True Dark

by Niall Teasdale

  Turning, Andrea set off toward the light again. It seemed like it really was the light at the end of the tunnel. Or at the end of something anyway.

  Part Four: Midnight in the Soul

  Hong Kong, China, 3rd October 2015.

  Billy Hong, Dragon Head of the 8G triad, lay face down on his bed, hips propped up on a couple of pillows. His fists bunched in the sheets, clenching each time Midnight thrust the strap-on she was wearing into Billy’s ass. It had taken him a couple of goes to realise that she did it to humiliate him. The first time had been kind of kinky; they had still been having regular sex back then, even if Midnight tended to like being on top. Billy had been quite surprised to discover that being ploughed in the ass could get him to come: he had previously regarded that as something only gays were prone to. Now… Well, at this point, Midnight had not let him near her in well over a month, but she still came to do this to him at least once a week. She got him to come every single time, no matter how much he tried not to. Except that he had stopped trying because she had a lot more stamina than he did. These days, he focused all his attention on making it quick.

  She was getting crueller. She was a sadist. That had been clear from the start. Since she had gained control of the 8G, she had been getting more sadistic, more callous. She was making plans to eliminate or absorb the other triads in the city, and she had captured a number of 49ers from other triads to gather information. She would spend hours working on them, using a combination of the terror her shadows brought with them and physical torture to get what she wanted. It was pointless: Billy knew she could have learned all of it without touching anyone.

  Somehow, Midnight needed to be stopped, but Billy was quite aware he was not the man for the job. She had him under her thumb. He did what she told him to do without question. The fact that he could even contemplate her fall from power was quite an achievement. Billy was not really sure any man could defeat her now anyway.

  His body began to shake as the unwanted climax hit him. He would need to change the sheets again. Was this the second or third time this week?

  ‘Good boy,’ Midnight said, in Cantonese, as she pulled out. Her Chinese was becoming pretty reasonable. It was a shame her main use for it seemed to be insults. Billy lay still, listening to her undoing the straps and dropping the thick dildo to the floor. ‘I will see you in the morning,’ she added before heading for the door. She used the main bedroom.

  There was no one waiting for her tonight, so she would sleep soundly. Billy would not.

  ~~~

  The building had once been a factory of some sort. It was in the Kowloon Bay area and, for whatever reason, the business which had owned it had moved out. The 8G had moved in. There were offices for a small, high-tech design company on the upper floors, but the basement was given over almost entirely to storing drugs.

  The figure moving through the darkness of the underground area had spent most of the last two hours pouring cans of petrol over packages of heroin. There were also crates of prescription drugs with alternative uses, some cocaine, and a random assortment of other recreational chemicals, but the majority was heroin. And the majority of it now stank of petrol.

  Satisfied, the figure walked back to the staircase which led up and out. Once there, a lighter was produced, ignited, and thrown back into the storage room. The fumes ignited almost instantly, and the drug store exploded into a seething mass of flame. Of the person responsible for the conflagration, however, there was no sign.

  ~~~

  Midnight stood on the sidewalk outside the remains of a building which had been one of the major stores of drugs for her triad. She looked calm and collected. Billy had learned that that was not a good sign.

  The building had been reduced to a burned-out pit. The fire had taken complete control before the fire service could get to it. And with the current state of the city’s finances following the collapse of the central government, the fire service was not exactly up to handling something that fierce anyway. The only plus was that there was no evidence left of what the 8G had been using the place for. It was a total loss.

  ‘This was not an accident, Billy,’ Midnight said.

  ‘No,’ Billy replied.

  ‘We had an excellent fire suppression system here. It had to have been disabled. Question everyone who worked here. All of them.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m not expecting any of them to be involved, however. Have our people start asking around. Forcefully, if necessary. I want to know who is responsible for this, Billy. If it’s someone new, I want them taken care of quickly. Our reputation is at stake. I want to know who did this, and I want to know yesterday!’

  Everglades, FL, 8th October.

