Chemical Burn (32 page)
Authors: Quincy J. Allen
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Dystopian
They faced one another again, and Yvgenny ran his left hand over where Tommy had connected. He nodded his head thoughtfully.
“Justin warned me about your left,” Yvgenny said calmly. Tommy smiled wickedly as he wiped blood off the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “However, I have to wondering what he was worried about.” The smile evaporated off Tommy’s face, replaced with an angry grimace. Yvgenny smiled at Tommy as he would a disobedient child.
“I’m gonna wipe that smile off your face, you old bastard,” Tommy snarled.
“Then what are you waiting for? Perhaps panties are being too tight?”
Tommy closed with Yvgenny quickly, winding up with his right, telegraphing the beginning of the combo the Russian already knew was coming. He braced himself and tensed to block as much of Tommy’s assault as he could. Again, he was willing to take a little punishment. He wanted to wear the Italian down in preparation for the endgame. He’d fought men like this many times, and it always ended the same.
The right sailed straight at Yvgenny’s face, so he leaned in towards Tommy’s left to shorten that distance and reduce the impact, his forearm deflecting it. Tommy’s left rose quickly in an uppercut, which Yvgenny leaned back to avoid. Tommy brought his knee up, but Yvgenny expected it and drifted his thigh in to block it. The left came around in a hook that was easily blocked, and then the right came in again, grazing Yvgenny’s already turning face.
Yvgenny jabbed with his right, forcing Tommy to block and terminating the combination. He followed with his left, and Tommy blocked that, too.
The Russian stepped back and took a look at Tommy who breathed a little heavier now. Yvgenny’s breathing came slowly and calmly.
It is working
, the old man thought to himself.
He came at the Italian, not wanting to give any time to rest, and threw up a series of left jabs, baiting Tommy. Tommy blocked each one casually … one … two … three … four jabs went out.
Yvgenny set the rhythm up and then, on the fifth, he flinched with his left. As Tommy’s hand went up automatically, it found nothing but air. Yvgenny’s right came in like a freight train as he planted his back foot and hammered into Tommy’s jaw as hard as he could. Tommy’s block came entirely too late, followed by an ugly sound of bone on bone that twisted his head around and back. He spilled over a table, tumbling to the other side, but came up fast. He shook his head to clear his vision. He stood there for a few seconds, sizing up the Russian and breathing even heavier.
Yvgenny smirked at him and walked around the table. His hands came up, and he led with a right this time that Tommy easily blocked. He sent in a left-right-left combo, and one of them landed just as Tommy caught him with a jab to the face. Tommy pounced on the opportunity and sent a flurry of left-right hooks, pressing Yvgenny back, fists impacting solidly on the old man’s burly, tattooed forearms. Yvgenny kept backing up, drawing Tommy into another trap.
The blows hammered home. On the fifth step backwards, Yvgenny suddenly reversed his motion and stepped into the Italian, raising his arms in a fast arc and closing around both of Tommy’s arms as the Italian wound up for another punch. Tommy’s face was at a perfect level, and Yvgenny didn’t hesitate. He smashed his forehead once, twice, a third. Then he released Tommy, stepped back, and planted a boot in Tommy’s gut, pushing off and sending the big Italian backwards over another table.
Tommy got to his hands and knees slowly as blood poured out of his shattered nose and bloody mouth. He spat out two front teeth. Yvgenny felt a trickle running down the middle of his forehead then down between his nose and cheek. He ran a hand over his forehead and discovered where Tommy’s teeth had gashed his skin.
Tommy scooted out of view behind the table, and then Yvgenny watched it lift up and come straight at him. He put his hands out to block it, but Tommy put everything he had into the charge.
Yvgenny flew back and slammed into the wall. The back of his head hit a shelf, and the table smashed into his face hard with a massive crash. It was Yvgenny’s turn to see stars. Through a fog the old Russian saw the table fly as Tommy tossed it aside. It bounced off a wall, landing near Antonio’s corpse.
