by Chris Sapp
"I guess the video was real?" She knew the answer. But she had to ask.
"Yeah,” he grimaced. "Sorry, kiddo."
"How did Phaedra OD?” she asked, “Did she use a bad needle? Did someone poison her stash?"
"There was no foul play. I've gone over the situation a thousand times in my mind."
Just thinking about it caused fresh tears to accumulate. She tried to think of something else but Phaedra's ruined features kept flashing through her mind. She covered her face with her hand.
Seventeen years ago Phaelan banged some groupie after a concert and nine months later out popped Izabel. When her mother tried to go public Phaelan paid her two million credits to stay silent. She took the money and then traded Izabel for morphagens at San Andreas’ Morphagen Tower. Phaelan must’ve suspected what her mother would do. Not only did he set up a trust fund that would support Izabel for the rest of her life, he also saved her from being detoxed and sold into slavery before she could even walk.
"Izabel, I know this is difficult for you and I'm sorry. But we need to secure your trust fund."
Good a subject change. She wiped her face.
"Why? I thought it was secure?"
"It became open game the minute Phaelan died."
"Open game for who?" Izabel asked.
"Anyone that Phaelan owed money to. Rockstars have expensive tabs."
"But they can't do that. It's my money."
"How are you gonna prove it, kiddo? You're just a minor. Plus, no one knows you're related."
"But...But…"
Elijah smiled, his pearly whites contrasting against his metallic complexion, and gently patted her thigh. "Have no fear…Elijah is here."
She sighed and leaned back in the seat. She'd always known that she was dependent on her trust fund but she never knew how much until now. Without credits she wouldn't be able to buy anything. No morphagens, no food, no clothes, and no guitar. No Guitar! Where was her guitar? If it had been left at Spanky's it was as good as gone. She sat up.
"Relax. It's in the cargo hold,” he soothed. "And yes I got your case." She sighed and leaned back in her chair. He seemed to be on top of things. Plus he was nice.
"So, how do we secure my funds?" she asked.
"By making a withdrawal,” Elijah said. “A big one."
"How big? A hundred thousand?"
Elijah, motioned with his thumb for her to go higher.
"Five-hundred thousand?"
He motioned again. Higher. Still not enough? Izabel was grinning from ear to ear. She couldn't help it.
"A million?"
Elijah nodded.
"A million credits? Are you kidding me?"
"Nope."
"Holy shit. I'm a fucking millionaire."
"What about ol’ Elijah, don't I get a share?"
"Oh...oops," she laughed. "I guess I do owe you."
"That's what money does to people,” Elijah said.
"It didn't happen to my father and it's not gonna happen to me. How much do you want? Half?"
"No, Izabel. It's your money. I was only joking."
"I'm serious. My father asked you to look out for me and you have. You deserve some of it."
“Your father paid me to look out for you. Besides, a million credits won't go as far as you think."
BY TWELVE O’CLOCK the following afternoon, Izabel was leaving the San Andreas Credit Union with a silver briefcase full of credits. A million credits to be exact. They had arrived at nine o'clock just as the bank was opening its doors. But to Elijah’s dismay, it was still raining, so he had stayed on the ship. The withdrawal had been easier than she thought. Elijah had given her a passcode that allowed her to override her monthly withdrawal limit. She could barely contain her excitement as she strolled across the wet platform. She didn't have a clue how far a million credits would take her but she was gonna have fun finding out. Now she didn't plan to blow it all. That would be stupid. But she was gonna blow a little. She was also going to give some of it to Elijah, even if she had to hide it somewhere on his ship. The ramp descended as she approached and Elijah was waiting for her at the top.
"Everything go okay?" he asked, carefully handing her a towel.
"Great."
"Good. Then let's get the hell off this piss puddle of a planet."
"And go where?" Izabel asked.
"Where would my lady, like to go?"
"My lady? What happened to kiddo?" She asked, ringing out her hair.
