Revenant

by Michael Anderle

  “The docks? That’s a weird place to get busy.”

  “You shouldn’t be so crass,” he chided.

  “Ah, come on. I’m only being real.” Inigo laughed. “How about this—let’s go see if we can catch him.”

  “What?” Placido asked, flabbergasted. “What if he is actually—”

  “That would be even better. He made us wait all this time, so we should have a little fun, don’t you think?”

  “What if he gets mad at us?”

  Inigo scoffed over the comms. “Come on, that ain’t like Gin. He might get a little ruffled, but he’ll probably only be as apologetic as you usually are when you mess up.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” The exotech sighed. “I am reasonably close to the docks, actually.”

  “Cool. I’ll meet you there. See if you can find him.” With that, they ended the call. Placido retrieved his transmitter and sighed. How did he constantly get dragged into Inigo’s little pranks?

  Hopefully, Gin wouldn’t be too mad at him.

  The exotech walked down to the warehouses at the end of the pier. So far, he hadn’t seen him and he wondered if Gin had already returned and was now waiting on them. No, that didn’t make sense. He would have turned his visibility on in the network by now if that was the case.

  As he walked up and down the rows of warehouses, storm clouds formed above. He realized that he should probably quicken his pace. If it got too bad, he would have to hope Gin would contact them later.

  He heard something but couldn’t make it out. It seemed quick and dulled and sounded like it came from inside one of the storage units. Placido jogged over and leaned up against the side of the unit to listen. Was it a malfunctioning machine or something?

  A thump was followed by another sound, this one clearer, and it sounded like a pained grunt. Two more thuds were followed by muffled words. Something was definitely going on in there.

  “Have you had enough yet?” a voice rasped, low and menacing and barely audible. The unmistakable sound of someone crying punctuated the short silence that followed. “Stop your bitching! You’re in on this now too. If you don’t want those pics to get out, keep your mouth shut.”

  What the hell was going on?

  “Ed, we have to wrap this up.” Placido knew that voice. It was Rick, one of Eddy’s flunkies. “We’ve been here way too long. I think Gin’s gotten the point, man.”

  Gin. They have Gin.

  “We could get caught,” Tai added, and he sounded nervous. “This is way more than you said we would do, Ed. This won’t only get us expelled. We’ll all go to jail.”

  “Shut the hell up. That will probably happen anyway once—” Eddy’s retort cut short and transformed into a haunting chuckle. The tone was ominous and Placido trembled involuntarily. “You want to wrap this up? Fine, I’ll wrap it up for good.”

  Collective gasps confirmed the man’s intent. “Eddy! Don’t!” Tai yelled.

  “What the fuck, bro!” Rick protested. “Don’t kill him!”

  Kill? No, no, no!

  Placido ran to the side of the storage unit, shoved the bar aside, and dragged the door open.

  “Stop!” he and the others shouted.

  Blood sprayed in the air—Gin’s blood released by the knife in Eddy’s hand.

  “Do you feel strong now?” Eddy sneered. Tai, Rick, and a girl with auburn hair stared at the entrance of the storage unit and at Placido, who stood there in shock. Gin winced and his eyes fluttered as Eddy twisted the blade deeper.

  The exotech grew silent and his hand moved mechanically to his pocket. Eddy finally looked over his shoulder. “Hey, look, it’s one of Gin’s buddies,” he mocked. “So you came looking for this pissant? Well, take a good last look. This’ll be the last time he ever talks down to—”

  Placido ran forward and both Tai and Rick seemed too surprised to stop him. He flicked the cap off his scalpel and drew it out. Eddy’s eyes went wide as he straightened and yanked the blade from Gin’s chest. He wasn’t quick enough. The exotech rammed the scalpel into his throat and his adversary’s shocked gasp became a guttural gurgle as he dropped the knife. Placido simply stared at him and dragged the blade across his throat. Once the scalpel slid free, Eddy’s body subsided into a heap.

  “W-what… What the h-h-hell…” Tai stammered as he backed away from the newcomer.

