by Chris Sapp
Magnus watched a pair of wolves fight over his right arm while two others played tug of war with his left leg. Three more had laid down next to Elijah’s torso where they could leisurely rip out his intestines. His kevlar coated flesh crunched in their jaws and his blood matted their fur. Two of the bloodhowls were rolling on their backs in a pool of the chromey’s blood.
One of the wolves pranced up to Jarl and Magnus. Elijah’s head was gripped between its powerful jaws. The wolf deposited the head with a thunk and then returned to the feeding frenzy.
"I really appreciate this Slade. We've been looking for this bastard for a long time,” said Jarl, as he hiked his leg and urinated on Elijah’s face.
"Uh...sure, no problem,” Magnus had to step aside to avoid the splatter.
The feeding was over and his goal had been attained. He turned towards his ship and then he turned back.
"Oh yeah, there’s briefcase with a million credits somewhere on that ship. Find it and it's all yours."
"Much obliged,” Jarl lowered his leg, satisfied that both his desire for revenge and his urge to urinate had been quenched.
When Magnus reached his ship, he heard the wolves give a unified victory howl to Fahrenheit's solitary moon. It was the most bone chilling sound he had ever heard and he was thankful when the hatch finally closed. He fired up the engines and thought about how he was going to find the rockstar's bastard. She most likely was dead, considering the height of the fall. But he'd hire a bounty hunter just to be safe. One that knew everything there was to know about surviving death.
ROE
THE FENIXBORN WAS running out of air. His lungs felt like they were going to explode into fire embers inside his chest and why shouldn't they? They'd been deprived of oxygen for nearly six minutes. Roe was trapped underwater inside a cage constructed out of coral. The same coral that Merfolk used to fashion their spears and tridents. This cage was bolted to the floor of a swimming pool in some asshole’s backyard. It was designed to mimic the coral webs found on Aquila, the Merfolk home world. Roe could swim through the opening at the top of the cage if he wanted, but that would forfeit the fight and the prize. Six thousand credits. To claim the credits all he had to do was beat the other two guys trapped in the cage with him. One was a Blacktail, who currently had Roe in a choke-hold from behind. The merman’s pale skin was a stark contrast to his raven hair, ebony scales, and coal colored eyes. Roe kept the other fighter, a brown haired Minotaur, at bay with his feet. He jammed a talon into one of the minotaur's yellow eyes. The Minotaur screamed in agony. The sound was absorbed by the water and reproduced as bubbles.
Roe threw his head back, hoping to connect with the blacktail's nose. No such luck, the merman was too smart for that. He tightened his hold on Roe's neck. The Blacktail’s arms were corded with muscle and very strong. It was like wrestling a squid. The merman’s strategy was simple; drown the air-breather.
The Minotaur had recovered from Roe’s kick and pushed himself off the cage horns-first. Roe saw only two options and neither one was very appealing. Either the Minotaur was going to succeed in disemboweling him or he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen. If he wanted to survive this, it was now or never. Roe waited until he could see the minotaur's pupils before making his move. Tucking his knees to his chest, he rolled forward with all his might. Instead of letting go, the merman came with him, which is exactly what Roe wanted. The minotaur's horns entered the blacktail's back and exited his abdomen in spectacular fashion. Roe pulled himself free of the merman's grasp and swam for the cage. Covering the outside of the cage, like bees on a hive, were fans. Most were Merfolk but there were also minotaurs, ogres, a vampyr of two, and a few elves present. Roe found the nearest one, a green skinned ogre, but before he could explain what he wanted the ogre removed his own oxygen mask and shoved it onto Roe’s beak. The rush of cold air going down his throat and into his lungs was exhilarating. Roe knew he should look around before he got gored from behind but the oxygen tasted so sweet it was like tasting sugar for the first time.
The ogre motioned for Roe to return the mask, and he complied, mouthing his appreciation. Turning, he put his back against the cage and searched the arena for his enemies. He saw the Blacktail instantly. Mouth agape, eyes open, and floating belly up. The water around him was tainted red. But where was the Minotaur? Had he left? No, why would he do that? He was one kill away from six thousand credits. A hard knot suddenly formed in the pit of his stomach. He had stopped for air halfway to the top of the cage. Which meant, that the Minotaur was probably above him. But was he getting air or the upper-hand? Roe took a quick glance up.