"I must apologize. I've called you kiddo since the moment I laid eyes on you…but such a term is not fitting for the beautiful woman I see standing before me."
She could feel the heat burning her cheeks and the tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked them away. "Thank you, Elijah. I've never been to Fahrenheit but I've heard that the sunsets this time of year are wonderful. "
Elijah grinned. "Wonderful doesn't even begin to describe them." He turned in the direction of the cockpit.
"Can I use your shower?"
He paused in mid stride. "Uh...I think the hotels on Fahrenheit would be much more to your liking."
"I'm sure they're lovely. But I'm already wet,” she said.
"As you wish, my lady."
Since Chromeys couldn't use water to bathe, Elijah’s shower had an empty and abandoned look about it. The faucet and tiles were covered by two inches of dust and there were giant cobwebs in the corners. But none of that bothered Izabel. She'd bathed in nastier places. She just turned the faucet on and let the water push the dirt and grime down the open drain. She undressed and tossed her wet clothes into the dryer located in the corridor between Elijah’s bathroom and his sleeping quarters. When she returned to the bathroom both the mirror above the sink and the shower door were fogged over with steam.
She stepped under the shower head and gasped. The hot water reddened her skin instantly. It felt amazing. She tried to relax and let the water wash away her worries. But that only led to thoughts of Phaelan and Phaedra and that led to crying. But rather than fight it, she embraced it.
Elijah didn't have any soap or shampoo because he didn't need them. But that was okay because she had to watch what shampoos she used because some were strong enough to wash the pink dye right out of her hair. That would be No Bueno. She had just shut the water off when she heard the wail of an alarm.
It was the collision warning.
She quickly dried off and wrapped the towel around her head. It sounded like Elijah had enough to worry about, the last thing she wanted was for some stray drops of water to land on him. She dressed and headed for the cockpit.
She never made it.
Something hard collided with the back of her head. At first she thought, that they had crashed with whatever the ship’s systems had been warning them about. But the only explosion, was the one at the base of her skull. She was vaguely aware of being dragged into the galley and bent over the bar.
"Have no fear. Elijah is here,” someone whispered in her ear. Elijah? But it can't be Elijah. He's my friend. He saved me. He helped me secure my million credits...and then withdraw them. She tried to stand up and he forced her back down. It was said that Chromeys were strong enough to survive a horde of stampeding Giants. She believed it.
"Make this easy, my lady, and death will be easy. Make it hard and death will be hard."
Make what easy? Suddenly, he pinched the top of her ear. His touch was cold and hard. Oh, no! She squirmed. “Elijah…please."
"Don't beg! It makes you weak. Phaedra was weak!"
"Did you..."
"Did I kill her? No, they took her away before I got the chance. I didn't even get to take one of her ears. The drugs robbed me of that pleasure too. You saw how disgusting those things were. But your ears look absolutely perfect."
Her ear burned as he started to twist it off. She had to keep him talking. "Why are you doing this? You can have the money!"
"Don't worry. I'll take the money. After I take your ear." He licked her ear lobe and she
nearly vomited. She screamed but it was no use. He was so damn strong. She looked around the room for something. Anything. She could use as a weapon. There was a set of steak knives. But they were out of her reach. Even if they weren't, the metal would probably just bend or break against his impermeable skin. She thrashed, kicking and flailing her arms as hard as she could. It made little difference.
"Stay still!"
Her heel was on fire. She had tried to kick him in the balls and even those had been as hard as iron. Her ear burned as he begin to slowly rip it off. She was about to be disfigured and then murdered and there was nothing she could do about it. She didn't want to close her eyes but she might as well, because her hair had come loose from the towel and was lying on across her face, blocking her view. It was cold and wet and...my hair is cold...and wet.
She whipped her head back, then forward, then back again. Elijah’s cry of pain was music to her ears. She flipped her hair from side to side again. She could feel the strands of her hair slapping against his skin. Elijah screamed again and this time he released her. She darted for the hallway, blood running down her neck as she went.
