Kingdom Come

by Nicol, Andy

  “Yes, your name is Soul and your alias is Crow; mine is K9 —”

  “No! B-Benji … K9?”

  I put my hand on his neck. “Soul, just breathe —”

  “They’ll hurt the bird! They’ll kill you!”

  He still had one hand firmly on my shoulder, but his head was hanging low.

  “Soul, I am not going to let them get away with anything. I don’t know much, but I know that you don’t want to do any of this.” I wanted to help this man. Something about him was just so … lonely. It radiated from him.

  He let me go and looked at my wrist as he spoke softly, his hand swinging at his side. “Please … don’t hurt the bird. He has nothing left…”

  I watched him shake his head and quickly glance around. “I’d never lie to someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

  He looked back up and examined my face, looking slightly relieved, though still wary. Despite his broken English and messy exterior, he appeared to be a very calculating and intelligent man. He would have to be to work most of the programming on that system of his.

  He lifted my hand up and pinched my wrist, earning a small growl from yours truly. I half expected him to flinch again but he didn’t; he only let my hand go and went digging under his desk. He pulled out a case and opened it. Inside were various medical supplies, goopy plaster spilled across each plastic package. Watching him, I grimaced as he pulled out a couple bandages after a glance back at my hand. I was a little hesitant. Does he even have any training? Has the plaster compromised the integrity of the bandages?

  He held his hand out and motioned for me to walk forward, but I shook my head.

  “I’m fine.”

  “The crow can’t let the dog be hurting.” He gently grabbed my hand and put the other on my waist, leading me to the table and making me sit in his overly large desk chair. He lightly poked at my wrist and held it to the light. Wrapping the bandage tightly over my wrist, he caused me to scream a little louder than I’d meant to. I kicked my legs and bit my lip, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes as he wiped away some plaster.

  “Have you done this before?”

  “Yes.”

  I tried to get another good look at him, but wild hair covered his eyes. He absentmindedly brushed it back, getting plaster stuck in it and getting his long fingers tangled in the black — and now white — mess. His chin was slim and framed with a short goatee; his cheeks were rather hollow and outlined by thin black sideburns that turned into the aforementioned goatee. He also had high cheekbones, one of which was cut and still a little bloody.

  He paused in his actions, then he dumped most of the contents of his medical case into the trash and stepped back, ready to run his fingers through his hair again. I grabbed his wrist with my good hand, and he froze like a deer caught in the headlights. He started to look defensive but didn’t move; instead, he opened his mouth to speak as I pushed his fringe off his face. There was still plaster mixed in, so my hand stuck a bit as I tugged.

  He whined softly and pulled away, nearly tripping over the table. Turning his back and muttering, he repeated my name over and over, as if to get used to saying it.

  “K9 helped the bird. The K9 helped … the K9 — trust … trust, trust, trust. The bird can trust the dog…”

  He nodded to himself as though he had made up his mind. He straightened, sat in front of his computer, and started typing. I leaned over his shoulder and watched as he hacked his way into Lilithia’s media systems and programming. Every screen in every home on every street of this city was under his control.

  He leaned in toward the computer’s microphone and spoke.

  “Tonight at eight o’clock, another ‘hero’ will be taken out. You cannot save him. This is his warning … the bird will catch the worm.”

  He let out a joyful laugh and turned to face me. He clenched his teeth excitedly and waved his hands about. I responded with a shrug, and he motioned to my wrist and wrung his hands. I got what he was going for — mass fearmongering.

  “What did I ever do to you? Let me go already!”

  He grinned as he let out another cackle, sounding very much like a crow or bird of some kind, and then cut the connection to the media servers. The screens went dark. He was still staring at me, eyes locked, with that half-mad expression on his face. I’ll admit that I was a bit unnerved by it. He probably saw it in my face; he didn’t bother to hide his amusement.

