The House of Grey- Volume 4 (3 page)

The other MIB
, a blond haired blue eye-baby face that was not much taller than Casey,
nodded his head
and attempted to move past Casey to
continue his pursuit of Kylie.
Refusing to consider any Coren student a threat, the big man
did not
even
see the two blows that Casey threw.

At least Monson
thought
there were two blows.
The strikes were so fast that Monson was
simply
guessing
at how many there were.
A
nd if Monson was not sure how many
Casey threw,
there was no way that
“Jim”
had
a clue
what hit him
.

Jim landed hard
,
mashing into the ground. Monson cringed
.
T
he blow and landing looked like they hurt
,
but to his surprise,
Jim
sprang
to his feet
. Dusting off his clothing,
he
spoke to the other MIB. 

“I think we need to teach this little boy a lesson
,
Mark.”

The other MIB, Mark, nodded his head
.
“
F
ine
—
but don’t bloody him up too bad.”

“Oh
,
I won’t kill him or
nothing
.”

Jim moved in an exaggerated way, reaching into his jacket and pulling
out
a
black
metal rod. Monson
squinted,
desperately trying to make
out
the object in Jim’s hands. A sharp swinging motion and resounding click
answered his question
. Jim held
a
retractable baton aggressive
ly
in front of him.

Almost instantly,
Monson started to move
,
fully intending to come to the aid of his friend. He let out a muffled yelp when an arm caught him and pulled him back
down
. 
He
struggled against
Artorius
’ overwhelming strength.

“Arthur! What the hell are you doing? We need to help—”

“Chill
,
Grey. Chill and watch.”

As
Monson
looked back to the fray, he realized he
would not have been able to get to Casey before the onslaught commenced anyway.

Jim charged
Casey
,
swinging his baton in a controlled
,
heavy
,
overhand strike. Casey set his stance
,
quickly falling into his leg-centered form. He sidestepped Jim's attack at the last possible moment
,
throwing Jim slightly off balance. Casey countered, throwing two lower sweeps aimed at the legs, a high roundhouse
,
and an amazingly fast spinning back kick.
After landing
the
last
kick
, Casey
instantly retreated. He performed a series of back
handsprings
, finishing
with a full back
flip
. He stuck the landing about
five
yards from
a now-prone
Jim, who gaped at him
in
shock.

The other MIB clapped appreciatively. “I think you just got it handed to you
,
Jim.”

“Shove it, Mark
,
” growled Jim
,
tossing a nasty scowl over his shoulder.

After getting to his feet,
Jim proceed
ed
with
a
much greater level of caution. He stalked Casey
,
circling him like a hungry predator
,
and attacked only when he felt secure enough in his position.

He should have stalked a bit more.

Jim’
s
second attack, a sideways blow meant to crush his victim’s shoulder, was just as ineffective as his first. The strike simply bounced off the extended foot of an airborne Casey. Jim stared in bug-eyed
disbelief
as
the free-floating form of Cassi
us Kay struck him in the face. Monson wanted to say it was a kick, but truthfully
,
like the first two blow
s
Casey dealt Jim, the former was moving too
quickly
for him
to be sure. For a second time
, Jim
the MIB went flying.

“Jim, you
do realize you just got your donkey
kicked by a ten
-
year
-
old. The kid is slapping you around like a redheaded stepchild.  You wouldn’t like a hand
,
would you?”

“I told you to s
h
ove it—”

“I’m
fifteen
.”

The arguing MIB stopped their conversation. Mark addressed Casey.

“What was that
,
kid?”

“I said I’m
fifteen,
not
ten
. And don’t call me kid.”

The amused smirk on Mark’s face instantly vanished
.
H
e glared at Casey with a newfound anger. “Listen
k
id
, I think it’s about time you run off and play before we get serious—”

“So pulling a metal baton on me wasn’t serious? You have some
seriously
messed
-up
sensibilities.”

Casey adjusted his footing
,
widening his stance slightly. He continued his thought.

“I
’ll
run off if you leave the girl alone.”

The men laughed.

