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“Beggars can’t be choosers.”
Old Adage
Victor’s head rolled up, blood dripping from his
chin. He looked around at the metal closet he had been stuffed into. He
opened and closed his eyes blearily, trying hard to focus on the industrial
metal walls that surrounded him.
He tried to move his arms, but his hands were
handcuffed. He shook his head, the ache making him stop moving. Defeatedly, he leaned back against the wall, sighing
exhaustedly. “Man,” he whispered, trying to swallow. “What the hell
happened?”
There was a creak. Metal groaned. He looked up as the
door parted, light spilling in. Victor averted his eyes as the outside
light rained in on him. “Victor Allmadi,” said a
voice that towered in the doorway, blocking out some of the burning light.
“Student at the university, and head of the World Alliance’s defense
branch.”
“Look, guys,” Victor stuttered out quickly, his eyes
still having trouble focusing in the bright light. “I don’t know what all
this is, but there’s been a huge mistake. I’m just…”
“Just about to cry,” came a mean-spirited
laugh. “Man, you’re pathetic.”
“Tell us where the rest of the World Alliance is,
Victor,” said the first voice, the one that stood professionally in the
doorway before him. “Tell us and we might let you live.”
“Sure thing,” Victor panted quickly. He moved a bit,
to stand on his knees before the light. The burning was going away as he
was able to see a bit clearer now. He could make out the wide stomach of
the man before him, but that was about all. “They’re at the university.”
“The rest of them?” asked the voice.
“Yeah,” Victor nodded.
“How many are there?” the voice demanded.
“Four others, I think,” he said, trying to swallow
with a dry throat. He considered it for a moment and nodded. “Yeah. Four
others.”
“Talk about pathetic,” said the second voice. There
was another metal-groaning sound as a distant door to Victor’s left opened
up. He could hear the two voices turn towards the sound. “Hey!” yelled the
second voice.
There was an explosion as hot blood splattered over
Victor’s face. The man’s body fell down across from the doorway. Victor
covered his face in his shoulder, closing his eyes as he turned away from
the light and the sound. He heard footsteps. He heard the first voice start
to say something. He heard a sound similar to a high-pitched bell ringing, then suddenly stop as more blood sprayed across the
floor like water from a fountain.
He heard a body drop.
“Victor,” said a new voice, one that sounded familiar.
The college student looked up to find Everett
standing in the doorway of the closet, blood dripping from the
straight-bladed sword in his hand. “Come on,” he said with a beckoning
gesture. “We’re getting you out of here.”
“What the hell’d you do
that for, you jackass!?!” Victor yelled, standing up and glaring at Everett. “I was
trying to get information out of them about where Marilyn is.”
“Marilyn’s not here,” Everett said with a calming voice that
hid well his strained patience. He took Victor’s slender arm and helped him
out of the narrow storage closet. In the light of the world, Victor could
see more clearly the simple storage room he had been kept in. Filled with
lawn-care tools and a few industrial lawnmowers, the room smelled of
fertilizer and cleaner. And now, blood.
“Not here?” Victor screamed, registering Everett’s words.
“Where is she?” His eyes suddenly became furious. “If they’ve done anything
to her, then I swear, there’s nowhere on this earth they’ll be safe from…”
“Oh, give it a rest,” Roland shouted, drawing Victor’s
attention away from Everett
and to the group of knights in the room. The white knight stood next to
Ledger as the black-skinned knight loaded a shell into his shotgun,
replacing the single spent shell.
“Give it a rest?!” Victor said, nearly yelling. “You
guys loose Marilyn and you want me to give it a rest?”
“Would you calm him down?” Everett said softly to Roland and Ledger,
walking past Victor towards Armand as he kept an eye out at the door. “We’re
going to go find Sydney.
We’re getting out of here.”
“What about Marilyn?” Victor demanded.
“Where to, from here boss?” Ledger asked.
“Well rendezvous with Edgar and Morgan and go from
there,” Everett
said quietly, leaving Victor outside the circle of knights. “The Hand could
have taken her anywhere in the city by now. It could take us all night to
find them.” Everett
glanced back at Victor one last time, then turned and headed out the door.
