Mercy sat wedged in the corner of the parking deck’s upper level. The bright autumn sun warmed her fur as the wind blew through her dreads and tickled her ears. A faint smell of the sea water drifted into her nostrils as she looked at the knuckles of her left hand. It felt like she had bruised it. She hadn’t looked at Reggie since coming to and realizing what she had done while she was blacked out.

Glancing toward her, Mercy could see Reggie was looking through her well loved binoculars toward the area where the two men had been left. She was a few meters away to get the best view and the rifle case was on the other side of her with a pair of handcuffs locking it shut. Reggie’s body was tense and her fur stood on end. Mercy noticed her focus was disrupted for a moment.

“I guess good news for you. That detective guy is fine waiting till we’re done.” She spoke in a low voice, clearly holding back her anger. Reggie lowered the binoculars and turned toward her. Her right eye now had bright red spots along the side that Mercy had hit. Mercy looked away.

“Reggie, I’m sorry…”

“I don’t care that you’re sorry.” Reggie was quick to cut her off. “You are not the first person to hit me, and you probably won’t be the last, but I usually know why someone hit me. Right now, I have no clue why you just did that.” She waited for Mercy to respond.

This is going worse than I thought it could.

“Not gonna say why?”

“…” Mercy rubbed her knuckles.

“You realize that you could have gotten Sasha hurt, or worse, right?!” Mercy looked up to the holographic bird perch on some rubble near her. Although it wasn’t a real creature, its gaze was intense. Perhaps Sasha was watching her right now.

I have to say something, but what if they fire me or have me locked up?

“Are you in lala-land again!?” Mercy was startled when she realized Reggie was standing right in front of her. Reggie firmly placed a hand on her forehead and pushed so they were face-to-face. Mercy could clearly make out the network of blood vessels between each splotch of her injured eye. “Henry is willing to let you stay on while we deal with this legion, but here’s a question: what would you do if your new recruit acted like you’ve been?” Mercy looked down to break eye contact. “Well?”

“I… I would kick them off the team.” Reggie exhaled through her nose and removed her hand.

“Are you just saying that because that’s what you’re expecting us to do? Or do you think that’ll make me happy hearing you say that?”

“…” Mercy wrapped her hands around her legs, pulling them in tight. Reggie crossed her arms.

“You have nothing to say? Why?”

“…” Reggie sighed again, letting it linger in the breeze.

“Alright, maybe I’m being a bit…aggressive right now, but I don’t like people hitting me in the face.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know you did, but the part that’s aggravating me isn’t that you hit me. It’s that you won’t say why. Like, are you more worried about me knowing why it happened?” 

“…”

“…”

“…” 

“Look, Henry already mentioned to me you might have some kind of PTSD from being a child soldier. If that’s what you’re so afraid of talking about, then fine, I get it, but right now, a person’s life depends on us and our lives depend on each other. I don’t want to put their life or ours into the hands of someone who can’t or won’t tell me what’s happening to them.”

“…”

“…” A bird squawked in the distance.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Mercy combed her fingers through her dreads. “Maybe it’s PTSD or something else, but I don’t know what it is.”

“You tried getting help?” 

“I don’t have anything to get help with.” She looked down at her shoes. A generic brand of sneaker with stitching and adhesive so beyond their limits that it was a miracle that they didn’t fall apart when she ran earlier. She could feel the small hole just below her sole. “I don’t have anything.” Her throat closed up. “All my clothes I either found in dumpsters or people lost them. These work clothes are the nicest thing I’ve worn in god knows how long.” Mercy remembered the way the person at the front desk and Gerald had grimaced when she got near them. Her eyes began to water. “I usually don’t have the water to bathe, but I didn’t want to get these dirty, so I took a shower at the office, and…” She felt a shiver down her spine as her voice cracked. “I realized I didn’t remember the last time I had warm water to clean with.” 

Mercy tried to keep talking, but her throat wouldn’t let the words out, and the more she forced it, the more tears started pouring. Her body began to tremble and she felt herself growing hot. She wanted to disappear, curling in on herself, trying to collapse inward like a black hole. Her knees helped obscure her eyes so she didn’t have to see Reggie or Sasha’s bird looking at her. There was nothing she hated more than having people stare at her. 

