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The Legend of the Red Specter (The Adventures of the Red Specter Book 1)

Page 44

by M. A. Wisniewski


  That weight grew more and more apparent as the fight went on, as the Specter’s parries grew shorter and weaker, each motion just barely enough to deflect the blow, to hold off death for just a few more steps. This happened over and over, until it was all the Red Specter could do to hold his spear out in front of him, shaft perfectly vertical, twitching just a few inches to either side to fend off her attacks. Joy cringed at the sight, awaited the final exchange, the finishing blow, as Shiori battered at the Specter’s weapon, again and again, until finally, she let out a bestial howl and…staggered back, sucking her breath through her teeth, glaring at the Red Specter in frustration.

  And then Joy realized something: the Red Specter was just holding his weapon out, barely moving it—and Shiori couldn’t get past his guard. She was stymied, frustrated. And, more than that, she was blowing air like a forge bellows. Joy could hear it from yards away, could see the sweat streaming down her face and soaking through the padding beneath her armor. Shiori screamed again and bull-rushed the Specter, who batted her spear-tip away and neatly side-stepped, letting her charge meet empty air. Shiori managed not to stumble and fall, but it was a near thing, and her legs wobbled as she spun around to guard position again.

  Joy had completely misread the fight. The Red Specter had never been overwhelmed; he’d just been efficient. Instead of trying to match Shiori blow for blow at her frenetic pace, he’d played defense until she’d exhausted herself and he’d learned all her moves. Now she was in big trouble, and she knew it, staring in dismay at his basic guard, which had suddenly become too much for her.

  “STRONG. FAST. TOUGH. ACCURATE.” The Red Specter spoke, and there was no strain in his voice, no sign of fatigue at all. “AND THAT’S ALL YOU ARE. NO DEPTH. NO STRATEGY. NO IMAGINATION.”

  He shook his head. “NOT SHIORI. NOT EVEN CLOSE.”

  "Shut up, SHUT UP!" Not-Shiori howled, lunging at him, but the Specter parried, and, for the first time, lashed out with a counterattack. The blow smashed into the the side of Shiori's helmet, and she staggered back, woozy from the impact, desperately trying to ready herself to block the next strike—a strike that didn't come.

  Instead the Red Specter just stood there and watched, impassive. Letting her recover? That didn't seem like a good idea to Joy, but then again, this battle was so far over her head that she felt unqualified to critique anybody's tactics.

  "Going easy, you bastard?" Not-Shiori snarled. "Looking down on me, huh? I'll make you regret that, fucker. C'mon, let's dance."

  The Specter didn't move, didn't speak, didn't shift his guard. Not-Shiori let out another scream, launched another attack—or started to, but saw the Red Specter shift in response, ever so slightly, and she aborted, scrabbled back in anticipation of the counterstrike. She bared her teeth in frustration. The Specter was beating her attacks before they even started.

  The Red Specter watched her circle about. She couldn't attack. She wouldn't run. Her pride wouldn't allow it. Finally, he spoke. "I DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU."

  Not-Shiori sneered in response, but the Specter wasn't done. "SHIORI ROSEWING. MASS MURDERER. POISONER. BETRAYER. YOU FIND THAT ADMIRABLE? ENOUGH TO TAKE THE NAME?"

  "Shut up."

  "SO PRIDEFUL. OF SOMEONE ELSE’S REPUTATION? WHY NOT BUILD YOUR OWN REP. WITH YOUR OWN NAME—"

  "NO, It's MINE," screamed Shiori. "It was MY name, MINE! I'm Rosewing. I earned that name. I did. She stole it! Fucking stole it from me."

  Shiori drew herself up, gaining energy from her rage. Joy had no idea what she was talking about, but, whatever it was, it was a deep pain, the kind of grudge that needed years of aging, a knockout whiskey that would sear your throat and eat holes in your stomach.

  "I worked my ass off! For years! All I wanted... All I wanted..." Shiori choked on the words, fighting herself for control. "...And I did it! My third attempt. The last one. Do or die. And I did it! I finished in the top. Made the cut. I earned that, you hear me? I EARNED IT!"