Damn! The bastard was diving right for him. Roe lunged forward into the arena, pressing off the cage with his feet. He escaped, but not unscathed. One of the minotaur's horns had tore into his left foot. He looked down to assess the damage. His foot was dangling by a tendon or two. The tattered ends of flesh glowed like hot coal and smoke spewed out of the wound and clouded the water. Fenixborns didn’t bleed…they smoldered. His proficient immune system would reattached the limb but the healing process was going to take a few minutes.
Street brawling for credits was a dangerous business but also a lucrative one. Roe had no desire to go pro, he just did it in between collaring strays to make some extra scratch. He wanted to have plenty of credits when he started his new life. Most people only lived and died once, Fenixborns did it twice. If Roe were to die during this cage match, his body would burn instead of decompose and he’d be reborn out of the ashes. The only catch was that once you were reborn you had no memories of who you were before. But the loss of memories and the need to create an entirely new identity was exactly what Roe craved. Eight years ago he’d lost the love of his life Wren McCready. She was a casualty of the Morphagen War, a conflict she’d never even fought in. He admired anyone who found the strength to go on living after losing a loved one. Fenixborns were supposed to be able to recover from anything. But he couldn’t recover from this. So, as soon as his debt to Magnus Slade was paid, he was going to punch his own ticket, thus hitting the reset button on his miserable his life.
Unless the Minotaur punched it for him first.
Roe kicked with his good leg and kept his eyes on his competition. The Minotaur hadn't escaped their collision unscathed either. His left horn hung limply against the side of his head. Good. Now, Roe had the advantage because in another forty-seconds his foot was going to be as good as new and the Minotaur would stroll around with one horn for the rest of his days. Roe risked a quick glance at his foot. The water was clouded with soot. Grimacing against the pain, he shook his leg and saw that the skin was still split but the bone and muscles had already reattached themselves. Halfway there.
Pushing off the cage, the Minotaur charged. Healed or not the enemy was coming. Roe didn't flee nor did he back pedal. He had a plan. The Minotaur stopped just short of striking distance and begin to swim a circle around his opponent. Apparently he'd learned his lesson on charging. Roe swam in a counter circle. To the onlookers, it must have looked like the two combatants were performing the closing act of an underwater ballet. Tired of the games and short on oxygen, the Minotaur feigned to the right and then charged, good-horn first. Roe was ready. He quickly secured the Minotaur in a headlock and ripped the gold nose ring out of his nostrils. Bubbled screams and blood filled the water around them. Roe discarded the nose ring and begin to pound his fist into his enemy's face. The Minotaur bucked and tried to pull away. Roe held on.
The Minotaur punched and clawed and still Roe held on. Roe knew that he couldn't hold on forever. The Minotaur outweighed him by a hundred pounds. Eventually he would break free. Roe started the final phase of his plan by seizing the minotaur's bad horn and ripping it free. Another bubbled scream and another wave of blood. Roe used the horn to gouge out the minotaur's throat. There was no bubbled scream but there was blood, a lot of it. Roe didn't stop gouging until his victim stopped struggling. Minotaurs were stubborn creatures. It took a
while. With both enemies slain, Roe swam towards the top of the cage. Towards air and his prize.
He swam through the opening at the top of the cage and out. He kept swimming until he broke the surface of the water. Air filled his lungs and a vigorous applause filled his ears. Dozens of fight fans, dressed in expensive suits were standing poolside. They had watched the match on of three 100 inch mobi-vids that floated clockwise around the pool. Roe climbed out and two faeries draped a towel over him. Still dripping wet, Roe approached the bar. A massive black ogre was behind the counter.
"Like swat'n flies, huh Driskell?” asked the Ogre.
"Effects and payment,” said Roe, placing the severed Minotaur horn on the counter. The bartender stacked Roe’s six thousand credits on the counter. Sitting on top of the stack was a gold wedding band. Roe slid the ring onto the appropriate claw and pocketed the credits.
"You wanna sell the ivory?" asked the bartender, greedily eyeing the horn.
"Yeah, I’ll take two packs of Fenix Tails,” Roe said.
