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The Way of Death

Page 4

by James Von Ohlen


  At that moment, the man who had run off returned, throwing a door open and leaping into the gaming hall. He stood tall and proud, chest puffed out as he strutted with his blade gripped tightly in one hand but resting across his shoulders. All swagger as he entered, this one.

  “Yeah, he’s still here.” The man pointed at Reiji. His eyes moved back to the other men he’d been with only moments before, the smirk on his face died as he laid eyes on the three dead men. He looked back to Reiji, eyes wide once more. He smiled.

  “Don’t matter now. You’re still fucked.”

  A large group of men began filing through the door behind him. Two dozen, give or take, Reiji counted as they entered. Each large, angry looking, and armed. Even if they were completely clueless with their blades, against that many in such a small space, he was about to be royally fucked.

  The smiling man’s eyes fell to the stasis bag in Reiji’s left hand, and dawning realization spread across his face.

  “A bounty? You’re about to get yourself killed because you were trying to collect a bounty?” He pointed at the bag in Reiji’s hand and the men behind him looked down to it. “Guess we get to collect in your place after we finish kick-fucking you, asshole. Shit…as lucky as we are, we might even be able to collect on you.”

  The man rushed forwards towards the fight, along with every other man in the room. Every other man save Reiji. He made a straight line for the hole in the wall, gaining speed with each step as bottles and thrown furniture crashed down around him. A hurled blade clattered at his feet and he sprang into the air with a powerful leap as he neared the hole in the wall.

  His shoulder clipped the edge of the opening and he lost his balance, landing face down in the filth of the alley. He tasted and smelled piss all over again as he pushed himself to his feet.

  “Get your asses outside and get that fuck!” A new voice yelled from within.

  Reiji looked back to see a man climbing through the opening. With a single strike the man’s head rolled into the alley accompanied by a welter of blood and his body slumped, blocking the opening in the wall as it twitched.

  “Go. Around. You fuckwits!” Someone yelled.

  Reiji ran back onto the streets, choked with refuse and a smattering of men, women, and children with nothing better to do than stand around in their own filth. Or nothing to do at all for that matter.

  A few bystanders looked up from their narcotic stupor as he emerged from the alley, carrying a head and brandishing a sword. They looked him up and down as if it was nothing remarkable. And in that neighborhood, that was a distinct possibility.

  He’d arrived in this quarter by subway, and then had to cover a few kilometers on foot before he found the place he was looking for. Now he would have to cover the same distance on foot with what could amount to a score of men chasing him. Best to get started he thought, as he broke into a jog. A barely conscious man stumbled into Reiji’s path and he shoved the man out of the way, off of the sidewalk, and into the trash in the street.

  The man protested verbally, but went down all the same.

  People began shouting behind Reiji as he picked up speed, and he chanced a glance back over his shoulder to see the thugs from the gaming hall spilling out into the street. One pointed in his direction and shouted and the rest moved to pick up the chase.

  At the end of the block he would take a right turn and then look for a side street to turn onto when he was out of sight of his pursuers. Deviate a little from the course and see if he could lose them, or pick them off in a series of ambushes, one by one if he needed to. A solid plan, he thought. Reiji had been in shittier situations, but not by much, and still managed to escape from them with his life. This would be just another to add to the list.

  And then Reiji saw him again. The little shithead who had tried to show off to his shithead friends. Only this time there were a lot more of them.

  Their eyes met and the boy attempted a smirk, but instead came off looking like a toddler that had eaten something too sour. He stood up as Reiji approached, saying something to the teenagers gathered around him, almost entirely boys now and near thirty of them.

  They laughed as the boy rose, clearly the leader of this group, and stepped into the sidewalk. Several of the other boys held what appeared to be small cameras to record what was about to happen.

  “Hey, you old-ass bitch!” The boy’s face twisted in rage as he yelled at Reiji’s approach. “Glad you came back. Now you about to get fucked up.”

  Just what he needed. A fight with near thirty armed teenagers while a score of grown men, equally armed, bore down on him. A moment of clarity and Reiji had an idea. One that some might even think was a good idea.

  He slowed as he approached the loudmouthed boy.

  “I’m glad you’re still here as well.” He spoke loud enough for all gathered to hear. “Because I was just talking to my friends back there about what a bunch of fucking pussies you and your little faggot friends are.” Reiji motioned back to the armed men running down the street towards them.

  “Fuck you!” Someone called from within the group and they began closing in on him.

  “And they all agreed with me. In fact they said that they’re going to come fuck up every single one of you little bitches, and then force you turn tricks for them. Put you on the streets to make some money. Maybe even knock all your teeth out so you’ll get a higher price when you get face-fucked.” As the last word exited his mouth, Reiji lunged forward and struck.

  The leader of this group, the same Reiji had been hoping for an excuse to kill, screamed like a woman as Reiji moved, driving the pommel of his blade into the boy’s temple and crumpling him to the ground. The crowd of boys froze until Reiji kicked the nearest in the balls and they surged forward. With a roar he turned back to the approaching men, running towards them know.

  “Kill every single one of these fucks!” He screamed at the top of his lungs pointing ahead with his sword, making sure all of the approaching thugs form the gambling hall heard and saw him.