A right fist came out of the fog and hammered into Yvgenny’s face, spinning his head around. A powerful left came in low and caught him in the belly, and he grunted with the impact, bending over slightly but keeping his breath. Before Tommy’s next punch was in flight, fury took hold of the old man. He shook his head, and the fog melted away just as a right came down at his cheek. He twisted his head, turning it into a glancing blow. The left came in hard and fast, and he blocked it,
barely
. Tommy pulled back with his right again and let fly, but Yvgenny was ready, set up for the finale. In flew the right, directly on target.
Yvgenny’s left hand went up and grabbed the fist, stopping it cold. He lowered his right hand nearly to his knees and closed it into a hammer-fist. He brought the right up fast, lifting with his arm, shoulders and legs all at once. His fist caught Tommy directly below the chin. Teeth exploded in Tommie’s mouth, and his head snapped back like the lid of a Jack-in-the-box as his body lifted off the ground several feet. He flew back limply and came down hard on the floor, his arms and legs flopping like rubber.
Yvgenny leapt atop his prey, straddling Tommy’s chest and pinning his arms. The lion raised his right fist—a thing someone should have warned Tommy about—and brought it down like a pile driver. Tommy’s nose and cheeks collapsed with the impact. The left went up and came down, rupturing his eyes and crushing his upper jaw. The right came down and caved in the whole of Tommy’s face. Yvgenny’s fist sunk in almost to the wrist in what was left of Tommy’s features.
The battered Russian raised his fist again to send another blow hammering down into his opponent, but stopped as he drew it back and stared at his fist and the mess that covered it. He was breathing heavily now, and his body ached. He stood up and looked down at what he had done.
“
Unbreakable
,” he said to the ruined husk lying on the floor. Yvgenny walked slowly over to the sink at the wait station and washed off his hands. He could still feel blood running down his face.
Reaching into a cupboard, he grabbed a kettle and filled it up. He entered the kitchen, set the kettle on, ignited the burner, and then headed back to the office for the first-aid kit. He set the kit on one of the dining tables and waited for the kettle to boil. It would be a while before Justin got back.
***
Alley Cat
I stood in the tea room and scanned the street. Seeing no one, I glanced at the slim tracker in my hand. It sent out pulses and read the reflected data, translating it into a blocky but useable outline of the surrounding area. It worked off matter density at the atomic level and was a key component in the work I used to do. Its range was limited to about a half-mile in metropolitan areas but could track at five miles out in the open.
It picked up Magdelain’s implant about eight blocks away. She moved slowly south. I checked the street one last time and stepped out into the night, invisible. I darted across the street and turned down the alley, following Mag and Bennie as they traveled through the city. They appeared to be moving in a straight line. What a vile moron, I thought as I jogged through the darkness. I loosened the reins on the old me, feeling a mixture of guilt and delight about what I intended. It was time for Bennie to pony up for all the shit he’d done in his life.
I slid into an easy, silent jog, closing in on Mag’s position. She’d slowed to almost a crawl for a short distance and then stopped moving completely. I was back in my old life. Justin Case disappeared and Jalin took over.
Much of what I had done for my old masters involved exactly what I was doing now—hunting … and killing. Mag would get on the trail of our prey, I would move in, and we would close the deal … except, now it was righteous. Bennie had it coming. I smiled wickedly. I’d been programmed—designed—to enjoy the hunt and the kill. Damn those bastards who’d made me, I thought as I jogged.
I reached another cross street and stepped back into the shadows. Mag hid in the next alley, motionless against a wall. Peeking around the corner, I waited for a car to pass by. When it turned down the next street, I ran across the pavement, found a shadow to disappear into, and peeked down the alley. I found a spot just inside the alley where I could crouch and get a feel for the area. I memorized every shadow, every outline of box and dumpster, all of it.