  “Why didn’t you stop him?” Placido asked, his voice monotone and eyes downcast as he held the scalpel up.

  “We couldn’t, man. Eddy was…he was losing it, man,” Rick said and his voice trembled.

  “You should have tried. Look at what he did!” the exotech roared and tears formed in his eyes as he looked at his friend. “You didn’t stop it.”

  Without any warning of his intention, Placido launched himself at Rick, who almost didn’t seem to register the danger he was in. Too late, he tried to scream but it was cut off when the scalpel stabbed viciously into his jugular. He staggered back against the wall of the storage unit and the girl shrieked, covered her mouth, and scrambled away. Rick leaned against the wall for a moment before he slid down, his hands clutched around his throat.

  Tai tried to fight and attacked Placido before he could turn on him. The exotech slammed his knee into his attacker’s groin and the medic doubled over. He raised the scalpel and drove it viciously into Tai’s head and dragged it down his face as the man screamed. The agonized cry faded and Placido released the scalpel and let the body fall. He looked at the girl.

  “You brought him here,” he said, his voice low and venomous. “You were the one who brought him here, weren’t you? You trapped him.”

  “I-it wasn’t m-my fault,” she pleaded. “Eddy made me. He-he threatened me.”

  “Gin is… Because of you, he is…” His voice began to break and he shook his head, walked over to her, and moved his hand to her throat.

  “Placido…please stop,” a weary voice said behind him. He turned and Gin stretched a shaking hand toward him.

  “Gin!” he cried and grasped his friend’s hand. “I’ll call the medbay. They’ll fix you. I promise I’ll—”

  The ace merely smiled a small, soft smile. His eyes closed and his chest stopped moving as his hand went limp in Placido’s grasp. He tightened his grip on Gin’s hand before he released it. Numb and resolute, he picked Eddy’s knife up, stared at it for a moment, and then looked at the girl.

  “Placido…” He turned. Inigo stood at the entrance, his face pale and mouth agape. The next moments were a blur. He pushed past the decker and sprinted to the edge of the dock. The only thought that drummed in his brain was that he couldn’t be there anymore. A red flash in his oculars confirmed that his EI had sent an alarm to the faculty. He whipped the device out and removed the EI chip from it. Poised on the edge of the pier, he held it briefly in his hand before he let it fall and crushed it under his heel.

  Placido leapt into the bay and swam maniacally toward the forests that surrounded it. He made it to shore and turned to see several scout ships take off. They were coming for him already. He continued to run deeper into the forest.

  After several hours, his body gave way and he collapsed near a tree to drag in deep breaths as his muscles tensed up. Something dug into him when he sat and he fumbled in his pants pocket to pull it out. His heart thudded as he stared numbly at a knife—the one used to kill Gin. He must have pocketed it when he ran away from Inigo.

  Placido traced his fingers over the bloody blade and flinched when he cut himself. He hurled it into the underbrush and curled into himself. The rain began to fall as he trembled and rocked on the forest floor.

  Chapter Three

  “Worst fucking day of my life,” Gin muttered and slid Macha back into its sheath. “I had a few bad ones before then and a few after, but nothing comes close to that.”

  His companion placed a vape stick into her mouth.

  “Do you like those things?” the killer asked and regarded the device with mild curiosity. “I never touch them myself.
I knew a guy who always seemed to have one in his mouth. He was actually the one who set this whole ball rolling for me.”

  It had been three months since the incident and Placido had been able to make his way back home. Well, at least to Los Angeles, the city he was from, although he couldn’t go to his actual home. They would definitely be waiting for him by now—he’d seen enough to confirm that he was a wanted man. He moved the brim of his hat down as he walked out of the market, a few bags in hand as he made his way back to the building he currently squatted in.

  Wearily, he placed the bag on the nightstand he had found in the alley and sank into a rickety chair to hold his head in his hands. What could he do now? He had been like this ever since his return. The disguises wouldn’t protect him forever. He had cut his hair down to almost a shaved look, wore contacts and sunglasses, and even had his ears pierced. But he couldn’t run forever, could he?

