In less than a second, Sergeant Odwal had been killed and I'd been taken out of the fight completely, and no known backup was on the way. I was supposed to call in the skirmish but had gotten so caught up that now no one was coming to help. I'm sure it'd been reported, but I had no idea of what the response time might be.
“Oh god,” I groaned, “please… please don't let it happen like this…”
I gazed toward the sky and noticed the first few stars appearing to signal the coming night. Then I simply sat down and looked ahead to see who'd shot the both of us…
A stranger adorned with the tattoo of a snake scrawled hideously across his face approached wielding an M9 and nodded to the other gang members who'd arrived from the club as a way of telling them the area was clear. His lightweight body armor was also modeled after a snake's skin… dude's obsession with the animal was on a totally different level.
“Well, well, looks like we got a motherfuckin' hero…” The gunmen stood before me, wearing a malicious smile, and pressed the cold barrel of his weapon against my head. He then briefly looked at Odwal's corpse before scowling and giving it a hard kick. “You must not be from around here, baby—don't you realize what the fuckin' Citadel is—or what it used to be?! —Ah shut the fuck up, it was a bloody battleground!” He spat in my face. “Cops have no authority in some dominions, because there's still kings like us vying for power, and one day we'll take it from you bastards in our conquest!”
“Ay, Sikes. You got one of them still alive over there?” Another voice resounded from the other side of the vehicle.
“Hell yeah, my man,” Sikes responded, “we been given a present; this one's fine as hell—I can't wait to see what she got underneath all tha—”00
“Fuck you, punk!” I spat on his shoes and glared at him defiantly. I wouldn’t submit!
Sikes scowled again and slammed his pistol against the side of my face.
He took his other hand and grabbed my head so that he could press it hard against the concrete and forced his mouth against my ear. “Oh yeah,” he whispered creepily, “this is MY territory, miss! I like it when they fight; I wish they were all like this one. Sexy legs, sexy face… sexy everything…”
I shuddered violently and prepared to strike; I could smell a putrid odor coming from his mouth. It seemed like he just kept pushing my head in with more force as he put down his weapon and started unbuckling his belt.
That's it. I had enough state of mind to figure out what I would have to do.
“Ay boys, cover me real quick while I do some business here.” Sikes chuckled in a repugnant manner. I saw glass shards on the ground near me. “Don't worry; ya'll gonna get your turns later—I'll make it quick, promise.” I picked up the largest one, clutching it in rage as scarlet flowed from my functioning hand.
The pain was gone now.
I heard shrieking behind me, and Sikes eased up for a moment—And so I turned and sprung up with all my strength, staring him in his eyes, which had widened in fear as I rapidly shoved him and simultaneously slashed open his cheek! I stepped forward; he raised his arms to defend himself, but I plunged the glass shard into his jugular with unmatched aggression! Over and over again, blood spraying across my face and clothes as Sikes stuttered and choked and hopelessly grasped at his neck.
Pussy.
I looked to my left, knowing my life was over now.
A pistol was inches away from my face and held in the shaking hands of a stunned henchman. I thought that was it, but then I saw…
You. Tavon. With those same dark eyes, seeming to glow in that moment, you appeared behind the shooter. Time stopped, the surrounding area grew silent and encapsulated by a certain darkness. You calmly snapped his neck like he was just some doll and pushed his body away from you without effort.
My adrenaline took over and dominated my conscious thought. Although you’d killed Sikes’ other ally before claiming the shooter, the two who’d arrived from the club were aiming at you. I reacted by jumping on your figure, pushing you down, and grabbing the weapon of the man you’d killed as I quickly staggered to my feet. I sidestepped them as they fired, and then I shot. Once. Twice.
I killed them both, one taking a bullet to the chest while the other was downed with a round delivered through his forehead. I saved you, because I’m a damn good markswoman.
-
Janelle
-
“I'll always remember that. You killed him without hesitation—the look in your eyes was so… it was fucking terrifying, Tavon.”
Tavon scratched his head in embarrassment. “I'm surprised you even remembered that guy's name, ‘Sikes,’ and I thought the look in your eyes was much scarier, if we’re being honest.”
“It wasn’t right.” Aaliyah looked down. “I took his life in a brutal way. It affected me, but you were able to kill so calmly—like you didn’t care.”
He took a sip from his cup and shrugged. Tavon looked to her hand that had been previously wounded, noticing now only a mass of scar tissue having been partially regenerated through modern medicine. Biological specialists regrew tissue in isolated cultures before implanting them to fill the space of a particular injury. He studied her hand, feeling welling up within him, as imagining the ones we care for enduring significant pain can often remind us of our more protective natures.
“I didn't care,” he said, “they wanted to rape you, Aaliyah. Why would people who do what they do be good to keep around in the world? Literal 'snakes' caught in a stupid game…”
“But it's not about that!” She leaned forward. “From the first day as a regular Zone cop, they train you to incapacitate; they don't train you to make that kind of call.”
Tavon winked at her. “Well, then I guess it's a good thing I'm not a cop. Besides… do you really think that someone like Sikes could ever be 'rehabilitated?' Are you really about to tell me that you were the first person he tried to hurt that way?”
