Oblivion Girl Read online

Oblivion Girl

  By: Will Novy

  Copyright 2013 Will Novy

  TABLE OF CONTENTS:

  Chapter One: Smile, Goddess of Death

  Chapter Two: Valley of God

  Chapter Three: For Never and Ever

  Chapter Four: King Without A Crown

  Chapter Five: Oblivion Babes

  Chapter Six: Miss Misery Part 1

  Chapter Seven: Miss Misery Part 2

  Chapter Eight: Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

  Chapter Nine: Cloudy with a Chance of Children

  Chapter Ten: Childish Thoughts

  Chapter Eleven: I Think I Can

  Chapter Twelve: Rock, Paper, Scissors

  Chapter Thirteen: Glue Sniffer

  Chapter Fourteen: Oh Brother

  Chapter Fifteen: Yellow Brick Road

  Chapter Sixteen: Scratch and Sniff

  Chapter Seventeen: Bloodhound Pete

  Chapter Eighteen: Faux Friend

  Chapter Nineteen: Marco, Polo

  Chapter Twenty: Yesterday Till Forever

  Chapter Twenty-One: End Of An Era

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Misty Mountains

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Battle Angel Alita

  About The Author

  Chapter One: Smile, Goddess of Death

  The name’s Essa but everyone calls me Oblivion Girl because, rumor has it, I’m the one responsible for destroying an entire city.

  Here’s a question for ya. Have you ever been up for so many days to the point your brain felt like mush? Well, that’s exactly how I felt the day those chauvinistic pigs decided to mess with me.

  Exhausted from a long week’s work, I dragged my feet down a seemingly deserted street. My used and abused black leather boots scrapped along the asphalt, shoelaces whipping at my shins. I’ve been told my clothes catch the attention of the opposite sex but my money’s on the fact it’s my developing body. My dark red skirt and black wife beater matched my black and strawberry colored shoulder length hair yours truly spun into two short pigtails. Black eyeliner lined my face like war paint. I reveled in the fact that I looked fierce before Kung Fu-ing the heads off whoever happened to piss me off that day.

  But of all my lovely accessories, the tattooed angel wings on my back take the cake. People always ask, “Oh, so you think you’re some kind of angel?” Wrong Einstein. Do you see me with bleach blonde hair bouncing around saving drowning puppies from rivers-- I didn’t think so. Each of the feathers represent a person I’ve killed; the only problem was I had to stop adding to it before they ran past my ankles.

  Although I can talk the talk, walking it seemed to be a whole task all onto itself. My small petite frame and lack of muscle didn’t necessarily send men running for their lives-- but that never stopped me from giving them the opportunity.

  So anyways, I’m walking along after a eighteen hour day and as my luck would have it I just had to pass by the only house with a bunch of good for nothing morons who had nothing better to do than ogle at a beautiful woman like myself. I felt my eyes closing shut with every heavy step I took down the sizzling summer street. With my peripherals, I spotted the boys grin on their fat, stupid faces as I walked by. Fuck them. The only useful thing men do is pay for my drinks.

  “Shoes untied,” Mr. Show Off muttered out.

  I stopped in my daze and looked back at him. I knew they were untied. They’re always untied.

  “So what,” I replied.

  “Well, aren’t you going to bend over and tie them?”

  A light wind blew from down the street and shook my skirt. The idiots grinned and chuckled like idiots do around other idiots. Their eyes so tightly locked on my legs I’d need pepper spray just to get ’em to blink.

  “Perverts,” I said trudging away. I didn’t have time to waste on these pigs; I had a bed calling my name with soft cloud-like pillows waiting to whisk me away into lucid bliss.

  “You know,” Mr. Show Off continued, “there’s more than one way to get you to bend over.”

  He stood up as I swung my head around with death in my eyes. Fine, they wanted to risk their lives over an unattainable hottie like myself-- let the games begin.

  “How about I make you lick them,” I said.

  “Huh? I don’t think that’s going to happen, Girlie.”

