by KC Hunter
Contents
The Weirdo's Warehouse
The Weirdo’s Warehouse
The drive proved therapeutic for Kana after the hostilities of the morning. The weather report forecasted clear skies which turned out to be a falsehood. Showers fell from the sky and pelted her Dodge Challenger as she left suburbia and entered the countryside.
Kana replayed Alice’s words over and over in her head, imagining different ways she could have handled it. The woman’s voice became an ice pick stabbing at the back of her brain. She pressed play on her car stereo and selected one of her favorite playlists to listen to. All the tracks were rock songs from several genres with howling guitar riffs and bellowing drums. One track gave her pause, an old gothic rock song titled “Incubus Succubus”, its chorus highlighted by the haunting vocals of the female lead singer repeating two words: incubus succubus. She skipped the track, realizing the inappropriate timing of such a song, then skipped back to it anyway, the German lyrics stuck in her head. She put the track on repeat, tapping the wheel of her car in tune with the rhythmic drums while lip syncing the lyrics.
The end of the rain shower coincided with the end of the song, and there ahead was her destination. An abandoned warehouse in an area full of buildings owned by failed companies. If there were warnings from the outside that this place was dangerous Kana couldn’t see any. The sun cut through the grey clouds overhead, highlighting flocks of birds fluttering down to the drenched grass, seeking morsels of worms summoned to the surface by the earlier downpour.
She turned down the street, slowing her speed to park on the side of the road a few yards from the entrance. A makeshift gate marked the perimeter of the building, easy enough to bypass as she approached on foot. The building itself was unremarkable, red bricks and barred windows painted black from the inside. Not much else distinguished it from the other abandoned factories, mills and warehouses in the area. She cased the grounds, checking all sides of the building for security cameras and found none. What did find was the back door to the warehouse, weeds and rust covering most of it.
Kana neared the door, her right hand free to reach the handgun she stashed in the back of her pants. A twinkle of sunlight pulled her attention away. Its source was the polished silver handlebar of a motorcycle—a chopper to be specific—parked in line with six others near the opposite end of the building.
“Can’t find the entrance either?” she heard a voice call to her belonging to a short, bald man limping in her direction. “Who are you working for? It’d be nice if these sumbitches came to these auctions themselves and hauled their own junk. Then again, we wouldn’t get paid, now would we?”
“Yeah, they don’t tell us much,” she said, lowering her hands to her sides.
“Damn straight they don’t! But they want us to do all the lifting. We had to bring a truck for this. It’s lost somewhere on the highway though. We’re waiting for that dumbass to find his way here. Are you metal or magical?”
What an odd choice, she thought. “Magical. We can go in through here, right?”
He followed her finger and grunted in agreement. “They call me Rusty Grain, but you can call me Rusty.”
“Hi Rusty. My name is Alice,” she lied, a smirk surfacing on her lips for a moment.
“Well, I’m sure your real name is something much prettier than that. You don’t look like an Alice. We don’t see many of your kind around here, but this is an international operation, ya know. Guess it takes all kinds... no offense.”
“None taken.”
He caught up to her position and continued walking to the back door. The closer he got the easier it was for her to make out his biker patches. She couldn’t remember where she recognized them from. He wasn’t a regular at Scruffy’s she was sure of that.
Rusty continued his gossiping. “There’s a lot of stuff this guy is offloading today.
We’ll be back next month. If you’re on the magic side, you get the fun stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“I don’t rightly know, nor do I want to. I’m a Christian boy and that kind of thing is better left for those who have the stomach for it.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I’m not knocking it. If that’s your deal that’s your business. It’s just as couriers I’d like to know what I’m trafficking isn’t going to send me to Hell.” He laughed with a wheezing cough.
Kana politely laughed in response, her attention still on his patches. “Where are you from?”
“Out of town. We got here last week. This is someone else’s territory, but they allow us to pass through for this kind of work.”
Dear God, no, she thought. It couldn’t be.
Rusty pulled the door open and waved Kana to follow him. It clicked with her where she had seen his patch before. He was part of the same gang as the overcompensating Nitro Nick, the biker she embarrassed at Scruffy’s a few days ago.
“Have you ever met Russell before?” Rusty asked.
“No. Is he as strange as people say he is?”
“Strange? Ha!” Rusty laughed so hard he coughed. “Nuttier than a pet coon I’ll say!
But it’s not over the top, you know. He’s more—how do you say—understated, I think the term is. Quirky fella. The way he talks you can tell that there’s a screw loose somewhere.”
Great, Kana thought, not only was she in a secluded warehouse with Nitro Nick’s biker gang but their host was unstable. She had to ditch Rusty, as kind as he had been, before anyone else saw her.
An excuse popped into her head. “You know, it’s been a long trip here. I’d like to freshen up. Is there a bathroom a lady could use around?”
“What? Oh yes, of course. Sorry, I hadn’t even considered that. If you take the next right and head down to the end of that hallway and then hang a left, you’ll find the facilities. This is an old cup making factory. It's been abandoned for years so it might not be the cleanest of bathrooms.”
“I’m sure it will be fine.”
