by David Tyne
"Their group was a way for us to survive, at first. Then Mitchell spoke about our blood, how we still had a purpose in life. In that kind of group, with the world turning to shit around us... It all just started making sense."
He paused, almost trying to suppress the blood rushing through his veins. After a long moment of staring at his wrist, he shook his head with visible regret.
“Being O-Negative didn’t make me a murderer. But it sure as hell messed me up, to the point where I didn’t question what I was doing. Seeing you guys now, I wish I fucking had.”
I glanced over at Tomás, who was equally astonished to hear such a wordy admission of guilt. I couldn't help but chuckle, forgetting for a moment that we were still in stealth mode and trapped half a dozen levels underground.
"Hey, at least you know that you’re fucked up! I don't know anyone who isn’t these days."
“D-Didn’t you hear me?” I heard him choke behind me. “I killed innocent people, you shouldn’t associate with—”
“I don’t know about any of that, dude... but you saved my life once. Saved my friends, even though you could’ve killed them too. The way I see it, we owe you one.”
It was strange to hear him laugh for the first time, even if it was veiled under a weak mumble. Reaching the top of the staircase, I stopped my fellow escapees and pushed them against the stone wall.
Two beanie-wearing thugs passed the door that hid us. We waited for them to turn the corner before rushing out into the main area of the dimly-lit factory.
I wriggled my cuffed hands uncomfortably, trying to find a less agonising position. "Jeez, just how many of these arseholes are holed up in this place?"
The musician shook his head, unknowing."Way more than the last time I was here. Doesn't matter, one of them has to know where Belle is. Once we get someone alone, we’ll— Wait!"
Apparently something caught his attention mid-sentence, as he steered hard to the left and disappeared through a metal door which had been left ajar. I opened it slightly to see Tomás gently caressing his guitar, Señora Alegría with his calloused fingers.
"Sssh, cariño. It's okay, Daddy's back..." He must have sensed the many eyes carefully scanning him, as he turned slowly and looked up to meet their gaze. We weren't alone.
A group of seven or so spectators had been crammed into a small jail of a cupboard, peering through a tiny boxed window at us. Tomás laughed nervously and placed his beloved guitar back into its metal casing, trying to play off the fact that he was just talking to himself.
After pondering the musician's sanity, one of the cupboard dwellers spoke up. "Help us... Please! You're not with them, are you? The key's on the other side, on that table! Let us out!! I don't want to fight that... that thing!"
Without any hesitation, the former O-Saint nabbed the key and was about to dash over to unlock the makeshift jail cell. In that same moment, the two men we'd narrowly avoided in the hall barged through the entrance, realising that something was going down.
"Oi, ain’t you s’posed ta be fightin’ downstairs?! What the fu—"
They didn't get to finish, as Tomás socked the burly one in the jaw with his guitar case, as graceful as ever. I could tell how ecstatic he was to have found it again — much like a third arm, he swung Señora Alegría right into the goon’s back, knocking him to the ground.
Grumpy rushed straight into the fray, jamming his elbow under the gang member’s chin; the hold seemed to have a paralysing effect on his victim. Trying to squirm free, a swift chop to the back of the neck made his eyes flutter shut. The pressure point must’ve shut him down entirely, losing consciousness within seconds.
Tomás, the prisoners and I stared in awe at the efficiency of the take-down, as though we were watching a martial arts demo. "Wha... What was— I mean, dude... I don't even know your name!" I blurted out.
Grumpy tightened his bloody headband, and couldn't help but let a cold smirk spread across his face. "...Yeah. Let's keep it that way."
28 | The Musician’s Contract
As we let the prisoners out one by one, I couldn’t help but notice that most of them were middle-aged women; the others were two students around my age and one lovely old lady. I dreaded to think of what would happen, if they really were supposed to be put in the same ring we’d narrowly escaped from.
Once they were all free, almost every pair of eyes stared in my direction with pity and mild confusion. I began to feel self-conscious, until realising once again that it was because of my unfashionable choice of clothing.