“
So that’s why you got involved? Over a girl? You picked the wrong day to be a hero.
Sorry
k
id
,
we can’t do that.
Mr. Gibson wants to talk to her
.
A
nd seeing how you seem to know her
,
w
hy don’t you tell us who she is?”

“
Then
we
’
re at an impasse,”
replied
Casey in a venomous voice
.
“I need you to leave that girl alone.”

Mark
’s
smiled faded as he reached into his jacket
.
“I’m not playing with you anymore
,
kid
. Get
outta the
way. ”

Mark pulled out an incredibly long switchblade, which sprang to
its
full length as
he
pushed a small button.

Casey eyes lit up
,
becoming calculating and aggressive
.
“Mark
—can I call you Mark?
I’m
completely
disappointed
;
a switchblade? Seriously? Dude, the 1980s called and they want their cultural icon back.”

The double beep of the Push-To-Talk phone sounded
before the MIB could do
anything
more than look imposing
.
A
voice rang out
from the phone
.
“Hamil
l
, you guys find that girl yet?”

“We’re working on it
,
sir.”

“Well
,
work faster
,
morons. I want to
know
what she was doing around the complex. 
If s
he gets back to that dorm we’ll never figure
out
who
she is. Find her! Gibson out.”

Mark replaced the
phone,
clipping it back to his belt.

“Your name is Mark Hamil
l
?” asked Casey in a
skeptical
tone.

“Yeah
,
what
of
it?”

Casey started to laugh
.
“Your parents actually named you
Mark
Hamil
l
? Oh
,
dude,
that is rich. Did you hear that
,
Arthur? This
dude’s
name is Mark Ham
ill
!
‘Oooohhh aaahhhh…
Luke…I am your father…
.
’
 
I seriously might pee myself.”

Mark’s incredulity raged
and he
move
d
towards Casey. Monson sprang to help his friend
, but
Artorius kept a tight grip on him
.

“Arthur
,
let—”

“Grey, Casey has it under control.”

Artorius
was right
,
of course. Once he and Monson
turned their attention back to
the fight, it was plain to see that Casey was in control.
Recovered from his laughter, he
was in his striking form
,
throwing open and close
-
fist
ed
punch
es
at Mark with that same frightening speed.  Mark did his best to fend
off
Casey
,
but was
quickly overpowered
. Casey paused after a series of strikes to Mark’s head and midsection
and let
the older man retreat.  Mark returned to Jim’s side
,
the latter still holding his steel baton.

“
What a buzz kill
.
” Casey
relaxed`
his stance
.
“You two can’t beat me.
H
ow about we just call it a night and go home
?
”

The two men glared at
him,
a fine balance of embarrassment and hatred emanating from them.

Jim
turned to
Mark
and nodded towards Casey.
“I think we take
this
kid instead of the girl.”

“Yeah
,
he’s just
another
one of these Coren brats. He won’t be missed.”

They stared at each other.

“We’re agreed then?” asked Jim.

“Yeah
. J
ust don’t kill him.”

Mark
pulled
out
a
metal extendable rod
just
like the one Jim was using.
With a small jerk downward and a barely perceivable flicks of the wrists, electric arcs danced across the black metal of both batons,
which now looked
more akin to cattle p
r
od
s
than anything else. 

“You know
,
kid
.
” Mark addressed Casey
,
dragging the baton across
a nearby bush. The
leaves
sizzled
and smoked
from the
coursing
energy
.
“If you had just let us pass, we might have left the little girl’s face intact
.  B
ut now
,
I think your girlfriend is about to have a close and intimate encounter with my knife.”

Casey’
s
face went cold
and
his lip curled as he answered
. “Cassi
us Kay.”

“What was that
,
k
id?” Mark cast Jim an unsure look.

“I said my name is Cassi
us Kay.”

The two men burst into ear
-
grating laugher
.
“
A
re you
retarded, Cassi
us? You just told
us
your name. You do realize it’s over
for you,
right? Even if you could g
et away, we know
who
you are
. We’ll find you. You can’t
run
now
.
”