  The Anhinga Trail was a raised walkway through a portion of the Everglades which allowed visitors to see the wildlife and the beauty of the landscape. Today, if they were lucky, they could also see the beauty of Cygnus, June, Svetilo, and Ever as they wandered the boards with their photographer, Rosanne Mellor. It was a hot, sunny day, so even everyone was in bikinis, even if Rosanne had shorts on over hers. All except for Ever anyway; the Avatar of the Everglades never wore clothes if she could possibly help it. They were looking for places to do impromptu, relaxed shots which might come out well, and Rosanne was just shooting pictures occasionally because she liked the look of a scene.

  ‘I have not asked,’ Ever said, ‘how are your efforts in your city doing?’

  Cygnus frowned. ‘Badly. The money’s just sitting there at the moment. Well, mostly just sitting there. We’ve put money into some community projects.’

  ‘A youth club,’ June said. ‘A couple of hostels. We partially funded a project to revitalise a sports centre that was damaged in the riots. We put money into a memorial park commemorating the people who died.’

  ‘But the city government is not exactly rushing forward with plans to put the area back together, so there are no major grants for redevelopment,’ Cygnus went on. ‘This year, we aim to put the money into more of the community projects. Next year, unless City Hall gets its act together, we’re aiming to pick a West Coast location and see what needs funding out there.’

  June smirked. ‘There will be negotiations aimed at getting Bianca in front of a camera.’

  ‘This is project I can get behind,’ Svetilo said. ‘Can we do that even if city does decide to stump up some money?’

  ‘Well, we could ask…’

  ‘I am surprised that the city does not wish to rebuild,’ Ever commented.

  ‘I think,’ Cygnus said, ‘they would prefer it if Churchton quietly went away. It’s served its purpose. It was put there to provide housing for the workers who built New Millennium. Now the unemployment rate is around ten percent. Thirty-five percent of the residents live below the poverty line. It easily has the highest crime rate in the city. Without Twilight, that last statistic is just getting worse.’

  ‘Let us hope she can be found soon then.’

  ‘Yeah, but it’s been months now. If we haven’t found anything now, she doesn’t want us to.’

  Hong Kong, China, 10th October.

  In one of the back rooms of the Midnight Dancer, Billy looked around at the men who were, theoretically, his underlings. He was nervous, but he was making damn sure he did not show it. That was partially because he needed to be sure that these men, forced to treat him as their leader, would treat him with respect and follow his orders. It was mostly because Midnight was watching from the side of the room.

  ‘We have had another attack on one of our fronts last night,’ Luo Mĭn said. He was one of the Red Poles, a big man with a bald head and a very round face. He had no powers, but he did have enough sheer mass to be intimidating. He was also known to be a misogynist and very vocal about his opinions, especially when drunk. And he had a glass of whiskey in his hand. ‘One of our processing labs was destroyed. This cannot continue.’

  Billy frowned as though in thought. ‘I requested, did I not, that our people be tasked
with finding out who is responsible for these attacks?’

  ‘And we have been searching for the last week.’

  ‘Clearly, insufficient effort has been put into the search.’

  ‘We have–’

  Billy raised his voice; clearly this idiot did not realise that his boss was trying to save his life. ‘Perhaps I did not make myself clear. We will find the person or persons responsible for these attacks. We will place guards on all our places of business. We will end this threat to our operations.’

  Luo glowered at Billy. ‘Or you will do what?’

  Midnight was standing behind Luo now and Billy just shook his head. ‘I will do nothing,’ Billy said. ‘Personally.’ Perhaps feeling the presence at his back, Luo turned and looked up at Midnight. ‘Choose your next words carefully, Luo,’ Billy advised.

  ‘No woman threatens me,’ Luo said.

  ‘Bad choice.’