  He took a pear from the bag and bit into it. His prospects were bleak, to say the least. He contemplated turning himself in, but that was pointless. Honestly, he felt no remorse. They all deserved it. Eddy, Rick, and Tai all deserved to die for what they did. They were all responsible.

  Frustration ate at him, as always. He should have been there. Gin should have told him about…whatever it was. Placido took another bite of the pear before he stood and hurled it at the wall in anger. He walked to the nightstand and opened the drawer to retrieve a knife with a five-inch blade. His gaze dispassionate, he studied it for a moment before he raised it slowly to his neck. It scraped against his throat and he held his breath as he tried to will himself to slice it through his flesh. He had done it to Eddy but couldn’t do it for himself.

  Frustration mixed with disappointment as he lowered the blade and exhaled before he stepped back and dropped into the chair. He sat motionless for a while before he raised the knife slowly, ready throw it down.

  A commotion outside stopped him and distracted his focus. He first thought he should simply ignore it. The building was mostly dilapidated and it was probably only scavengers. They wouldn’t bother him once they saw he had nothing to give. He glanced at the bags from the market and remembered that he did have food. That could be enough for them to start trouble.

  Placido pushed quietly from the chair and walked over to the doorway where he knelt and peeked out at a trio of men across the room. They didn’t seem to have any intention to ransack the little that was left, which was interesting as even he had been able to sell some of the items he had found for a few hundred credits.

  Instead, they seemed to search for something in particular as another man emerged from one of the rooms and shook his head. “I’m not sure he’s here,” the newcomer muttered.

  “We’ve only checked half the building. He couldn’t have gotten far,” another stated as he turned quickly. The flashlight on his helmet almost caught Placido but he managed to duck back behind the wall in time.

  “We still have a few rooms left. Should we split up?”

  “Against this crazy bastard? Hell no,” one of them spat. “That’s asking for a blade to the eye.”

  “Then let’s move on to the next. Keep your eyes peeled. He might try to vanish while we’re looking around.”

  Placido moved to the corner of his room and gripped the knife tightly in his hand. He looked at the broken window across the room. Maybe he should try to get away? He wasn’t sure who these men were, but they didn’t seem to be looking for him. From the sounds of it, they were already in pursuit of someone, but he was a wanted man now. They would probably see it as a bonus, especially if they didn’t find their target.

  He froze as loose rubble fell from the ceiling and he looked up. His heart skipped a beat. A man was attached to the ceiling of his room—how had he gotten there? He was clad in dark armor but pieces of the suit were cracked and visible indentions covered the chest, shoulders, and legs. He looked down and placed a finger where his mouth should be, except the bottom half of his face was covered with a mask. His gray eyes were visible, however, and stared at him with a cold warning.

  One of the mercs walked into the room and looked around for a moment before he caught sight of Placido.

  “Who the hell are you—” The man on the ceiling dropped, caught the merc around the neck, and snapped it in one swift movement. He laid the body down and drew a blade as a second merc stepped through the doorway. The stranger drove the knife into the merc’s neck and the victim made a rough gurgling noise before he collapsed.

  The killer walked away from the body and exited the room and Placido, shaking in shock, focused on the sounds of a scuffle. The third merc was likely the next victim, although he seemed to at least be fighting back. Placido simply froze. He didn’t know if he should consider himself lucky or not and supposed it would depend on whether the man came back to finish him off to leave no witnesses.

  A boot slid along the floor and a gun clicked. He dragged his gaze to what he assumed was the fourth merc who stood directly outside the room, his gun at the ready but not aimed at him.

  “Hands up, Kilian,” he ordered in a tense growl.

  A laugh sounded before something heavy dropped. “So it’s gonna be like that, eh? I’m not sure if you wanna look around, but no help is coming.”

  “I don’t need help. I have enough right here.” The merc waved his gun for a moment. “As for them, I’ll hire a new crew with what I’ll get once I turn your head in.”

