walkie talkie - excerpt from Sub Zero security records

“How ya doin’ in there, Whitey?” With a few clicks and hisses, the walkie-talkie lying on my table – well, what passed for a table in here – came to life, a sweet and cheery voice filling the stagnant air in Sub Zero. I pretty much jumped the moment I heard it – hell, I’d always jumped the moment I even thought I might have heard it – and scrambled over, tripping over my own stupid, numb legs in the process.

That was pretty much the closest thing to a daily routine I had: read until she had time to come down, and trip over my own dumb ass when I heard her.

“I’m...okay.” I just barely croaked it out. Same answer I always gave, and lately it felt lamer and lamer. “I mean, I’m good.” My voice didn’t wanna cooperate. I was trying to…to use it more, so it wouldn’t be so hard whenever she talked to me. She laughed, and the sound kind of made my heart leap into my throat.

“Ya sound better lately. You ain’t gettin’ TOO used to that hellhole, are ya?” No. Maybe. I didn’t know, and I mumbled out some half-assed answer. It hadn’t been so bad, since she slipped this thing into my MREs. Snuck me a clock, too, and a game boy, and books sometimes. She always figured it’d be hell to sit here doing nothing, she said. I was pretty used to it, though.

“Aw, geez. It just sounds depressin’ when ya say stuff like that.” I laughed. I mean, yeah, it kinda did. It was a dumb way to think, sure. But things could always get better, right? They were better now, even. I wasn’t surrounded by a bunch of other sick people. Nobody was going to surprise die on me. That was seriously the worst thing, man. You don’t even know. …Well, I guess magical girls were kinda used to that too. Shit.

“You…Goddamn, son. Yer a real ray’a sunshine, ain’t ya?” A huff. …Even that sounded kinda warm, coming from her. “When…when we get ya outta there, we’re not gonna talk about none o’ that anymore, alright? You ain’t get ta witch out three steps out the door.”

I mumbled out a little apology. I wasn’t upset or anything, I was trying to make a joke. You kinda have to after a point, right?

“…Aw, ya got me. Just…kinda hard ta believe you can still joke in there, some days.”

---

“Y’know, this reminds me a little bit sometimes of when me’n Annie was little.” Mary Sue was kinda quiet today. I think she and her sister had a fight. She loved to talk, though, so ‘quiet’ was pretty relative. I asked her what she meant, and she just sighed.

“Well, she ain’t never been real tough, ‘fore we was magical girls. What’cha call a, uh, heavy reader. Mostly sat around playin’ vidya games’n watchin’ Chinese cartoons, ‘n readin’ on the playground instead’a shootin’ at birds or squirrels. She got picked on a whole lot.”

I bet Mary beat the shit out of ‘em for it.

“Yup. Every single one. Broke a couple noses, couple arms. Couple balls, too. Ain’t nobody fucks with the Springfield Sisters. …But she’d still get all mopey, ‘n start sulkin’ around in our room. Wouldn’t come out for nothin’, ‘n Ah’d sit up against the door jus’ like this, ‘n she’d sit on the other side.”

That’s what I’m doing, too.

“I could kinna tell. I could…sorta feel ya there.” I mumbled an apology and started to move, but my walkie talkie rang out. “You best not be movin’. It ain’t that. Ah just…Ah mean, it’s almost…warm. S’nice.”

…Yeah. It was really nice, in a weird way. I couldn’t really explain it, so I tried to remind her of where she left off instead.

“Right, yeah. So we’d sit’n talk just like this, ‘n she’d bawl, an’ Ah’d get mad again, at her for bein’ a wuss and at everyone else for makin’ her feel worse. Worry it mighta…screwed her up, sometimes.”

“…Nah. You’re her big sister. S’probably why she’s tough now. You just had to…protect her until then. And stuff.” It sounded better in my head. Everything I said to Mary sounded better in my head. She gave me a weak ‘heh, yeah’ in response, and I scrambled to find something to talk about and fill the…no, fuck it. It wasn’t to fill the silence.

I just…needed us to keep talking. This whole room was a lot brighter when she was there. I tried to say that much, at least, but it caught in my throat, and I ended up going on about some of the people I knew once. This one guy and his little sister, mostly. Guy was an asshole. A real motherfucker, like, I’d seen him sneak medical supplies out and try to stab nurses and stuff if they got anywhere near his sister and him.

I helped him do it a couple of times. Dunno why exactly. I guess we were friends. He was older than me, but he was…cool. Everyone does dumb shit sometimes, right? For cool people?

“Is this…uh, is this gonna get depressin’?”

…Huh?

