Control (Shift) (2 page)

“Like I said,” I said. “I’m here to fight.”

She looked from me to Dave and then laughed again: a hoarse, dirty laugh. “You got balls, boy. I’ll give you that.” She slapped her hand on my back and grabbed a fist full of my jacket. “Whether you still have them by the end of the fight, well, that remains to be seen.”

She pushed me ahead of her through the doors.

“You should have let me try my Lolita routine,” Aubrey said, as we entered the darkened warehouse.

“You did. It didn’t work.”

Aubrey looked offended for a second and then was distracted by a loud roar from inside.

A crowd of men was gathered around what I assumed was a boxing ring, although it looked more like a cage. A scrawny man clung to the chain-link fence, blood flowing freely from his mouth. He slowly slid down the fence and collapsed in an unconscious heap on the floor. A bell sounded and the crowd cheered as he was dragged out by one leg.

The man standing in the ring, his fists raised, drinking in the applause, was none other than Jack Glenn. Bonecrusher himself.

It made me sick looking at him, bouncing up and down as the crowd cheered his name. Sure he was huge and had fists bigger than most men’s heads. But that wasn’t why he was winning all these fights. He was winning them because he was cheating. And he was able to cheat because a Shifter kid somewhere had had their brain sliced open as a part of Project Ganymede. And I was about to put an end to it.

Joey dragged us through the crowd and towards the ring. She stopped in front of a man so short he had to stand on a tea crate to be eye height with the rest of the spectators. He wore a tiny, brown hat perched on the side of his head and was smoking a cigar so massive it looked ridiculous in his tiny hands. Joey spoke in the dwarf’s ear and pointed at us. He had pretty much the same reaction as Joey. He threw his head back and laughed. Then Joey pointed to the exit where Dave was standing, his arms firmly crossed. His nose was swollen and purple already. The dwarf laughed even harder this time. So hard that I thought he was going to fall off his crate.

“Are you sure about this?” Aubrey said, looking up at Glenn, who was now doing chin ups from a bar running across the top of the cage. She looked cute when she was concerned, with that small wrinkle between her eyebrows I’d come to adore.

“I’m never sure about anything, Aubrey.”

The dwarf calmed down enough to beckon me over.

“What’s your name, kid?” he shouted.

“Scott. Scott Tyler.”

“Oh, dear, no. That will never do. We can’t have you going up against Bonecrusher with a weak name like that.”

“His friends call him the Pylon,” Aubrey chipped in.

“The Pylon, hey?” He looked me up and down. “You are kinda lanky. OK, the Pylon it is.” He cleared his throat and reached for a microphone hanging over his head. “And next into the ring,” his voice boomed over the sound of the crowd, “to face the invincible, thirty-six-time undefeated Bonecrusher, a newcomer who has everything to prove and a long way to climb. It’s… the Pylon.”

The crowd booed and jeered at my name. Some of them threw half-full cans at the cage, drenching me in warm beer. At least, I hoped it was beer.

“Well, go on kid, get in the ring,” the dwarf said. “We don’t have all night.”

I clambered up the stacked boxes that served as steps, ignoring the pool of blood from the previous contender. The booing turned into laughter when I entered the ring. I slipped off my jacket, pulled my T-shirt over my head and threw them to Aubrey.

“Go get ‘em Pylon,” she said and winked. The cage door was shut behind me.

I looked out at the crowd. They were already betting furiously on just how quickly I would go down.

I faced Bonecrusher for the first time. Up close he was even more terrifying. His hair was shaved close to his scalp, revealing a crisscross of white scars. But the scar on his forehead was the deepest of all. The scar that gave him away as a beneficiary of Ganymede.

He looked me up and down, as if wondering whether I was going to be worth his while. Then shrugged and stretched his neck. It cracked loudly.

“I don’t know what you got to prove, boyo,” he said, spitting on the floor of the cage. “But I’ll try and make this as quick as possible.”

I just smiled.

The dwarf rang his bell and the fight began.

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

Glenn strode towards me, not even bothering to put his fists up, and lazily aimed a punch for my head.