“What a damn second!” Victor screamed. “Get your
colored ass back in here, you house-nig…” He screamed.
A cocked shotgun barrel was aimed right in his face.
“I told you once,” Ledger said, staring into Victor’s
bleeding face as Roland stood next to him, his hand resting threateningly
on the handle of his ancient katana, “you lived by the mercy of others. And
that one person who shows you mercy is a long, long way from here. So I
suggest you behave.”
“Alan Dunston, Ruwani Hitori, Kim Orgin, and Brian
Davies,” Edgar said, looking at Morgan as the two waited against Edgar’s
car in front of the tall dorm building. “The backbone of the World
Alliance.” He sighed deeply, resigned to waiting.
“What is it with girls taking their damn time?”
Morgan wondered rhetorically as he looked around the grounds of the dorm
building. “It’s an emergency, damn it.”
“I know,” Edgar agreed. “And I think this Brian-kid
isn’t helping. He seems…aloof. To me, anyway.”
“Do you have him in a class?” Morgan asked.
“No, but I’ve met him, thanks to Ruwani and Marilyn.
Marilyn wants EVERYBODY to know who’s in the World Alliance and what they
can do and all that.”
“Delightful,” Morgan grumbled.
“As for Alan,”
Edgar went on. “He seems okay. He’s here now. He doesn’t live here, but
he’s apparently staying with Kim until curfew. Then he’ll leave.”
“Sure he will,” Morgan muttered cynically. He shook
his head, shrugging his trench coat further onto his shoulders. “I am never
going to be able to look at Will’s band the same way again. Not now,
knowing Alan’s in the Alliance.”
“That’s the truth,” Edgar grumbled. “I can’t look at
my classes the same way now. Ruwani alone left me shaken when I found out.”
“Yeah, well,” Morgan said incidentally. He looked
around at the nighttime campus and glanced across the street at the subway
station directly across from the dorm building. He chewed on a thought for
a moment. “Just out of curiosity,” he asked to Edgar, “how are we going to
move all of them? You’ve got five seats in your car and we’re picking up
four people.”
“I, uh…” the knight started to answer. He leaned down
to look into his car, scratching underneath his hairy chin. “You know, I
hadn’t thought about it.”
“Take them to meet Everett and the others,” Morgan
said, stepping back from the car. “I’ll head on home.”
“What about your car?” Edgar asked, not moving to
stop him.
“I’ll get it tomorrow,” Morgan shrugged indifferently.
“Where do I need to go?” he asked rhetorically. “I mean, really. I’m not a
knight. I don’t really have any business being here anyway.”
“You’re Everett’s
friend,” Edgar said. “You’re everyone’s friend.”
“I’m a dick,” Morgan chuckled. “One who has no
business being involved in a military action, even if it is a civilian military.”
“I give up,” Edgar said, relenting. He looked across
the street at the subway station. “Does a track go by your house?”
“Close enough,” he said. “I’ll have a bit of a walk,
but it’s fine.” He started to head off, his trench
coat pulling slightly on his left side. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Edgar.”
“Bye,” Edgar called back, holding his two longest
fingers up between his eyes in a salute.
“I’m not a knight, Edgar,” Morgan said without
turning back around. “Don’t salute me like one.”
“I salute the qualities of a knight,” Edgar nearly
yelled as Morgan got farther and farther away.
Morgan got to the street, then
turned back around. Edgar still waited by the car. Morgan watched for a
second, then smiled. “Thanks,” he whispered. With a fast jaunt across the street, he
turned down the entrance to the subway, jogging down the steps.
He came out into the platform and walked right up to
the white line, scratching behind his ear as he waited. In the cold air of
the subway tunnel, he glanced down into the darkness in either direction.
He waited for a moment, checking his pocket
watch. He turned away, only to have
something give him pause. He froze in place, his entire body becoming
motionless. He didn’t even breathe. Instead, he listened.
A blast of wind swept up, flapping his black trench
coat against his legs and fluttering his hair violently. On the wind from
the deep tunnels, though, echoing off the brick and metal walls of the
pipes, he could hear something.
Sounds.
Voices.
Words.
Screams.
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