Dry Tears

"Have you seen this girl?" A dry wind sweeps into the tavern from the arid area outside as one of two men at the bar question the barkeep. The tavern's dreary atmosphere is disturbed only by the blinding sun shining through cracks in the ceiling. The bartender looks up from his stand at the most well-preserved item in the bar: a silver heart-shaped locket. The locket is opened to show the contents to those opposite its bearer. The bartender inspects the item further. There is a picture of a young girl, no older than twelve, with caramel skin, brown eyes, and braided ponytails wearing a rose-colored dress.

"Nope. Can't say I have. Haven't seen a little girl around here in years.", he explains. " Why are you two on the prowl for a lil' girl anyways?" The second man steps up to the bar. "It's none of your concern, you nosy rube!", he exclaims, visibly annoyed. The first man holds his free arm in front of the second man. "I'm sorry about my partner here. We've been searching for days and the trail goes cold here." He pulls three copper wires from the pocket of his worn pants and places them on the bar. " For your troubles. If you happen to remember anything about our query, I'm Jackson and this is Crutcher. We'll be at the local inn for the next few days.", he turns to walk out of the rotting building. "Wait! I might know a thing or two. Maybe an area you two mighta missed.", the barkeep points toward the east. "About half a mile east of town, there's an old man livin' in one of the abandoned houses 'round them parts.", he admits.

Jackson turns around to look at the barkeep and smiles. "Thank you for your cooperation. That copper is worth two gallons of water. Don't spend it all in one place.", he explains. "And Old Man," Crutcher interjects, showing a pistol on his waist, "Don't let anyone know we were, I'd hate to have to come back here." "I ain't seen nothin'", the barkeep says. "Crutcher, let's go.", Jackson says. The two men raise their face coverings from their neck onto their nose and mouth walk out of the bar into the scorching sun.

The duo begins their journey east. "That's how you get information from a target, my friend. Wet his beak a little.", Jackson explains. "What?!? I definitely intimidated him into dropping that info.", Crutcher exclaims. "Well, anyway, we can't screw this up. Mr. Wright will not be pleased.", Jackson says. "Yeah, he made a real big fuss about this job, eh? Wonder why it's so important to him.", Crutcher asks. Jackson pulls the locket from his pocket "The girl looks rich. That dress probably cost more than me and you make in a year She's probably very valuable." " Oh yeah. Now that you mention it, he did say she was 'very important' to him. Maybe it's a ransom thing", Crutcher suggests. "I have no clue. But then again, Wright doesn't seem like the type. He seems too 'kind-hearted' to do something like that. I'm sure he's got the girl's best interest in mind", Jackson explains. "As long as I'm gettin' paid, I don't give a damn.", Crutcher says. The two continue their journey to the East, a stirring cloud of dust and a cloudless sky their only companions.

"How can I help you gentlemen?" The two men are on the porch of a run-down shack. An old black man with greying hair has opened the front door to greet his guests Jackson pulls the locket from his pocket in the same fashion as he did at the bar. "We're looking for this girl and seeing as how yours is the last occupied house for miles, we figured you may know something.", Jackson says. The old man squints at the locket. "I'm sorry, I can't see very well at my age. You boys come on inside. The dust is getting bad out there."

The two follow the old man into his house. "Sit. sit. I need to go find my glasses if I'm going to help you." The two sit on s badly damaged leather couch in the main den of the withering house. "Thank you.", Jackson says. The old man walks into a backroom and begins shifting items around in search of his glasses. "I'm not sure about this one.", Crutcher whispers. "What do you mean? He seems relatively harmless." Jackson whispers back.

Before Crutcher can answer, the ear-splitting crack of a shotgun sounds from the room the old man went into. The pellets narrowly miss the duo and instead strike the wall behind them. They both jump from the couch, take cover behind the other decaying furniture, and brandish their own firearms tucked in their clothes. "You think I'd let you take my little girl?!?," the old man shouts. He fires multiple shots in the direction of Crutcher and Jackson, tearing more holes in the wall than there already were. "Crutcher, what are we gonna do!?!", Jackson asks, his professional demeanor fading under the impending danger. "He can't keep shooting forever! Wait 'till he's reloading then charge him!", Crutcher answers.

"I know you slaver types! Ever since that damn meteor hit all you scum do is steal people's children! I'm sick of it!", the old man exclaims, firing more shots in the process, each getting closer to the intended target. He reaches for a box of shotgun shells on the counter next to him. Crutcher hears the fumbling and leaves his cover. He bursts into the next room and shoots his revolver at the old man, hitting him in his knee cap. The old man falls and Crutcher sits on his chest and points the gun in his face. "Where's the girl, you old bastard?!", he asks angrily. The old man spits in Crutcher's face. "Go to hell!", he exclaims. Crutcher slaps the old man in the face with his pistol. "Where is she? I'm not gonna ask again!" He primes his revolver for another shot. “I’d rather die than let you have my little girl!" Jackson runs into the room, his machine pistol in his right hand. "Don't kill him before we have the girl!", he says. "Go look for her, she can't be far. This one isn't very talkative.", Crutcher answers.