“I'm damn sure I wasn't, but still… I didn't sign up to kill everyone who commits a sin. That's against everything I believe in, because only the bad guys are usually desperate enough to lodge a bullet in someone's brain. I've got to think higher than that, Tavon.”
“So, the only difference between you and Sikes was your level of desperation?”
“Hell naw—that's not the only difference, Tavon. You know there's more to it than that; don't play games right now when the story's just getting decent!”
Aaliyah reached across the table and grabbed his hand to hold it in hers. “I like the way you listen.”
Tavon sighed. “You don't believe any murder can be justified, do you—even though you ended those guys yourself?”
“I didn't say that; I meant that a person's life has got to add up to more purpose than being put down in the streets like an animal, Tavon… I mean, something had to have made people survive this long for a reason.”
“You're saying this because of the Sergeant. Odwal's death still bothers you; I can understand that. Probably better than anyone can.”
Aaliyah didn't say anything and merely looked toward the ground.
“Ah well,” Tavon continued, somewhat cheerfully, “I'm sure he was a remarkable person, and he went out doing what he had to do. If only the rest of Sikes’ crew would’ve just surrendered…
-
Tavon
-
You turned really pale after watching Sikes become a cold and lifeless shell of his former self. He was trying to hold on but kept gagging on his own blood, looking to us as if his eyes were pleading for help.
I rapidly looked him over, analyzing:
Fuck! Wrong target again! That’s what I was thinking, but I can’t say everything out loud.
“Who the hell are you?!” you demanded, and it was kind of annoying.
I grunted a response while tearing away some fabric from Sikes' clothes. I turned to you and remember getting slapped in the face because the first response I had was to grab your arm to inspect the bulle
t wounds.
“Sheesh! I'm trying to help. You’re in shock. Relax!”
“I'm not some toy you can just move around! Get the hell off me!”
You slapped me again, but I kept checking your arm and hand to make sure the rounds weren't stuck in your body. You kept trying to jerk away from me, and I felt your palm collide against my cheek once more as I wrapped your wounds and ensured they were compressed as tightly as possible to prevent the continuous blood flow.
In the distance, I heard an engine rev…
The bearded man you were speaking about just so happened to be someone I was looking for. My target, Clyde Powell, who coincidentally looked a lot like Sikes, was placed into the vehicle by Kip, who shifted to the driver's seat!
Powell. Real name: Clyde Oliviet.
He was target number four—after the last two had been almost laughably easy. So far, I'd been thinking about quitting Angelos altogether. But Oliviet… he reminded me why I do what I do.
Oliviet had been small time robber; an amateur thief eventually turned killer once he started believing that murdering homeowners made it easier to steal from them. He targeted a few wealthier members of the Mid-City and managed to make some decently stacked scores before he was forced to change his identity due to attention from the authorities.
Powell became Oliviet and moved to an obscure set of Projects somewhere in the Lower-City, making small kills for profit. Not surprisingly, in some districts of the Quadrants resides several individuals with minds twisted enough to order hits on other ordinary people for very little reason other than petty disagreements and community bias. Oliviet found his niche in individuals like this, exploiting the deluded desires of malicious people.
As a result, his victims ranged from elderly women to young adults who were coming up in the world. He'd started killing indiscriminately and was, by all means, becoming rich by acting on others’ vices in the Citadel.
Although he'd taken steps to protect himself, Oliviet had exposed himself once again; I was making sure that this would be the last time he made that mistake. Even if he wasn't necessarily strong, Oliviet was an evil worth removing from the world…
“Shit!”
I got to my feet in time to secure a seat in the police cruiser and attempted to start the engine, but the vehicle had all but been destroyed and didn't respond to any of my efforts! In the background, I could hear sirens and knew I was running out of time to finish off Oliviet!
-
Janelle
-
“But why were you even there?!” Aaliyah exclaimed.
Tavon thought for a moment before putting together his answer. He couldn't just tell her… it was too soon—and she was with the Bureau.
“Eh… Clyde owed my manager some money that he'd come short on in the last month…
“Uh huh… right.” She glared at him.
-
Tavon
-
I made a rapid decision to hop into one of the shooters' unautomated cruisers, which was already running and ready to go. On the radio, they'd been listening to some song by the Mary Jane Girls—a group of singers from some time ages past. I think it was “All Night Long…” it's been getting a lot of remixed versions put out in some clubs lately so best believe I somewhat recognized it.
In the center console, there remained a semi-automatic pistol that hadn't yet been used with “Sikes” inscribed on its left side close to the safety switch affixed to 'off'. Before I was even able to drive after Clyde, your crazy ass got in the passenger side still clutching your bleeding hand!
“What the hell are you doing, girl?!”
“Don't look at me—drive! I ain't about to let them make me look like a scrub, and I just saved your life!”
I hesitated for a second, and then before I knew it you were pointing the barrel of a pistol at my head.
You said, “I'm not playin' with you! Drive, or I'mma bust you like the rest of his crew. What, you wanna sit behind bars, too?”
I shook my head and cursed before accelerating to catch up with the mobsters. Almost just as quickly, you put the gun down and stared straight ahead.
