Christmas in Zonei Pt. 01

"Come on," he urged. When he saw Raeden start to follow, taking the steps slowly and leaning heavily on the railing, he continued up the stairs. As he passed the door to the second floor the smell of cooking assailed him. Tortillas, he guessed. His mouth flooded with saliva—he was starving.

He glanced down at the big man struggling to follow him up the stairs. I wonder if I'll have to feed him. He didn't have much food left.

"Where we going?" the man slurred again, finally reaching the second floor landing. On the third floor landing he bellowed loudly, "Where the fuck's the booze?"

"Shhh!" Kim hissed, horrified. "Don't alert the neighbors. They'll call security and have you thrown out." Then they'll have me thrown out for bringing you in here.

On the fourth floor Kim held open the door to the hallway and waited patiently for Raeden to climb the last flight. Once on the landing Raeden paused, swaying dangerously, then he abruptly leaned over and vomited his last meal onto the floor. When the stench hit Kim's nostrils, he tried not to gag. Ugh! I'm going to have to clean that up.

When Raeden appeared to be done, Kim urged, "This way." He led him down a dimly lit hallway. The worn beige carpet was heavily stained and the walls were badly in need of a fresh coat of paint. The familiar smell of chlorine bleach reached him—one of his neighbors was obsessively clean and spent every waking hour scouring her apartment with noxious chemicals.

Kim sighed. At least his unit didn't smell like chlorine. He eyed the man who was following him with distaste. Now it's going to smell like barf and piss. But it's only for one night, he reminded himself. Tomorrow I'll send him on his way.

He reached the heavy steel door of his unit and hesitated. Looking at the size of the man he had brought home, his heart leapt into his throat and began pounding for all it was worth. What the hell am I doing? This man could break me in two with his little finger. Kim, at barely one and a half meters tall, guessed that Raeden weighed more than twice what he did.

The big man stopped next to Kim, looking at him speculatively, his eyes more focused than they had been. He sniffed the air and grinned wolfishly.

Kim shivered and this time he was sure it wasn't just from the cold. That grin was decidedly predatory and Kim felt very much like a rabbit inviting a fox into his hole. Panic rose in his chest. He took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow.

"Are you afraid I'll rob you blind?" Raeden asked.

"N ... no. I don't have much to steal."

"You're afraid I'll hurt you then ... maybe rape you?"

Kim bit back the whimper of terror that threatened to come out of his mouth as unwanted memories surfaced. That was exactly his fear.

Raeden barked out a short, bitter laugh. "Don't worry. I'm not capable. Not anymore."

What the hell does he mean by that? I don't imagine he's capable right now, no, but when he sobers up...? Kim turned back to his door in an effort to hide his fear. He knew every emotion would show on his face. What he didn't know was that Raeden could smell his terror and hear his elevated heart rate.

I either need to kick him outside or let him in. I guess I've already made my decision.

He placed his bare hand on the small scanner next to the door and the locking mechanism whirred. As he swung open his door, relief for having made it this far without encountering any of his neighbors was quickly squelched by the fear of letting a dangerous stranger into his home.

Chapter Two

Kim fumbled by feel to his lamp and switched it on, lighting the room in a warm glow.

Raeden staggered past him, heading for the futon on the floor, but Kim grabbed his arm and pointed him toward the bathroom. "You can get cleaned up in there."

The owners of the building hadn't bothered to convert the hotel rooms into actual apartments, so the unit consisted of one large room, a closet and a bathroom. Kim had lived at The Shangri-La all his life. His parents had divided the main room into two rooms by hanging large, thick drapes across the middle. During the winter he only used the side closest to the door; the area near the windows was too cold. The bathroom had the luxury of full plumbing—only cold water, of course, but it was more than most Zonei residents had.

With a grunt Raeden stumbled into the bathroom. Not bothering to close the door, he fumbled with his trousers and soon Kim heard his strong stream splashing into the porcelain bowl.

At least he's housebroken.

When Kim returned from cleaning up the mess Raeden had made in the stairwell, he surveyed the bathroom with dismay. Well, maybe not so much housebroken. It looked like Raeden had gotten as much pee on the floor as he had into the toilet. Kim quickly cleaned that up too.

Returning to the main room, he was dismayed to find Raeden sprawled diagonally across his double futon, apparently sound asleep. He didn't look like he'd washed himself at all. Kim shuddered. I'll have to boil all my bedding and the blankets. He probably has lice.

