Chapter One

It’s half past eleven when he sneaks out for a cigarette. He fishes around in his pocket for a while then pulls out a tight fist and struggles to light his tobacco. A part-time employee at Dragoon Ink, a small tattoo parlor downtown, Mumbles was the man to go to for information on the seedy underworld of Eastville.

I wait until he concentrates on his lighter then say, “Hey.”

He jumps, almost setting his beard on fire. “Jeez, kid!” He eyes me until the nicotine is lit and takes a few puffs. “What’re you hanging around here for? You’re bad for business.”

A pudgy man, Mumbles stands just a shade above five feet and has facial hair reminiscent of old Kris Kringle. He’s constantly on the look out for goons who sought to knife him in the back. I’d be a little jumpy if I was known for being the biggest snitch in the southeast and the closest thing I had to a friend was a cape.

That’s what the bad guys call us, though very few of us wear them. They aren’t practical; getting caught in revolving doors or providing a ne’er-do-well with something to latch on to.

I leap from the fire escape to the other side of the alley and hide in the shadow cast by a dumpster. “You were glad to see me last week when you had a shotgun in your face.”

“Yeah, after I gave you a tip about that shipment of Nightshade,” Mumbles says. “So we’re even.”

Moonlight catches my goggles at just the right angle, forming two eerie globes that pierce the darkness, encouraging my informant to be more forthcoming.

“You and me, Mumbles"we’re together for the long haul. So what do you see going down now?”

"Nothing, kid." He takes a long drag from his cigarette. "Nothing."

Without uttering a word, I stare at him until he speaks. Sometimes it’s good to be associated with one of the city’s most feared vigilantes.

“Obelisk needs cash.”

“Tell me more,” I say.

“Word on the street is the Shadows aren’t too pleased with the O-Man. They fronted him a large sum of money for top of the line weaponry, but when time came for the drop he never showed. Needless to say, the Shadows want a refund, five times the amount they paid.”

“I thought they were more snippy than usual lately,” I reply.

Actually, aside from photographs I have never seen a Shadow, let alone gone toe-to-toe against one. They are a clan of assassins led by Lord Shadow, a man so twisted he subjected each of his daughters to horrible experiments before injecting himself with a serum that changed his genetic code. At least that’s what Caliber told me.

“My cousin,” Mumbles continues, “he works for Axel’s Used Cars"he told me the O-Man traded in his Hummer for a Hyundai and cash. You know, the one with the black rims.”

“I know.” I have seen the black SUV around town"it was hard to miss. “So business isn’t going so well for him, huh?”

A stupid question. Obelisk controls drugs, prostitution, protection, and almost all other street crime in what Caliber used to call the Oven"a span of twenty blocks where. That business is never down.

Maybe he’s planning to move into warmer neighborhoods, I think, and his captains are raising capital. Maybe his business is so good he's attracting competitors, and he wants more firepower. Maybe giant Hummers just aren't fashionable anymore.

“Looks that way,” he continues. “I just inked up one of his lieutenants, and"you didn’t hear this from me"he said something was going down at Rouse Tech tonight. Apparently, Big O couldn’t raise enough funds so he’s getting more protection.”

"I'll check it out," I tell Mumbles, and start down an alley.

Mumbles calls, "We even now, kid?"

"Nope, we're still in business. I'll be seeing ya."

As I take the rooftop route down to one of the many umbrella companies owned by Richard Rouse, I raise a hand to my ear. "Circuit, you there?” His voice chimes in my ear, complaining about me breaking his concentration. He’s always tinkering with some device. “I’m on my way to the weapons plant.”

“I noticed you were on the move. What’s up?” he inquires.

“Obelisk is planning a smash and grab. The Syndicate paid a pretty penny for merchandise they never received.”

“Alright now,” his voice stiffens. “I’ll help, but you and the other guys better not bother me all night. I have class in the morning.”

“No, it’s just me.”

“Oh. So it’s something serious. Tell me what you need me to find out.”

 

“His name is Oliver Perry,” Circuit informs me as I stand atop first National Bank, a block away from our destination. Of course he knows Obelisk’s real name. He can crack any database and make any piece of tech do his bidding. It’s kind of creepy the way he talks to electronics sometimes, but I’m glad Circuit’s on my side. I would hate to have all of my personal information picked through by the wrong hands.

Peering through an eighth story window I note twenty men, some arguing and comparing pistols, others nervously watching the street below. Not as many of them as I expect, though.    

“Obelisk’s a big boy,” he says as I reach the intersection of Monticello Avenue and Church Street. “The guy is six-six, three-fifty.” He prattles on about falsified birth certificates and passports, previous convictions, and thirteen children by seven different women.”

I figure Obelisk must be inside the vault taking inventory, so I creep along the ledge to find an empty room to enter. For a place that manufactures military grade weaponry, they sure do have a questionable security system.”