Jackson begins searching the house. He runs down a hallway and lands in the kitchen and dining room area. There is more withering furniture but one item in particular catches his attention. There is a working refrigerator in the kitchen with a digital combination lock on it. "Wow, this must be some pre-crash stuff", Jackson mutters to himself. As he observes the refrigerator, he hears muffled sobbing over the mechanical hum. He presses his ear to the door of the fridge. "Crutcher! She's in here! There's a code on the door, though!", he calls.

"Make this easier on yourself. What's the code?", Crutcher asks. "I don-", before the old man can finish, Crutcher fires a shot into his forehead, killing him. "Stupid bastard. Shoulda just told me what I wanted to know.", Crutcher says. He begins probing the pockets on the old man's flannel shirt. He finds a piece of scratch paper in the right breast pocket. The paper holds a list entitled "Utmost Importance" with the birthday of a "Jayla", the code to the fridge, and the location of important household items. "Try 1138!", he yells to Jackson in the other room.

Jackson inputs the code and the lock's keys flash green. He opens the door and finds the girl whose picture is in the locket. She screams in fear. "Hold on, girl. I'm not here to hurt you," he says in a soft tone. He pulls the heart-shaped locket from his pocket and shows her. "A man who wants to see you very much gave me this. He sent us to bring you to him. We're your friends.", he reassures her. The girl calms down. Jackson holds his hand out to her and she slowly takes it. He pulls her out of the refrigerator and walks her to the main den. Crutcher joins them, his face covered in blood. "What happened to Grandad?", the girl asks. "That was your grandfather?", Jackson asks, surprised. "He had to go out on an errand," Crutcher interjects as he wipes his face on his sleeve "We don't know when he'll be back." "In the meantime, we'll take you somewhere safe until he returns", Jackson explains.

Jackson makes sure to shield the girl from the old man's corpse as they leave the house. The three head West and pass through the town on the way back to Mr. Wright. They pass numerous ruined buildings and scorched plains as they make their way back to their boss. After about three hours in the sweltering heat, they reach Mr. Wright's residence. He lives in a two-story home that seems to have been missed by the meteor strike and its effects. A black man in a clean suit walks out of the house.

"My baby! You're finally home," he exclaims as he goes to hug the young girl. The girl does not hug him back, however. "Who are you?", she asks, confused. "Why, I'm your father, Jayla. You don't remember me?" "My daddy died when the meteor hit. My grandad told me.", she answers. "That man was not your grandfather, Jayla. He stole you from me two years ago, and I've been searching for you ever since.", Mr. Wright explains, tears in his eyes. “But you're home now, baby girl, and daddy's going to protect you. Men!", he calls towards the house and two men in clean suits come out. "Take my daughter here to my room so I can undo whatever spell that monster placed on her." The two men take Jayla into the house and close the door behind them.

"That's some real brainwashing stuff there, man", Crutcher says. "I know, there's a long road ahead of us now to get her back to normal, but I thank you both for helping us take the first step.", Mr. Wright says. "It was a pleasure, Mr. Wright. Now I don't feel bad that we killed that old bastard.", Jackson states. "He deserved far worse than anything you could have given him, I'm afraid. He broke into our house and stole her two years ago. Lord only knows what he was doing to her during that time." He reaches into his suit and pulls out a cluster of copper wires. "Here's your payment, plus a little extra for a job well done. There'll be more work for you in the future if you keep this standard."

"Thanks", Crutcher says. He takes the wires and hands them to Jackson. "Good luck with your daughter. Until next time.", Jackson says. The two turn and leave the Wright residence. "You see? I knew he was a good man. It was his daughter the whole time." Jackson says. "Yeah, whatever. let's go get a drink!", Crutcher says. The two fade from in front of the house.

Mr. Wright enters his house and closes the door behind him. He looks up towards his room and puts on a smile. He then lets out a maniacal laugh. "Oh boy! That was too easy!", he exclaims. He walks up the stairs. "I've paid good money for you, girl! You'd better be worth it!" He enters his room and within a few seconds, Jayla begins screaming, only for no one to hear her.

Jackson and Crutcher share drinks at the same tavern they searched earlier that day, not knowing the horrible fate they left Jayla to, and oblivious to the needless murder they had committed.