  "And then...they took it. They didn't care, didn't care," Shiori's voice took on a sing-song quality, sounding much younger. "Awww.... Awww... Look at the poor widdle injured girl. Poor widdle injured girl, isn't she brave? Isn't she brave? Well, FUCK THAT! Fuck it all! It's MY name. I took it back. Took back what she cheated me out of. You hear me? I was CHEATED! I was CHEATED!"

  The Red Specter had lowered his guard completely, a silent witness to Shiori's rant. Joy had such a hard time reading him, with his mask and his goggles and his great big coat, but something about him right then... she saw a deep, profound sadness.

  "NO," he said. "YOU WERE LUCKY."

  Joy had no idea if that was meant to console or enrage Shiori, or something else, but her eyes flashed white-hot fury, and she lashed out with her spear. The Specter parried, and their weapons locked together, Shiori's blade trapped by the heavy forked prong of the Specter's odd polearm. The Specter cranked down with a twisting chop, and Shiori's blade snapped in two. The severed steel edge skittered across the concrete, and Shiori was left gawking at the jagged metal stump where her blade used to be. Then the Specter did something too fast for Joy to follow, and the remnants of Shiori's spear went flying out of her hands in several pieces. The Red Specter brought the tip of his spear up inches from her throat, and she had no defense.

  "SHIORI ROSEWING," said the Specter, almost placatingly. "YOU WILL KNEEL, PLACE YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD, AND SURRENDER. FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL—"

  And then Shiori turned and looked straight at Joy, eyes filled with such levels of hate, it made her shrink back, want to protest, What did I do? Why me, all of a—

  Shiori's hand blurred. So did the Specter's blade, and Shiori's hate was replaced by a look of profound surprise. A throwing-knife tumbled loose from her fingers and went sailing way over Joy's head, flipping end over end. Shiori clutched at her throat, tried to speak, but only managed to make a sick bubbling noise. Bright red liquid soaked through her gauntlets, and she stared at the two of them in shock, looking so lost and alone. She seemed to collapse in slow motion, first going to her knees, then curling into a ball, and tipped on her side, lying on the concrete in a fetal position, as her blood continued to spill out, forming a red halo on the ground around her.

  Joy suddenly had a very hard time standing. The whole world seemed unsteady, wheeling and dipping around her. Oh, she was going to puke.

  "EASY," said the Red Specter, who had appeared next to her, blocking her view of the woman dying on the ground. "SIT DOWN. DEEP BREATHS. PUT YOUR HEAD BETWEEN YOUR KNEES."

  Joy complied, and it helped. Eventually, the nausea passed, without Joy having to lose any of her stomach contents. She wiped her tears away and nudged the Specter aside so she could look again. Curled up in her armor, Shiori...or, whoever she'd really been...resembled nothing so much as a dead beetle, but she'd...

  Joy stared up at the Red Specter. "Why...why me? I mean, with the knife… she aimed at me…”

  "DISTRACTION. REVENGE. AN EASY TARGET." The Specter shrugged, though his tone wasn't unkind. "WASN'T GOING TO TAKE CHANCES. PATIENCE EXHAUSTED."

  "Um... Thank you," said Joy, for lack of anything better to say. Was there a proper etiquette for this kind of situation? Did she want to find out?

  "YOU FEEL SORRY FOR HER?"

  Joy gazed up at the Red Specter. Backlit by the sun, she couldn't see anything behind the flat round circles of his goggles.

  "SHE HURT YOU. WAS GOING TO HURT YOU MORE. WOULD'VE KILLED YOU WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT. HAS DONE WORSE BEFORE. STILL FEEL SORRY FOR HER?"

  She puzzled at the question. Part of her wondered why he was even asking. She decided to answer anyway. It felt important. She turned it over in her head, but her head was a mess. But this wasn't a head question anyway. What did she feel, deep in her chest?

  "I... guess so?" She said. "I mean, I know she was a... a bad person, and I guess she deserved it, but... still..."

  The Red Specter nodded. "I UNDERSTAND. MORE THAN YOU KNOW. BUT IT'S A MISTAKE. BIGGEST MISTAKE I E
VER—"

  It happened before Joy had a chance to call out, but she saw it clearly--a massive bullet-shaped head, barely recognizable as human; a mouth filled with shiny gold-plated razor-teeth, opened up wider than any person should be able to. Benny the Shark reared up behind the Red Specter, taking him unawares, savagely chomping down into his neck and shoulder.