  He stood and started putting on his armour — a long trench coat–style jacket with a metal shoulder pad jutting out on the left side, and feathers from that of a raven or crow fixed to it. He quickly tied his boots, then looked at me, standing to his full — and intimidating — height for the first time. “Will the K9 help the crow?”

  He held out his hand. Dropping my aching wrist to my side and reaching out with the other, I took it.

  Getting progressively more excited, he managed to keep a straight face as he dragged me through the halls, keeping to the shadows and back halls that not many people use anymore. They were close to collapsing, and we were all pretty sure they were haunted.

  “What about my gear?” I asked.

  He stopped and thought, then shook his head. “The bird wants to play … out of his mind punishing, whispering demons rise and the bird will have a prize — Crow wants to have his fun, the K9 needs her rest, the worm needs to feel helpless and fearful.”

  I was confused, but I followed him anyway.

  He stopped outside the gate and quickly turned to me, not meeting my eyes. “Do you love him?”

  I was rather startled by this sudden question. “Who? Why?”

  Soul wrung his hands and stared at his boots with bitter eyes. “The worm, Daniel Stanton. Do you love him?”

  I looked down and shook my head. “I can’t deny there was a point I found him attractive, but I’ve never loved him. There’s something about him that just … isn’t right.”

  Soul’s exterior stiffened again and he nodded curtly. “Good. Tonight the crow has his fun.”

  “W-wait…”

  “He won’t die.”

  He opened the gate and shoved me into the light. My legs got tangled together, and as I slid through the dirt, I cast a small displeased glance back at him. The arena was full of fans, and sunlight was peeking through the glass panels in the roof.

  Dan was standing opposite me, his weapon raised to Randy’s. He was a bit to my left. Randy “Mummy” Curio always had bandages around his head. Today they were practically flowing off of him, unwinding. Dan called out my name and ran forward. I pushed myself to my feet and met his eyes just as the lights cut out and Soul came over the loud speaker.

  “Did you miss your girlfriend?” he taunted in a gruff voice.

  The lights came back on, and Randy was lying on the ground, out cold. Dan looked around him, confused, and then looked back at me. I tilted my head at him, and the lights went out for the final time. He shrieked in pain. A moment later, I felt an arm around my abdomen dragging me back out of the arena. When everything came back on, Dan was lying face down in a pool of his own blood, his knuckles white as he gripped his head. A bloody pipe lay beside him. “Remember me, Danny?”

  Soul stood in the dark entrance to the Pit, a spot that hid him from the cameras and the crowd. Dan’s eyes widened when he caught a glimpse of the pipe, but he hadn’t noticed the deranged-looking man. Seconds later, Soul was gone.

  Soul initiated a fail-safe that momentarily crashed all cameras and security feeds, letting us get out of the main halls without being seen or tracked.

  It seemed that Soul was used to being invisible, and he appeared to be very good at it.

  Soul really only seemed able to speak smoothly when taunting: I guess he needed time to give it thought and preparation.

  I followed him to the barracks, where he pulled me behind him and held his breath. An alarm shot out, and the cameras came back on. Well timed.

  “Now what do we do? They’ll be looking for us.”

  H
e searched his pockets, then slammed his hands back against the wall. He ran a hand through his hair and tugged at it, squeezing his eyes shut. I rested back against the wall and flinched as he started mumbling. Suddenly standing up, he threw me over his shoulder.

  “Scream.”

  “What?”

  “Do it or trouble.” He was threatening.

  I weighed my options, and he was right. I screamed like I was in pain, and I could sense his relief. He stopped halfway down a hall and looked at the camera. I kicked my legs and he started laughing, his shoulder jabbing my ribs slightly. I tried hitting his back, but it barely affected him. He continued quickly down the hall and kicked open a door. After looking up, I saw it was mine. The door clicked closed again, and he put his hand on my back as he slid me off his shoulder and onto my bed.

  As I grunted, my wrist shifted. Soul paused his movements to make sure I wasn’t too hurt; I could still feel his hands around my back as he watched me carefully. His eyes were fixed on mine for a single moment before I sat up. He stumbled back, wringing his jacket in his hands as what little colour he had drained from his face.