“Ah love it when ya start talkin’, Sab, but every time ya start talkin’ about th’hospital, somebody dies.” She was quiet. …I couldn’t tell what she was thinking through the stupid crappy sound quality of the walkie talkie. “He dies, don’t he?”

…Yeah. They shot him, just a little bit before I contracted.

“…And yer still makin’ jokes? I…Jesus, Sab.”

…Sorry.

“Naw, it’s…Ah’m gonna… …Gimme a few. Arright?”

---

It took about an hour, but that was fine. Wasn’t like I had anywhere to be. I sat there by the door, waiting, staring down at the walkie talkie. There weren’t really any other sounds in there…like, ever, so it pretty much scared the piss out of me when the heavy duty doors behind me started to…click. I fired off a barrage of swear words in my head and pushed myself to my feet, bolting for the back of Sub Zero. The field was gonna get screwed up like this, wasn’t it? Shit, I didn’t know how this stupid room worked. Why were they opening the door? Who would do that?

“Aw man, this place sucks. The hell’re ya hidin’, Sab?” Her…her voice echoed through all of Sub Zero. No walkie talkie garbling it, no…no ambiguity at all. …I smelled. I knew I smelled. I looked like a hobo in a dirty fucking hospital gown. I couldn’t. I couldn’t do this. That was how she’d think of me forever.

“…Sab?” Shit she was getting closer fuck me fuck me fuck me. I tried to drag a blanket over myself, but the stupid thing got caught on some debris, and then…

“You playin’ hide’n seek or somethin’?” I looked back, and…and there she was. Golden hair that just…shined in the dim light, and…and she was wearing even less than I was. Denim shorts, and-was that a bikini top? Oh man she was gonna freeze her ass off in th..yeah, she…she already was-

“Hey…Ah ain’t gonna hurt ya or nothin’. It’s Mary. Y’know. From the walkie talkie.” She grinned, and it lit up the room. Not literally, but, like…I dunno. I just sort of stared at her. I didn’t know what to say, my heart was beating out of my chest. “…Ah, uh…Ah brought ya some ice cream. Figured we could split it.”

…Yeah.

…That’d be cool.

---

…They didn’t know what to do anymore. I could barely get the MREs down before they rotted away, and MREs are pretty much designed not to do that ever. I hadn’t heard from her in days, not since the walkie talkie gave out. I think it’s days. Calendar turned to shit, too. Clock’s rusted up. Game boy’s dead. Couldn’t even read a fucking magazine anymore.

…I didn’t know what to do either. I was scared. Terrified, even. I’d done some pretty awful shit, but…I mean, that was supposed to be the end, until they could fix me. I was supposed to get out. I was…sort of sliding toward the end of my rope, and the whole thing was rotting away above me on top of that. It’d been nice for a couple months, though. Since she started talking to me. …I could almost hear her for a while, when I held it tight enough. But that just made it rust away faster.

The door started to click, days, or maybe weeks after everything was gone. I didn’t bother running this time. …It was…I hoped it was her. It had to be her.

…

She looked so sad. Like she was gonna cry. Just seeing her like that made me want to throw up. And it was only gonna get worse, if she stuck around.

“…Don’t go tellin’ me ta leave,” she sighed. She could pretty much read my mind, even though we’d only met face to face a couple of times. “You missed me, didn’tcha?”

…Yeah… I fought back tears as hard as I could. Resisted the urge to…to hug her, or something. It’d probably kill her. Didn’t stop her, though – she kept on moving toward me. I started to inch away, then she…dove. Practically tackled me, and buried her face in my dirty hospital gown, arms wrapping around my neck.

“…I’m gonna get you outta here. Just…just hang in there a little while longer. We got a plan, okay?” Her voice was straining, and…shit. I could feel wet, warm blood soaking through my gown. I tried to shove her away, but she dug her nails in.

“I said ‘okay’? You gotta promise yer gonna hold on ‘til then.”

…She was gonna die if I kept her here any longer, but…but my arms slipped around her, too. For just a second.

…I promised, but only if she got the hell out. Like, now.

“…Heh…worryin’ about me…it don’t even hurt.” …I could feel her fingernails loosening. Coming off of her hands, as she held on tight. “…It don’t even hurt, but…”

“Get out, man. You’re getting my prom dress all teary.” It was a lame, shitty joke, and I gave her a lame, shitty smile to go with it. She wouldn’t look at me, just pulled away. A mess of golden hair finally tarnished by this stupid, awful room. …No, tarnished by me. A mop, over a bloody mess that should have been her face.

“…I’m gonna get y’out. I promise,” she mumbled one last time, before striding toward the door. …She was going pretty fast, but I could tell she was trying really, really hard not to look like she wanted out.

“…Yeah,” I whispered into the dark after her, as the lights in the room started to flicker and die. “I know.”