  Joy shrieked, horrified—not only by what she'd just seen, but what she was about to see, the mauling that would happen as Benny bit down with those awful teeth, tearing away hunks of flesh, of the man who'd saved her. And it was already too late, too late to stop it.…

  Only it didn't happen. The Red Specter just stood there, utterly indifferent to the leech that had clamped onto his shoulder. No gouts of blood or gore appeared, and Joy remembered that the Specter was wearing some pretty impressive armor, strong enough to stop bullets. And, that despite the strength of Benny's beliefs, no matter what type of surgeries he got, or how many bones he ate, or how many times he pretended to regress to past lives, at the end of the day he was just a man with a big mouth. And his bite was just a man's bite, with nothing like the force and power of a real shark.

  Benny shifted, wiggled his head a bit, and Joy realized he was stuck. His teeth were stuck in the thick scale-leather of the Specter's armor, and he couldn't get them out. He'd literally bitten off more than he could chew. Benny directed a sidelong glare at the Specter. Under other circumstances, Joy supposed it would've been intimidating.

  "Marrgll!" he said.

  The Red Specter turned to look at Benny. Or, he tried to, but there wasn't much space to move his head before the cone of his mask bonked into the Triad boss’ forehead.

  "YOU," said the Specter. "ARE WAY TOO INTO YOUR FUCKING GIMMICK."

  With a click, the Red Specter separated his spear weapon into two separate halves, and proceeded to use the pommel of his sword to pummel Benny the Shark between the eyes, until those eyes rolled up, the gangster went limp, and he slid free to collapse in a boneless pile at the Specter's feet.

  Part IX

  Joy Does What Joy Wants

  Chapter 49

  Cleanup

  “WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS? UNBELIEVABLE.” The Red Specter tugged at the collar of his trench-coat, pulling it out to reveal a large circular hole ripped in the canvas at the shoulder. The Specter returned the two halves of his weapon to the custom sheath on his back, then flipped Benny onto his stomach, securing the unconscious man's hands behind his back with steel cable ties. Then he repeated the process with Benny's ankles, and linked the two sets of ties together, forcing the gangster into an awkward arched-back pose. He kept muttering the whole time.

  "A BITE? A FRIGGIN' BITE? WHAT THE ABYSS IS WRONG WITH... OH, LOOK AT THIS!"

  The Specter yanked something out from beneath Benny's jacket and showed it to Joy.

  "A gun! Genius WAS carrying AND INSTEAD OF using it LIKE ANY sane PERSON, JACKASS TRIES TO bite ME! Moron!” The Specter yelled at Benny's slumbering form, and Joy noted his voice was slipping in and out of the deep rumble he normally used. Was it an affectation?

  "Well, maybe he got way too into your gimmick," said Joy. "He thought you were really a ghost, so he thought he needed to beat you with his... er, shark powers? I guess?"

  The Red Specter stared at her, his posture indicating just how stupid he thought that idea was.

  Joy shrugged, noting that the Specter hadn't denied that he was using a gimmick. No insistence that he really was a ghost. "Well, I don't know, but maybe it made sense to him. Plus, everyone knows that guns don't work on the Red Specter."

  "THE ABYSS THEY DON'T," said the Specter. "DAMNED THINGS HURT LIKE A BASTARD."

  "But Benny didn't know that, right?" Joy said, noting the Specter's voice had gone back to 'normal' as he'd calmed down. "And isn't that the point of your outfit? To intimidate your enemies into making mistakes? Or was it something else? Why did you decide to become the Red Specter?"

  "I DIDN'T..." The Red Specter stopped and stared at her, then started to walk away. "SHOULD BE FINE FROM HERE. GO HOME. NO INTERVIEWS."

  "Hey, wait!" Joy said, and started to follow, but after two steps, a searing pain in her foot brought her up short. She cursed, staggered, sat down, leaning up against more cargo crates.

  "WHAT IS IT NOW?" The Red Specter had stopped a few yards away, back facing her.

  "I stepped on a nail," said Joy.

  The Red Specter stalked back, grabbed her ankle and held her foot up to the light. Indeed, the sole of one of her reed sandals had been pierced by a fat bent nail, attached to a scrap of wood, likely part of the debris from the duel with Shiori. The Specter glared at her.