"It's cracked. I'll give ya one," he said after examining the horn.
“Alright. Then I’ll just keep it. Maybe someone else will want it more,” Roe said.
Scoffing, the bartender took the horn and retrieved two packs of Fenix tails from the shelf behind him.
“You have a good day,” Roe said. He took his payment and followed the sidewalk to the wooden gate on the side of the house.
As he unlatched the gate, he heard the bartender say,
"Step right up ladies and gentlemen. Come see Roe Driskell's latest instrument of death. Five credits to touch it and fifty to buy."
He opened the gate, pretending not to hear that he'd just been ripped off.
He froze twenty paces from where his cruiser was parked. The ramp had been lowered and Vi was leaning against one of the support pillars.
“Impressive Driskell, but I don’t think the boss would approve of his favorite bounty hunter participating in street brawls?” she said. Roe’s jaw clenched. What was she doing here? How the hell had she unlocked his cruiser?
“What I do with my free time is none of Lord Slade’s business,” Roe said.
“If you were to die in one of these skirmishes, you’d have no recollection of your agreement with us,” Vi said.
“I’m sure you’d remind me,” Roe said. “Why are you following me?”
“Boss’ orders. He’s got a stray elf that needs collaring,” Vi said, retrieving a scroll from inside her vest.
“A Scroll? Why didn’t he just send a datapac?” Roe took the scroll from Vi. Unrolled it. Read it.
“Because this is a priority one. Plus, I wanted to see your face when you read the details on your last stray,” Vi said. Roe’s jaw clenched and a hard knot formed in his stomach. His last stray was a 17 year old girl.
“No. I don’t collar minors or females, this one’s both.” He handed the scroll back to her and started up the ramp.
“Drop the nobility act Driskell. You’re a fucking bounty hunter. Besides after you punch your ticket you’re not going to remember shit like this anyway,” Vi said.
“I said no.”
“Then add another 200 strays to the arrangement,” she hollered up at him. Roe stopped about half way up the ramp. He turned and glared down at her.
“I think I’ll terminate the agreement and you two can go fuck yourselves. That’s what I think,” Roe said.
“Talk like that could land you in the Crucible,” Vi said.
"Perfect. I win. I go free."
She laughed.
“If that’s what you want, it can be arranged,” Vi said. Roe heard the familiar sound of a shotgun being racked. He glanced behind him. Petro was standing at the top of the ramp. Both of his eyes and the gun’s barrel were glaring at him.
“But remember,” Vi said. “You'll be running it with the strays you arrested. You really think any of them are gonna let you get out alive?"
She was right. He'd never make it and Slade would ruin his new life because he died before he could fulfill his agreement. He sighed deeply.
“Give it to me,” Roe said.
Smiling, Vi placed the scroll into his open palm. Roe quickly cross-checked the name Izabel Ramsey with the current detox list on his data pad.
“What’s the charge?” Roe asked.
“Detox,”
“But she’s not even on the list,” he said.
“Relax Driskell, she’s probably already dead,” Vi said. “But if she’s not, then she’ll be on that list by the time you find her.” Vi said and then she walked away. Roe just shook his head. He didn’t know what this elf had done to warrant the wrath of Magnus Slade and he didn’t want to know. All that mattered was that she was the last stray he ever had to collar.
IZABEL
WHEN IZABEL WOKE up she expected to be dead. Instead she was looking up the snout of an ogre. Her first thought was Spanky. But that couldn't be right because Spanky wouldn't be caught dead with pink painted tusks.
"The falling elf girl is alive,” stated the ogress with the pink tusks.
Izabel sat up and looked around. She was in a cargo hold, yes, another one. But this one still had its escape pods and most importantly there was no Elijah.
"Ha! I told you she wasn't dead. Now pay up,” demanded a Quicksilver balancing on an Air-board. He was young and so was the Minotaur he was talking to. In fact, they all were and each one had an Air-board either tucked under an arm or slung over a shoulder. Great! I've been saved by Air-board punks.
Now that she was over the shock of not being dead, she realized that the ogress looked nothing like Spanky. She was only about five foot tall, much shorter than the nine to ten feet of an average adult. Also, her tusks were much smaller.
"How'd you fall out of the sky?" Pink Tusks asked.
