My mind swam so quickly with the evening's details that I had problems concentrating on my way down the street. The way my luck had been going, I had become a trouble magnet and was probably risking a DN hijacking if I took the subway, so I opted for a cab instead. The falling mist brought me the clarity I had thought about earlier and realized that my bitterness was probably born out of my frustration with Cloak. I really hate being jerked around.
With a jolt, I remembered to snap the holster shut and quickly took care of it. I'd hate to cap off an already thoroughly ruined evening by blowing my leg off or getting my hardware lifted. As I wiped the sludge out of my eyes, I realized how thankful I was for the drizzle. My other option was a downpour and I didn't feel like getting pelted by anything or anyone for a while. This had been a long day and a long damn week.
When the cab finally hissed to the curb, I climbed in and gave the address for home without looking at the driver. The last thing I wanted was conversation with a bored cab driver and I took in a breath, weighing what had just happened. The week had begun with a Cloak briefing and ended with a surprise skull boost. Either I was making someone happy, or providing enough amusement that they felt like tossing me table scraps. No matter how I thought about it, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was under a microscope and they were just waiting for me to screw up.
Speaking of screwing up, I thought about the way my evening had been ruined and pulled out my phone. I hadn't taken the time to program it yet and had to dial Gael's number the manual way from memory. As it rang, I wondered what I should say. I knew that "Hi, I'm really truly sorry that Cloak ruined the evening, but they just wanted me to know that they're REALLY watching now. Oh, and by the way, they said you and K'rth are dead if I screw up." I didn't think I thought that wouldn't work and decided to play it by ear.
She picked up on the second ring.
"Gael. I'm ok. They just wanted to talk with me."
"Alex! Where are you?" her voice was strained and the apartment was silent behind her.
I looked out at the streaks of rain on my window. The wind had picked up and had turned the drizzle into a horizontal shower that rattled the scarred plastic. I loved Mort's beautiful weather and couldn't believe anyone actually came from New Paris to see it. I wondered if postcards that said "I survived Mort's rain but Cloak killed me anyway" would have an appeal. Probably not.
"I'm in a cab heading home." There was silence on the other end and I wondered if I had blown it. "It took a lot out of me."
"Are you sure you're all right?" she asked. I heard the sound of the couch creak in the background.
"Yeah, just a few years older now. See you tomorrow."
I hung up feeling like everything was wrecked, at least anything that I would care about. More had happened to me in the past hour than in the last five months and I rubbed my temples, unsure what to do about it. I considered the crappy "life before my eyes" slideshow when something disturbing came to mind. I really hate introspection, but Krth would probably just say I'm afraid of the truth.
I counted and realized I have taken forty-eight – make that fifty-one lives - in the past five months without losing a single night's sleep. Meanwhile, personal issues like my irritation at Casper or concern over Angus keep me up at least one day a week. Did that make me a sociopath? I'm not sure. The blood on my hands is just part of the job and I'm good at it – I'm what Slayer wants me to be. But what about me? Was I was becoming cold and did I really care if I was? Fatigue intervened like a heavy blanket and I let go of the train of thought. There would be plenty of time to think about it later on, when I was more rested.
The cab let me off in front of my tenement and I trotted through the sheets of gray rain toward the lobby. I couldn't help but wonder what K'rth would think about what had happened this evening and knew I wouldn't tell him everything. What went between Gael and myself would stay that way, even if K'rth was my best friend. I looked through the discolored glass of the security door before I opened it and walked into a desolate lobby. This place reminds me of some of the institutional dorms at Meny, while Gael's building seemed like the crystal towers where real operatives lived. Punching the elevator button, I looked around at the heaps of trash, cracked tiles, and stained walls of my little department of housing assigned paradise. From above, there was a distant rattle of the car coming and a puff of rancid air wafted over me.