  "What are you getting mad at me for?" she said. "It's not like I did it on purpose."

  The Specter kept glaring, and cocked his head at her.

  "What? Really?" Joy said, her indignation boiling over. "Really? You honestly think I would deliberately injure myself just to get an interview? Is that really what you think of me?"

  The Red Specter leaned in. "I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO MAKE OF YOU. NOT SURE IF YOU'RE SOME KIND OF GENIUS, OR A COMPLETE IDIOT."

  Joy just glared at him. He let out a long sigh, then grabbed the scrap of wood with both hands and snapped it in half along the grain, freeing it from the nail. Joy hissed at the vibration in her foot and yelped as the Specter scooped her up and started carrying her.

  Oh, hello there. Joy knew she didn't weigh much, but the ease at which he'd picked her up was... Well, obviously he was strong, of course he'd have to be, considering all the things she'd seen him do, but to experience it directly was... well, it was just impressive, that was all. From this angle she could get a close look as his mask, at the subtle scaled texture on the hardened leather plates, and what was more, the sunlight shone through his goggles so she could see his eyes inside. She couldn't really discern their color with the glass in the way, but their shape was perfectly clear. She thought they were rather pretty.

  Joy was about to ask where they were going, but they'd already arrived. The KIB had set up an impromptu field headquarters next to the wreck of the Joanne Spaulding, agents milling about, herding the captured Triad gangsters into large self-propelled armored troop carriers, sorting through the wreckage, cordoning off the area, sifting through the rubble, and so on.

  Someone flagged them down, and Joy recognized the head agent from before. "There you are. We've got a..." He paused as he noticed Joy. "Oh, hello again. You're that Woman's Lib agent? What is..."

  The Red Specter snorted, and the agent peered at him questioningly.

  "Ah... that's a teensy little misunderstanding," said Joy. "I'm actually a reporter."

  Confusion played over the agent's face. "DON'T ASK," said the Specter. "NEED TO DROP HER OFF AT FIRST AID."

  "I stepped on a nail," said Joy. "And I've got some other things too. Deep cut on my ear. Oh, and I think there's something really wrong with my pinky finger. And also—"

  "SAVE IT FOR THE MEDIC," said the Specter.

  "We're set up in one of the warehouses, but..." The agent hesitated for second, then shrugged. "Follow me."

  "WAIT. SEND AGENTS THAT WAY," the Specter managed to point with the hand that supported her knees. "FIVE ROWS, THEN LEFT. BENNY AND FAKE SHIORI. NEUTRALIZED. BODY BAG FOR THE FAKE."

  The agent frowned, but did as the Specter asked. "Well, that's everybody accounted for, then," he said, as he led them towards the warehouse. "Pretty sure we got all the cultists in the..."

  The agent trailed off as he remembered Joy was there. "All the corrupt Nibiru cultists working in the City Guard, you mean," said Joy, enjoying his startled reaction.

  "Ah... I'm afraid I can't comment on that, ma'am," he said.

  "Call me Joy," she said, with a smile. "Joy Song Fan, freelance reporter, working on assignment for the Dodona Gazette. I'm here to interview the Red Specter."

  "SHE IS NOT," said the Specter, as the agent did a double-take. "SHE IS GETTING DROPPED OFF AT THE MEDIC. PERIOD."
/>   Joy smiled indulgently. "Don't mind him, Agent..."

  "Funaki. Special Agent Sam Funaki. And, um—"

  "Oh, that's a nice name. Very strong. It suits you," said Joy.

  The Specter just snorted in response. Agent Funaki cleared his throat.

  "Thank you, Ms. Fan—"

  "I told you, call me Joy."

  "Ah, well...I'm afraid, Joy, it might be a while before we can have someone take a look at you. Our field medics are really busy right now, you see--"

  "IS IT BAD?"

  "All things considered, we got off light. The main squad stuck to the plan, and fortunately most of those Triad goons weren’t trained on Manticores—burnt through their ammo and didn't hit much. The hostage rescue squad, on the other hand..."

  The Red Specter shook his head. "THAT WAS A MESS."

  "Well, it was a short-notice rush of plan, but I ran it past the boys, and they said they wanted to go for it. It was just..." Agent Funaki shook his head. "It was that crazy secretary of his--nobody expected that, and it totally tipped the scales against them."

 

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