“Okay. When you’re done the main room is up ahead to the left.”
With that he continued to the main room. Rusty was right, the place left little to be desired. Three stalls lined the walls, one of which had a broken door hanging from the hinges and covered in graffiti. She’d seen worse at Scruffy’s. After doing her business she looked for an alternative way to the main room. Several male voices carried through the hallways of the warehouse, muffled by the walls. She looked up to the rafters high above her head, accessible via the piping and scaffolding work welded into the walls.
Taking a deep breath, she ascended the nearest pipe, then grabbed onto the scaffolding just above the entrance to the bathroom, climbing to the walkway above.
After a few steps she noticed the sound her boots made on the metal grating. Slowing her pace didn’t reduce the noise by much. Seeing no other choice, she crawled on her hands and knees toward the voices, hoping no one looked up to the ceiling.
Beyond the partition that separated the hallway from the main room she could see the bikers below. Two taller men were in the back of the group, their hands crossed and sunglasses hiding their eyes underneath stringy mops of long dark hair. Another pair, one thin and the other obese, held court in the middle of the room, swinging bottles of liquor around as they exchanged jokes. Rusty was the fifth, standing with his hands on his hips as he watched the comedy routine.
In the center of them all was Nitro Nick, his face flush red from alcohol, his curly brown hair soaked in sweat as he continued telling his joke over the laughter. Kana cringed as she listened to his story: a less-than-humorous tale about how he bested a "mongrel girl" at a local pool hall and took all her money. The story was felonious, given
Kana knew it was about her. The realities of their encounter were far from what Nick was telling. She shook her head, watching this poor boy trying to curry favor with his brothers.
“... that stupid bitch!” Nitro Nick blurted as the punchline to the story. “See boys, that’s how you deal with them types. Don’t let them think they can just come over here to our country and push us around. You put them in their place! Especially those damn Japs or whatever she was.”
“Nick taught her good, didn’t he?” the thin biker added, patting Nick on the back before taking another mouthful of whiskey.
“You damn right. Sweetheart had a soft spot for me I’m sure. Poor girl. She wasn’t bad looking as mongrels go. If she had been nicer, I might have had myself some saki teriyaki that night if you know what I mean!”
He cracked himself up, laughing before he could even finish the sentence. His audience joined him, their guffaws so forced they could be used for a sitcom. The non-bikers in the room remained as still as mannequins, unmoved by the stand-up routine.
Nick noticed their lack of enthusiasm. “What? Don’t tell me y’all are offended or some Social Justice Warrior types? It’s just for laughs, boys. Lighten up.”
The door on the far side of the room opened and out walked a stout man in his late thirties wearing a bathrobe and slippers. He moved to a desk littered with paper and trash, sat in the folding chair behind it and leaned back, rubbing at his patchy brown heard.
“Place your orders here, please,” he asked, his voice nasally. “No duplicates this time I hope.”
Nick placed a long sheet of paper down on the desk. “Here you go. You know who we work for so this won’t take long I hope. We’ve got other places to be, Russell.”
“I’m sure, I’m sure,” Russell answered, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses as he scanned the list. “You’re buying a lot today. I hope you brought a truck.”
Nick looked over at Rusty who was checking his phone. “It’s still on the way,” Rusty said. “He says about five minutes.”
“So, we’re not in that much of a rush then,” Russell said.
Nick nodded, “By the time we finish all the paperwork he’ll be here.”
Russell plucked at his lower lip, his eyes still darting back and forth to each of the bikers. “Two of you can come with me. The others stay out here.”
“That’s fine,” Nick said, his smile that of a circus clown. “Rusty you stay out here. I’ll take Skinny Stan with me.”
Skinny Stan, Kana repeated the name to herself, shaking her head at its lack of originality. She continued to watch from the skywalk as Russell led the two bikers through the door of a mesh fence where she lost sight of them. Rusty, Skinny Stan’s portly friend, and the silent bikers remained with the other two men who Kana assumed were Russell’s security team. Off to her right she spotted a ladder she could use to climb down. Holding her breath, she crept toward it, paying careful attention to what was going on below her.
Without warning the two long-haired bikers drew their weapons on Russell’s security. Caught with their guard down, the security team raised their hands in surrender as the long-haired bikers closed in on them, relieved them of their weapons, and ordered them to face the wall.
It was a robbery.
“Crap,” Kana muttered, frozen mid-crawl.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Rusty asked his brothers. “No one told me that’s what we were doing here.”
“Nick changed plans while you were outside,” one of the stick-up men said, his voice baritone. “We’re still doing the pickup but we’re taking a few extras on the side for us.”
Rusty continued to protest. “This makes no sense. We’ll never get a courier job again if we rob the guy with the stash.”
“According to Nick, we won’t need to if we get what we want.”
“This is stupid. I’m calling the other brothers. Nick can’t just change plans like that.
And I’m surprised you three are going along with it.”
“Three?” the portly biker said. “Hey, I’m not in on this either. This was just supposed to be a pick up y’all. What’s going on?”