At that point, I knew I'd finally met someone with almost as many issues as me…
It didn't take long before we closed some of the distance. We’d followed them through every wild turn possible, shifting through narrow openings between tall structures and soaring under a bridge to slowly connect onto the nearest hyper rail. Hyper rails conducted a kind of magnetic force which allowed for smoother travel throughout the Citadel.
Our chase thus led us to a dense onslaught of Mid-City traffic, and I reduced the cruiser's speed as I struggled to avoid crashing into the vessels of other passengers and proceeded to weave in and out just to maintain our very limited line of sight.
Oliviet was more careless.
The shooter failed to pass up a vehicle next to him and so abruptly slammed into the driver, causing the passengers to veer off and violently collide with someone else. Both of those vehicles quickly plummeted downward but then rebounded upward after colliding with the hyper rail and crashed into several other traveling cruisers before being pulled back toward the rail.
“Fucking disaster…” You shook you head.
I floored our way to the left and flew off the hyper rail in order to circumvent everyone else and gain some ground on Clyde. In response, Oliviet inspected his rear-view mirror and simply accelerated skyward to move over the flat roof of a building belonging to a hotel, which itself was suspended in the air by a group of powered jets.
“Do you even have a license to use this?” you asked after bumping my shoulder to get my attention. I'd been quiet for some time, attempting to find a way to “safely” wreck into my target.
“Yeah!” I didn't have a license.
“Who the fuck even are you?! You just-just killed…”
And I didn't need everybody I met knowing who I am.
I kept my focus and replied, “Don't worry about it.”
I drove to make an arc around the side of the hotel before flying upward to bring us slightly closer to Clyde.
The mobsters passed a billboard depicting a celebrity known as Captain Solar drinking a martini before careening onto another, less crowded highway. It amazed me that you were able to simply grind your teeth and push through the pain of your injuries; I'm guessing that it must've been some kind of adrenaline rush but I definitely respected it.
Not long after we'd been in pursuit, you realized something.
“Hey, get in closer so I can read their license tags,” you said, “I still have my own personal radio that I can use to call it in so they'll be tracked even if they manage to lose us!”
“But they won't lose us…”
You looked at me like I was the biggest ass you'd ever met before inquiring, “How do you know that?”
“I'm that good—stop asking so many damn questions.”
I accelerated in order to close the distance, but Clyde's cruiser seemed to be slightly faster; he was able to keep quite a bit of ground between us as we sped our approach. Kip revved the engine and determinedly veered to the far right, clipping the front of another cruiser and narrowly avoiding what could've been a fatal crash with a larger vehicle carrying cargo.
Kip quickly shifted onto an exit from the rail before flying off the road altogether and dove down again, increasing his speed even more across a sparser expanse! In order to play catch up once again, I merely worked the stick shift on the cruiser to soar above everyone else and attempted to hover over our target's silhouette below.
“Get ready to make a mental note!”
I flew downward at maximum velocity in order to obtain a brief view of their license plates. As we picked up speed, the air around us became a heavy barrage constantly pressing itself against the vehicle before I slowly brought us to a position level with the target.
“I got it!” You shouted in relief. “25-H;N09—Stay on them while I send it up on the ra
dio!”
“Hmm. Actin' like you run things now…”
Kip and Clyde—which also happens to be a quaint name pairing—were now taking us into the depths of the Lower-City’s Third Quadrant. We followed them onto a hyper rail that had been left to degrade on its own and contained barely any traffic other than several older model cruisers and buses.
In the background, I could hear you reporting in to your chain of command:
“HQ. HQ! Do you read me, over? This is Corporal Aaliyah; I'm in pursuit of a suspect involved in code 2016-A (Citadel code name for 'Shooting') in Zone F…”
Someone was uttering responses on the other end that I couldn't make out, but they seemed to understand and prompted you for the license number. You finished reading it off from memory, but just as they asked you to repeat it once more I suddenly noticed a dark shape emerge from the driver's side window of Clyde's cruiser. Without aiming at all, Oliviet began firing a barrage of rounds from an assault rifle—some of which grazed the roof of our cruiser while others diverged and shattered nearby windows of nearby buildings. At the same moment, two other vehicles pulled up alongside us; I looked to the left to see a figure in a mask staring back at me with a double barrel shotgun tucked between his arms.
“Now that we're in the Lower-City, we really are in somebody else's territory!” I shouted as I drew an advanced revolver I'd brought along for the ride.
Before the shooter to my left was able to bring up his weapon to fire, I reacted by driving us into him and attempting to push the new arrival into an apartment complex. In response, the enemy driver careened to the left and ascended skyward to avoid us—but I soared in pursuit.
The best tactic was to be more aggressive than them.
I moved forward slightly before crashing the top of our cruiser into the bottom of theirs and sending them staggering back as part of a malfunction of the internal engine. Before I could do anything else, what seemed like a volt of energy collided with the passenger side of our cruiser and pushed us through the window of a large casino. We flew forward and broke through another glass panel to the outside, and the right-side door suddenly broke off. You were thrown from your seat!
Angelos Odyssey Page 19