Booms and yells echoed in the shaft as the car lowered and I decided to step back and groaned. It sounded like another fight and I was too tired to take the stairs instead. When the door swung open, I saw that a trio of Frothers were beating the hell out of someone. Since the tartars of the three on top were the same, it was probably clan related. Some dumb ass probably had the guts to "rat fuck" their colors, but not the brains to run like hell afterwards. Anyone stupid enough not to know that they stick together like a mob deserves what they get.
I was about to call the Shivers to mop these guys up, but then I caught a glimpse of the punching bag. It was Angus and it looked like he had bitten off more than he could chew again. The stupid bastard always throws himself against any odds with blind abandon, then pays for it, literally through the nose. If his mouth doesn't get him killed, his optimism certainly will. I just hoped it didn't get me killed along with him since I seemed to keep coming to his rescue.
"This damn day is never going to end," I complained and I stepped forward. I hated fighting Frothers…
I grabbed the nearest one by the elbow but let go when he tried to bite my hand. Waiting until he turned back, I grabbed a handful of hair along with his and spun him backwards out of the elevator. He landed on his face and skidded under a bench, then tried to come to his feet. One of the others took a swing at me, but I stepped back and let him miss, baiting him out of the elevator. The first one was a giggling mess and had pinned himself under a bench.
"Yer uh dedmen!" he sneered as he came at me. Spit mixed with blood covered his chin and his eyes were wide. These guys were probably just trying to settle a minor score or having fun and I had inadvertently invited myself to the party.
He punched again and clipped me in the chin, but I managed to trap his wrist and elbow, pulling him forward off balance and extending the arm. When he tried to jerk it back, I locked the wrist and cranked sideways against the joint and he growled. Then his eyes met mine and he giggled, letting me know that he was beyond feeling pain. Something in the back of my head said "oh shit" and I held on.
He began to run around me, gradually picking up speed like a little kid and I figured he was winding up to sling me off balance. After one complete circle, I dropped and spun, sweeping my heel across the floor in the opposite direction of the way he was running. It caught him at the ankle and flipped him forward through the air. With a scream, he slammed through the front of a vending machine, sending snacks and beads of plastic clicking across the tiles. Keeping the rotation going, I came to my feet in a fighting stance as he slumped into a heap. His friend was still having problems getting to his feet and I knew I had to take care of number three before they all got back up and kicked the hell out of both of us.
It figures that the last one would be the biggest damn Frother I'd ever seen. His arms were bigger than my legs and he had a small pillar in place of a neck that would put a Stormer to shame. He held Angus off the ground by the neck and shook him like a rag doll without straining. Meanwhile, the smaller man wheezed and coughed, pounding the wall with his feet for traction. I had no idea that these guys shot up on growth drugs, but I wouldn't be surprised.
Instead of trying to talk him into letting go, I took the direct route and tried to distract him. I kicked him in the side of the thigh with my heel and he flinched as it cramped up. Letting Angus fall, the big guy came towards me with a slight limp. He mumbled something with a thick accent that I didn't understand then rushed forward. Yeah it worked - I had his full and undivided attention. Somewhere behind him, Angus whimpered and tried to crawl away. If he left me, I'd kill him…
I sidestepped the giant's charge and kicked him in the floating ribs, but the momentum took me off my feet and slammed my arm into a vending machine. I recovered more quickly than he did and sidestepped, popping my palm into to the base of his skull. Something must have rattled loose and he cocked his head trying to shake it back into place. He seemed more surprised than hurt and that wasn't a good sign.
He started to turn to me, but I stomped his leg just below the knee and sent him falling forward. When he crashed down to my level, I smashed my elbow into the back of his head and heard a crack as his chin bounced off his chest. He flopped onto his hands and spat a red puddle into the floor and I kicked him onto his face. As I backed, I saw that the first Frother was just now coming to his feet. Retreating towards the elevator, I heard the hum-hiss of a Claymore powering up and knew that things had just gotten worse.
