THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM, PT 3
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Dang vanished in a blur while the guns went off, bullets pelting against the wall he’d been previously leaning against. The thugs ceased fire once they realized he wasn’t there anymore and then they spun around, appearing rather panicked.
“Where the hell did he go?!” one demanded.
Dang reappeared then, dashing out of the shadows and taking down one thug before vanishing into the shadows once more. The others spun around, the hands holding their weapons quivering now.
“The hell is this freak?!”
“Freak sounds about right,” Dang spoke out of the shadows. A thug spun in his direction and fired without warning. The bullet hit Dang in the chest and bounced right off him harmlessly, dropping to the ground.
He stepped out of the shadows then, eyes glowing.
“Shoot him!”
The thugs moved as if to pull down on the triggers of guns and found out, only in that moment, that they were no longer holding onto their guns. Dang wasn’t in front of them anymore either.
A clattering sound filled the room and they spun around to see their guns crashing to the ground, Dang sitting on a couch now, legs crossed, a gentle smile on his face. Paul was still in the game, having somehow not yet been disturbed by the sound of gunfire. Perhaps he was under the impression all the gunfire was coming from the game he was in. If so, he would be in for a shock when he got done with his game and saw the mess that had been made thus far in his gaming room.
“Tell me,” Dang began, speaking calmly. “Why do you want him dead?”
As he’d expected, the thugs had no intention of answering questions. None of them ever did. They simply snarled furiously and pulled out knives and daggers that had previously been hidden away. They charged at him.
Dang sighed. “Let me get this straight. The guns didn’t work so you’re going to try knives?”
A thug roared and leaped at Dang. But he simply collided into the couch, Dang having dashed to his feet at the last second. Dang grabbed the thug on the couch by a foot, then hurled him at the others who were still charging.
They all stepped aside and let their comrade hit the ground hard. Then they continued their charge. Knives and daggers keep swiping and stabbing at him from every direction. He could have let the blades touch him so the thugs would be frightened at the sight of their blades bending or shattering upon contact with him, but he preferred to make it clear they’d be unable to lay a hand on him unless he intended otherwise.
He dodged every stab and slash with incredible ease and when he finally got fed up of the thugs being in such close proximity to him, he started to counter, landing devastating blows that sent thug after thug flying, possibly even cracking a few bones in the process. He expected that, at this point, they would have realized they weren’t on his level and would turn on their heels and flee. But no, the thugs got back up and started to come at him again.
“You guys look like you can take a beating,” he said, intending it as a compliment. “That’s great.”
He went at the thugs too. They seemed more motivated now and a couple actually managed to land solid punches, although they hadn’t realized he’d resonated with his ring and upon hitting him, they were met with cracking sounds that indicated they’d broken their hands. This was followed by them dropping to their knees, clutching their broken hands and screaming in agony.
Dang tore through the thugs and only stopped when he heard a whimper. He turned around to see a thug was holding Samantha now, a dagger pressed dangerously against her neck. This thug had his mask off. His black hair was wild, as were his eyes. His lips were cut and bloodied, and his nose broken, blood trickling out of it
“Enough or I gut her like a fucking animal,” the thug snarled angrily, his lips quivering as he spoke. There was a certain madness in his eyes that made clear to Dang that this criminal wasn’t bluffing. He really would kill Samantha if Dang forced his hand.
Dang’s shoulders relaxed while his face hardened somewhat, his mind hard in calculation, trying to figure out how fast he’d need to move in an incredibly limited span of time to get to Samantha before the thug could slice her throat.
“Will you tell me why you’re doing this?” Dang queried.
“Bastard ruined our life!” the thug roared. “Look at him,” he nodded in Paul’s direction, the billionaire still immersed in his game, eating some Cheetos now. “His daughter’s about to die and not a single care in the world. It’s how we know he didn’t care about all the lives his experimental tech destroyed. He said he was trying to save the people we cared about…my aunt, she needed a transplant. He stepped in, offering to help. I watched her decay at seven times the speed a corpse would. He denied all accusations that he’d had something to do with it, wiped the records of her treatment, said it was some disease.”
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“Well, the girl’s got nothing to do with this,” Dang said. “Let her go.”
“Stand down and I will,” the thug hissed. “He’s the one we’re here for. You stand down, let us finish what we came for and we’ll leave, no one else will get hurt. Not the girl, not you…”
“You couldn’t hurt me even if I gave you an entire year to try,” Dang snorted. “Try not to disrespect me, please.”
“Stand down,” the thug warned. He pressed the knife further against Samantha’s neck. He drew blood, and Samantha groaned in pain.
That sent Dang into a rage. He threw all his calculations out the window. He shot forward with speed and acted quickly, a loud snap filling the air, taking Samantha into his own arms.
