Acid Reign : Genesis
Chapter 17: Kurth

The West Market area was off-limits to the citizens of Nucrea. Only very limited and heavily- supervised access was allowed, and that was only granted to the few scientists or industry leaders in the Council; even runners weren’t allowed. There have been many speculations as to why it was forbidden, the physical dangers were obvious, but there was also the growing suspicion that out there was something the Council didn’t want anyone to see.

The West Market wasn’t ever an actual market. It had been named that, early in the survival years, as part of a plan to restore the area. Huge craters, where bombs exploded long ago and deep fissures were scattered throughout the crumbled buildings and upturned streets. Most of the buildings and structures were beyond repair, and uninhabitable. Nothing grew, water turned poisonous on its own overnight. The ground was unstable and seemed to be devouring the city from below.

Here, the aftermath of a war fought over a century ago, was perfectly preserved. Every bomb crater, every burned building, and every bullet hole was still there, frozen in time. The destruction served as a reminder that a once powerful world had been reduced to nothing, because of the greed of a few.

The Council had given up on its restoration and attempts to settle the area. Plus Runners had cleaned out the area of anything useful long ago. There had only been a few short-lived industrial efforts and a prison, which, despite an enormous amount of materials and labor, remained unused. Mostly.

Kurth had always felt the area’s destructive power calling to him. As children, he and Chul had regularly escaped their wards and hungrily explored the seemingly endless playground of destruction.

He had plenty of minor injuries to remind him of broken walls and falling ceilings. There was one memory that stood out among the rest; the day that he and his brother had found a body. It was under a large metallic shield jammed into the ground, most likely as a result of an explosion. They struggled for an hour trying to pry it up thinking that there was some treasure buried beneath it.

Finally, they were able to use their weight and a lever to lift one of the corners enough to slide under. Kurth turned on his light and squeezed through the space.

“I don’t feel good about this, Kurth,” Chul said, sheepishly.

“Stop being such a baby. C’mon, I think I see something.”

Chul looked back to check the lever one more time, and after seeing how solid it was, slipped into the dark hole. His eyes took a moment to adjust, but once they did, it was like they had traveled back through time.

There in front of them, illuminated by Kurth’s hand light, was the front portion of an ROK military transport. Kurth let his light reveal the scene slowly. The transport should have been a heap of twisted, rusted metal, but even the paint looked fresh. The metal reflected the light back at them as Kurth panned over the bullet-riddled frame. Kurth froze; pinned beneath the right front wheel well was a partly-clothed skeleton.

Chul gasped and scrambled back towards the hole, but Kurth wasn’t afraid.

“It’s dead. Stop freaking out.”

Chul wanted to run, but stayed because even though he was terrified, he trusted his brother. There was no way he was getting closer, but Kurth, on the other hand, went right over to the body, knelt down, and grabbed one of the hands.

“Don’t touch it!”

Kurth looked back at his younger brother with a grin, broke one of the fingers, and put it in his pocket.

The wind moaned and howled as it lashed its way through the broken structures of the West Market. A dim light shone through a crack in a wall, breaking through the darkness, giving life to a small building.

Inside, a masked Nucrean Elite leaned casually against a cement wall, while another Elite stood facing outward, gun ready, and guarded the only door in the room. Two small work lights, hanging from the ceiling, cast shadows and illuminated the dust that saturated the air.

A Runner stared at the symbols littering the bone pendant that hung from Kurth’s neck. He wasn’t tied down, but the young scavenger was motionless in his chair. Kurth had that effect on people, especially when they were being questioned. The man was dirty and carried a stench of poor hygiene and treason.

“Where does the information for each contract come from?” Kurth asked, staring closely at the man.

“The bosses put the contract information out and decide who runs it, or they just issue an open contract.”

Kurth closed his eyes and suppressed growing irritation, knowing his questions needed to be more specific.

“I am aware of how your process works. Where do the Market Bosses get their information?”

“Don’t know that.”

“So you have no idea? You simply just go out there and bring back whatever it is the ‘bosses’ ask for.”