  The darkness swallowed both Midnight and Luo. Luo wailed from inside the shadows and they rolled back, leaving the big enforcer staring at Midnight, his jaw hanging slack. Midnight reached out her hands and placed them on either side of his face in an almost loving gesture, but there were tendrils of blackness curling around her fingers and, a second later, around Luo’s head. His body sagged after only a second, his eyes flickering closed. His skin began to whiten, and then there were ice crystals forming a film over it. After about eight seconds, Midnight twisted her hands and Luo’s neck snapped like a twig. There were gasps from around the room.

  ‘Does anyone else wish to express any opinions on my leadership?’ Billy asked. The only sound was that of Leung Gāng, the accountant, retching. ‘Good. Find those responsible before Midnight is required to take a more active role. You may go.’

  14th October.

  To add to Midnight’s problems, the political situation was getting worse. Thanks largely to the triads, especially the 8G, Hong Kong was an island of stability. Shanghai was another such calm spot in the maelstrom. The rest of the country was a mess, at least according to the reports on the local news channels.

  In Hong Kong, everything was business-as-usual because it was hard to do any kind of business, even illegal business, when society was not sure who was in charge. There had never been a meeting at which it was decided that the current political hierarchy should be maintained, but there was a sort of unspoken rule that the triads would work alongside the police in weeding out anyone deciding to use the current situation for any form of revolution. Triad membership was actually up since it had become clear that the criminal and semi-criminal organisations had re-established a strong political standing. Midnight liked the current Hong Kong model because it was far easier to take control of things when there was an obvious leadership to replace.

  Shanghai was in a similar position and looked like it would end up being the new capital city. The Communist Party of China had already shifted its headquarters to the city and the few surviving senior members of the party were working to re-establish full control there. Midnight had already decided that, should they manage to achieve that control, she was going to have to deal with them. Their biggest advantage at the moment was that they had control of a major portion of the Army, and Golden Dragon was on their side.

  Golden Dragon, Jīnlóng, was the Chinese national hero. He was an enhanced martial artist with the added ability to fly and breathe fire. The Chinese people loved him, so he had a strong influence on what those people thought. ‘He will have to go,’ Midnight muttered as she watched the news.

  Billy looked up from the magazine he was reading. ‘Did you say something, Midnight?’

  ‘Jīnlóng will have to be eliminated sooner or later. Probably before the CPC can regain control outside Shanghai.’

  ‘That won’t be easy. He’s died a couple of times rescuing people in floods. He comes back to life. And he’s never been defeated in a fight.’

  ‘That was when he had the entire country backing him up. The government is fragmented and there are several charismatic Ultras wandering around, pulling people into alternative political groups. Hell, there are at least two Ultrahuman warlords setting up shop out there and carving themselves new countries out of the carcass of the old one. It looks like China is heading for another period of warring states.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound good.’

  Midnight smiled indulgently. ‘It’s great. For now. People want strong leadership when there’s chaos all around them. People are frightened right now, so they don’t care about democracy or freedom, they want safety. When the time comes, that’ll make things easy. All I need to do is remove the leaders and take their place.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘It’s going to take some time,’ Midnight admitted, ‘but it’ll happen. Time is something I have plenty of.’

  16th October.

  Midnight was on one of the poles in the club. She had been growing her hair out for a while: strands of it now fell over her eyes and she had two respectable pigtails which swung appealingly as she danced. She enjoyed the exercise and the attention. The latter was occasionally useful for picking up some entertainment for later, but circumstances precluded that possibility tonight. In fact, it seemed likely that Midnight would not be going to bed at all, never mind with someone.

  Another useful aspect of dancing was that it gave her time to think. She could pull off the various moves easily without much effort on her part, which left her mind to work on problems. Her problem at the moment was the reason she would not be taking some unsuspecting hunk home with her: there had been several more attacks on 8G businesses in the past couple of nights. They always happened at night, while she was asleep to be precise. Since that was the case, Midnight had decided she would keep a watch tonight. She could not be watching everywhere at once, but she could probably scan her attention over the most likely targets enough to catch whoever was doing it.

