmin and Drew were up to their elbows in wire, breakers and electronic paneling. They were wearing matching uniforms. Both were heavily armed. A large schematics map of the neighbourhood lay open on a greasy bench. This was the hub of the Exclusive Gay Lesbian Condo World, the dirty, neglected heart of the beast. Here lay access to the central heating, cooling, electronic, water and gas systems for the entire area. Emergency generators, a backup lighting system, the computerized alarm program. It was all connected, and all located here in the bowels of an otherwise sparkling building. “Kin’ell!” Drew dropped the clamp and brought her Maglite in for closer inspection. “The kronking wires are rotted through and this bloody leak isn’t helping at all.”

  “Maybe those bigwigs wouldn’t pay so much money if they knew how shitty their castle was built.”

  “Quiet, Jasmin. I’m trying to think.” Drew wiped her handsome face with a cloth, then stuffed it back into the pocket of her mechanic’s overalls. She ruffled her short, dark pompadour. Then she picked up the clamp and started working again. She carefully set the flammable fuel containers along the overhead beam. Her muscles strained with each movement.

  “Done yet?” Jasmin leaned forward and breathed loudly over Drew’s shoulder. “You’re blocking my light, bulldagger.”

  “Sorry.” Jasmin backed up and crossed her large arms in front of her ample chest. She spun her twin Berettas, re-holstered them, checked her Uzi, rubbed the handle, then stepped up to peer at Drew’s progress again. “I wouldn’t pay a fortune to live here, even if I had it.”

  “We’re not here to feel sorry for them,” Drew said. “Yeah, I know. I’m just saying.”

  “Remind me why I let you come,” Drew growled.

  “Case any of those rich fuckers try to mess you ’fore you get them dirty bombs all set. Also, coz you’re too pussy to shoot and I’m a Dishonourable Discharge with attitude. That looks real nice, Drew.”

  “Thanks. Now shut up for real or I’ll set it off right now.” Drew finished setting the timer and checked her watch. “For shit’s sake we’re late. Hope Axis is all clear.” Jasmin whistled. “That’s some fine woman. Quite a scrapper,” she added, indicating the trail of bruises down Drew’s neck and arms. “Lucky dawg.” Drew puffed up a bit taller. She smiled sadly. “Yous fuck like wild beasts. It’s enough to bring tears to my eyes,” Jasmine laughed. Drew punched her but didn’t really mean it. She couldn’t say a word, just picked up the heavy case she’d brought down and started to put stuff away. They worked in silence, twining rope, picking up the tools, folding the map. Jasmine did a quick once over of the place while Drew packed the rest away.

  “Think we’ll make it?” Jasmine asked nonchalantly, not making eye contact with Drew.

  “Not a kronking chance.” Drew slapped her friend’s back. “But that’s not the point and you know it.”

  They hoisted the heavy bags onto their backs. Then they ran like hell.

  *

  Panties, lipstick and a gorgeous gun. My kind of girl.

  Owning a handgun wasn’t at all unusual for a powerful member of the wealthy, gay elite. But it certainly could complicate things for Axis, should it be discovered. She suddenly wondered if there were other surprises awaiting her. In the trunk, for instance.

  A man was shouting at her now, and flashing a badge near her window. He motioned for her to lower it. She smiled at him as she did so. He was in his late forties probably, with short graying hair and a wrinkled brow. He had nice eyes.

  “ID, Miss. I’ll need to see the car registration, insurance, the works.”

  She nodded and handed over her counterfeit ID card. He scanned it manually. She knew it would list name, age, occupation, blood type, most recent security checks, DNA test results, extensive health certificates and any other relevant history. If he cross-referenced it on the mainframe, he’d learn that it matched the description belonging to a healthy twenty-five-year-old escort who was away on business, traveling with her exclusive employer, a prominent First in the lesbian community. When they eventually returned they’d find their belongings a molten lumpy mess, the condo blasted to smithereens. No more tanning beds, no more tennis courts.

  “Kelly?”

  She nodded and smiled more fully at him. He peered into the backseat with the flashlight in hand. The light spilled up into the passenger seat, onto the lingerie and froze. Axis leaned into the flashlight beam. She felt the warmth pool onto her neck, into her cleavage. She turned her head slightly and her long black hair dripped across her bare skin. She could feel him looking. Maybe he lived in the outskirts, an honest to goodness actual straight man. Maybe she’d actually have to trade favors to get out of this one. She shivered.

