Episode 050

                “Shame on a nigga who tries to run game on a nigga.”
                                Shame on a Nigga, Wu-Tang Clan

                The door to the outside world opened in a rain of sunshine. The light flooded into the dark and bland hallway, showering the gray bricks with the gloom-shattering light from the outdoors. But all too soon, the light as gone.

                Morgan stepped into the hallway of the mall, walking with a brisk pace. Under his left arm, a folder filled with papers waited anxiously as he walked. He glanced to his side as he walked, taking quick notice of the side hallways and alleyways and stairwells and all the texture that formed the topography of the alleyway.

He came to the end of the hallway, stopping at a ‘t’ intersection. He turned the left corner and kept walking.

                Will sat across from Alan, while the two of them waited in the restaurant. “This guy’s stuff is killer, isn’t it?” He asked with a grin.

                “Yeah.” Alan said, trying to smile also. He looked around nervously, his eyes unwillingly finding their way down to his wristwatch. It was almost three o’clock. He looked back at Will, still smiling weakly and obviously insincerely.

                “You okay?” Will asked, tossing his long black hair over his shoulder. “You look nervous. You going to be sick?”

                “I’m cool.” Alan said, realizing he had broken into a sweat. He looked away as the others showed up.

                Pushing in next to him, was the largest, by far, of the group. With a chin-beard that had grown halfway down his chest, but with no other head hair, the giant man covered in tattoos sat down with a giant plate full of food.

                Across from him, a well-stocked man sat down, his Mohawk now joined with a head of fuzz. The two that joined were dressed like Alan and Will, dressed in black leather and denim, with silver chains that flowed from their pockets and tattoos that covered their bodies.

                “Matt.” Will said, glancing to the large man. “Oliver.” He said, glancing to the man next to him. “When this guy gets here, you’ll see what I’ve been talking about.”

“When does he get here?” Oliver asked, his hard, direct voice barely rising from his plate of buffet food.

“He’ll be here soon.” Will said, turning to his coffee mug.

                Alan started coughing.

                Morgan turned the corner, coming to the last leg of the alleyway before he emptied into the mall. He glanced behind his back, then looked forward again.

                Armand was standing between him and the door. He held his brand in his hands.

                Morgan stopped about fifteen feet from Armand, saying nothing. He stood up straight, appraising the knight for a moment. He dropped the file down from the crook of his arm into his hand before he resumed walking forward. “Move.” He said, as he started to take his first step.

                “I think not.” Armand answered back.

                “Move.” Morgan repeated, slowing but still walking. “I have no interest in whatever you’ve got on your mind, boy.”

                “I’m not moving.” Armand said, still staring at Morgan.

                “Move.” Morgan repeated with obvious impatience. He was within ten feet of the knight now. “Or I’ll go through you.”

                “That’s the idea.” Armand said, with curt nod. He smiled slightly. “However, I couldn’t help but notice the lack of your Grosse Messer.”

                Morgan didn’t respond in any way.

                “For the crimes you have committed against the knights,” Armand started with ceremonial precision as he changed his stance, holding the brand ready to use. “For the transgression against my honor, for interfering in a necessary act, I have no other recourse.” Armand almost seemed to smile. “The law I know can afford me no greater insult than this . . .”

                “Careful.” Morgan said, his eyes turning to fire as he glared at Armand. “You issue that claim and there will be hell to pay.”

                “Then come stop me.” Armand said, holding his brand out, the blade aimed at Morgan.

                Ledger sat in the chair, his hands stuffed into the midsection pocket of his black sweater. He looked over at Roland, who sat in one of the massage chairs in the mall sitting area. The chair’s automated voice reminded Roland that he hadn’t put any money into the chair yet, but both knights ignored the robotic voice. Off in a corner from the regular traffic, the alcove was protected from the bustle of the mall shoppers. But in the dead time of the mid-afternoon, the two were alone, even in the giant hall that was the leg of the mall.

                Ledger looked over at Roland. He sighed and looked back out at the hall that passed them by.

                There was a muffled crash from behind them.

                Roland looked away from the fire door hidden away from the mall. Against the dull, silver walls of the mall, the door was almost unnoticeable. The knight looked over at Ledger. Ledger shook his head with displeasure.

                There was a loud bang, followed by a muffled shout.

                “Jesus, Armand.” Ledger said, glancing back at the door that was behind him. “He’s not armed, man. Go easy on him.”

                There was a loud slam and what sounded like bricks falling.

                “What the hell is he . . .” Roland started to say, looking back at the door.

                There was another slam.

                The door to the alleyway was knocked open violently.

                Armand was sent flying through the air.

                Roland and Ledger were both up in a heartbeat, watching as Armand landed on the other side of the hallway alcove from them. He landed hard and continued sliding until he crashed into the wall opposite the fire door that he had been expelled from.

                The two knights turned just as Morgan came rushing out. Roland grabbed for his katana that was beneath his trench coat, but Morgan moved too quickly. He grabbed Roland’s hand before it could close around the handle and yanked Roland’s hand free of the weapon.