Only three pools of light shone between the far end of the alley and me, highlighting doors along the way. Office buildings towered above me. I peeked around the corner and saw a flicker of Mag’s coat as she briefly shifted to a visible pattern. She stared at me from atop one of two dumpsters along the wall, and her tail twitched in anticipation. She motioned with her head for me to come over. Then she disappeared again. Bennie is here, I thought, and Mag is right on top of him.
I crept down the alley as silently as Mag had, and as I approached the dumpster, I picked up Bennie’s heavy breathing. I snuck up and could finally make out Mag’s faint outline. She hadn’t moved from the dumpster, but now appeared to be looking down at something on the far side. I heard quiet gasping, so I stepped up to the edge of the dumpster and peered around the corner. Bennie sat on the pavement, his back against the wall with his gold .45 resting in his lap.
The idiot had both hands on the ground and was doing a poor job of being quiet while he tried to regain his breath. I stepped back a pace, reached out, and touched Mag on her haunches, motioning for her to come to the edge of the dumpster.
“Take the gun,” I whispered in her ear, as quiet as a ghost. A few seconds later Bennie yelped, and I saw Mag’s faint blur as she shot out from between the dumpsters. She had the gun gripped in her mouth. She snaked around the far side of dumpster in a flash and stood in the middle of the alley.
“What the fuck was that?” Bennie whispered in horror. His gasped fast and heavy now, his eyes filled with terror.
I whispered into the air over the dumpster, “I’m coming for you, Bennie,” and then I kicked the far dumpster as hard as I could. The
BOOM
echoed through the alley, and Bennie screamed as the dumpster shot away from us, rolling to a stop fifteen feet away.
Still invisible, I came around the corner, grabbed Bennie’s jacket lapels, heaved him into the air, and chucked him towards the dumpster. He screamed in terror, landed with a thud, and groaned with the impact. Quickly regaining his senses, he scrambled to his feet much faster than I thought the fast bastard was capable of. The mobster scanned the darkness, his head spinning left and right. He jammed his hand into a pocket and pulled out a switchblade.
“Where the fuck are you?” he yelled into the shadows.
“That’s a fair question, Bennie,” I said quietly, “one that deserves an answer.” I pulled the hood back. My head was visible now, silhouetted in the streetlight behind me. Bennie’s eyes got wide. “It’s okay Mag, you can show yourself. There’s no need to hide from this piece of shit.” Mag came up beside me, the gun still in her mouth. I reached down, took the gun, and scratched her behind the ears.
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck are you?”
“Well, aren’t you full of intelligent questions tonight.” I said, my voice full of venom. “Not that the answers are going to do you much good.” I held up the .45, pressed the clip release and let the full clip clatter to the pavement. Then I opened the breach and locked the slide in place. I looked down at the gun with a thoughtful look on my face. “You know, you really should keep one chambered. It’s faster, and with a semi-auto, you don’t have to worry about it going off till you cock it. At least you reloaded it,” I added with disgust. “You’re really not a very good gangster, are you? And another thing, do you have any idea how ridiculous this gun is? You’re a joke, Bennie … a soft, frightened, incompetent joke.”
I threw the gun into a pile of trash beside him. “And I could forgive all that, even with a slug like you. But tonight you crossed a line I don’t let people cross.” I glared. “Those were little girls, Bennie … and friends of mine.”
I strode towards him like a juggernaut. Unstoppable. He slashed at me with the switchblade as I approached. I leaned away from the first slash, blocked the second, and then slapped Bennie hard across the face. He went down to a knee and glared up at me. I stepped away, giving him room to stand back up. He got to his feet and looked behind him. It might as well be miles to the end of the alley.
“That’s an interesting idea,” I observed, “but if you run for it, I’ll have the cat chase you down and rip your belly open. Right, Mag?”
Mag took a step towards him and growled, low and steady.
“Keep that fucking thing away from me!” Bennie shouted.
“I’m considering it, Bennie,” I said in a friendly tone. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one, though, while I figure out how bad I want to kill you myself. I keep coming back to the thought of you and your boys burying those two girls in a shallow grave somewhere. And, frankly, it pisses me off.”
