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Authors: Iii Carlton Mellick
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away before they know what hit them. Although they are not the biggest gang in Crab Town, they are the most dangerous, and most feared.
The King Crabs and other Crab Town gangs have a different kind of existence than anyone else in the city. They aren’t interested in rebuilding or returning to civilization. Instead, they embrace the wasteland. They live like road warriors of the post-apocalypse out in the ruins. Only, instead of vehicles, they use wind-powered bicycles. Instead of guns, they use javelins and arrows. They are returning to a more primitive, tribal life. And anyone who isn’t one of them is considered their enemy.
The House of Cards decided they had to do something about these punks causing havoc in Crab Town. After shutting down the radiation porn ring, the House of Cards thought Jack would be the right person for the job. But he wasn’t. Jack had a respect for the King Crabs. Instead of getting rid of them, Jack wanted to join forces with them. He thought they were well-organized and damn near invincible. If only their moral compass was in the right place.
The first time Jack tried to communicate with the King Crabs, they beat him nearly to death with bike chains. He explained that they were on the same side, that Crab Town citizens were their family, and that they should work together against the fat cats of Freedom City.
“Someday you won’t have to live like wild animals anymore,” Jack said.
It was the wrong thing for him to say.
“We want to live like wild animals,” said Little Sister. “The rest of you live like sick, dying, caged animals. At least we’re free.”
“If we work together we can have a better life,” Jack said.
But these kids have never known the old world. They grew up in Crab Town. They only know two ways of living: hard and fast or waiting to die. They love living like wild animals in the ruins of Crab Town, taking whatever they want, doing crab shit, and waging war against rival gangs. They thought the place was called Crab Town because the King Crabs owned it.
Jack couldn’t get through to them. But he wouldn’t give up. They beat him bloody, but once his wounds healed he came right back. Then they beat him again.
The fourth time Jack visited them, one of the younger kids in the King Crabs gang was suffering from a head wound after crashing into a brick wall while high on crab shit. The kid was jerking on the ground, hemorrhaging blood, part of his skull broken wide open. Jack tried to go to the boy, to see if he could help, but Little Sister’s friends got in his way.
“Don’t touch him,” Little Sister said, two of the bigger kids were at her side.
“I have a friend who could help him,” Jack said. “If we get him to her she might be able to save his life.”
“A King Crab doesn’t need help from anybody,” she said. “If he’s tough he’ll survive on his own. If he’s weak he deserves to die.”
“So you’re just going to sit around and watch him die?”
“It’s our way,” she said.
“Bullshit,” Jack said. “It’s a waste.”
Jack tried to go for the boy, but the King Crabs held him back. They punched him in the stomach, then knocked him to the ground. They took out lead pipes and threatened to beat him worse than the previous beatings combined.
“Let him go,” Little Sister said, before they could break his face.
The others were surprised at her mercy.
“I’m sick of looking at his face. Get him out of here.”
While he was being dragged away, Jack made eye contact with Little Sister. He could tell she was confused by him. Nobody had ever offered to help a King Crab before. She thought the rule of Crab Town was that you only look out for yourself. Part of her was angry that Jack offered to help. He was breaking the rules of the land by doing that. He was offering the kind of compassion and aid that she had been longing for as a child after her parents died of radiation sickness. She was always wishing somebody would
The King Crabs and other Crab Town gangs have a different kind of existence than anyone else in the city. They aren’t interested in rebuilding or returning to civilization. Instead, they embrace the wasteland. They live like road warriors of the post-apocalypse out in the ruins. Only, instead of vehicles, they use wind-powered bicycles. Instead of guns, they use javelins and arrows. They are returning to a more primitive, tribal life. And anyone who isn’t one of them is considered their enemy.
The House of Cards decided they had to do something about these punks causing havoc in Crab Town. After shutting down the radiation porn ring, the House of Cards thought Jack would be the right person for the job. But he wasn’t. Jack had a respect for the King Crabs. Instead of getting rid of them, Jack wanted to join forces with them. He thought they were well-organized and damn near invincible. If only their moral compass was in the right place.
The first time Jack tried to communicate with the King Crabs, they beat him nearly to death with bike chains. He explained that they were on the same side, that Crab Town citizens were their family, and that they should work together against the fat cats of Freedom City.
“Someday you won’t have to live like wild animals anymore,” Jack said.
It was the wrong thing for him to say.
“We want to live like wild animals,” said Little Sister. “The rest of you live like sick, dying, caged animals. At least we’re free.”
“If we work together we can have a better life,” Jack said.
But these kids have never known the old world. They grew up in Crab Town. They only know two ways of living: hard and fast or waiting to die. They love living like wild animals in the ruins of Crab Town, taking whatever they want, doing crab shit, and waging war against rival gangs. They thought the place was called Crab Town because the King Crabs owned it.
Jack couldn’t get through to them. But he wouldn’t give up. They beat him bloody, but once his wounds healed he came right back. Then they beat him again.
The fourth time Jack visited them, one of the younger kids in the King Crabs gang was suffering from a head wound after crashing into a brick wall while high on crab shit. The kid was jerking on the ground, hemorrhaging blood, part of his skull broken wide open. Jack tried to go to the boy, to see if he could help, but Little Sister’s friends got in his way.
“Don’t touch him,” Little Sister said, two of the bigger kids were at her side.
“I have a friend who could help him,” Jack said. “If we get him to her she might be able to save his life.”
“A King Crab doesn’t need help from anybody,” she said. “If he’s tough he’ll survive on his own. If he’s weak he deserves to die.”
“So you’re just going to sit around and watch him die?”
“It’s our way,” she said.
“Bullshit,” Jack said. “It’s a waste.”
Jack tried to go for the boy, but the King Crabs held him back. They punched him in the stomach, then knocked him to the ground. They took out lead pipes and threatened to beat him worse than the previous beatings combined.
“Let him go,” Little Sister said, before they could break his face.
The others were surprised at her mercy.
“I’m sick of looking at his face. Get him out of here.”
While he was being dragged away, Jack made eye contact with Little Sister. He could tell she was confused by him. Nobody had ever offered to help a King Crab before. She thought the rule of Crab Town was that you only look out for yourself. Part of her was angry that Jack offered to help. He was breaking the rules of the land by doing that. He was offering the kind of compassion and aid that she had been longing for as a child after her parents died of radiation sickness. She was always wishing somebody would
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