Wolfe rolled to the concrete and kept rolling till he hit the wall. He couldn’t see, a condition that tightened his gut with fear even more than the whole ‘rocket launcher’ thing, and he didn’t know if that condition was permanent. But he could remember that the inside wall was out of sight of his assailants. He stood and touched his deck again. There wasn’t time to worry about anything else in the moment. Wolfe could sense his cards despite his blindness, somehow, and he pulled Cereboo. He instinctually knew where his card was, as well as the other cards he could pull.

A notification popped into his mind’s eye.

Deckbearer Rachel Lyon has summoned her creature card “Rookie EMT” and used its special ability on you. You gain 3 health.

The agony left Wolfe’s eyes and he wiped blood from them, managing to stare out again. Despite the situation, relief filled him. Thank the gods Shel wasn’t killed. Also, that she got that second rookie EMT card from the fucking werewolf dungeon. Never been so glad I stopped to take care of some shit for myself in my entire fucking life.

“Go fuck those guys up,” Wolfe whispered to Cereboo, who was barking angrily in the direction of the assailants.

The dog ran out, stumbling as a gun hit it, but gunfire was still a ‘Mortal’ source for card purposes and was far less effective against Cereboo, who counted as Infernal when it benefitted him to do so. Infernal resisted Mortal damage.

Wolfe briefly glanced at his cards—‘no kill pound,’ ‘loyal guard dog,’ and ‘rescue pup.’ He decided to bet on the ‘rescue pup’ since he only got one pull before his cards switched—it was the zero-power cost option and he was hoping to get the ‘fireborn hellhound’ next round.

He touched the card and red energy left it and poured downward, coalescing on the ground into a thirty- or forty-pound dog, slightly emaciated despite its generally large size. It followed Cereboo out to the street, rushing the bushes across the street where the gunfire—and the rocket attack—had come from.

Wolfe checked that Shel and Big Man Grimm were okay—and both appeared to be—before rushing out from behind the wall. A bullet flew by his ear, causing his testicles to draw up, as he ran. He made it behind the burning SUV without being shot, bringing him closer to his enemies. A notification popped up.

…Rescue Pup slain. Cereboo gains +50% attack for the next thirty seconds.

As the snarls and screams from the bushes intensified, Wolfe swiped his deck. He got his ‘fireborn hellhound,’ but also another ‘rescue dog.’

Should have brought out the ‘no kill pound,’ Wolfe thought to himself as screams, barking, snarls, and the ping of gunshots on metal filled the burning-car-warmed air around him. He tossed the second ‘rescue dog’ down. If it could last a single round, the boost it would provide by dying would be huge, hopefully helping both Cereboo and the ‘fireborn hellhound’ both.

The emaciated dog ran into the bushes as well.

Big Man Grimm came flying over the car—literally flying, bat wings propelling his huge form across the entire street. Gunfire slammed into Wolfe’s boss, doing almost nothing as he descended. He landed, and the screams intensified. A few people came running out of the bushes, two being chased by Cereboo and the ‘rescue dog,’ and one running off on his own down the glittering main street with the club complexes on either side.

The charred corpse of a fourth man blew out of the bushes and hit the street at the same time the bushes themselves lit on fire.

Well, I guess the Big Man can handle this himself. Wolfe glanced at the lone guy running away. Fuck that guy, Wolfe thought, running after him. He threw his ‘fireborn hellhound’ down, using up all but one of his remaining power, and flipped his cards away, bringing up three new options.

The guy saw Wolfe and his new doggo coming and tried to curve down an alley—a loading area behind two of the clubs. But while Wolfe was a bit older, he was in great shape, cut and lean. The man he was chasing could give Kevin a run for the money in the ‘strung out tweaker’ look as he tried to escape through the puddles in the alley, turning back to stare at Wolfe as he did, his eyes wide and fearful in the dim lights provided by the bulbs at the top of the loading gates.

The ‘fireborn hellhound’ splashed through the last puddle between them, letting off a tiny bit of steam, and grabbed the thug by his left leg, chomped down... and then shook. The guy screamed, long and hoarse, and fell to the ground, trying to turn over and shooting the mutt repetitively. Before the hellhound could finish the thug off, Wolfe mentally ordered him to let go. The hellhound did, but Wolfe ran up and kicked the gun from the screaming thug’s hand.

Wolfe grabbed the guy by his shirt and lifted him off the ground, slamming him into the railing on the outer edge of a loading dock.

“No no no!” the thug cried out, putting his hands up as if to push Wolfe away while tears ran down his face.

Wolfe slapped him, hard, and the guy stopped his wailing. Wolfe immediately heard faint sirens, which he guessed meant he had about thirty seconds to ask questions.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Who gave the order to attack us!” Wolfe asked, shaking him.

“Not you, it wasn’t you!” the thug cried out. “Just Big Man Grimm. You weren’t supposed to be there! We had reports you were at the Aldelgis Construction site!”

It was Nico, Wolfe guessed with near certainty. Why?! We were going to help him!

Wolfe paused. And then betray him, per Big Man Grimm’s orders. I guess he just tried to get the drop on us…

Wolfe dropped the thug, who landed on his two legs, screamed, and collapsed to the ground clutching his ravaged left leg.

A notification popped up, telling him that his ‘rescue dog’ had died, and that Cereboo had killed two more thugs—and he’d made another level. Wolfe mentally called Cereboo back as he stared at the wailing embarrassment to all manhood huddled at his feet.