  “Ain’t that ironical. I’m probably worth more than I actually have,” Kilian mused. “But you won’t get a cred today.”

  “You won’t escape.”

  “I had no plans to. After all, you need to be chased to escape.” He chuckled again. “No one will follow me tonight, boyo.”

  The merc fired and a red light hurtled from the barrel of his gun and struck something Placido couldn’t see from his vantage point. “Do you think you can dodge that? This is one of the fastest guns on the market,” the bounty hunter threatened. “ You come with me and I’ll only wing ya a few times to keep you in line. You are worth more alive than dead.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Kilian huffed. “I would be right grateful should I get a bit of a hand here.”

  Placido startled as the insinuation took root. He looked at his knife as the merc took a couple of steps forward. “You don’t have the creds to offer to get me to help you out.”

  “That wasn’t my thought at all,” the fugitive retorted. Placido gripped the blade firmly in his hand and peeked around the corner. The merc stood with his back to him. He wore a helmet but his neck was exposed. Still, Placido hesitated. The reality was that he was in enough trouble and should stay out of it, but against his better judgment, he glanced at the stranger, who smiled at him. To the merc, it would look like a cocky smirk, but to Placido, it seemed warm.

  He straightened and snuck forward as the merc reached one hand behind him to retrieve a pair of cuffs. Placido shoved his hesitation aside, grabbed the man by the neck, and pulled back. The bounty hunter yelled in surprise and fired his gun into the air as the blade sank deep into his neck. The man continued to fight with all he had left in him and tried to strike at his assailant with his free hand. Kilian joined the fray and thrust a large blade into the flesh beside the one that still protruded with Placido’s hand gripped around the hilt. Blood poured down the merc’s chest and a few droplets splashed on the attackers. He went limp and they released the body as one. Kilian freed his blade casually as Placido let go of his in shock as the body tumbled.

  The fugitive laughed and wiped his blade with a handkerchief—one that seemed to be nearly useless now as it was covered in dried stains. Placido looked from the bodies to Kilian, who simply grinned and took a drag on a vape stick. A small white light glowed from the tip. “Good moves there, sonny,” he complimented and exhaled a stream of vapor. “Do you have a name?”

  “P-P-Placido” he answered, his voice a choked whisper.

  “Hmm? Speak up now. No one else will hear ya
.” Kilian kicked the merc’s body. “Obviously.”

  “P-Placido, sir,” he answered again. His heart beat rapidly and yet strangely, he didn’t feel that he was in any danger.

  “Plah-see-dough? Hmm, a bit of a twister, I think. I’ll stick with ‘sonny’ for now. I’m sure there’s no need for formalities and all.”

  Placido looked at the bodies. “This…does seem like it’s not a very civilized environment, I suppose.”

  The man laughed boisterously. “You have that right, sonny, but even without the bodies decorating the place, it’s not exactly the height of comfortable living here.”

  “I suppose you are right,” Placido conceded.

  “Eh, sorry. I didn’t mean to make fun of ya.”

  He waved a hand. “It’s all right. It’s not really my place, just the closest thing to home I have for now.”

  Kilian stroked his chin. He took out a glowstick and snapped it and a bright light emitted which he raised to better illuminate the room. Placido could see his face properly now without the mask. He was pale-skinned and the suggestion of a beard had formed around his face like he hadn’t shaved in a few days. His hair was long and brown and caught in a single braid that started from the middle of his forehead and wound to the back of his head.

  “Hey, you look familiar.” He studied Placido with his piercing gray eyes.

  He tensed instinctively. If he figured out who he was, would he turn him in?

  The older man snapped his fingers. “You’re that kid they’re looking for, aren’t ya? The one who killed some of the kids at that fancy school in Washington?”

  Placido didn’t answer and simply focused his gaze on the floor.

  “I knew there had to be something. That strike wasn’t a fumble or a lucky trick. You’ve had a little practice.”

  “That wasn’t what… I’m not—” He looked at Kilian and scowled. He didn’t have to defend himself to this man, who was probably worse than he was. “They deserved it.”