Where was she going to go? Where would she be safe? The shower? No, he'll just get a gun and shoot me through the glass or something. She had to get as far away from Elijah as she could and that left only one option.
Escape pod.
"Izabel!" Elijah roared. He had recovered and she could hear him pounding up the corridor behind her. She quickened her pace. She had never bothered to locate the escape pods in Elijah’s ship. But most escape pods could be found in the cargo hold. So, that's where she headed. She spotted two things upon entering the cargo hold. The two escape pods occupying the wall to her right and her guitar case lying against the opposite wall. She went for the guitar. She tossed her instrument into the waiting escape pod and attempted to climb in after it.
She never made it.
Izabel was jerked backwards out of the escape pod and slammed face first into the hull. Her nose broke in a spectacular combination of blood and pain. She crumpled to the deck.
"That was a good trick with the hair, I have to admit." Elijah complimented and then he jettisoned both escape pods.
Izabel's heart sank. With the push of a button she had lost both her guitar and her life. Of course, if she hadn't gone for her stupid guitar then she might still have her stupid life. Her hair was still fairly wet, but she doubted that he'd fall for it again. Confident, that she was no longer a threat to him, Elijah strolled towards her. Contact with her wet hair had left gruesome rust streaks across his face and deteriorated the steel veneer in some areas, marring his once handsome features. "You're not pretty anymore,” she mocked.
"Neither are you, kiddo. Remember our conversation about an easy death versus a hard one.”
He started towards her, both hands balled into enormous fists. Even though it hurt every muscle in her body, she forced herself to her feet. Again, she looked around for some kind of weapon or anything that she could use to defend herself.
There. Lying between two cargo containers was a crowbar. She snatched it up and held it between herself and Elijah.
"You've got spirit, kiddo. I'll give you that."
"Stop calling me that."
"Or what? You gonna beat me to death with that crowbar?"
"That's the idea,” she snarled.
He advanced right and she retreated left. That was okay. No, it was better than okay. It was good.
“I’ve been a Kevlar addict for thirty-two years. Nothing's getting through that." To emphasize his point, he tapped a finger against his bulging bicep. It clinked like a hammer tapping metal. He saw her fear and smiled.
"My hair got through," she retorted "and so will this. As long as I use it to knock out those sparkling teeth. Or maybe I'll just shove it through your eye."
His grin was gone. In its place was anger and something else. Hopefully it was fear. She'd have to take the chance. She stepped forward with confidence that she didn't feel.
It worked.
He took a step back and hesitated. That slight hesitation was all the time she needed. She threw the crowbar at his face as hard as she could and then she turned and ran like hell. Only after she had reached the back hatch and slapped the controls to lower the ramp, did she bother looking back. Elijah was still advancing and not only was he unharmed, he was now holding her crowbar. But it didn't matter. In a few seconds when the ramp was fully lowered one of two things was going to happen. If Elijah had left San Andreas then both of them would probably be sucked out into the cold vacuum of space. If he hadn't then hopefully she would be assaulted by strong winds and a lot of fucking rain.
They were still on San Andreas.
She edged further down the ramp, enjoying the relief of wind ruffled hair and rain slicked skin. Especially, the rain because every inch of her that was wet was one inch where that sick bastard couldn't touch her. He stared down at her from the top of the ramp.
"I suppose you think you're safe?" he asked.
"Prove me wrong. But watch your step. It's a little slippery."
He smiled but he wasn't moving. She knew he couldn't. There was no way he'd risk himself by coming after her. Still smiling, he reached up and touched the wall.
The ramp began to raise.
Shit! She'd been so preoccupied with getting away from him she'd completely forgotten about the controls. She looked around for something to jam into the ramp to keep it from closing. There was nothing. The ramp was sealing and so was her fate. It was all over if she allowed it to close. Elijah would come for her then and she would die. That left her only one choice.
Jump.
She did.