  At the last moment possible he changed direction, diving into an alley as the two groups clashed behind him. Screams filled the air and steel rang. A spur of the moment gang fight would be just the thing he needed to get some of them off his trail.

  Reiji looked back as he ran deeper into the alley and saw the two groups locked in a furious fight. Blades flashing and blood spilling. There was no doubt in his mind as to who would win, and how long it would take. The pack of teenagers didn’t stand a chance. Unless they were blade masters, which he doubted, they didn’t have the size or strength to prevail. Their numbers might buy them some extra time. Extra time that would allow Reiji to put more distance between himself and whoever survived the fight.

  Not everyone involved had bought into his ruse though. A few large men forced their way through the melee and entered the alley, chasing after him, led by a behemoth of a man. He carried what looked to be a sledgehammer in each hand and had the look about him of a man who knew how to use them. Better to not find out if that was true, Reiji thought as he put more distance between himself and his pursuers.

  A moment later a group of four of the teenagers followed after them, large knives clutched in their fists. Reiji didn’t wait to see if they were going to attack the men or join them in chasing him.

  He climbed a chain-link fence and vaulted over the top, landing on a pile of flattened cardboards. Surely the resting place of someone so desperate that they couldn’t even find housing in a living project. The alley turned sharply and Reiji ran down it, shoving an androgynous mass of filthy rags and unkempt hair out of his way as he burst onto the next street over.

  Reiji took in his surroundings and attempted to draw a map in his mind. He was moving in the wrong direction, out of necessity, and would have to double back at some point. By then, he hoped that the two groups after him would have wiped each other out or found something better to do with their time. He ran down the street, sticking to the sidewalk and do
ing his best to remain inconspicuous. Easier said than done when you were his size and carrying a severed head in a bag in one hand.

  People who saw him coming gave him hard looks, but none moved to block his path nor even said a word. They simply stared. Perhaps the people on this street are a little more intelligent, he thought. He rejected his hypothesis when he saw a group of five or so adults laying on the sidewalk in a narcotic stupor, one still clutching the makeshift pipe they had used to get high.

  A deep rumbling in the distance sounded, and the whole of the living quarters section shook with it. An industrial train. It might give him an easy way out of what seemed like a rapidly ripening cluster-fuck. If the train was inbound from the wastes, it would eventually end up at a point not too distant from his own apartment. If it was outbound, he could ride it until it left the slums behind and then dismount to find his way back. Minus a retinue of angry men and boys looking to take his head.

  Based on his knowledge of the layout of the city, the train would be moving somewhere to his west. Given that he could hear and feel its passage, it must be within a few kilometers. Assuming it was an average sized industrial train, that would give him enough time to get to the train and find his way on before it was gone. He made up his mind and put feet to the pavement as he began sprinting once more.

  The slums around him seemed to deteriorate even further with each step he took, if such a thing were possible. The façade of the buildings lining the streets began to slump and eventually became so dirty with accumulated layers of pollution that no one even bothered to attempt to vandalize them. This close to the industrial smelters, it was surprising that his lungs and skin weren’t on fire with the airborne byproducts.

  Empty windows lined with the jagged edges of broken glass looked down on him with the occasional shadowy figure perched therein. Doors, where they could still be found, bore the damage and scars of repeated forced entries and attempted repairs.

  Only the poorest of the poor and most desperate to remain hidden would dare live in an area like this. It was a virtual death sentence, guaranteeing that anyone who spent too much time here would die with a knife in their back or as the consequence of a myriad of aggressive cancers. Likely suffering from them all at once. Reiji made a mental note to acquire the proper nano-injection from his medical supplier and put it to good use when he sorted out the bounty on his life.

  The poor suffered this fate because they had no other choice. He could afford the medicine to repair the DNA damage. He’d be damned if he was going to die of something like liver cancer after having survived the battles he had faced.

  Eventually the buildings began to give way to long-abandoned warehouses, crumbling in on themselves and the occasional pipe venting toxic mixtures of chemicals and steam from some far away refinery or processing plant. Relics from another time. Industries that had thrived and fortunes that had been made. Now rotting timbers, rusted frames, and piles of once-red bricks stained a permanent shit-brown. The same color as the sky here. Reminders from the time before this world was left behind.

  Reiji finally allowed himself to slow to a jog. The foul air stung his nose, throat, and lungs with each ragged breath he drew. The rumbling of the train was so intense that the ground beneath his feet seemed to move with a life of its own. It was close. He scanned about himself in all directions. A few blinking lights no more than a block down the street showed him the way.

  As he approached the lights, remnants of a system that once warned motorists not to advance, the roar of the massive wheels passing over the tracks drowned out everything around him. He looked down from the edge of the street to take in the industrial train in all of its size and might. A full twenty-five meters across, fifteen meters high, and kilometers long. Passing by in a specially constructed trench with the top of the train cars about five meters below him. This seemed like a crazy idea. Was it really necessary? Reiji wondered as he looked around behind him. A group of men turned onto the street no more than a half block away. Angry and armed. Perhaps fifteen total.