                Twisting the arm in the same motion, Morgan grabbed Roland’s neck and threw him to the side. Yanked over the chair, Roland landed hard. But he landed on his shoulder, rolling over the ground to come up to his feet. He tried to turn, but Morgan moved too fast. Grabbing the back of Roland’s head, he pushed Roland forward; head first, into one of the small windows that lined the wall of the alcove. Shattering the glass and slamming Roland’s face into a tiny jewelry case, Morgan did not relent.

                As Roland tried to pull his head out of the case, Morgan rushed up behind him, slamming his right fist into Roland’s kidney. The blow rocked through Roland’s body and he shook violently from the blow. Morgan grabbed the shocked Roland and spun him around, throwing him up against the wall. Faster than the beat of a drum, Morgan plowed into Roland with fourteen lightning fast punches to the knight’s face and chest.

                “Morgan!” Ledger shouted, the shotgun held ready. Ledger leveled the one-handed cannon at Morgan, but when he tried to aim it, all he saw was air.

                Morgan rushed forward at Ledger, grabbing the shotgun and lunging up into a jumping knee. The force of the impact landed right beneath Ledger’s solar plexus and took the air right out of him. But Morgan landed before Ledger did, and held onto his arm as he did. With a fast twist of his body, Morgan threw Ledger over his shoulder; slamming him down onto the back of the chair the knight had been sitting in. The chair crumpled under the impact and Ledger was left in the middle of the ruins.

                Armand, barely recovered, charged at Morgan with his brand held high. Morgan stepped narrowly out of the way of the overhead strike that Armand tried to use to cut Morgan in two. The former knight spun with the kick, bringing his left leg around quickly into the back of Armand’s knee, knocking him to the ground.

                Roland swung at Morgan’s neck, but Morgan ducked deeply under the swing and punched Roland about three inches below the belt. Roland’s stance buckled and Morgan came up with a fast upper cut that carried so much power, it took Roland off his feet.

                Armand charged again at Morgan, this time with the brand cocked to the side to cut Morgan’s head off. But Morgan moved too fast. Taking a skipping-hop towards Armand, Morgan threw forward his left leg before Armand could even start to swing. The kick slammed right into Armand’s face, turning his nose into blood. Morgan let his foot drop, but it never touched the ground. He spun around once, flaring out with his leg as he spun. The heel of the roundhouse connected to the side of Armand’s head, knocking him into the air.

                Roland hit the ground.

                Armand hit the ground.

                Ledger scrambled to his feet, turning to Morgan. The former knight stood before Ledger, not even panting. “I thought you knew better than this.” Morgan said, glaring at Ledger. He glanced down at the unconscious Armand. “By your laws, I should kill him.” He looked back at Ledger. “Him, and you for trying to help him.”

                “Try it.” Ledger said, holding his hands ready.

                Morgan moved fast. He hopped over the couch, snapping out a kick at Ledger. The black knight blocked the kick and followed up with a fast jab. Morgan parried the jab and used the parrying hand to slide in with a jab of his own.

                Ledger caught the jab with his hand, then held onto it as he swung around, swinging his right arm wide to chop Morgan in the back of the neck with his hand. Morgan ducked under the chop, however, and came up with his forehead to Ledger’s face.

                Ledger slammed his head down at the same time, however, slamming his clinched jaw down onto the top of Morgan’s head. The blow knocked them both back, their balance disrupted. But Morgan recovered first.

                He rushed at Ledger, swinging at him with a fast jab. Ledger blocked the punch with his left forward and leapt into a barrage of punches at Morgan. Ledger drove in with a quick jab, but when that was parried, he came up with a body blow, then a hook to Morgan’s head. All were parried.

                Morgan swung a powerful punch at Ledger’s head, but the knight ducked under the punch, then hit Morgan’s attacking arm with his thumb. The pressure point registered and Morgan felt his hand go numb. He moved back from Ledger, hitting the antidote point on his neck. But Ledger took the withdrawal to move forward.

                The black knight threw a fast kick at Morgan’s lower legs, then he spun around, bringing his fist around to slam it across Morgan’s face. But Morgan blocked the back fist, and hit Ledger in the side of the body, his kidney taking the brunt of the impact. Ledger shouted in pain as blood filled his mouth. He tore himself away from Morgan, fighting against the pain of the blow.

                Before Ledger could open his eyes, Morgan slammed into him with a hard body blow right to his stomach. The next punch was an elbow to the side of his head, knocking Ledger off balance. Morgan grabbed the falling Ledger’s collar, to keep him standing.

                Ledger came up with a fast shove, knocking Morgan back a few steps. Before the former knight could recover, Ledger jumped up at him, swinging his legs out wide, then slamming them in at Morgan’s head, aiming for his ears.

                Morgan threw up both his hands, stopping the kicks cold. As Ledger landed, though, Morgan pushed forward, slamming both of his hands at Ledger, colliding with the knight’s chest. Ledger was knocked off his feet and into the air, but when he landed on his back, he rolled away from Morgan. He came up to his feet. His eyes went painfully wide.

                The sidekick was so strong, for a moment, Ledger thought he had been shot. The pain radiated throughout his body as he watched in slow motion as he was sent into the air and flying away from Morgan. The last thing he remembered was the rough landing against the wall on the other side of the couch.