Blowback

by James P. Sumner

Hmm… dissension in the ranks, perhaps?

  “You not a fan of his girlfriend?”

  He finally looks up at me. His nose is a mess. I feel bad about that.

  I’m sure I’ll get over it.

  He starts gesturing wildly. “No! Ever since she come along, Kazawa been thinking with wrong head. She hurt our family.”

  “So, tell me where I can find them, and I’ll make sure she leaves you all in peace.”

  “No one heard from the boss since Golden Tiger get destroyed. Our Kyodai say to sit tight. So, we sit tight.”

  Annoyingly, I believe him. Guess it’s back to Buchanan’s list. I’ll try one last thing with this cock-weasel.

  “What about Ko? You know him?”

  He pauses for a moment, then shakes his head. But I spotted the glimmer of recognition on his face.

  I press the barrel of my gun forcefully into his forehead, pushing him back into his seat.

  “Yes, you do. Don’t lie to me. It’ll hurt you.”

  He squirms under the pressure. Urges me to back off with panicked movements of his hands.

  “Okay. Okay!” He shifts in his seat, composing himself. He flicks his forked tongue over his mouth, lapping up some blood from his nose. “You know Octopus Bar?”

  “No, but I can find it. Why?”

  He sighs, casting a thin spray of blood toward me in the process. “Ko practically lives there. Him and his crew. Place open at ten. You find him after eleven.”

  “That’s actually helpful. Thank you.”

  He nods urgently. “So… so, I can go?”

  I grimace with fake apology. “Yeah, about that…”

  I pull the trigger. At this range, most of the back of his skull is removed by the bullet. It hits the wall behind him with a dull crack, surrounded by a pink and crimson cocktail.

  No way he would stay quiet. The fear of being punished for his loose tongue would be too great. He would tell whoever asked exactly what he told me, which would kill any element of surprise I have over Ko. So, this guy had to die.

  It’s that simple.

  I holster my gun and turn to leave but catch sight of the tattoo needle resting on the rolling cart as I do. I look at it for a moment, then glance at the fresh corpse on the chair. I smile to myself.

  No harm in sending a little message, is there?

  …

  …

  …

  Five minutes later, I climb back inside Ichiro’s car. Ruby looks at me expectantly.

  “So, how did it go?” she asks.

  “No luck on Kazawa’s location,” I reply. “But I have the next best thing.”

  “Miley?”

  I shake my head. “Ko.”

  Her eyes light up. The emerald menace in them sparkles with life.

  “Perfect! I owe that piece of shit.”

  “Exactly. So long as we get Kazawa’s location first.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Some place called Octopus Bar. You know it?”

  She nods. “I do. It’s a karaoke bar just across the river.”

  I roll my eyes. “Karaoke? Really? For fuck’s sake…”

  She laughs as she starts up the engine. “You’re going to love it!”

  “Yeah, only because I get to shoot whoever’s singing for once.”

  She pulls away from the curb, turns out of the alley, and we’re soon lost in the hustle of a midday Tokyo.

  19

  17:27 JST

  I spent most of the afternoon asleep on the sofa, recharging my batteries after the exertion in the tattoo studio earlier. Ruby, for the most part, left me in peace to rest, but I’m guessing she’s now bored.

  How do I know?

  The TV is blasting out, and she’s just sat down heavily on the sofa beside me, jolting me back to the land of the living.

  Let’s be honest. She’s not exactly subtle, is she?

  I shuffle upright and crack my neck.

  “Oh, are you awake?” she asks with a wry smile.

  I turn to her, raising a tired eyebrow. “Apparently.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I shrug. “Sure.”

  “That guy in the tattoo parlor earlier that you obviously killed… did you, by any chance, do anything out of the ordinary while you were there?”

  “Um... such as?”

  “Such as tattoo ‘FUCK YOU KAZAWA’ on his forehead, using your bullet hole for the O.”

  I laugh, embarrassed. “How did, ah… how did you know that?”

