We were back in the car and speeding along the highway, Tuari was riding with José next to him up front, Willis was to my right with Poppy sitting to my left in the back.

  We sat in silence as we sped past cars on the road, cutting some off, overtaking others. The view outside the car window offered me nothing but derelict buildings with people’s clothes hanging outside the windows to dry. Hustlers and pimps stood on street corners and eyeballed everyone who stared their way for too long.

  “Are all the boroughs like this?” I asked.

  “No,” Tuari said, tugging on the steering wheel sharply, “Paradise Lost is where the bottom feeders live, the people who are desperately trying to make a living. The other boroughs are all different, each one unique in its own way and offering services only they can provide. Paradise Lost, for example, is where the best alcohol is made and where the best rats can be employed to find out any information you want.

  “The Jungle, on the other hand, is the best borough to get fresh produce from, but they also deal in chemical weapons, poisons, dirty bombs and technology; if you want something made they are the people you go to.”

  “If Paradise Lost is such a shithole then why run your base of operations here?”

  “Because, mi amigo,” José said, lighting a cigar, “everything comes through the streets of The Lost first, before it makes its way towards the other boroughs. The other boroughs may be nicer, but I would rather see an invasion than hear about it third hand.”

  “Plus this is our home,” said Poppy, “and there’s no place like home.”

  José looked at the computer attached to his wrist as a flashing light was emitted from it. He pressed a finger to his lips for silence and tapped its surface.

  “Hola, I hear you’ve been having a lot of problems lately,” said a voice that purred like a tigress through the speakers.

  “You could say something like that, but it’s nothing my crew haven’t dealt with before; it’s just another day in the office. Fools will always try their luck, that’s what fools do.”

  “Indeed.”

  I felt an irrational grip of fear as I listened to that voice. It spoke of danger and violence at a moment’s notice, yet you would beg and plead to just keep listening to it.

  “I’ve had a few... issues of my own, I’ve had to deal with—“

  “Do you need any help?” José asked.

  “I thank you for the offer, but you know better than to ask me that. My men are more than able to take care of any problems which arise, no matter how small or large.” What sounded like a distant scream could be heard in the background, but it was cut off abruptly.

  “Sometimes people forget how I got to this position, just like when the waters of the seas are tranquil people so quickly forget the devastating power of its waves, or the monsters that lurk underneath its surface.”

  “Until they are reminded again,” José said, blowing a smoke ring out of the window.

  “Until they are reminded again,” said the voice over the speaker. “I know we had an arrangement to meet up at our normal spot, but I’m afraid things have changed. Eyes are all over Paradise Lost, so I shall send you the coordinates to a new location. I’m afraid it’s off-world but this is the safest option for both of us.”

  “I understand. Send over the information and I shall see you soon.”

  “It shall be my pleasure,” said the voice before the line went dead.

  “Tuari, change of plans. Take us to The Kennel; it appears we are going for a little trip,” José, said leaning back in his chair as a smile lingered on his lips.

  * * *

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  I was back on the JYD’s ship, The Kennel, and was eating alone in the canteen. I was eating the leftover bouillabaisse meal Tuari had made; it tasted delicious and did its best to fill the hole in my soul.

  I had been disinfected, washed, bandaged and taken care of by Poppy, who even gave me something for the pain as my body tried its best to heal. But what I saw. What I had done. I didn’t know if I would ever recover from it; I felt like a different person. It was hard to explain but...

  Footsteps interrupted my flow of thoughts and then José sat opposite me with two glassfuls of brown liquid in ice, with a cigar dangling from the corner of his mouth. He slid one glass across the table to me, then picked up his own and held it in the air. I did the same to mine and toasted him.

  “Well, amigo, you sure have had seven kinds of shit kicked out of you, haven’t you?”

  “Feels like ten,” I said, taking a sip from the glass and finding it was in fact spice rum. I took another sip and nodded my head in appreciation.

  We sipped at our glasses neither saying anything while we allowed the silence to fill the space between us.