"T-These are the only shorts I have, alright? There's more important stuff going on right now!" Tired of defending my unsightly-beige bottoms, I glanced awkwardly over to Tomás, letting him take the reigns. He had to hush their murmurs and grateful praises, while I tried to furiously pry my chafing handcuffs off.
"It's okay, you're all free to go now. Before you do though... Has anyone heard about a girl called Belle? Long black hair, mocha like me? Voice of an angel, kinda mousey, gets a cute crinkle on her nose when she's mad, no?"
Their collective silence was more drawn-out and brutal than if they’d straight-up rejected him. Tomás sighed, annoyed that he was no closer towards finding his fiancée.
"God damn it!! Someone must know where she is!"
I scraped my shackles along the back of my hands, almost like a potato peeler as I finally became free of them. Placing my near-skinless hand on Tomás' shoulder, I rotated him towards me.
"We'll find her, don't worry. We can always come back later, but for now, let’s focus on getting this lot to safety." He didn’t appreciate being delayed, but the musician seemed to understand that we had a new priority to deal with.
Approaching our nameless and silent friend once more, it gave me life to coax muted glares out of him whenever I called his nickname.
"Hey Grumpy, you ready to move out?" He simply turned to face another direction, still waiting for the rest of the prisoners to assemble outside of the metal door.
He’s going to kill me too, if I’m not careful.
"Okay then,” I huffed through bullets of sweat, “everyone, try to stick close. I know some people at the top, they can help us get out of the city. If you’re ready, let’s go!"
Tomás, Grumpy and I barrelled down the corridor, followed by the eager prisoners as we thundered our way through the maze that was the factory. After hearing some angry yells far behind, we decided to pick up the pace a little — only for us to crash straight into another running group.
We congealed together and ran side-by-side, flinching until I realised it was Millie and Serah, surprisingly accompanied by Beth.
"W-What the hell?! I told you guys to stay up there, so we could keep a low profile!" I spat at her in my distress. Millie shrugged over in Beth's direction, shifting the blame.
"Yeah, right! You slackers have been gone for hours! Beth got all worried and ran in by herself, so we had to chase after— Wait, this is what you call a low profile?" She nodded back at the group we were leading towards the exit, followed by the armed pursuers behind them.
"Not the time!! Where's the staircase?!" I yelled over the noise, letting Serah pull Tomás and myself around the corner with the rest of the plus-sized group copying our movements. We swivelled left and right through the labyrinth, building motion sickness as we went.
Thankfully, that was the last corner we’d see for a while. With everyone starting to clamber up the final staircase, we all reached towards the exit that was illuminated with warming-orange rays of light.
The dented door flew open with a bang, and the prisoners spilled out in every direction. However, it didn't take long to realise that we were still being closely followed by the underground gang.
"Get back down here, you fucking rat! I had two grand riding on your immigrant ass! Pay up!!"
I tried to close the door in time, but the majority of the gamblers from the arena burst through and raised their guns at my friends. In our defence, Millie pulled out
her rather-threatening — although empty — pump-action shotgun she'd swiped from the Aquarium. At the very least, it gave the criminals slight pause about shooting first.
"W-Woah, settle down!” Tomás tried to step up, attempting to talk his way out of the stand-off. “There's a very good reason for—" A warning shot burrowed itself into the dirt underneath his feet, making him jump backwards in a panic.
"Heh... Well, lookie here... If it ain't Tricky Tommy!” A scarred face from the front of the gang spoke up, apparently their leader. “Last we seen of you, ol' Banksie bought your contract for a hefty sum! Slippery bastard, you didn't run out on him or nothin', did ya?"
There was a moment of silence, and then Tomás' face lit up mischievously.
"Ah... 'Course not! Boss sent me back here for another deal, obviously... Your newbies gave me a right good scare, slinging me in for another fight!" Tomás laughed jokingly, and Serah shimmied to his side with a tense smile.