I waited till the very last second and then side stepped it with ease. The momentum sent him staggering forward a few steps. He righted himself and looked a little shaken.

And that’s when the real fun and games began.

He half closed his eyes and dropped his head back, as if enjoying the feeling of a gentle breeze on his face. Everyone had a different way of bringing on a Shift. Some squinted. Others stared into the distance. This was his way.

I started to count down from ten.

Eight
. He opened his eyes and looked around, startled. Then shook his head and tried again.

Six
. This time, he scrunched his face up in concentration so much his eyes disappeared beneath his Neanderthal brow. He was starting to look constipated.

Three
. His eyes snapped open and he staggered back, looking shocked and, I was pleased to notice, a little scared.

One
.

“What the…?”

“Scott Tyler, Fixer, Third Class,
boyo
,” I said. “Which means: you’re Fixed.”

I wish I’d had a camera to take a picture of the expression on his face. It was priceless. It went from fear to confusion, to shock, to fear again and then settled on anger. He looked as if he was having a fit. All because I was stopping him from undoing his decisions. Fixing was a power only a few Shifters had. It meant we could stop other Shifters from undoing their decisions, because our willpower was stronger. I didn’t usually like using the power, because it made me feel like a kind of psychic bully. But today, looking at Glenn’s face, it was worth it.

He went bright red and breathed out of his nostrils, like a bull ready to attack. This was not the fight he had been expecting.

“Jack Glenn, as empowered by ARES I hereby charge you with–” He didn’t let me finish.

He charged, clearing the space between us in two long strides. He was so fast I had to Shift in order to flip over his back and out of the way, and he went crashing into the fence behind me.

The crowd booed their dissatisfaction. They’d paid to see men beat each other into a bloody pulp, not jump around.

Glenn pushed himself away from the fence and roared at the crowd to shut up, before turning back to me.

Now he knew what he was up against, he was going to be more cautious. He raised both fists under his chin and came at me, bouncing left and right, his head twitching as he watched for any coming attacks.

He faked low and punched high. I blocked the blow aimed for my left cheek and countered with a punch to his throat. I was a good Shifter. Maybe a great one, if the rumours I heard at ARES were to believed. But I was also a bit handy when it came to martial arts. A black belt in kickboxing, not to mention a year of training at ARES. Bonecrusher was finally going to get a fair fight.

Glenn choked, unable to breathe, yet still managed to flail at me, trying to grapple me around the head. I easily spun out of the way and finished with a back kick to his thigh that drove him down onto one knee. He must have become so used to going up against drunks and washed-up fighters he’d forgotten the basics. Well, I was about to give him a refresher course.

He stood up, clutching at his throat and dragging his back foot slightly. I saw him clench his jaw trying to fight back the pain. I’d give him one thing: he wasn’t a quitter.

Glenn came at me again, throwing out rapid-fire jabs. I only just managed to dodge the blows as his anvil fists brushed the hair on the side of my head.

I didn’t see the sidekick and for a moment all I knew was white-hot pain exploding from my knee. I managed to focus enough to Shift and the pain vanished. This time I managed to grab his foot before it connected. I held it as Glenn and I looked at each other. His eyes begged me to let him go. But the echo of the pain tingled like an image afterburn and I wasn’t in a forgiving mood. I twisted his foot. He went spinning around and landed heavily on the floor.

“Just give up,” I said. “This is one fight you’re not going to win.”

The crowd started to cheer again, but I couldn’t work out what they were saying. Even if I managed to persuade Glenn to come with me, I might have them to contend with. I looked out of the cage, trying to find Aubrey to check she was OK. I found her jumping up and down, shadow boxing and looking like she was having a great time. Alright for some, I thought.

I didn’t see Glenn get to his feet and before I knew it, he’d grabbed me in a headlock and was squeezing hard. I thought about Shifting, then decided I wanted to settle this the old-fashioned way. I pressed against his face with my left hand, while punching his knee with my right. Sergeant Cain had called that move the “back breaker”. Glenn cried out and let go. He staggered back, gasping for breath, his face now the colour of beetroot. Time to end this. I aimed a punch straight for his groin. I wasn’t that old-fashioned.