Reggie didn’t speak, but Mercy heard her sit down beside her. The two of them sat quietly as the sun poured down on them. Mercy could hear gunshots far off in the distance and it reminded her of her time in Montreal. The ruined skylines etched in her mind from her various nests. Through her scopes she watched so much carnage on the streets, she helped cause some, but it always felt so far away. Everything felt so flat here; so close together.

“I know what you’re going to ask.” Mercy heard Reggie turn to her. “Why would I do this? Why would I do something that’s so similar to what messed me up to begin with?” She lifted her head enough to see over her knees. “Because it’s all I know. I don’t really have any other skills, but more than that…” She turned to Reggie who was studying her. “I feel good when I hold a rifle. Everything feels right as long as I have a finger on the trigger and a target in my scope.” Reggie had a good poker face, but her eyes gave away enough. “I’m a bad person, aren’t I?” Reggie snorted but managed to catch herself. Mercy wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Sorry, sorry.” Reggie waved her hand as she composed herself. “I don’t mean to laugh while you’re spilling your heart out, but that last little bit threw me off.” She took a deep breath and regained her composure. “Look, I don’t know you well enough to say if you’re good or bad, but my gut says I’ve been around worse.” She maneuvered herself so she could more easily lift her shirt. Across her abdomen was a thin section of missing fur. “Know what that is?”

“It’s a scar?”

“Yep. From a hysterectomy I underwent when I was 11.”

“Were you sick?”

“That’s what I thought, but it turns out my parents lied to me. Sold it to some corpos that moved here. They OD’d on the drugs they bought with that money while I was recovering.” Mercy stared at Reggie in disbelief.

Is she being serious?! How could she say that so nonchalantly?

“And that’s a good sign you’re not a bad person.” She smiled.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because Henry looked at me the same way when I told him.” Mercy was at a loss for words. Reggie tucked her shirt back in and stood up. The two of them locked eyes as she stood there. “If you’re wondering what my criteria is for being a good person, I don’t have a good answer. I’m not sure I’d call myself a good person. I mean, I literally catch and incarcerate folks for a living. Had to kill some people too.” Her eyes fell to the ground. “Henry would probably say the same for himself, but it doesn’t sit right with me to say he’s bad.” Mercy watched Reggie lean over and put a hand on her shoulder. “As for bad, well… that’s complicated too. One thing I’d say they have in common is that they don’t really care about if they’ve done the wrong things. Bad people don’t ever look haunted. Good people always have a parade of ghosts following them.” She gave a few pats. “So, you haunted or not?”

The two of them lingered in that moment. Mercy looked down at her sore knuckles. While pondering what to say, she felt Reggie’s body tense up again. Cursing and muttering, she ran to the opposite side of the parking deck. Pulling out her binoculars, she pulled herself on top of a concrete wall and began scanning the streets, her head darting back and forth like a bird of prey. Lowering the binoculars, she brought her thumb and middle finger to her mouth, letting loose a piercing whistle. The holographic bird took off and perched on the concrete wall beside her. She spoke to it and motioned in the direction she had been searching, but Mercy couldn’t hear anything she said. When she finished, the bird took off, flapping its wings with great force to quickly rise through the air. Reggie turned around and headed for the rifle case and her shotgun.

Quickly slinging the shotgun over her shoulder, Reggie paused as she reached for the case. Mercy watched as she mulled over what to do with it before turning to look back at her. She sighed and lifted the case, causing the handcuffs on it to jingle. She walked back to Mercy, the rifle case towering over her.

“The group lost Patricia and the legion. She thinks she can get the legion to stop and ran off because Henry tried to stop her.” Reggie looked down at the case. “I caught a glimpse of her and I’m going to chase with birdie, but…” Mercy watched her hold out the case toward her. “…this is going to be a pain to carry. So, would you be willing to come with and hold onto it?” The two of them locked eyes. Mercy could see the real question she was being asked.

Can she trust me?

Mercy looked at her knuckles again, took a deep breath and got to her feet. “I guess it would be the least I could do.” She began to reach for the case but stopped.

Can I trust myself or whoever the hell shows up?

Mercy looked into Reggie’s eyes once again and grabbed the handle, squeezing it enough to make it creak.

“I’ve got this.” Reggie studied her before she released her grip on the case. There was a click and Mercy watched her remove the handcuffs.

“Good, cus it’s time to go.”