Angus always swears that Frother culture is lived by a set of codes, one of which is that fights for fun are always unarmed. He said that it's perfectly ok to pull a weapon, but that makes things serious and you can't complain if you get your head handed back to you. That meant that the big man was really pissed since had picked up his friends Claymore and snapped it on. The second Frother also pulled his and used it to push himself to his feet before flipping it on with a giggle. Both had wicked grins on their faces and the humming blades wobbled in their grasps. Even if they weren't serious before, their patience must have run out and they decided to shed some blood.
I pulled my Blitzer and stepped back further before guiding the dot to the center of the big guy's chest. Just when I thought that there was no way that this day could have gotten worse, I was in a dustup with two drugged up loonies. Angus really owed me for this one…
"You're a coward! Pull'n a gun inna knife fight!" the smaller of the two yelled.
I cocked the hammer and shook my head. I was in a solid firing stance and would pull the trigger if either moved.
"Actually, you're the ones who brought the knives to a gun fight."
For the moment, no one moved and I figured they were thinking about their options. The big man stared at the firefly on his chest like it was some sort of magic and I kept it there, but his friend was a little more coherent and was up to something. I would have to place my shots well since either one of them would kill me in a heartbeat.
"Pull the trigger, Cole!" Angus yelled from behind me. "They're fuck'n crazy!"
"I don't care what this is about or who started it, but you've got two choices. You can rush me and leave in a mop bucket, or you can just leave." I said.
I switched may aim to the smaller Frother's face and he blinked, then raised his hand as the red dot floated near his eyes. The big buy started forward so I snapped my aim back and sighted in on his forehead. He glanced up then started to glare at me. Gun or no gun, he wasn't about to give up, at least not in this lifetime.
"Make up your minds."
The one in the heap on the floor stirred and moaned but went silent, so I figured he wasn't going to be part of this. Behind me, Angus rolled over onto his stomach and tried to use the rail in the elevator to pull himself up, but I heard him slump against the wall with a gasp.
"You wanna try me?" I asked the big guy but the only movement was his trembling. His face was flushed red and he had bitten through his lip, making the slobber pink. When something rumbled in his chest, I wasn't sure if it was a growl or hunger and decided to push it.
"COME ON!" I yelled, "LET'S GO!"
The big man's eyes flinched and he started to move, but I stepped forward on him to close the distance. He backed up, keeping his eyes on mine and slowly killed the power on his blade. Opening his other hand, he lowered the Claymore and took a step back. His eyes were as harsh as flint and his face was gaunt from adrenaline and drugs. After a moment, his friend did the same and slung the blade on his back.
"This isn't over," the smaller man said. He had flaming red hair and the wide, flat pie kind of face that deserves to have a fist put through it.
I stepped towards him and leveled the barrel at his head.
"Then why don't I pull the trigger and save myself some trouble?"
He sneered and stepped up until the barrel nearly touched his forehead. The trigger was halfway back when he stopped moving and his mouth stretched into an ugly grin. Yeah, he definitely had the kind of face that draws the first punch.
"Do it then!" he said. "And my family'll hunt you down like a pig!"
He was counting on me not wanting to pull the trigger and I stared at his wide blue eyes. Even without the drugs, he definitely wasn't afraid of dying. Crazy, son of a…
"Too much paperwork," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I was exhausted, stressed, and just a little unnerved at the moment. He was right about me not wanting to fire.
"You're a fucking cow-" he started.
Hand to hand was my preference anyway, so I kicked him in the groin hard enough to pick him off the ground and used his hair as a handle to slam his face into my knee. Something popped and rattled across my leg as he slumped forward, clutching the bloody mess that used to be a face. The big man started to charge, so I stepped behind his friend and flashed the red dot across the giant's eyes before centering on his chest. He stopped short and shielded his eyes with his forearm, still gripping the powered down Claymore.
"I'll make a deal with you Red," I said as I yanked the Claymore from his hand and tossed it across the room. "You don't come around me or my friend, and I won't hunt you and your two buddies down and make you scream like little girls, ok?"
"FUCK YOU!" he yelled. The big man stepped forward again and I put the dot between his eyes, halting him. If he stepped forward again, I would either have to shoot or he'd be close enough to spit on me. Wrenching a handful of Red's hair up and back, I saw the bastard's eyes as he winced. I knew the handcannon's recoil would be a bitch one-handed, but it would hurt the giant a lot more than it would me.