  Each of the three boys revealed a piece of their side arm hidden under their clothing. I cracked a devilish smile-- cute, men and their toys.

  “You think those are any match for what I got?!” I yelled.

  The men gripped their guns tight, fingers unlocking the safeties as I blurted out, “BEHOLD!”

  I crossed my arms as if to grab pistols in shoulder holsters and whipped out my hands in the shape of guns.

  Without missing a beat I said, “These bad boys will make you piss yourself.”

  I walked up to Mr. Show Off-- the ring leader. I put my index finger up to his forehead and put my thumb down as if I’d ‘pulled the trigger.’

  “Boom,” I whispered.

  The group paused then burst out into laughter. I too laughed out loud with them. Suckers, I thought. Their greasy faces and stained teeth matched their body odor well. I wanted to hose them down like a turd on the bottom of my boot.

  “Girlie, looks like you’re shooting blanks,” Mr. Show Off said.

  Suddenly, a high-pitched whizz shot through the air like a fly buzzing. It passed over my shoulder and hit Mr. Show Off right where I shot him. The bullet split his head like a watermelon. You should’ve seen the look on his face-- you know, before it exploded all over his friends. The group stopped mid-laugh; bodies as white as ghosts. Who could blame them? I just turned their childhood friend into a human piñata.

  “Come on Assholes, who wants some?!” I yelled and started ‘firing’ upon the group.

  My favorite part is making that gun sound with my mouth.

  “Kill this bitch!” the second man yelled.

  And like magic, each time I shot, a bullet would hit exactly where I was aiming. The horn-dogs didn’t have a chance. My adrenaline lasted minutes after they were already sprawled out on the ground bleeding or dead. With smoke filled streets and me without a scratch, it didn’t take a genius to know who the winner was.

  I turned to walk away as one of the wounded men raised his gun and pointed it straight at my back. A final bullet whizzed past me and finished him off. His arm holding the gun plummeted to the ground with a loud clank. I turned around surprised as I smiled and waved high up towards the surrounding rooftops to my partner in crime.

  “Thanks Atticus,” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

  Atticus laid across the rooftop, embarrassed from my yell—- he hated it when I did things like that. Sweat dripped down his forehead onto his tightly gripped sniper rifle perched over the edge. He stood up and followed me along the rooftops. Don’t let his glasses and calm demeanor fool you. Even though he looked like a bookworm, Atticus was the most cold-blooded killer I’ve ever encountered-- except for myself obviously.

  ***

  Fast asleep in bed, the city drifted from day to night. Streetlights flickered on and the air turned cold and crisp. I was having that dream again. Flying. I hate flying.

  Freefalling down towards the earth I felt the cold air cut through my clothes and chill my body. I swung my arms wildly in the air trying to grab a hold of something-- anything. My eyes shut tight as I passed through a cool moist cloud. I slowly opened them to see the city lights illuminate the surface of the dark earth. I’m high up in the atmosphere. My pink teddy bear pajamas flap uncontrollably in the wind. I extend my arms and legs to slow my descent. I close my eyes as I, yet again, cut through another cloud-- nothing better than cold damp clothes sticking to your
body.

  When I emerge through the other side of the cloud and open my eyes I realized how much the city lights sparkle like stars. I looked behind me to what should’ve been the sky only to see an outline of a planet. That’s when I noticed I wasn’t falling towards earth; I was flying up toward the stars.

  The wind died down and faded to an uneasy quiet. I ascend past the atmosphere and glide into the darkness of space. The higher I got, the more the stars shined in multiple radiant colors. Captivated, a smell crept into my nostrils.

  “French toast?” Why did space smell so delicious?

  I woke up and found myself sprawled out on my bed in the position I had been freefalling in. I opened my eyes to my solar system lamp perched on my nightstand. In my comfy oversized t-shirt and sweatpants I sat up and wiped the sleep from my face. I loved sleep as much as the next girl but food was always number one in my heart.

  Atticus was a lot of things to me but never a chef. He loved to cook though and even after all the failed attempts; let’s just say I was curious to find out how long it’d take to get a decent meal out of him.