  It was difficult to tell if they were the same men from the gambling hall, but who else would be following him here? As if to dispel any doubts about their identity, the crowd parted and the giant of a man carrying the sledgehammer in each hand waded through them. Clearly intent on putting them to work on Reiji.

  The huge man shouted something, but it was lost in the noise of the train. Reiji looked at him, advancing with a dozen or so men at his back, and then down at the train rushing by so close to his feet. It carried full loads of what appeared to be coal in each car. Not a soft landing, but a lot softer than a steel hammer to the head.

  The mass of thugs broke into a run, aiming directly at Reiji. His decision was made in an instant and he leapt down into the trench and onto the train. Behind him he saw a dozen heads looking down at him from the top of the trench, but they stayed where they were. Unsure if they should leap as well.

  A surging form knocked two of them from the edge of the trench and onto the train. The monster of a man had decided to make the leap and taken them along with him. All three landed on the next car back.

  Reiji weighed his options as he regained his feet. He put Meyer’s head down and secured it between two large pieces of ore and then drew Kai from its sheath. There was nowhere else to run to, and even if he knew how to disconnect the cars, he was growing angry and wanted a good fight. The large man with the hammers might be a formidable foe, but it wouldn’t be the first time Reiji had carved a giant down to size.

  He walked along the uneven surface of the ore, scanning for threats as he moved. The head of the giant came into view and then his shoulders. And then the hammers. He was looking directly at Reiji and advancing as well. The two other men who had fallen were nowhere to be seen.

  The two men advanced facing one another as they did so. Reiji judged his opponent to be a full head taller than himself.

  “Do you know why I’m about to kill you?” The large man asked, his voice carrying to Reiji over the noise of the train as he hefted the hammer in each hand.

  “I imagine it’s for the bounty. But I don’t really care why you’re going to try.” Reiji answered.

  “Money? No…that will be a nice bonus. But I’ve got a much better reason than that. You obviously don’t recognize me. Why should you? I was just a kid the last time I saw you.” Anger burned in his eyes as he spoke. A tangible thing that threatened to reach out and grab Reiji by the throat.

  “But I remember you.” The words came out in an angry growl. “I watched you kill my brother. Took his head right in front of me, and gutted him to harvest his organs as well.” He swallowed and the mountain of his Adam’s apple moved up and down.

  “He was always healthy. You probably got a good amount for his guts. You probably lived it up. Never thought twice about him.” The hammers spun in his fists.

  Reiji looked at the man. He saw nothing in his features that pointed to him being related to anyone that Reiji knew or remembered having killed. But there was always the possibility the man was speaking the truth. Reiji had somewhat of a unique appearance. Few others could be said to resemble him. And there was no other bounty hunter on all of Lexington with the same name.

  That had been a flaw of his work in the early days. He claimed bounties under his real name. It had been years since he’d started using fake names and accounts to collect his rewards. Mostly because it was a matter of public record who had collected what bounty and when. Anyone who wanted to know who to take revenge on merely had to access a data terminal to be given a name and possibly a picture.

  “Maybe your brother should have been a better criminal.” Reiji suggested. “You know, not getting caught and all. Then there’d have been no bounty.” A misrepresentation of the truth if not an outright lie. Meyer had been innocent enough and his head sat in a stasis bag somewhere behind Reiji. But it distracted the man just enough for Reiji to shift his feet. Shift his weight to a better position.

 
“I’m going to enjoy this.” The large man spoke as he moved. He ripped his shirt in half and tossed it away without losing the grip on his hammers, like a professional wrestler about to enter the ring. Intricate tattoos covered his torso, weaving into one another and forming odd shapes that doubled back upon one another. He flexed his shoulders and arms as boulders seemed to swell beneath his skin, threatening to burst through. He was no stranger to lifting heavy things and the use of chemical enhancements.

  Hammers swung around him in an intricate pattern. He moved to his right, Reiji’s left, and picked up speed as he sought out a place to cross the gap between cars. Reiji intentionally hesitated for just a moment, letting his opponent think that he had a clear path.

  As the man began to leap, Reiji moved. Kai flashed bright and deadly, cutting a path through the air that took a sizable chunk out of the equally sizable man’s thigh. He landed hard and rolled to the ground, amidst the ore piled there. Swathes of skin came loose and were left behind in his wake as he tumbled. He moved quickly to regain his feet, bringing himself into Reiji’s range with his effort.

  Kai struck again, cleanly cutting away a chunk of medial deltoid large enough to feed a small family for a few days. The muscle tissue hit the ground with a wet splat as the great man roared in pain. He tried to swing the hammer he clutched on the side he had been wounded and found it wouldn’t budge.

  Reiji stepped back, almost tripping himself on the uneven footing, as the other hammer rocketed into the air and slammed down, passing through the space his head had occupied a second or so before. The giant was wounded, but still dangerous.

  In the space the attack had bought him, the man forced himself to stand. One arm hung limp and useless by his side. The other held the remaining hammer out in front of him as if it were a sword. He was strong, and tough, but hadn’t trained with the hammers as anything other than a piece of exercise equipment. That would be his undoing.

 

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