Suddenly lights flitter back and forth, peeking through window blinds when I hear a gun c**k.

BLAM!

Move, Eddie, move!

Amidst the shouting and sound of feet pattering toward a nearby stairwell, I can see a towering figure approach another, smaller man and grab him by the neck. The larger man lifts his catch off the ground and moved toward the window I was crouched beside.

“I told every one of you to keep it quiet, right?” roars a deep voice.

“I’m sorry, boss,” comes a trembling reply. “I thought I saw someone snooping around outside.”

“Do you know how high up we are?” to which the second voice shakily says, “No.” Through the window from which I was shot at, a body careens into the night and falls to the street below.

“That high,” the husky voice says with an air of satisfaction. “Who wants to join him?”

All is silent except for heavy footsteps approaching the window. No one dared to make a sound, lest they take a long drop that wouldn’t be good for anyone’s health.

“I know you’re there, boy,” Obelisk growls. “And I know you’re all alone. You might as well go home.”

He punches through the brick and mortar and clutches my leg. Dragging me inside, he tosses me against the opposite wall

“I came here to warn you,” I say, clutching my ribs.

“Warn me? You’re the one who’s two seconds away from joining poor Lenny down there.”

“Someone’s coming after you.”

“In my line of work, there’s always someone coming after me,” he says, easing his head out of the building.

“Whoever it is put up a lot of money to have you put in the ground.”

Obelisk is silent for a second. "What the f**k are you talking about?"

"There was a help wanted ad posted at the Coffee Shop," I lie.  "I came here because I don't want this turning into a war."

"That hole in the wall bar?" Obelisk grumbles. He retreats from the window"I can hear the frame creak as his weight is lifted"and calls out to one of his henchmen. "Mack! I thought you and Big Steve went by there last week.”

"Yeah. We hired some new talent then went back to the spot,” comes an answer from within the vault.

“And you didn’t think to check the board?”

“You told us to hire some muscle then split because you didn’t want Steve getting liquored up and blabbing about the plan.”

"Call Mumbles. Tell him to check it out,” Obelisk bellows after letting out a long sigh.

"He won't find anything useful. It’s been up since last week."

"Last week? Damn." His bulk disappears inside the building like a turtle's head pulled into its shell. Down below, three wisps of black smoke waver past the large “RT” sign, followed by a woman, clad in a dark green mid-drift and form-fitting pants. I don’t recognize her, but the smoke signifies the presence of a serious threat. 

A newspaper is picked up by a strong breeze and thrust from an alley and out walks a man dressed in all black; body armor, pants, gloves, boots, and mask. If Caliber’s here then whoever picked up the contract must be a heavy-hitter. But of course he would take a vested interest in the well being of the property.

His floor-length duster sweeps the ground as if he’s gliding across the street. He plants one hand on the hood of a car in his way and vaults across to the other side. Even though I’m several stories up, I can feel his piercing stare burning holes in my forehead. Obelisk’s henchmen train their guns on me, but I can tell they’re afraid to draw anymore attention, so I make a break for, leaping into the cool evening air.

“Get home," Caliber says as I land beside him. He surveys the building once then places a hand on the side of his mask and looks it over again.

"Nope," I say. "Finders keepers. This is my bad-guy."

As I formulate a witty comeback for whatever he might say, Caliber unsheathes a katana from his back and holds the tip to my throat.

"You have no idea what you’re dealing with. Go home.”

Now might be the time to listen, but instead I keep talking. “I’ll give you three reasons why you need me. One…” I speak fast so he won’t have time to object, but now I'm not sure what I have to say will make the least bit of sense.

"I just saw three Shadows and a creepy looking woman enter through a side door. Plus, Obelisk has at least twenty goons up there with access to all types of toys."

Still holding the blade dangerously close to my larynx, he remains silent, so I continue with my list.

“Two. Even if you manage to take out all the baddies, how long do you think it’ll take before the police get here? I’m sure you don’t want to get into a brawl with the boys and potentially demolish such prime real estate.” His eyes show that Caliber is considering my last statement.

“And three!” I yell, reaching for my utility belt. “You should really stop underestimating me.”

Caliber is as quick as he’s always been. Usually speed catches my opponents by surprise, but not him. He returns his blade to its sheathe as something explodes on my chest, leaving my in a cocoon of red goop. I crumble to the ground under the unanticipated weight of the substance and my head smacks against the pavement.  

My vision is filled with fireworks, but at least nothing seems broken. Caliber's not using lethal force. Not yet.

He marches up the steps to the door. I manage to raise my hand and with a flick of my wrist, I toss a tracking device in his direction. Shifting his weight to his left leg, Caliber avoids the projectile and reaches for his waist to pull out a stun grenade. As he twists in midair, it clinks on the ground beside me.

I get blasted down the sidewalk

My head is ringing and my vision is ten times worse than thirty seconds ago. My radio earpiece saves the hearing in my left ear, but it's shattered. No more communication with Circuit.