  “So, you’re an escort?” He cleared his throat.

  She nodded again and lowered her eyes slightly. How else could she navigate the lofty world of Firsts, gay or straight, with any degree of independence?

  “Tell me,” he said, “You must make an awful lot of money. How does an escort afford a car like this?”

  “It’s not mine, of course,” she said. “It belongs to my employer. I’m on an errand and must get back quickly.” Her hand twitched slightly on her right thigh.

  He typed the license plate in then looked back at her. There was longing and desire, she could feel it.

  “Registration papers, please.” His voice was husky.

  Axis handed over the papers, scanning them quickly for a name. When he took them his fingers held hers. He traced the inside of her wrist.

  “You’re not registered as an employee of Ms. Bixton. Why are you driving her car?”

  “I’m not hers full time—probably why I’m not registered. Escorts rarely are.” Her mind raced for a plausible reason. There was no same-sex stigma anymore, not like in the old days when people were “closeted” with their secret desires. And it was quite common for singles or even married couples to hire escorts for special occasions, regular dates or for longer engagements. They just wouldn’t eat at the same table or share personal items.

  Or let them drive their expensive cars around town.

  She picked up the panties and caressed them almost absentmindedly. His mouth dropped open slightly. “She has a migraine and needs her prescription filled right away. Her chauffeur is, uh, incapacitated. The delivery service is down and she couldn’t get through on the condo priority management line. I need to get back quickly.”

  “I doubt you’ll be able to drive back tonight.”

  Axis said, “There is a lot of commotion, do you know what’s happening?” She clutched the panties in her gloved fist. She lowered her lashes at him. The bulge in his pants told her all she needed to know.

  “Terrorists. Degenerate Lasts, probably.”

  Lasts. Not this time, she thought wryly. She leaned forward, out the car window. She placed the lingerie in his hands. He dropped his pen.

  He rubbed the delicate fabric with a dirty thumbnail.

  Just then his radio crackled. It startled them both. Then shouts in the background drew his attention. A skirmish at the car behind hers brought another cop running past them. The man pocketed the panties. He handed back the fake ID. His eyes bore into her. Save me, they said. Come back for me. Make this happen for real.

  Axis whispered goodbye, tragically. She hit the accelerator. She was not going back and she was not saving anyone but herself to
night.

  Axis exhaled loudly. She set the gun on the seat beside her, checked her watch, swore, and then drove away. She pulled the long black wig off and rubbed her itchy bald head. She barely reduced her speed as she pulled the dress up around her waist, then worked one arm at a time out of the long sleeves and into the body of the material. With her left hand she removed the whole thing over the top of her head. Underneath she wore tight black pants and big lace up boots with silver knives holstered on her calves. She had a black sleeveless shirt that revealed the corporate arm brand given to her at birth: Coca Cola owned her. She’d worked the factory for more than a decade until her asthma got too bad to breathe, even with the O² mask on, and her hair fell out from chemical exposure. Then she was moved into sales and accounting for another five years, and got to live Next Door. The day the Medical Lab test results came back she was fired and evicted from the tiny bachelor apartment. Early retirement was a one-way ticket to the filthy, lawless underground and the damning tattoos right below her branding: TB, HIV, LEUK, CAN. It was a death sentence and more. She was thrown out like so much garbage, no longer able to pull long hours without endangering the other workers or the neighboring Firsts.

  Exile had almost destroyed her, yet it had also delivered her right to the embittered Resistance and, in that same moment, right to Drew. Drew loved her hard and dirty, calling forth those internal demons and daring them with her passion. Drew knew just how to talk to her; quiet, like she was some frightened beast. She knew how to hold Axis strong with those big hands, how to bite, chew and kiss her way along that long spine, how to open her right up. Drew brought her down to earth and sent her reeling, all at the same time. With one hand on the back of her neck and one curled up inside her, Drew could have her crying on her knees in the cold, dark room they shared. She could coax her into any shameful position, cause her to scream out for more of the same. She introduced Axis to herself, in a manner of speaking, and brought her back to life.