"If I do see your ugly face again, bullet tax or not," I said, wrapping the hair around my fist. "I'll kill you and as many of your 'clan' as you try to hide behind. Understand me?"
The look on his face told me that he couldn't be reasoned with or intimidated, so I tossed him forward. He scuttled away then pulled a MAC knife from his leg. As he limped towards his Claymore, he pointed it at me and spat a broken tooth onto the floor.
"Gun beats knife, dumbfuck." I said as I switched targets back to him.
"This isn't over!" he said as he scooped up his Claymore. With a final dirty look, the two of them pulled their friend out from under the candy machine and limped to the door.
"So you keep telling me."
I waited until I was sure they were gone and went to the elevator where Angus was barely keeping conscious. Kneeling next to him, I cradled his head as the doors ground shut, then pulled him to his feet.
"Damn, Cole" he started, "You saved my ass. I really owe y –"
"Yeah, yeah. You owe me, yadda, yadda." I said as I propped him against the corner. He grinned at me with what was left of his face and I shook my head. With his metabolism, a night's sleep on my couch, and a few shots of Kickstart, I knew he'd be abbie-normal again by morning. Until then, he was in a lot of pain and there wasn't anything I could do about it. The adrenaline had helped push my fatigue aside, but right now I really wanted my bed.
When the elevator lurched upward, he started to fall and I caught him. His face was a mess and I hoped he didn't have any internal injuries. Gradually, he slumped into my shoulder and I ended holding him on his feet like a drunken dance partner. As soon as I thought he had gone unconscious, he sniffed and looked up at me with his swollen face.
"You smell funny," he said with what passed for a grin but I ignored him. Sniffing again, he nodded and tried to arch an eyebrow. His teeth were red and several were loose enough that I doubted he'd be able to keep them through the night.
"It's called cologne. And a bath. You should try one." It's funny how you can recycle lines between him and the Chagrin.
"Nah, there's something else…" he said as he thought about it. "Ya been with a girlie! A real cutie, eh?" he said grinning wider. He found the energy to stand on his own feet, but I made sure to steady him.
"You could say that."
"What's she like? Got nice gams?" He asked. If there's one thing that Angus likes to talk about more than fighting, it's got to be women. I didn't feel like talking about the pleasant part of my evening and was desperate to driving a stake in this day and calling it dead. Why didn't he have the common decency to just pass out?
"Why don't you just shutup and bleed?"
"S'more interest'n to talk about your lass!" He was on his "after the fight" high and wouldn't shut up until he had passed out. I'm not sure which is worse, him yammering about some mythical fight he won or one I had to pull him out of. I decided to redirect him.
"So what happened? Did you nail someone's sister or just run your mouth off again?"
"Nothing like that, mate. I just owe the Gaff something and his boys come tuh visit. Who'd a thought that Sour Blood could hold his own against the Drip-Rip boys?"
I let my breath out and closed my eyes. The stupid bastard was in to a loan shark and I had just messed up the enforcers, clan Frothers at that. Now they'd want a piece of me too…
"Like I said, I really owe you. Who knows what woulda happened if you hadn't come by and pulled 'em off me. The damn MacLeod boys are some hard bastards, eh?"
The MacLeod boys.
Five of Mort's enforcers that are ruthless and rough enough that even I've heard of them -and I just busted three of them up. As if hunting a rogue op, having Cloak hovering over my shoulder, and this thing with Gael wasn't enough, he had to mix in professional legbreakers. He sensed something about my mood and shutup, but kept the damn grin.
I don't like to play against the same odds he does and seriously considered tossing him down the trash chute. That was far too easy, so I bumped him into half a dozen doorframes on the way down the hall. It wasn't nearly enough, but I felt a little better at least until he passed out.
God help him if I'm ever not around to save him when he needs me. I guess I really am my frother's keeper.
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