  “Crow?” I said. He turned to me but kept his head down. “Crow, come here.”

  His head shot up but he did, and sat down beside me. He was still strangling his clothing and glaring at the floor with wide eyes.

  “Soul, when was the last time you got any rest?”

  He continued to play with his jacket but stood up, tilting his head back and forth. “N-need to go back. The bird will get caught if he doesn’t —”

  “Soul.” He sat back down and swallowed hard, staying silent as I scolded him. “When was the last time you slept?”

  He started fidgeting and sweating, but then his breath became more ragged, falling into a pattern of sobs. He seemed extremely agitated and looked like he was about to yell, like he did before. I wondered if he did this whenever he had a hard time dealing with whatever emotion he was feeling.

  I quickly placed my left hand on his cheek and he leaned into it, whimpering. A tear rolled down his face and he pulled away, shaking his head. Softly, I grabbed him again and made him look at me, both hands on his cheeks. His lip stuck out as he watched me with awe.

  “Go get some rest,” I instructed. He nodded, but didn’t take his eyes off mine. “And please … trust me.”

  He nodded again and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. I dragged my thumb over his soft skin and let my hand fall as he opened his eyes, startled.

  “I need one last thing,” I asked carefully.

  He leaned forward eagerly. “A-anything…”

  I gave him a soft smile and tilted my head to the side. “I need you to knock me out.”

  He suddenly jerked back and stood up. “N-no, the bird can’t do that!”

  “Trust me, Soul. That way, when they find me, they won’t know I’m helping you.” He scratched his head and nodded hesitantly. Closing my eyes, I felt him touch my hair before he backhanded me across the side of the face and I hit the bed.

  When I woke up, Matt was standing beside me, Dan was yelling at Frankie again, and my head was pounding. That last one was becoming a bit of a habit. Josh was sitting in the corner, still in his security guard uniform, carefully taking notes in a large journal. Or maybe just doodling.

  “She’s up!” Matt called.

  Dan spun on his heel and bounded over, brushing his shaggy blond hair to the side of his face. The welt on his forehead was clearly visible and still crusted over with blood, but it didn’t look nearly as bad as I thought it would, considering. Dan didn’t even seem to notice it, thick headed as ever. “I want to know who the hell did this,” he said.

  “I-I don’t know…” My vision was still blurry, but I could see Matt was holding out a few painkillers and water. “I was drugged, or at least I think I was.”

  Dan stomped his feet as he walked, shaking the room. “We’ll get a nurse down here to do a rape kit —”

  “What?! No! No, I’m fine. Well, at least that … part of me is. My wrist could use a — oh, never mind.” I held my right hand up, a cast already in place.

  “Louis was already prepared,” Matt offered. “He patched it up while you were out. Grumbled about it a bit, but you know him.”

  I nodded, then ran both hands over my face as pain radiated through my nose, temples, and brow. Dan looked like he hadn’t slept, which he probably hadn’t considering my clock said 3 a.m.

  “Viktor put me in charge of finding this son of a bitch,” Dan said. “And Frankie wanted to help.”

  I asked Dan quickly, “How the hell did you know that guy, anyway? He asked if you remembered him, and your face went white as a sheet.”

  “Long and personal story, Ben. And I don’t know him. He just … reminded me of someone I used to know.”

  “Well, I’m involved now too, and I want to know.”

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow. You need to sleep —”

  “I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Tell me.”

  “At this rate, you will be dead pretty soon. I’ll tell you tomorrow! I’m going to need your help with the investigation anyway.” Dan’s grey eyes went from drilling a hole in mine to shooting glares at Matt, Josh, and Frankie as he left the room.

  “Rest up. We’ll get a statement from you in the morning,” Josh said, eyeing me.

  Matt stepped in. “Maybe in the afternoon. You look beat.”