  I emerged from the hall still wearing my pajamas and boots with no socks. Atticus was slaving away at the stove in an apron. I sat at the table still half asleep; in front of me sat Atticus’ questionable stack of French toast. I didn’t touch it. I remembered last time.

  “I didn’t add veggies into the batter this time,” he said.

  I lifted up a piece and carefully inspected it. “And they’re not burnt either,” he added.

  “Uh huh,” I replied as I eyed him and let go of the stack.

  He was determined to get it right even if it killed me-- and with the ingredients he used, it probably would.

  “Um, where’s the syrup?” I asked.

  He paused a moment. He had forgotten the key ingredient.

  Defeated he muttered, “Buttersworth.”

  I stood up, took both plates off the table and dumped them in the garbage.

  “Looks like we are eating out again!” I exclaimed.

  “Hey, we could’ve still eaten those!”

  “I’ll go get dressed,” I said and skipped back to my room.

  I was so excited I accidently slammed my bedroom door. Atticus walked next to the trash. His eyes stared off absently at his Frankenstein French Toast.

  “Damn it,” he muttered as he put the lid over the garbage.

  ***

  Eating at restaurants meant I always got to eat my favorite food and when you get to eat your favorite food at the start of your day, it’s usually a great day.

  “I LOVE strawberries,” I said to Atticus as we both walked down the street. “That was so good!”

  “Yes, you always order the same thing for breakfast no matter where we go. Pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream.”

  Atticus’ stomach growled.

  “I just wish you’d let me finish my meal before getting us kicked out.”

  “I can’t help it if that perverted waiter kept trying to hit on me!”

  “I only got to take two bites.”

  I turned to him with the pouty face I had mastered through my years of being a professional manipulator.

  “I only broke his arm in two places this time,” I said.

  “Let’s just go see Kial.”

  My pout disappeared. Atticus and I had known Kial for only half a year but he was the balance in our lives we so desperately needed. Plus he gave me presents each time I visited. How can you not like a guy who always gives you presents?

  ***

  I leaned on Kial’s desk with my trademark pouty face. Behind me, Atticus was on the couch eating an apple.

  “What do you mean no presents,” I exclaimed while pounding my fists on his desk. “You ALWAYS have presents!”

  There was a pause of silence. I turned to Atticus for reinforcement.

  “A little help here?”

  Atticus took his time and chewed the piece of apple in his mouth before speaking.

  “No,” he said and went back to devouring his apple. That was it. Time to unleash the beast. I turned back to Kial and showed him my threatening fist.

  “You have a death wish or something little man,” I yelled.

  On the other side of the desk was Kial, a ten-year-old frizzy haired little kid who tinkered with a half fixed computer.

  “I don’t have the present,” Kial said calmly and well composed, “because it’s sitting next to Atticus.”

  I whipped my head around. Atticus took time out of his meal and looked down. There, just waiting for me, was a beautiful old gas mask. I ran, jumped in the air over the coffee table and landed on the couch. Atticus bounced up and down from the aftershock.

  “OOoooOoh! What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s a World War II gas mask,” Kial said. “Its purpose was to protect the user from harmful chemicals in the air. I also have some unused tear gas canisters in the drawer near the window. You’re welcome to take them all if you want.”

  Before he was even done with his sentence I had already opened the drawer and was stunned to see it overfilled with tear gas cans. My eyes sparkled at the buried treasure I had just discovered.

  “Shinies! Where did you find these?” I asked.

  “They’re payment for an easy hack job I did for a client. He said they were valuable but when I had them appraised, they weren’t worth more than the metal used to make them. So I kept them, opened a credit card in his name and wired over the money owed.”

  I put on the gas mask and explored the canisters.

  “Naturally I split the cash up into tiny amounts, he blamed someone else and here we are,” Kial said.

  “Brilliant,” Atticus added.

  Kial gave Atticus a weird look.

  “Where you expecting anything less?” he asked. Atticus took a large bite out of his apple. Kial smiled. He liked pushing around the adults-- the more dangerous, the better.