“We were just using them as bait, Case. I swear! We were after you. We were gonna let ’em go! Honest!”
“You’re not the kind of guy who leaves witnesses, are you? I mean, you’re stupid, but even I know you’re not that stupid. And I’m pretty sure Gino didn’t send you after a well-connected Russian mobster by way of his granddaughters. He knows better. If Nikolov found out about this, what do you think would happen? You assholes would have to send a whole family of goombahs to his slaughterhouse as compensation, wouldn’t you?”
Bennie looked at me wide-eyed, probably trying to figure out how I knew about that.
“The only thing that figures is that you came up with this gargantuan piece of idiocy all by yourself, you fat little turd.”
Bennie glared at me and tightened his grip on the knife. The old me cut lose, and I didn’t do a thing to hold him back. I let Bennie slash and stab at me a few times, avoiding it easily, and then let fly with another slap across the other side of his face, putting him down on his knees again.
Bennie screamed as he came up fast with the knife, a lot faster than I would ever have given him credit for. I could have blocked it, but I wanted to make a point. The blade hit home below my rib cage, dead center. I winced as it went in, grunting with the impact. Bennie followed with a pretty good left that glanced off my cheek as I turned with it.
I shoved Bennie back hard with both hands, bouncing him off the dumpster. I stood there, a condescending look on my face. Bennie stared back in terror, breathing deeply and waiting for me to drop to the ground.
“Not bad. Not bad at all. But I’m going to let you in on a little secret.…” I placed my hand on the hilt of the blade and slowly pulled it out. I wiped the blood off on my pants and slowly closed the knife. I stared at him with dead eyes … a shark’s eyes. Cold. Merciless. Hungry. “I’m a fucking alien, Bennie. That’s why you couldn’t kill me with that cheesy pistol, couldn’t kill me with the airplane, and couldn’t kill me with this toy.”
I slipped it into a pocket and took one step forward. Bennie backed up, his eyes wide with horror. Mag moved in behind me, knowing this was the end and savoring it as much as I did.
I closed the space between us, and Bennie took a desperate swing at my head. I leaned out of it, stepped to the left and kicked Bennie’s shoulder, knocking him face first into the brick wall. Bennie bounced off and staggered back towards me, twisting as he moved. I shot out a fast sidekick into his mid-section. He stopped dead in his tracks, gasping for air. I followed up with a knee to his face, sending him back into the wall again. The tricky part was that I didn’t want to kill him or knock him out yet. I had to pull my punches and kicks just enough to hurt him, and the old me wanted to hurt him a lot.
Bennie slid down the wall, but I grabbed him and pulled him back up to his feet. I got nose to nose with him. I wanted to see the pain there, but his eyes rolled back in his head. I guess I hadn’t pulled it enough. Not my lucky day, I thought.
“Time to pay the tab.” I said with cold finality, and I have to admit, I was hungry for it.
I grabbed Bennie’s tie tightly in my hand, and then, with a fast shove, spun him around to face the wall, holding him there. I turned quickly away from the wall.
We were back-to-back. I crouched quickly, pressed my back into Bennie’s shoulders and stood up, pinning the fat son-of-a-bitch to the wall. I pulled as hard as I could on the tie and held it.
Bennie flailed his arms and legs, making pathetic gurgling and gasping noises. His face swelled, turned blue. He gripped at the tie digging into his neck and tried to pry it away from his collapsed windpipe. He struggled for a while and then finally went limp. I held him there for a couple of minutes, waiting for his foot to stop twitching, then I released the tie and stepped away from the wall.
Bennie DiMarco’s corpse hit the pavement in a heap of limp arms and legs.
I stepped away from the body, turned, and looked at him. His tongue lolled out of a purple face like a dead dog’s. I spat once. “Good riddance, you piece of shit,” I said quietly. I put my hood back on and headed back to the teahouse to make sure Yvgenny hadn’t underestimated the big Italian.
***