  I scowled at them both. It was part of Matt’s job as producer to be concerned about me — I was one of his stars — but Matt was a friend too. I knew his concern was genuine. Still, I didn’t want to be questioned about all this.

  Matt tipped his blue cap, and he and Josh walked past the resident pink-haired punk rocker and out the door.

  Frankie sat rubbing his arms. “I know we’ve had our differences, but I hate fighting you — mainly because I always get hurt or embarrassed or both — and I really don’t want to be next. I’m not, am I?”

  For a moment, he looked nothing like a warrior. The only thing he’d be a threat to is the contents of the refrigerator. I shook my head, “I wouldn’t know, Frankie, but I sincerely doubt it.”

  “Okay, I’m here if you need anything. Just give me a holler.” He turned his back and his bright hair grazed his shoulders.

  “One more thing” — his eyes were sincerely full of worry — “you weren’t lying about the sexual assault, were you?” His voice shook a little, and I remembered his sister was killed because she reported a case a few years back.

  “Wouldn’t lie about something like that,” I replied softly.

  She had been a wonderful girl, and she hadn’t deserved to die over a man’s lack of restraint. Frankie had hunted the guy for weeks before he found him, and it’s no secret around the base that he killed the culprit, but they never had enough evidence against him.

  “I’ll be fine once the psychological trauma wears off.”

  He nodded and gave a weak smile before closing my door. I rested my head back on the pillow and looked at the ceiling. This was the only part of the building that looked like a regular home, aside from the small kitchen on this side of the base. The rest of the place was all white panels and tile floors, very clean. Except one area where Jekyll and Hyde seemed to hang out; it looked abandoned and dirty all the time. But we didn’t ever go near there. I happened to value my life.

  For some reason, Vince Viktor, the man upstairs, loved Jekyll and Hyde. They were warriors too, tacticians with a mean streak. Most of us hated them; their sadism had cost people their careers. My hand drifted across my chest when I thought of them. We had a history.

  I stood and walked into my little bathroom, shaking off the residual dizziness. The bathroom was connected to another room, Angel Lannister’s, but she was always with her boyfriend, Ronin, so I never actually had to share it. We had a grudging friendship.

  I looked in the mirror and rolled my eyes at the blood stuck to my nose and eyebrow. I was a mess. A shower could fix that, though.
After heating the water, I peeled off my top, which was coated in sweat and blood, and dropped it onto the floor. I tried to keep my right hand out of the water as I soaped up.

  I got out and threw on some pajamas that the guys would never let me live down. Pink sheep-skeleton PJs aren’t exactly something the world-renowned K9 should be caught in.

  I looked at the dripping black-and-white mop on my head and shrugged before strolling back into my room and falling onto my bed. I hoped Soul remembered to get some rest too.

  I pushed that thought away as the world left me again.

  Four

  My eyes hurt as I sat up in bed. Though the world was a blur, I still took a confused look around, only to find a piece of paper lying on my desk. I cleared my throat and ran a hand through my hair to clear my mind before I read it. It was messy penmanship to say the least, although it was nothing compared to Matt’s.

  K9

  I’m not stupid. Confused. I don’t know anymore.

  Can’t put words together well, start to panic and lose

  control. Please give me time.

  Sorry.

  Crow

  I read it over a second time. The first statement looked hesitant. He probably wasn’t used to writing, but he had explained himself. He didn’t speak in the first person because he couldn’t. It was not his fault, not that I ever thought it was. I couldn’t believe he honestly thought I didn’t understand that he couldn’t control it. Sure, he didn’t deal well with stress, but he had a system of calming himself down. I could understand that.

  I tucked the note under my pillow and threw on some jeans and an old T-shirt, grabbing a jacket and putting on my dog collar on my way out to meet Dan. He’d emailed early in the morning and insisted we get together so I could help him with his investigation into the attacks. As much as I didn’t want a damn thing to do with it, and as little as I wanted to hang around with old Dan-o, I knew I had to stay on top of what he was finding.