  José was wearing a sleeveless bomber jacket that showed off his muscular arms; bracelets adorned both his wrists and a tattoo of a German shepherd that looked like it was on steroids graced his shoulder.

  He caught me staring at it and smiled. “The dog breed is called a Kuchi or Afghan shepherd. It was a breed used by the nomadic peoples of that region to protect their caravans and livestock; it always resonated with me.”

  I nodded my head as I studied the tattoo. “Did you always want to do this?”

  “What?”

  “Be an outlaw?”

  The tinted blue glasses he wore stopped me from seeing his eyes but he looked off into the distance while he sipped at his drink. Some time passed and I didn’t think he would answer me, or worse, I had offended him, but he put down his drink and turned my way.

  “I used to be like you. I had a cubicle job that paid me just enough, like some puta, so I could save up and go on pointless vacations and buy shit I didn’t need, but I never made enough to make a difference in my life. I even had a wife. We were trying for a baby but she miscarried and I spent more time trying to fill the gap that grew between us with pointless shit but, as every smart man knows, that never really solves the problem.

  “Until one day my boss said the wrong thing and I just snapped. I then saw everything for what it was, a lie. I didn’t want to believe it; I had lived my entire life trying to be better than my padre, trying to not hate my life as much as he hated his, but in the end, I ended up on the same road travelling towards the same destination.”

  “So breaking the law is the answer to a happy life?” I said with a raised eyebrow.

  He laughed into his drink as he took another sip.

  “The answer to a happy life? I wish I knew the answer; I think many men wish the same. The only thing I can say is, what I do now makes me happy, what I do now gives me freedom. It may not be freedom or happiness to someone else, but it is freedom and happiness to me.

  “I know you see us as monsters, killers, thieves, wild lawless crazy motherfuckers, but there is a beauty in that also. A beauty few men will ever know.”

  I sipped at my drink and watched him as he puffed on his cigar; he enjoyed every pull he took, content in the simple joy of smoking a fine cigar. I finished my meal and leaned back enjoying the comfort of having a full stomach in what felt like an age.

  “After I left you my former boss Gregory captured me. He wanted to know where the data-stick was; he had that asshole who shot up Jerry’s bar do this to me,” I said, gesturing to my body. “I never told him where it was, but certain things happened during my short time as a hostage that have made going back to my old life impossible, I don’t think I can ever live a normal life again—what with Xcorp now wanting me dead so they can tie up any loose ends.”

  José got up from where he sat and walked over to a cupboard in the canteen. He pulled it open and rummaged inside till he pulled out a bottle of spiced rum, then walked back to our table. He topped up my glass and his before toasting me once again.

  “How did that old normal life treat you?” he asked.

  I was about to reply “well”, but it would have been a lie.

  “It treated me like shit if I’m honest. Before they tortured me I found out—” I shook my head and looked off into the distance. “It just sucks knowing everything I thought was true was a lie.”

  “That it does, that it does. But now you have another chance at a new life. This life can be dangerous—there is no pension, retirement is an afterthought and ninety percent of the people you meet will want to kill you—but in exchange, you get a family who will always have your back and a family who will never lie to you.”

  I looked back at him, taken aback, before asking, “Are you offering me a job?”

  He burst into laughter, head tilted back as he slapped the table in front of us. I quickly followed suit not knowing if it was the drink or the very idea that had me in stitches.

  “I think you would have had enough of that for one lifetime, no? No, I’m not offering you a job but a place on the crew. A place to call your home, as one man gave me a very long time ago.”

  I thought over the opportunity he was offering me. On the one hand it sounded like the adventure of a lifetime; on the other, part of me still yearned for my family, a family that wasn’t mine but a family nevertheless.

  “Look, I don’t need an answer right away; just think it over. But there are a few rules we adhere to on this ship.

  “Number one, whatever the crew makes the crew shares, no matter if the job was your idea or not.

  “Number two, no stealing.

  “Number three, no lying.

  “Number four, we all get to vote on decisions that impact the crew.

  “And number five, try and keep your shit clean, but that rule is more of a guideline than anything else.”

  He got up from the table and downed the contents of his glass in one and left me to my thoughts.