The thug was confused for a moment, unsure what had happened. It was only when he looked at his arm and saw how horribly twisted it was that he let out a shrill scream. Dang’s hand shot forward, his palm covering the thug’s face before slamming the thug headfirst into a wall and then hurling him right at a window. The thug crashed straight through the window and Dang listened for the thud of him hitting the ground outside.
He turned to the other thugs; eyes glowing with rage now. “You can’t go around hurting the people who pay me,” he snarled. “That’s just bad business.”
The thugs didn’t stand a chance again after that, not even of getting their fists within five inches of his face. One after the other, he pummeled them, hurling them around the room and using them to create head-sized holes in the walls, hurling each one out of the window once he was done with them.
Soon, there weren’t any thugs left inside. The floor of the game room was covered with broken wood and bullet shells, and the knives and daggers Dang had taken off of the thugs. He hurried toward Samantha, grabbing a hold of her arms and peering at the cut on her neck.
“Are you–,”
“I’m fine,” she said, quickly, nodding. “It’s fine. It was just a little cut.”
“We still need to put something on it,” Dang said, an expression of concern on his face. He rushed out of the game room and found the closest bathroom, grabbed a few first aid supplies then rushed back to Samantha where he cleaned the cut and plastered over it. When he was done, she gave him a nod of gratitude.
“You think they’ll come back?” Samantha asked.
“Would you?” Dang asked.
She grinned at him and shook her head. “How…how can you do what you do? You’re not like the rest of us, are you?’
“Not quite,” Dang answered and straightened to his feet. He looked at Paul, who still hadn’t moved from his seat. He sighed. “On a scale of one to ten, how badly do you want to see your dad get punched in the nose?”
She pursed her lips like she was considering the question for a moment. Then finally she said: “A 100.”
“Well, I’ve got to satisfy my client, haven’t I?”
Dang strode toward Paul. When he reached the billionaire, he pulled his headphones off and tossed them across the room. At once, Paul swiveled around in his chair, looking irritated. “What the hell are you–,” his voice trailed once he saw the state his game room was in. He noticed the plaster on Samantha’s neck and his face paled at once, slacking in horror. “What the hell happened–,”
Dang cut him off with a blow delivered straight to his nose. He’d made sure to release his Resonate before the punch connected but he’d still hit Paul with enough force to break his nose. The punch sent Paul tumbling out of his seat to the ground; the billionaire yelping loudly as he hit the ground. What followed as miserable moaning as Paul clutched his nose with his hands, turning over on the ground, clearly in agony.
Samantha chuckled at the sight of her dad like that. When Paul removed his hand from his nose, it had turned a blotched red, blood trickling out of it.
Dang looked to Samantha and grinned. “Looks like my work here is done.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Don’t mention it.”
Once Dang left the mansion, he went round back to the thugs he’d thrown out a window. About three of them had run off so he took personal care of the seven he’d rendered incapable of running, delivering them personally to a police station, binding them and leaving each of them with a note taped to his head that read: “Hi, officer. I’m a criminal. The gun in my pocket proves that. Arrest me, please.”
Afterward, he stopped for two sandwiches and chocolate ice cream before making his way home, walking coolly and calmly, his hair back to his usual black, sunglasses stashed away. He was sitting on a park bench, scrolling through social media on his phone and devouring his second sandwich when his phone suddenly started to vibrate, a phone call coming in from Daniel.
He sighed and answered the call. He began the conversation rather impatiently. “What do you want?”
“Cyborg wants to talk to you,” Daniel’s voice came from the other end of the line. He sounded excited which meant that whatever Daedalus was about to say, it couldn’t have been good. Shuffling sounds came through and Dang knew that was the sound of a phone being passed. A few seconds passed and then Daedalus’ voice came through.
“I found anomalies,” Daedalus said, going straight to the point. “And not like necklace-type anomalies this time…these are proper proper anomalies. They could be more sentinels. I’m sending Tiger and Wombat to the location.”
“God no,” Dang said quickly. “I’ll check it out.”
“It might be dangerous,” Daedalus warned. “I’m picking up at least ten anomalies on the scanners…and uh, one of them has got a weird kind of trace.”
“Weird how?”
“I don’t know,” Daedalus admitted. “But be careful. You need backup, just call, alright?”
“Right,” Dang nodded. “Don’t send the annoying duo,” he added. “I’ve got this.”
“No fair!” Daniel whined.
“Alright,” Daedalus nodded. “Be careful.”
The call ended.
Dang sighed and wrapped up the rest of his sandwich before sliding it into his pocket. His phone pinged as Daedalus sent him the location of the anomalies. One look at the GPS was enough to memorize the path to the location.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright, let’s get this done.”