“Well, sometimes what’s in the contract ain’t there, but if you bring back something useful you get paid. Look. I ain’t supposed to be talking to you at all about what we do. I just heard you were paying for information about runners.”

“Forgive me for straying,” Kurth said, barely holding back his disgust. Kurth set a holodisk on the table, activated an area grid, and zoomed in. “Does this area look like a recent contract location?”

The runner leaned forward, squinting as he looked over the map, then sat back.

“Yeah we have our own maps though,” he said realizing he should have left that information out.

“Who took the contract?”

With that question, the runner became uneasy. He knew the area on the map was too far out for most runners and that there were only a few that would have taken that contract. Five thousand credits was enough to forget about being a traitor in general, but talking about Ripp or Tooth was different. In any normal situation, this would be where the line was drawn and you would shut your mouth regardless of any consequences.

“When do I get paid?”

“Well, I am paying for information. So whenever you actually give me information.” Kurth’s irritation was becoming more obvious.

“Alright.”

The Runner, sweating now, slowly pulled out his own holodisk and activated it. The maps were similar, but there was much more information on the Runner’s map. His display included temperatures, wind readings, elevation, and radiation levels. The display also labeled areas as blocked or green. These colors and areas all showed contracts and which ones were open, who was assigned to each, who was in the area and who wasn’t yet. It also showed Runners who were traveling to or from the markers. Kurth was rarely impressed, but he wanted that holodisk.

The Runner scrolled past blacked-out areas, and, comparing the map that Kurth had with his own, located the same area. He entered a command and Ripp’s name came up with information about the area.

“That’s who you’re looking for,” he said as if he had just confessed to killing his own mother.

Kurth zoomed in on the contract and Ripp’s profile came up. “Who is Ripp?”

“You don’t know much, do you?”

The Runner foolishly snickered at Kurth’s ignorance, and then caught himself as he saw the malice growing in Kurth’s expression.

“What I mean is, you don’t know much about Nun and his pet and the world out there, that’s what I meant. No disrespect.” He knew that he might have crossed a line he couldn’t uncross with Kurth.

Kurth stared at the man. “Pretty arrogant for someone surrounded by guns. I respect that. You’re right though, my world is different and I don’t know much about yours. Here in this room is my world though, and this is the only one that matters right now.”

“Ripp,” the Runner blurted out attempting to change the feeling of the room.

“Nun gave the contract to Ripp. He was there alone. He is the only one that will go out that far. He’s Nun’s pet. That’s who you are looking for. That’s who Ripp is, and judging by your interest he must have done something pretty bad.”

“Show me where his next contract is.”

“Can’t see it until it’s been issued. Never takes long though. Usually has a new one every couple of days. I gave you what you needed, Sir.” The Runner looked around the room. “That’s all I can tell you, can I be paid now?”

Kurth walked over to him and put his arm around his nervous shoulders. “I think so. You’ve been very helpful.”

Kurth stood up and put his hands in his pockets.

“Sim?” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Sir?” Sim acknowledged with a smile.

“Please pay the man.”

“Th...thank you sir. Thank you,” the runner said with a huge sigh of relief.

The Runner turned back to the table remembering to grab his holodisk.

The gunshot shook the small room. Blood and brain matter painted the table and the wall as the Runner’s body hit the ground.

Kurth holstered his pistol and wiggled a finger in his ear as he squinted, trying to stop the ringing. As he reached for the Runner’s holodisk the display started to short and the device self-destructed.

He looked at the body and then at the fried holodisk and laughed as he realized that the self-destruction was triggered with the end of the Runner’s vitals.

“Well, shit, that was clever.”

Kurth blew out a sigh.

“This Ripp is our guy. I want the right team on him now. Have them follow him out on his next job. Make it look like he was overtaken by Fringers or something believable, and if it’s far enough outside the city, I don’t care how it happens.”

“Sir!”

Kurth and his team walked out of the abandoned building and into a broken street that lead towards Nucrea. The West Market was darker than ever.

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