"I told you to go home," Caliber says.

 

I wriggle, testing how well Rouse Biotech has improved their ballistic foam"very well, of course"and my bruised ribs keep me from getting enough leverage to loosen myself.

Men shout, and there's a volley of shots in the front hallway. What remains of the door’s bulletproof glass absorbs a couple of rounds. A car eases out of an alley and stops a few feet away from me. Its windows are tinted so it’s difficult to tell who’s inside.

There's another burst of gunfire inside the building and more screams. He must be dealing with the Shadows who in turn are dealing with Obelisk’s men.

Two men exit the vehicle and from the safety of the street, listen to the shots, crashes and yells from within. The Diaz brothers, Juan and Pablo, are the leaders of Los Toros, one of the many fledgling gangs vying for Obelisk’s territory. Without much effort I realize they’re the ones who set up their competition.

"Looking good," says Juan.

"I told you it was a good idea to pack his weapons shipment with explosives." Pablo replies.

"The job's not done yet,” Juan cautions.

"Come on! It was a fool proof plan"worth every grand"and tomorrow, we start payin' ourselves back."

"We'd better," says Juan.

There are shots from an automatic, then a blast from a shotgun, then nothing.

I'm lying still, trying to look like a crimson sack of garbage someone left out on the stoop. That shouldn't be hard since I already feel like one, the younger Diaz spots me.

"Hey. It's Caliber’s sidekick."

Kid Cal, I say to myself.

"No s**t?" says Juan.

I go back to wriggling and clawing at my mini prison. I have to get loose. Come on, come on.

The pair move toward me. "Someone gooped him up."

"For us?" says Pablo. "They shouldn't have."

"You know," the elder Diaz says, "we make a name for ourselves"start picking off capes"and the competition will start to show us respect."

There's an explosion high above, and window glass tinkles onto the sidewalk. I see a jumpline flopping in the air, and then two black leather boots land inches from my head.

"Stand back," Caliber says. He grabs a remote from his waist and presses a button. Instantly, the foam begins to recede upon itself.

“You ruined a valuable business opportunity for us,” says Juan. “My associate and I think the least you can do is let us get a reward from the fuzz for bringing in this little shrimp."

"That's not how I do business." Caliber positions himself between me and the three stooges.

"Walk away and we'll pay you any amount you want. Besides, I heard you two didn’t run together anymore."

"You have no idea what this one's worth," Caliber says.

"Then we'll get a bargain by doing it ourselves," Juan answers.

He draws a pistol from his hip. Before the first shot is fired Caliber tosses me into the alley. I land in a pile of garbage cans"PRANG!"and bounce once for extra pain in my lower back.

Behind me I hear more gunfire. But it's muffled. My head's stuck inside one can, my face deep in a squishy plastic bag. I can't breathe, can't move.

Some hero I turned out to be, I tell myself.

I haven’t even foiled the doomsday plans of a homicidal megalomaniac yet, something to laugh and talk about over and over again once I’m retired. I flex my body, pitching myself forward and back, forward and back. The metal can shifts, tilts, and topples over, spilling me and a week’s worth of decomposed leftovers from the nearby pizzeria onto the sidewalk.

My ear is still ringing and my side and back aches, but at least the foam is mostly gone. Three minutes later, I can stand. Not the best standing I ever did, but good enough.

I peek back over the stone balustrade. The Diaz brothers are tied up on the sidewalk and their car is on fire. I can hear a few groans from inside Rouse Tech and I notice trails of smoke exiting the building. The rest of the street is quiet. The blare of sirens draws closer and a little voice in my head tells me it’s time to call it a night.

I stumble west toward the nest, pulling my backup radio out of my belt. "Circuit?"

"Kid! Are you""

"I'm okay." I belie the fact that I may have a few broken ribs.

"Livewire is coming to get you.”  

As soon as he says that, I hear an engine turning off Hamilton, and I realize how grateful I am for a ride home. Livewire weaves his motorcycle around the burning car and debris and pulls up beside me.

"I got him," he says into his radio. "You smell like crap.”

"I feel like crap," I reply. “You couldn’t have driven a car?”

“I can still attach a sidecar if you like,” he retorts with a grin across his face.

A groan escapes my lips as he powers over a speed bump. “Rough night, huh?”

"The authorities have picked up Obelisk and a handful of his men outside of the Rouse Tech facilities,” Circuit informs us. “Two more were found hogtied beside a pile of garbage.”

"End of a bad day?" he asks, gunning the motor.

"Nope. End of a good one."

Reviews

[Collette Paige]

I liked it, but I could not finish, not because I did not want to but, because your dialouge is very hard to distinguish from the characters thoughts. The quotations are right by every word, no space in between, and sometimes random ones show up in the middle of dialouge, please fix these mistakes, inform me when you have, and I will finish reading.