"She fell off a building, duh,” said the Quicksilver, skipping his board off the ship’s hull.
"Maybe she jumped?" ventured the Minotaur.
"It wasn't a building. It was a ship,” Izabel said as she stood up. All of her muscles screamed in protest.
"Look at that nose and her ear. I bet she was hitchin' a ride and got caught,” Pink Tusks accused .
Izabel looked at the Ogress. Were her tusks bigger? They looked like they had grown fives inches in the last minute.
"A stowaway! Cool!" grinned the Minotaur. Izabel noticed that he was missing a few teeth.
"I'm not a stowaway. I jumped off the ship on purpose."
"Jumped?" the Quicksilver was so surprised he nearly fell off his board. "But we were up--"
"Twelve thousand feet,” Pink Tusks answered. She was still glaring at Izabel.
Twelve thousand feet? Holy shit. By all accounts she should be dead. "Which one of you saved me?"
"I did,” Pink Tusks answered. Of course it had been her.
"Hell yeah she did. Snatched you right of mid air. It was the coolest trick ever tricked on an airboard,” admired the Quicksilver.
“Definitely,” concurred the Minotaur.
"Thank you,” Izabel told the ogress.
Her savior scoffed and then got up and left the room.
A few minutes later, Izabel was examining herself in the bathroom mirror. She was a mess. Her ear was still attached. Barely. Her nose was broken, both eyes were black, and it'd take weeks to heal but at least it had stopped hurting. Her clothes were dirty and tattered. She'd ripped a hole in her left boot, big enough to see her toes. Fucking Elijah. These were her favorite shoes. But all of that was superficial. The real problem was that she had no morphagens and no credits. Every single morphagen purchase was logged into a computer database and monitored by the Morphagen Order. It was now 5:23 in the afternoon. Her last fix had been around nine o'clock the previous night. If she didn't buy another morphagen dose in the next three and half hours, the system would automatically flag her as "late" and put her name on the "Detox List". Then every bounty hunter in the galaxy would come looking for her. W
ith the way her luck was going she would end up on that bounty hunter Tv show Grundy’s Grind.
When she came out of the bathroom, she found that the airboard punks had migrated to the galley. They were cooking dinner and it smelled absolutely wonderful. She couldn't remember when she'd eaten last. This morning? Last night? Before Spanky's? Her stomach remembered and it announced that it was well past time in the form of a cramp that nearly doubled her over. She wanted to eat. She needed to eat. But she needed a fix more and Morphagen Tower was always busy. If she didn't get in line soon, she wouldn't make it.
"Sit down. Eat,” said the Quicksilver as his tongue lapped up a creamy soup of some kind.
"I can't. I need a fix."
"So go ahead,” Pink Tusks bit into a steak sandwich. Blood, from the raw meat, soaked the moldy bread and dripped onto the plate. Maggots squirmed out of the sandwich and ran across the Ogress’ large hands. She didn't seem to notice. But Izabel did and suddenly she wasn't very hungry.
"I don't have any morphagens on me. I need a lift...to Morphagen Tower.”
"I'll do it,” volunteered, the Minotaur chewing on a stalk of celery.
"I don't have any credits either. I'll have to find something at home to barter with,” Izabel said.
"Don't do it, Vic," warned the ogress. "The girl is trouble."
"I'm not trouble."
"What else would you call it? You're running from something and whatever it is, it don't concern us."
Izabel took a deep breath. "You're right I was in trouble. But I'm not anymore. Elijah probably thinks I'm dead."
"Who's Elijah?" asked the Minotaur.
"A bounty hunter, most likely. She's probably on the detox list,” Pink Tusks said. Her accusing glare was back.
"I'm not on the list. Not yet. But I will be if I don't get another dose in three and half hours."
"Then who's Elijah?" asked the ogress, still not convinced.
Izabel told them everything. She told them about Elijah, about the trust fund, even her relationship to Phaelan. She started crying when she got to the part about the suicide video but she didn't care. She just kept talking. She knew they wouldn't believe her. It was too outrageous. In fact, her little story would probably be enough to propel her new friend right into an ogre rage. At least she wouldn't be murdered by Elijah and her ears would be digested instead kept as souvenirs.