He doubled over, making little gurgling noises. I spun on my back heel, flipping my foot around in a roundhouse, which connected with his jaw. Spittle and blood sprayed across the floor of the cage as Bonecrusher toppled.

The crowd went suddenly silent. Men who had bet sure money on me going down in five seconds now stared open mouthed, dirty bank notes clutched in their hands. I wondered if they would all turn on me, pissed that I’d lost them money. But slowly they started to clap and then cheer and finally whoop.

The dwarf reached for his microphone again. “Unbelievable! A first time contender takes down Bonecrusher in...” he checked his watch. “In one minute and thirty six seconds. Let’s hear it for the electrifying… Pylon!”

The cheers grew louder and a chanted started up.

“Pylon. Pylon. Pylon.”

I raised my hands in victory and turned in circles.

“Hey, Rocky,” Aubrey shouted up. I snapped out of my reverie to see her pointing behind me. I turned to see Glenn making a swift exit out of the cage and through the crowd.

I chased after him, but my way was blocked by people patting me on the back and trying to shake my hand.

“You got something, kid. You could make some big money. Stick with me and I’ll see you right,” the dwarf shouted, his cigar bouncing around between his clenched teeth.

“Where did he go?” I said, trying to see over the press of people.

“What? Bonecrusher? Forget about him. You’re my new kid now.”

I pushed the dwarf away so hard he went toppling off his crate and into the crowd below. I shouted at people to get out of my way and elbowed them aside. When I finally broke free of the audience, I saw the back door swing closed.

I slammed the doors open and looked left and right. I just caught sight of Glenn cutting down an alleyway that ran from the canal back towards the city centre. I chased after him, instantly feeling the cold night air on my bare chest.

I turned into the alley and was hit in the face with a green wheelie bin. I staggered back, unable to see for the pinpoints of lights dancing before my eyes. I shook my head.

Glenn slammed the bin at me a second time, knocking me off my feet. He turned and leaped to grab hold of a wall at the end of the alley. He chin-lifted himself over it effortlessly.

I clambered back onto my feet and shoved the bin out of the way with a growl. Glenn was going to pay for that. I raced at the wall and seconds before slamming into it, I leapt, planting one foot on the wall to the left, springing off it, and grabbing hold of the wall in front of me. It was a neat free-running move I’d been practising for months and this was the first time I’d pulled it off without needing to Shift my way out of head-butting brick. It still needed work though. I had the most tenuous of grips on the wall and had to scrabble with my feet to get purchase. Finally, I managed to pull myself up, and swung over.

I landed heavily on the other side, the shock sending tingles of pain up my shins. Glenn was waiting. He smiled as if he was actually impressed.

“Well, well, looks like you’re one of ARES’ finest. I’m honoured. But what does the old agency want with me now?”

“You know full well what they want,” I said, straightening up. “We’re shutting down Project Ganymede, once and for all.”

Glenn nodded as if that was a perfectly reasonable request. Then he got that glazed expression I knew only too well. He was trying to Shift: trying to change some choice he’d made along the way that brought him here, change the reality he found himself in by undoing his choices. Only that wasn’t going to happen.

I sighed before I said it. It was becoming a bit of a cliché. “Are you going to come quietly?”

He looked to his left where the road led to a busy street and then to his right where it led to a warren of council flats. He was breathing hard, whereas I had hardly built up a sweat. He knew he couldn’t outrun me. There was only one thing for it. He was going to fight.

He reached down, hiked up his trouser leg, and pulled out a large, jagged knife from a calf sheath: all black blade and holes bored out for extra lightness. Military issue, I knew. I’d come up against one of these three months ago when we were tracking down number five. That guy had not gone quietly at all. In fact, he’d gone very loudly. And I had a nasty scar on my upper arm to prove it. It could have been worse. It had been worse. In another version of reality number five stabbed me in the stomach. I still remember looking down to see my intestines falling out of the gash in my stomach, before I Shifted to safety.