“Keep your mouth shut Cody and you’ll find out. Trust us, we will be fine. When he comes back out here follow our lead. Rusty, instead of calling the other brothers, how about you find out where that truck is?”
A horn blared from outside as if on cue. One of the stick-up bikers pushed Cody to the loading dock entrance. He opened the double doors and there was the tardy truck backing up to the open doorway.
“This is a big mistake,” Cody said.
One of the long-haired brothers slapped him on the shoulder. “Keep your cool. It’ll be over soon. No one has to get hurt.”
Russell squealed as he exited the fenced in area. “What the f—”
“Shut up!” Nitro Nick yelled, pushing the business end of his Glock to the back of
Russell’s head. “Go over there, sit down, and try not to fall out of your chair. You two, load up the stuff in the back. We got what we came for.”
“Nick man...” Rusty struggled with his words, scratching the back of his head as he thought over what he was about to say. Then, sucking in his gut, he continued. “We can’t do this. You can’t just go off like this. The brothers...”
“The brothers will be happy when we get paid. Do you know this little nerd is sitting on stuff that’s worth millions? Trust me, they’ll be fine. Load the truck up.”
“It’s not what we do,” Rusty argued.
Kana inched closer to the ladder, not sure what she would do once she was there. She prayed they didn’t hear her over the shouting and arguing.
Russell had yet to sit in his chair, but Nick was busy with Rusty, the two now standing eye to eye, fingers pointing and guns waving about. Skinny Stan and Cody surrounded the pair to make sure their argument didn’t escalate. That was when Russell made his move.
With no one paying attention to him, he slipped back into the caged area, closing the door behind him. An alarm sounded, and a layer of plexiglass slid into place just behind the mesh fence, shielding Russell and his merchandise from the robbers. His security guards took the next step, rushing the distracted bikers and wrestling for their weapons.
A few shots rang out skyward, ricocheting off the metal just a few feet from Kana.
“You screwed it all up,” Nick shouted.
In a split second she saw a bright flash of muzzle fire, a splash of crimson, and Rusty’s body collapse against the brick wall behind him. Nick stood immobile, the gun shaking in his blood-splattered hand. Skinny Stan screamed, rushing towards Nick only to find himself cut down in the crossfire between Russell’s security guards and his long-haired biker brothers.
“We have to get out of here! It’s done, Nick!” Cody grabbed at Nick’s vest as he ran to the truck. “Come on, let’s go!”
“It’s not totally lost,” Nick whispered to himself. Kana watched him pull a silver object from the inner pocket of his vest and twirl it between his fingers.
“We’re just going to leave Rusty and Stan?” Cody protested.
“We’re going to join Rusty and Stan if you don’t move it!” one of the tall bikers bellowed.
Russell’s security continued to exchange gunfire with the bikers, both pinned behind a table. They didn’t have the advantage here. Kana saw how the robbers were using the steel columns in the warehouse as cover between outburst of gunfire. It was enough to provide them a way out. Below her she could see the two guards, both looking at empty clips for their guns, out of ammo and cowering.
When the bullets stopped flying, Nick and what remained of his crew scurried out of the building to their motorcycles. They sped away from the warehouse with the truck following close behind them. The roar of their engines trailed off into the distance while Kana climbed down the ladder.
She heard one of the security guards yelling. “Another one!”
Even though they were out of ammunition she sold
a posture of surrender, her open hands up in the air while the guards trained their weapons on her. Not too far, Kana thought, if they searched her, they’d take the gun in her back pocket.
“Don’t touch me,” she warned them.
“Keep your hands up! Why did you stay behind? Who are you?”
“I’m not with them. I want to talk to your boss if he’s done hiding back there. Look, I know it’s bad timing, but this is important.”
She couldn’t keep the smirk off her face. The guards continued to advance, reaching out to grab her. That was far enough. Kana pulled her gun and aimed, switching back and forth between both guards who still feigned as if they’d shoot her.
“You’re out of ammo. I saw the whole thing. Just drop the guns, stop looking stupid, and go grab your boss. I need to talk to him.”
They looked at each other and nodded. Both dropped their weapons. One walked over to the cage while the other adjusted his tie and looked Kana up and down. Another pervert with an Asian fetish, she thought.
“So, what’s your name?” he said, lowering the tone of his voice.
Kana curled her lip and squinted, “Seriously? You’re going to pick up a girl who’s holding a gun to your face?”
“It’s kind of a turn on, actually.”
“Go over there with the other guy!”
“I’m just—”
“Now!”
He didn’t bother to argue and walked away, giving her one last look and a wink before joining his partner at the entrance to the cage. Kana turned her attention to the dead bodies on the floor whose deaths came from Nitro Nick's actions; one by his own hands and the other because of the firefight he started. These weren’t the first dead bodies she’d seen but none this close. Kana had never shot her gun at anyone, it was more for protection than combat. She couldn’t imagine pulling the trigger and ending someone’s life. A guy like Rusty didn’t deserve it.
“Okay, who are you and... oh my God the smell!” Russell covered his mouth as he walked over to Kana. “What do you want?”
“I’m not part of whatever just happened. I came here for another reason.”