  Her gaze swept over the table where Billy was sitting with a collection of fawning females. He was smiling, acting as though nothing was wrong and that his only goal for the night was to enjoy himself. She could tell he was acting. She could see the tension around his eyes and she had noticed that he was drinking more than usual. He knew that his position was precarious. He also knew that it became more precarious with every unavenged attack. And Midnight needed the man as a buffer between her and the frequently misogynist lower ranks. He was an annoyance at times, but he was remarkably good at his job. Perhaps, if the real culprits were not found soon, she would have to manufacture some evidence to implicate someone else. One of the other triads… That would work.

  Swinging down from the pole, Midnight collected various bits of clothing from the stage and headed toward the door to the changing rooms. One of the other dancers, an extremely flexible girl named Méilǐ, walked out to take Midnight’s place, flashing her a tentative smile in passing. Midnight returned the smile. If things worked out over the next day or two, Méilǐ would be paying a visit to Midnight’s home. Yes, that would be the perfect way to celebrate.

  17th October.

  ‘Nothing!’ Midnight snapped. Billy kept his head down and concentrated hard on his coffee. ‘It’s like they knew I was watching!’

  Midnight had had no sleep and was, in fact, planning to go to bed soon. Billy was rather pleased with that. ‘They don’t go out every night,’ he said. ‘Perhaps they’ll hit again tonight.’

  She glared at him, but he was right. Whoever was responsible for the attacks on her triad, they seemed to be careful. They planned. They had not attacked every night, but when they did, those attacks were quite devastating and there were never any clues as to the perpetrators.

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ Midnight snapped. ‘I don’t want to be disturbed before evening unless war breaks out.’

  ‘Of course, Midnight,’ Billy replied. He did not smile until she had left the room. If this kept up for a while, things would be a lot more pleasant for him. He frowned. Well, if Midnight failed to find whoever was doing this soo
n, things would get a lot less pleasant, probably for everyone. Best to spend the day putting a rocket up the asses of as many subordinates as he could get to. His peace was going to be limited until Midnight got what she wanted.

  New Millennium City, MD, 23rd October.

  ‘You are in Churchton, are you not, Astraea?’ Denny knew full well where June was. June figured the computer was being polite.

  ‘Yes, Denny. Problem?’

  ‘There is a brawl taking place in a bar at Avenue N and Fourteenth Street. The police cruiser which responded is asking for backup. Cygnus is still dealing with that mugging in Friendship Park.’

  ‘Not sure what I can do, but I’ll head out that way.’ June turned, heading north and east toward the location Denny had specified. It was still a little weird to be reacting to Denny’s suggestions rather than helping to make them, but it was getting easier.

  Cygnus was really the ideal person to handle a barroom brawl. She could just walk in with her Guardian aura active and everyone would stop fighting to gawp at her. It was quite an effective tactic. June was going to have to… Well, she would get to that when she got there.

  The bar went by the name The Four-Leaf Clover, which was ironic considering that it did not seem to be that lucky. The fight had spilled onto the street by the time June dropped onto the sidewalk and the two cops from the cruiser outside were manhandling a couple of the combatants away from the door. Neither of the cops recognised her, but they did seem to appreciate both the arrival of an Ultra and the costume.

  ‘It’s crazy in there,’ one of the officers said. ‘Don’t know what started it, but they’re getting nasty.’

  ‘Well, Cygnus should be heading over when she’s finished in Friendship,’ June said. ‘I’ll see what I can do before she gets here.’ Taking a deep breath, June pushed through the door into the bar.

  It had probably been a fairly nice place before the fight had broken out. The exterior was fairly plain brick with several large windows which had, miraculously, remained intact so far. Inside there was quite a lot of wood panelling including a broad, dark wood bar with a mirror behind it almost obscured by optics and shelves of glasses. One section of the mirror was going to need replacing along with a lot of glasses. It looked like a barstool had been involved. There were people fighting on the floor, in the booths which lined one wall, and on the bar. As June took it all in, someone smashed a bottle over someone else’s skull. That was going to need stitches. There had to be twenty or thirty of them trying to beat each other senseless.