MAGNUS
SOME PEOPLE WERE born with very little patience, Magnus Slade had been born with none. Waiting of any kind was something he just didn't do. In fact, he avoided it like the centaur plague. If there was an item that he wanted but you had to wait in line to get it, then he either went without or he'd make one of his bodyguards do it. Usually it was Flynn. Same principle applied to traffic. If there was going to be traffic then he wasn't flying. Usually it was Petro, but not tonight. Tonight he had to wait and he had to fly. It was too damn important to send someone else, especially not Petro or Flynn. Well, he could have sent Vi, she could be extremely convincing, but she was busy taking care of things at Slade Tower. Plus, if he sent Vi then he'd miss the feeding frenzy and seeing a Bloodhowl feeding was almost worth the wait. Almost.
He stood in the cockpit of his cruiser looking out his viewport at Fahrenheit's desert landscape. He wasn't the sentimental type but the lack of vegetation and water made him long for Centropolis. He sighed when he saw the ship descend out of the atmosphere. Thank God, his wait was finally over. Hot wind laced with sand assaulted him as soon as he stepped off the ramp. He was grateful for the goggles protecting his eyes. He would've forgotten them if Vi hadn't reminded him. She was the most prepared person he had ever met. Which was why he chose her to be his second.
The location was completely secluded just the way he wanted it. The other ship touched down and a shiny metallic man descended the ramp.
"You're late, Defoe,” Magnus said, noticing the rust streaks on the man's face.
"No shit, Slade,” Elijah retorted.
When Magnus had threatened to crush the Chromey’s chest back in Phaelan Lennox’s quarters, Elijah had told him about Izabel, Phaelan’s bastard daughter and the million credit trust fund he’d left her. Magnus had agreed to spare Elijah’s life in exchange for Izabel. He couldn't care less about the trust fund.
"Where's the girl?" Magus asked.
"Dead.”
"Prove it."
"I can’t,” Elijah grimaced.
Magnus stepped closer and said, “Explain.”
“I can’t prove it because I don't have the body."
"But there is one?" Magnus asked.
"Yes."
"You're positive?"
“Yes.” Elijah said
. “The bitch jumped out of my ship at twelve thousand feet. Craziest fucking thing I've ever seen."
“Twelve-thousand feet?" Magnus asked.
"Yeah."
"You're positive?"
"Yes."
Magnus stroked his goatee. The chromey was right, there was no way she could survive a fall like that. But The Czar had ordered him to resolve this matter and unless he wanted to risk his wrath, then he had to make sure.
"What's the girl's last name?" Magnus demanded.
"Ramsey,” Elijah answered.
"What planet?"
"What are you gonna do? Look for a body?" Elijah scoffed.
“Yes, now answer me unless you want to become one.”
"San Andreas, Harmony district."
“Thank you,” said Magnus and then he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled as loud as he could. Elijah seemed confused until he saw they were surrounded by a circle of red glowing orbs.
"No,” rasped the kevlar addict, "You bastard."
Magnus smiled a toothy grin. The indestructible Chromey was trembling with fear because he had been a werewolf poacher before settling into security.
The red orbs belonged to brown hairy beasts with enormous fangs known as Bloodhowls. Pelts skinned from their breed had once been he bestsellers. Now, dozens of the wolves were closing in.
Fast.
Jarl, the alpha male of the Bloodhowls, padded up to Magnus.
"Get everything you needed?" he asked.
“Bon appetit,” Magnus said.
Jarl gave the order and the pack pounced. Despite his fear, Elijah didn't hesitate. He launched himself at his closest attackers. The chromey must've hit his target because Magnus heard two yelps.
"Who's next?" taunted Elijah. "I could use a new rug.”
Elijah’s powerful fists were a flurry of deadly motion. Only one yelp this time. Werewolves were quick learners. Elijah managed to crush one of the wolves’ snouts but then it was all over. There were just too many of them. The pack tore him to pieces. Their teeth ground against the metal. Elijah screamed until his throat was ripped out or maybe it was his tongue. It was impossible to tell with that much carnage.