  She looks at me with mock disappointment and points to the TV. I look over at the screen. It’s a news report showing a police cordon outside the tattoo place. Subtitles are flashing across the bottom of the screen. The name of the guy is displayed beneath an image of his body that’s dominating one corner of the screen. There’s a warning to viewers about the graphic content. The reporter is saying police suspect it was a Yakuza-related hit.

  I look back at her and shrug. “Thought it would be nice to say hi, that’s all.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Don’t you think that was a little reckless?”

  I laugh. “Come on, Ruby. You’re the last person on Earth to question any reckless behavior.”

  She looks dejected. “I’m not reckless…”

  “Besides, only Kazawa is gonna know that was me, which is the point. He won’t know what, if anything, that ass-hat told me before I killed him, so we still have the element of surprise. No harm done. If we’re lucky, it might just piss him off enough to come up for air… at which point I can smash his fucking head off his shoulders.”

  Her expression softens, and a smile creeps across her face. “Yeah, okay. I’ll let you off.”

  “Gee, thanks…”

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  I shrug. “Yeah, why?”

  “You’re sweating, despite the fact it’s October. Just worried you might have a fever or something.”

  I run a hand across my brow. It’s soaking. I still feel really drowsy too, despite being asleep for… what? Four hours, almost? Christ.

  “Huh. No, I feel fine, honestly. Maybe a little dehydrated. Could you grab me a glass of water?”

  She smiles patiently, then gets gracefully to her feet, running her hand faintly over my shoulder as she does. “Yeah, of course.”

  She glides into the kitchen. I sink back into the sofa.

  Man, I feel like crap! I’m still half-asleep, but my heart seems to think I’m running a marathon. I bring my right hand to my face, massaging my temples for a second. It then starts to shake.

  Oh, for crying out loud… not this again.

  I look around for my Oxy-whatever-it’s-called. They always help with the tremors, as well as take the edge off everything else that’s hurting right now.

  Where are they?

  Oh, yeah, my jacket. I get to my feet and take one step toward the coat hook on the wall over by the door. I need to—

  …

  …

  …

  “Whoa!”

  I land heavily on the floor, my head narrowly avoiding the corner of the coffee table.

  “Adrian!” Ruby appears, rushing over to me and kneeling at my side. She places her hand on my chest. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  That’s a very good question. What did happen? I got up, and then the floor came rushing toward me.

  “I… I think so. I must’ve tripped or something.”

  “No, Adrian—you fell. Like, passed out. Collapsed.” Her tone is full of concern but also a hint of anger. “You’re not well. You shouldn’t be going after Kazawa in your condition. You should rest.”

  “I’m fine, honestly.” I roll over on my side and prop myself up with my elbow. “I just need to get a little more rest, and I’ll be good to go.”

  I push myself up to one knee. Try to stand. I make it halfway upright before toppling over again, this time onto the sofa.

  “That’s it,” says Ruby, firmly. “I’m calling the hospital.”


  “No!” I crawl onto the sofa, lean back, and turn to face her. “Just… stop it, Ruby! Stop it! Stop… smothering me. You’re not my fucking mother! I’m fine. Just listen to me. I’m fine! Do you understand? I don’t need you…”

  My words trail off. I don’t know how I managed to stop myself from talking. I just vaguely realized I was talking, yet I have no idea what I was saying. I look at Ruby. The color has drained from her cheeks. Her eyes are wide and glistening with tears.

  Shit.

  “Look, I just need to… I need to…”

  Oh, man, I think I’m going to—

  I twist quickly to my side, just in time to vomit over the arm of the sofa. It feels like everything I’ve eaten in the last twenty years just decided to leave my body.

  What’s wrong with me?

  I look back at Ruby. The image of her is blurry. The color is leaving my surroundings. I don’t feel so good. I feel myself falling again. I really don’t—

  18:02 JST

  It feels as if I have a dumbbell attached to each eyelid. I try to open them, but they seem weighted closed.

  “Adrian?”

  That’s Ruby’s voice. I’m on something comfortable and soft. I remember blacking out, and there’s no way she’d be able to get me to my bed on her own, so I’m guessing it’s the sofa.