  “So I take it since you both are here, you need a new job,” Kial asked.

  I turned around, a canister gripped in my hand.

  “Yeah, the last one was too easy.”

  “Which you left uncompleted.” Kial said.

  I shrugged.

  “Things have started to slow down here, you know… holidays and all,” Kial said.

  “It’s spring-,” Atticus began.

  “-So, being in the holiday spirit,” Kial interrupted, “I do have one you both can sink your teeth into.”

  Personally, I could care less about the business talk. I left that to Kial and Atticus. Just point me in the right direction of who to kill—- everything else was pointless. Plus, I think I just found an extra bonus in the canister drawer.

  Atticus walked over to Kial.

  “So what is it?” he asked.

  “A bounty hunter group of fifteen.” replied Kial.

  Kial pushed a paper across his desk to Atticus.

  “Six days ago they took a delivery job and are one day away from the drop off.”

  “Doesn’t give us a lot of time.”

  “That’s why our contractor agreed to let us use any means necessary to get the job done.”

  “How far is the drop zone?” Atticus said.

  Kial put down his tools and pointed at a huge wall map behind his chair.

  “Two cities east. A small town called The Valley of God. It’s tucked away in the hillside.”

  Atticus walked closer to the map. He had a memory that was outstanding and he used it to memorize roads and potential exits. Me, I created exits—- along with reasons why we needed exits.

  “The item is a small black leather box with silver writing,” Kial said.

  “I just hope they have weapons,” I replied.

  Kial and Atticus turned around to see me with my gas mask on, two canister holsters across my chest and a tear gas in each hand.

  “Cause they’ll need them.”

  My stance was goofy; feet p
ointed slightly inward toward each other. I giggled with excitement. I knew today was a good day.

  Chapter Two: Valley of God

  The Valley of God was a lush city overflowing with vegetation, etched into a mountainside—- a picture perfect place if you were smuggling drugs or retiring. A waterfall fell from the top of the mountain peak down into the city and supplied it with fresh drinking water before zigzagging its way out into the ocean. I took in a lung full of fresh air and almost gagged. It was awful compared to the smog that hovered over our town. Even though for decades the military has made it illegal to own a car, that doesn’t mean Mother Nature has forgiven us. Pollution still lingers around our town due to the high number of military vehicles that patrol through—- like they ever do anything useful.

  I turned to Atticus who was in a bad mood-- he hated traveling. It reminded him of how stuck with me he really was. With his sad, mopey look down at me he said, “Can’t you at least TRY to be a little more discreet? We’re trying to blend in, remember?”

  I had the gas mask resting on my head and the tear gas belts still draped around my chest. To put it lightly, fuckers were staring.

  “No way,” I told him. “It’s intimidating.”

  “It’s embarrassing.”

  “Deal with it cause I ain’t taking them off!”

  “You don’t even know if those things work!”

  I shot Atticus a look that let him know he was no longer on my good side today.

  “Let’s just find this place so we can-,” he was interrupted.

  “-Hey you,” an old man called out behind us.

  “Crap,” Atticus sputtered out.

  We turned around to an old man in a dirty flannel t-shirt-- flannel, really?

  “What do you want old man,” I asked. He had one of those beards that was all white except around the mouth where food had permanently stained it yellow—- I like to call it the ‘piss in the snow’ look.

  “Not you, HIM!”

  He pointed at Atticus. I was beside myself. I was so use to creepy old men hitting on me but this time it wasn’t about me. I was a bit thrown off.

  “Me?” Atticus asked.

  I could tell by the weirded out look on his face, Atticus was thinking the same thing.

  “Yeah! What the hell do you think your doing letting your daughter go out dressed like a freak? She looks ridiculous!”

  I stood corrected. I could feel my hands tighten into fists as my eye twitched uncontrollably—- I was unaware this guy had some sort of death wish. Atticus looked down at me with fear in his eyes. He didn’t want to see the bloody stump of a man I would leave behind.