He felt… tired, despite the adrenaline still running through his veins. Tired physically from two life-and-death fights in two hours, and tired from the sheer and utter pointlessness of it all. This life is shit. We can’t even betray each other without betraying each other.

But as Wolfe thought about it, he clung to one fact. Big Man Grimm saved my life, and he’s always treated me right—and he didn’t betray me, or even Nico. Technically. I can trust him.

Wolfe’s mantle faded out, having presumably hit the end of the time a card could remain out. That was only five minutes?

As he was thinking, he heard Shel calling, “Wolfe! Wolfe, where are you?”

Wolfe turned. Shel was running down the street, Sorenia beside her. She was clearly looking down alleys, but Wolfe figured the glittering lights of the clubs on the main street blinded her to him in the dim alley.

“I’m here!” Wolfe called, raising his hand.

Shel turned and ran down the alley, quite lithe and quick for the intellectual thing she was, her strawberry-blonde hair appearing almost red in the dim lights of the alley, as if she too were stained by blood. She was backlit by Sorenia, who held her lantern high as she ran down the alley after her deckbearer.

“Wolfe!” Shel cried, throwing her arms around him. “You’re okay!”

Wolfe disentangled himself, holding the girl back at arm’s length. “I’m fine, Shel. Look to yourself and don’t worry about me. I’m harder to kill than a damn cockroach, and almost as unlikeable.”

Shel nodded, a grin practically splitting her face in what Wolfe thought was relief. Before they could continue the conversation, however, flashing lights flew past the alley.

“Run!” Wolfe said, turning and rushing down the alley.

“But we have committed no injustice!” Sorenia protested indignantly. “They attacked us!”

Shel followed Wolfe’s advice and started running as well. Sighing, Sorenia started to follow before Shel called, “Into the deck, Sorenia, I can’t have your lantern giving us away!”

Sorenia turned into a diffuse golden glow—ironically decreasing the light—and sped back into Shel.

Just as she did, a police car turned down the alley, its lights flashing. A megaphone blared out, “Stop! You’re being detained!”

Wolfe didn’t stop—if anything, the call spurred him to greater action and he flew down the alley. The police car maneuvered around the thug on the ground, giving Wolfe and Shel a chance to make some distance, but then it sped down the alley after them, closing the distance rapidly.

Thankfully, Wolfe reached a chain-link fence and leaped onto it just before the police caught up. He kicked once and reached the top almost instantly. He turned back to see Shel, who called out, “help!” and ran at him, throwing herself partway up the fence. Wolfe caught her hand and yanked her over the fence. The police car slowed with a screech of brakes but still hit the fence, hurling them off on the other side.

Wolfe grabbed Shel and made sure he hit the ground first, yelling as the impact bruised him further and opened old wounds. He was down to a mere five health, and he climbed to his feet, half limping as his whole back hurt. Shel started to run even as the police officer threw his door open and jumped out. “Stop! I’m commanding you!”

Wolfe didn’t stop, awkwardly speed-hobbling down the alleyway as he tried to get the pain from his back.

Unknown Officer Deckbearer has pulled a deck!

Are you fucking shitting me? Wolfe thought, completely exasperated. We’re the one that got one of the elite Card Police? Not the people on the main street?

He swiped his cards again as the officer threw a ‘Fiery Angel’ card into play. A male angel with fiery wings and a sword of pure flame appeared. Wolfe glanced back at it, noting its four power and commensurate stats, and grimaced.

Ah, fuck, Wolfe thought, tempted to surrender.

At the same time, a ‘rookie EMT’ card appeared next to Shel but was unable to heal any targets.

“Stop! Last warning!” the officer screamed. He pointed his gun down the alley, and the ‘Fiery angel’ leveled its sword.

Wolfe raised his hands, hating himself, and slowed to a walk. He saw no alternative.

“Put the cards away and let your decks down!” the officer screamed.

Before Wolfe could take any action, Shel slapped one of her cards. Wolfe briefly saw ‘Barter the Soul’ flash, and the ‘Rookie EMT’ suddenly faced skyward, a silhouette of blue leaving her and flying skyward. At the same time, the Fiery angel suddenly turned and slammed its sword down on the shocked officer’s gun, which discharged into the ground.

“Run!” Shel screamed, grabbing Wolfe’s arm and yanking. He winced but followed her, running down the alley and into the next street over.

Before they had even fully stopped running, Wolfe’s phone rang. Out of instinct, he grabbed it. It was Big Man Grimm.

“Boss?” Wolfe asked as they jogged into another alley and headed for the third street over.

“I’m about to be arrested, Wolfe. Get my son! That’s your highest priority. If I don’t get out in time, end Klaus and take the Cobra’s head off. Those are your orders! Don’t let anyone else stop you, don’t let anyone else countermand those orders, and don’t accept any other jobs! Don’t fail me!”

Wolfe heard yells to get down and drop the phone in the background through the receiver.

“Handle it!” Big Man Grimm said, and the phone went dead.

Handle it, Wolfe thought, glancing at himself. Ragged clothing, blood everywhere, and he could barely maintain his jog.

Sure.

“What now?” Shel asked as they slowed to a stop on the third major street over.

“Call an Uber again,” Wolfe said, handing her his phone as he stared around the street at the less glitzy, and mostly closed for the night, buildings around them. A single gas station appeared to be open. “I’ll wash up, then we need to get out of here again. We still have work to do.”

“Hell of a job you have,” Shel said, soberly.

“Yeah. Hell of a job.”