  I try to answer her, but my throat feels full of sand. I hear an illegible murmur, which I think came from me.

  What the hell happened to me? I haven’t felt this bad since that time Josh took me to a bar to watch a soccer match and insisted we drank pints of Guinness—which I remember had the look, consistency, and taste of tar.

  Something cold and damp rests on my forehead. It feels good. I’m so hot, it’s making me short of breath.

  “You’re okay, Adrian,” says Ruby’s voice. “Just try to relax.”

  It takes me three attempts to swallow and clear my throat.

  “W-what happened?”

  She sighs patiently. “You were sick—which was all kinds of gross, by the way—and then you passed out like a little girl.”

  I manage a small smile. Her own special brand of sympathy.

  “And for the record,” she continues, “I’m not cleaning that up.”

  I nod. “Fair… enough.”

  “Come on. Sit up and drink some water.”

  I feel her tugging on my arms. I do my best to assist, and before I know it, I’m sitting upright, leaning back into the soft, worn sofa cushions. A cool glass is thrust into my hand. My arm is then raised by a gentle push on my wrist. I take a couple of sips and try once again to open my eyes.

  Blurry light materializes in front of me. I blink rapidly to clear the fog and focus. I see Ruby’s face. She’s smiling, but it’s more from sympathy than happiness, I think. She’s crouching in front of me. Her hands rest on my legs for balance.

  It’s good to see her.

  “You good?” she asks.

  “Been better. Been worse.”

  “Yeah… I know. Listen, Adrian, I’m gonna ask you something now, and I need you to be honest with me, okay?”

  I nod slowly.

  “I mean actually honest, numbnuts. Don’t just shrug away my concerns or lie and say you’re fine. I want the truth. I deserve that. You owe me that.”

  This sounds serious…

  I nod again. “Okay. Shoot.”

  She holds up my bottle of pain meds. “How many of these have you taken?”

  I think about it. I’m not hesitating because I don’t want to tell her. I genuinely don’t know. Not for sure.

  I shrug. “Enough that nothing hurts. Why?”

  She slowly unscrews the cap and tips the bottle up, emptying the contents into her palm. I look down. I see two pills in her hand.

  “You’re supposed to take one every twelve hours. That’s two a day. This bottle was supposed to last you three weeks.”

  “Okay…”

  “Adrian, it’s almost empty after three days! Do you have any idea how dangerous this shit is if you O.D. on it?”

  I wave her away. “Ruby, please. I’m not—”

  She reaches over and slaps me hard across the face. My eyes snap open with surprise. I stare at her, shocked. My cheek’s stinging. She has a good left hook.

  “Don’t you dare dismiss me, you sanctimonious sonofabitch!” She waves the empty bottle in front of me. “These things will fucking kill you, Adrian! Do you understand that? Are you listening to me? We did not go through everything we’ve been through for you to kill yourself like some low-life fucking junkie. You’re better than that! You deserve better than that! How dare you…”

  She trails off as she starts sobbing uncontrollably. She buries her face into my lap, her body shuddering with heavy whimpers. I feel her tears gently soaking my legs.

  Does she… does she think I did this on purpose or something? How could she think I would ever try to kill myself with pills? She knows better than most, if I ever got to the point where I’d had enough, I’d eat a bullet.

  Pills?

  No. That’s crazy. I just need to take the edge off. I need to appear strong. I need to be strong to go after Miley and Kazawa. Plus, these things stop my tremors, which is a bonus, given I intend to aim my gun at lots of people before this war is over.

  I just needed help pushing through the pain. That’s all. Miley did a real number on me. There’s no denying that. If I didn’t have a little help, I wouldn’t have made it out of hospital, let alone tracked down Ko.

  No… Ruby is just emotional. She’s not thinking straight. We’ve both been through a lot. Maybe I have neglected her a little. I’ve been so caught up in how everything that’s happened has affected me, I’ve not thought about how it’s affected her. She just needs me to—

  I swear to God, if I could, I’d slap you!