"Yeah, you boys need to get it right." The med student forced a cough, glancing behind at the prisoners with obvious fear in her eyes for their safety. She pointed behind her back so that the gang couldn't see, motioning to our right. "At least nobody got hurt. We're all in the same boat now. Let's not rush ahead to anything drastic... and talk about this."
As I pondered her curious inflections, I drifted my gaze causally to the right, where the factory ended and the fishing docks began. There was a single, large yacht floating in the harbour, and I could just barely see the brightly-coloured hiker's backpack resting against the cabin door, along with a watchful Harry and Jamie.
I realised what Serah was doing; as did one of the prisoners, who passed the message along to the others. One by one, the group started creeping towards the right, just subtly enough.
I held Beth out of danger’s way and a few of us started veering off to the left, drawing the gang's attention away. They were none the wiser, still feeding into Tomás’ story.
"...Another deal, ya say? You call robbing us bloody blind of our property good business?" The scarred one wasn’t having it, clicking his own gun to end the negotiations.
Tomás grinned in spite of him, opening his guitar case to reveal the large sum of money he'd swiped from North Queensferry.
"We both made mistakes in there, pal. All Banksie wants to do is purchase the arena fighters you’ve been hiding from him. Been looking to set up a similar gig over at the Aquarium. This amount should cover it, but he says he'll send more once everything settles."
The gang member kept his pistol trained on our group, while we nervously awaited his response. After what seemed like an eternity, he slid the firearm back into his trousers.
"Ain’t like we’ve got much of a show now, after you cost us that Fenrir. Took ages to move it… Well, whatevs. No hard feelings, Tommy? That miserable old bastard doesn’t need to hear about our ‘misunderstanding’, ya hear me?"
I hated to admit it, but at least something good came from knowing Mr Banks and becoming involved in his human trafficking scheme. I was more concerned about how Tomás felt, giving away the money that his brother had died trying to procure. It was meant to buy back Belle, but instead he found himself using it to spare the lives of complete strangers.
As the ringleader nabbed every single bill out of Señora Alegría's case, a bead of sweat dribbled from Tomás' forehead. "H-Hey, since we're here and all, mind if I ask you something? As business partners?"
The ten or so gang members studied him carefully, feeling that something wasn't quite right. Their scarred boss raised his hand, giving Tomás the go-ahead.
"If you remember my brother and me, do you remember that girl we were with? Belle? Banks wanted to know how she was getting on, if you'd heard anything."
The man scratched his head, seemingly the name rung a bell. "Huh? I wouldn't know about that, we don't keep contact with our clients that often. Banks knows that weirdo policeman better than I do. Why doesn’t he just ask him instead?"
Tomás slung his fist on me to stop himself from stumbling, his grasp tightening around my shoulder. "P-Policeman? What's his name?!"
The gang member closed his eyes, shaking his head at the reaction. "...Wish ya hadn't said that, Tommy. Banks didn't send you at all, did he?"
All of the pistols were suddenly raised towards us, and I knew that there was no chance of negotiating out of this for a second time.
"Let's get out of here!!" I yelled, pushing Beth into cover in front of me as a hail of bullets pounded into the sandy dirt at our heels. I could hear them cursing and chasing after us, ultimately motivating our sprint towards the yacht that Harry had commandeered.
"Inside! The keys were in the ignition, it's all ready to go!" I heard him scream. I felt like shouting back to ask whether he knew where he was going, but in that moment, anywhere but here was an ideal choice.
I literally threw Beth into the cabin’s wall as I leapt aboard, the bullets behind us striking the side of our sea vehicle. The two girls and Tomás followed, the latter of which still being in a state of shock.
The engine started to rev up, and the gang yelled obscenities at us as we slowly pulled away — but not before I saw Sgt. Grumpyboots practically twirling through the air, landing gracefully on the boat with us.
I honestly wasn't sure whether he'd come along or not; with his inclusion and the prisoners safely huddled in the ship’s cabin, we’d managed to get everyone away from the hideout.