The man's feet hung off the end of the futon, which was good because dirty snow was dripping off the bottom of his boots onto the rug. He knelt next to them, unlaced the boots, and carefully pulled them off, holding his breath. The big man groaned but didn't protest. His socks were filthy and wet, so Kim pulled them off as well, flinging them aside as if they might bite. Raeden's feet were pale, waxy, and ice cold. He picked up one of the folded blankets from the end of the bed and spread it over the big man, tucking it gently around his feet. It only covered him up to his waist, but he was still wearing his thick coat and hat. He would be okay. Kim needed the other blanket for himself.

He noted with surprise that he couldn't see his breath anymore. Usually, when it was this cold outside, his room was freezing unless he ran the hotplate for a while. Raeden must put out a lot of heat, he thought. It's too bad he puts out so much stench too.

He stared down at the man, wondering again how he could have let himself get into such a state. His face, in sleep, was peaceful. He looked years younger, almost sweet.

Kim stirred himself. He's not sweet by any stretch of the imagination, he told himself. He picked up the discarded socks with tentative fingertips and whisked them into the bathroom, depositing them in the tub. Then he washed his hands thoroughly with frigid water, shivering the whole while.

Between cleaning up after the derelict and dealing with his smelly socks, Kim's appetite had disappeared, but he busied himself heating some water for tea, holding his numb hands over the kettle as it warmed on the hotplate.

He knew without checking that he needed to recharge his PowerMonster. Luckily it was Saturday; he would be paid at midnight, the money automatically going into his account. Tomorrow he would drag his PowMon down to the charging station in the basement and recharge it.

He and his mother had both saved for months to buy the large battery that was their only source of power. The city only supplied electricity to the zones that could afford it—Zonegee and above. Everyone else either went without or ran on batteries. The PowerMonster had paid for itself within a year, and it was much more convenient to simply plug things into the PowMon than to have to purchase and change batteries continually.

Kim had taken the opportunity afforded by the PowMon to buy an antique lamp, a relic from the mid-twentieth century that he'd found in a second-hand store. He very rarely bought anything except food and the occasional book. He had everything he needed and little more.

The furniture in the unit was sparse. There was a long credenza with a cupboard and drawers that Kim thought was original to the hotel. On top of this sat the hotplate on one end and the lamp on the other.

Next to the futon, a large plastic container with a lid doubled as a nightstand and storage. A small battery powered lantern sat on top of that. Most of his things, including what little food he had left were stored in plastic bins which lined the walls of the room on the other side of the curtain. A couple of large, worn easy chairs were in the other room as well. On long summer evenings he and his mother would sit there together and look out the window at the city skyline and talk about life.

The kettle started to whistle and Kim made tea with the efficiency of someone who had done the task all his life. Then he sat down cross-legged on the threadbare wool rug that covered an even-more-worn carpet underneath, tea in hand, to brood over where he was going to sleep now that his bed was occupied by a smelly giant.

After his mother had died, he'd taken down the faded Asian fans that had decorated the wall above the bed and replaced them with equally faded vintage movie posters: Star Wars, Terminator, and Braveheart. He had seen the movie Terminator when he was seven; it had been the highlight of his young life. His mother had cleaned houses for families in Zonee and sometimes she would bring him with her to help. This family had been having a birthday party for their son who was just his age and they had graciously invited him to join in the festivities. The cake and ice cream had been delicious, but what had put him over the top was the movie.

He had only seen one other movie. Last Christmas when he'd been missing his mother terribly, he'd treated himself to a movie at a theater in Zonee. He had watched Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, a book he'd read so many times it was in tatters. The ticket had been so expensive, he hadn't been able to afford to recharge his PowMon, so it had been a week of cold-water washings, cold food, and battery powered lights, but it had been so worth it. He had worried that the movie experience that he'd had at the age of seven had been polished over the years until it held such shine that nothing could ever come close to it. But Lord of the Rings had more than lived up to his jaded expectations. He'd promised himself he'd go this year and see The Two Towers, even it meant he starved for a week.

By the time Kim finished his tea, his stomach had woken up and was demanding to be fed again. With a small sigh he climbed to his feet and, grabbing his flashlight, he went behind the curtain to rummage in his fresh food box. There wasn't much to paw through.

He pulled out a sweet potato, an onion, a turnip and a carrot. He had nothing left in the food box except another turnip, two more carrots, and a wrinkled apple. Good thing tomorrow's payday. I should risk going to Zonem to shop. Zonem was dangerous but there was a grocery store close to the border where a hundred dollars would buy enough food for several days. If he shopped in Zonei, a hundred dollars was hardly enough for a single meal.