  Josh?

  Yes, it’s Josh. Satan’s here too, but he can’t talk right now because he’s so fucking angry at you.

  I must be losing it. The voices in my head are reprimanding me.

  You’re goddamn right we are, asshole! Look at her. Look how upset she is. You think she’s pissed at you? You think she’s being overly sensitive? You’re a jackass.

  I don’t understand.

  …

  …

  …

  You know you have issues when you can actually hear the voices in your head face-palm themselves with frustration.

  She loves you, you freakin’ idiot! And you’ve hurt her because yes… you are a low-life junkie!

  No, I’m not. Don’t start with me. I’m not in the mood. I just needed—

  Oh, you just needed… Sounds a lot like an excuse to me. You know who else makes excuses for upsetting people close to them when they get caught? Drug addicts!

  No, they don’t…

  Think about it, asshole. The extra painkiller here and there for your tremor. Hiding the fact you were taking more of the Oxycodone than you should’ve been. You knew it was wrong—why else would you hide it?

  Crap. I have a point.

  Fine.

  I place a hand on the back of Ruby’s head and gently stroke her hair. She looks up. Her make-up has formed dark streams down her cheeks. Her eyes are glazed with tears. She stares at me with total vulnerability, as if she has no control over her emotions. I know she would never allow herself to be like that in front of anyone.

  Except me.

  We have a bond very few people could ever understand. Forged in conflict. Strengthened by tragedy. And I’ve abused that bond… that trust, by taking it for granted and lying to her. I know I can rely on her for anything. Why couldn’t I admit to her I wasn’t ready for this? Why couldn’t I say I was struggling?

  “Ruby, I’m sorry.”

  She sniffs back her tears. Straightens her body and rests back on her feet. Crosses her arms defiantly.

  “For what, exactly?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what, precisely, are you sorry for?”
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  I go to speak but stop myself. This is the kind of thing I need to get right. Say the wrong thing here, and I’ll push her away even farther. Maybe forever.

  I take a deep breath. It hurts, but I ignore it.

  Here goes nothing.

  “I’m sorry for not being straight with you about how much I’m struggling.”

  She holds my gaze for a long moment.

  “Struggling with what?”

  “With… everything. Take your pick! Breathing, blinking, moving in general. Miley damn near killed me, Ruby.” I hold up my right hand. “This hasn’t been the same since Dubai. I struggle holding a gun in my dominant hand. Not a great problem to have for someone in my line of work. Especially now. I need to be at my best. I need to be strong. I need to be Adrian Hell. I can’t do that in my condition. Those pills, whatever’s in them… they help. They keep the pain and the tremors and the doubts at bay. They allow me to be who I need to be.”

  “Yes, Adrian, but at what cost? Look at you. I did a little research while you were out cold. It wasn’t exactly hard to find. Everything you’re feeling right now, they’re side effects of these pills. They’re what happens if you become addicted and then try to quit.”

  I frown. “But… at the risk of making myself appear worse, I’m not trying to quit. I’m trying to take more.”

  “Exactly. You’ve overdosed on them to the point where they’re affecting you in the same way. You have so much of this shit in your system right now, it’s beyond belief. These tablets will kill you, Adrian. They say to take one every twelve hours for a damn good reason.”

  “Yeah… I’m beginning to see the flaw in my logic.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me you were struggling?” She leans forward again, resting her forearms on my legs. “We’ve been through so much together. We’re both still here because we’re good at what we do. Because we’re smart. Picking your battles is not a sign of weakness, you know? We lost this one. Our enemy was crazy prepared for a fight we didn’t know we were having. There’s nothing wrong with biding our time before we retaliate.”

  “Except we can’t, can we?”

  “Why not? It’s the smart thing to do, Adrian. You’re good. Even at fifty percent, you’re twice as good as most of the professionals out there. But you’re not at fifty percent. You’re in single digits, and that’s being generous. Going up against an entire Yakuza family out of pride at this point is suicide. We both know it.”