Once we were out of shooting range, Harry stuck his middle fingers up against the still-furious gang. I settled for sticking my tongue out, keeping it child-friendly for Beth.
"Jeez, I don't know why those guys are so pissed,” I instantly broke my own rule. “They got way more than their money’s worth. But that guy, what he said about..." I looked back at the emotionless Tomás, still not saying a word.
Jamie, having overheard the stand-off, came forward to bring up the dots we were all trying not to connect. "You... You guys said that Burkley douche used to be a police officer, right?"
I thought carefully about the possibility, and then it hit me like a ton of bricks.
"Shit. It all makes sense now... We should've seen this before." Everyone glanced at me quizzically until Serah slapped her own fist against her palm, getting the same vibe.
"Oh my gosh. Banks... and Burkley? It's so obvious that they would know each other. The bridge and the Aquarium, they were far too close for them not to have met!"
Apparently the revelation didn't help any of us relax, not Harry anyway. "You guys... I've seen first-hand what that fucking sociopath is like. If he 'bought' Belle, then it was probably because—"
The shadow of Grumpy filled us in on the last part. His voice was filled with pity for the man who was separated from his fiancée.
"...It's because she's O-Negative. Not only that, she was an O-Saint. Just like I was."
29 | Something To Fight For
Harry practically jumped on top of Grumpy, infuriated as he just noticed his presence minutes after our departure. "You... What are you doing here?! Came back for more, did ya?!"
Millie had to drag Harry backwards, which must have taken a lot of strength to pull off, scolding him for attacking the bewildered former O-Saint.
"I'm... I'm sure there's a good reason for this. Let's just hear him out first, okay? It's not like any of us are going anywhere." Grumpy thanked Millie for the opportunity, to which she blatantly told ‘the murderer’ to go fuck himself.
"You... You have to believe, I never knew Belle was your friend,” he mumbled under his breath. “It only crossed my mind, when he described her down in that room. In fact, I only remember her that well because she was one of the few girls stationed at the bridge."
Serah inhaled sharply, then steeled herself. "She... She was there, at the same time as us? While Tomás was less than a mile away, in that Aquarium?!"
Grumpy stopped for a moment, considering all of the details we were throwing at him, then nodded. "I can tell you tho
ugh, she survived the attack from those helicopters. I've never spoken to her, so I can't say for certain whether she believes in all of the O-Saint stuff... Wherever she is now, she must have set sail with Burkley and the surviving members."
Harry rolled up his sleeves, angered at the correlation between Tomás' soul mate and the blood cult. “Bullshit! I’d remember seeing her back there... You’re just making that up, so we don’t throw your ass overboard!”
“We were all there,” Millie yelled, pulling on Harry’s collar. “None of us saw her. She probably tried to hide— Hey!!” She couldn't hold him back on her own, and I had to step in to restrain him. Everyone's head spun around when an explosive giggle came from the yacht’s railing.
Tomás wiped tears from his eyes, but clearly they had nothing to do with any negative emotions. Without warning, he fell to his knees and started rolling all over the deck, gasping for air as he continued to howl with laughter.
"W-What's so funny?!” Millie scoffed. “She's stuck with those creeps—"
Tomás only chuckled louder, until he couldn't do it any more. "...Hoo... Oh, man. She's... She's alive!! Haaah, yeah!" He punched the sea air forcefully, and I think we all caught on in that same moment.
Until now, the musician had no idea where Belle was, whether she was alive or dead. He'd probably spent days thinking about her unknown fate, hiding it all underneath that smile of his... Now that he knew for sure, it must have been as though a tremendous weight had been lifted.
Serah, the voice of reason for everybody, sat down beside him. "...Yeah, she's alive. She's not in great company, though — and on a boat, of all places. She could be heading anywhere in the world right now."
Tomás grinned cheerfully, somehow not letting the impossible challenge faze him. "...Then that's where I've gotta follow her. Anywhere in... the world...! Ahahaahaa!!" He started cracking up again, and that's when everybody including Harry gave up on trying to take his situation seriously.