Soon he had his vegetables sautéing in a frying pan with a touch of oil and some herbs and spices. The smell was almost making him dizzy with hunger. I really shouldn't go this long without eating. He was barely patient enough to wait for the vegetables to start to caramelize before he was dishing up a steaming plate and sitting cross-legged on the rug again to devour his simple meal.

He had only taken a few bites when Raeden launched himself to a sitting position with a groan. His face was scrunched with pain, his eyes glazed.

"Fuck!" he cried. He bent forward, whipping the blanket off of himself. He stared at his feet and then his hands. Another groan came out of his mouth and then he sucked air in with a hiss. Gingerly he touched one of his toes with a finger.

"Fucking son of a bitch," he railed. "I can't feel my hands or my feet except they feel like they're on fire! Fuck!"

Kim stared at him, not knowing what to do. Having experienced himself the rewarming of hands and feet that had gotten much too cold, he knew how painful it could be. Rewarming in warm water would speed the process, but by the time he heated up some water, the pain would probably be over. He got up and put the kettle on anyway. They could always use the water for more tea.

He heard Raeden begging, his voice husky with pain. "You gotta give me something, man. You got painkillers? Whiskey? Something?"

"I've got a couple of aspirin." Kim quickly retrieved a bottle of aspirin from the bathroom and brought a cup and the pitcher of water over to set on the bin next to the futon.

Raeden had his arms crossed around his chest and was rocking his upper body back and forth. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his lips were clamped together. Small moans rumbled in the back of his throat, although he seemed to be trying to suppress them. A sheen of sweat had broken out across his skin and every now and again he took a gasping breath.

He opened glassy eyes and looked at Kim. "Fuckin' A! Just give me the god-damned aspirin," he gasped. "Don't you have nothin' else? Nothin' stronger?"

Meanwhile Kim had poured a glass of water, and now he shook a couple of aspirin into his hand.

Raeden looked at the two tiny pills incredulously. "That ain't gonna do shit! In case you didn't notice, I'm a little bigger than you are."

Kim knocked another pill out of the bottle into his hand.

With a growl Raeden snatched the bottle from Kim's hand so quickly that Kim barely had time to register what happened before Raeden had his head back and was pouring the contents of the bottle directly into his mouth.

"Hey!" Kim grabbed for the bottle. Raeden let it go with a smirk. Pills went flying, scattering across the blanket. The big man picked up the glass of water. Sloshing some of it out on the way to his mouth, he took a big swig and swallowed.

Kim's attention was caught by his adam's apple bobbing under his scraggly beard. He wasn't sure why he should find that sexy, but watching that huge throat swallow caused heat to flush into his groin.

What the hell? I can't be that horny, I just jerked off this morning. Kim let himself become aware of Raeden's stench and that quickly reversed his attraction.

With shaky hands, Raeden set the remainder of the glass of water down on the tub. He crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and went back to rocking in pain.

Kim scrambled to pick up the scattered pills and carefully replaced the cap on the aspirin bottle.

"You should never have taken so much," he scolded.

"I'll be fine."

"You should eat something so you don't get sick." He held his plate of food out to Raeden. His stomach rumbled in protest.

"What is this shit?" Raeden asked, eyeing the meal skeptically.

"Just vegetables."

"That's what I thought." Raeden scowled. "Don't you have any meat or bread?" His voice was tight and his breathing labored. His brow was still covered in perspiration.

"No."

"No? You don't got shit do you? No food. No booze. No fuckin' drugs. Why the hell am I here?" Raeden's complaint was followed by another moan.

"I think I have an apple if you want it."

Raeden snorted.

Kim arranged the blanket back over him, watching him warily.

He was obviously in a great deal of pain, his breath coming in sharp gasps. He pulled his lower lip between strong teeth, obviously fighting to control his moans of distress.

Kim shook off the sudden disturbing vision of Raeden in the throes of passion; if he hadn't known the man was in pain his actions would have been sexy as hell. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm mentally molesting him while he suffers? Not only that, he's rude and disgusting.

Kim settled back onto the rug to finish his now-cold dinner, then he slipped into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

When he returned to the main room, he was relieved to see that Raeden appeared to have fallen into a restless sleep. He retrieved one of the pillows off the futon, wrapped himself up in the second blanket, and curled into a ball on the rug. The smell of vomit and urine mingled with the fading scent of cooked onions. It took him a long time to fall asleep.