“Something is troubling you, Mistress Bishop,” Ford said. He kept his eyes on the road. Lorelei sat in the passenger seat, stewing and pouting at the city of China Grove as it blurred outside the window. Rufus Ford had been her first and only partner over the past year she’d been employed by the Speedwagon Foundation. He always treated her as if she were royalty, but never in a fawning way.
The deference, her partner told her, came from his life before awakening his stand. Ford was former British SAS, though he seldom talked about that part of his life. Afterwards, he’d gone into the world of the modern butler, putting his dedication and mission-focused mind to use in the private sector. From what Lorelei could piece together, he’d spent a number of years as a butler before joining the SWF, and his excessive politeness was a holdover from his previous occupation.
Lorelei usually found it cute, yet strangely comforting, like having an uncle around. Other times, however, she chafed under his rigid demeanor, as if her own father watched over her every move, never outwardly voicing his displeasure, but letting it radiate outwards.
Ford rarely indulged in hypotheticals, saying that he found them boring. He either asked a question because he wanted to know the answer, or he made a concrete observation. So, when he said that something was bothering Lorelei, he wasn’t actually asking if that was true or what it was that was bothering her, rather, he simply observed the emotion in his partner, and was letting her know that he knew. A professional courtesy.
He was right, of course, like he usually was. Ford rarely spoke up about things he knew little about, another habit picked up over his decades of service. Discrete described Rufus Ford, and she’d come to rely on that. Where she often acted rashly, he counseled patience when he thought it best or offered support when quick action was necessary. His keen aptitude to cut to the heart of any given situation made him a good partner, but an insufferable friend.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” she said, taking the bait. She would need to explain her intuition, as Ford didn’t deal with nebulous feelings. “I was sure Joules would come with us.”
“I’m surprised to say that I expected that as well,” Ford agreed. “However, unlike you or I, he did have a life to go back to. After what he’s been through, perhaps the best thing he could do would be to forget this whole mess.”
Lorelei tugged at a wayward strand of purple hair. “I really was a mess, huh?”
“Things rarely go exactly as planned,” Ford said, “but I can’t say that the effort was entirely wasted. Dealing with M. Davis before he could terrorize anyone else is a victory, and the discovery of Edward Oakley confirms the suspicions of an awakening cascade taking place. This is all valuable information. I suspect we’ll be spending quite a bit more time in China Grove before this is all said and done. Perhaps your paths will cross again.”
Her partner’s words made sense like they always did, but Lorelei couldn’t shake the wave of unease that crashed over her. In the year since she’d joined the SWF, she learned two things: always trust Ford, and ignore Ford when her gut disagreed. Right now, she couldn’t ignore the nagging in her head. She’d been certain that Joules would tag along. She had even expected him to not bother going back up to his dorm. In the short time she’d gotten to know him in the midst of their unfortunate introduction and chaotic path to freedom, she’d gotten the distinct impression that Joules was someone wholly dissatisfied with his life. His awakening should have been the catalyst for a massive life change.
But she’d been proven wrong as the fifteen minute time limit Ford had set came and went with Joules nowhere to be seen.
“I guess so,” she said with a huff. She hated being wrong.
Two police cars flipped on their red and blue lights and blared their sirens before peeling out of a parking lot, burning past Lorelei in the opposite direction. She craned her neck and followed them until they drove out of sight.
“At least you’re not the only one having a bad day,” Ford said. That was the closest thing to a joke he’d said all day.
Two police cars were easy enough to ignore, but when four more sped by, all in the direction of the college, Lorelei’s gut twisted. She knew something was wrong, but she couldn’t vocalize it. They just needed to turn around. Ford could drive her past the campus gates to put her mind at ease. Yet, the more police cars passed them, the more certain she became of her fear.
“We have to turn around,” she said.
“You’re being paranoid,” Ford said. “I’m sure in less than an hour, Master Jordan hasn’t gotten himself into an entire police fleet’s worth of trouble.”
“Then stop the car,” Lorelei said. “Stop, and I’ll get out and walk. You can pick me up later.”
“You’re serious, then?” Ford asked, and Lorelei knew what it meant.
Losing one’s self in the unpredictability of other Stand users was a surefire way to crack your brain like an egg. Countless agents before them had convinced themselves of grand conspiracies and intricate plots against humanity great and small. Trying to untangle Fate paradoxically further enslaved a Stand user entangled in its web.
Try as she might to resist the feeling blooming in her brain, she could not ignore her instinct. It hadn’t been a coincidence that she’d met Joules, and it wasn’t a coincidence that he was in trouble now. She would follow this strand of Fate to its end.
“Turn around.”
----------------------------------------
“Joules!”
There was no rhythm to Joules’ breath. He jerked and spasmed on the floor of the lobby, writhing in a growing puddle of blood. Each breath dragged hot coals over the gaping wound in his stomach. He could hardly keep his eyes open, but the voice in his head begged him not to close them. If he closed his eyes, a part of him knew he’d never open them again.
“Benji,” he managed to say. “Get out of here.”
Benji couldn’t get out, of course. The best he could do would be to crawl along the ground with his useless legs dragging behind him. Without another distraction, or functioning legs, Benji had no chance to escape. If Benji couldn’t escape, they were both dead.
“This sucks,” Joules said. “Damn it, I was really sure that was gonna work.”
He was talking just to keep himself awake, but he knew it was futile. Eventually, his body would give out, and it’d be lights out for Joules Jordan, shot dead for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. He’d come all this way just to catch a bullet meant for some crippled nerd.
What a pain.
There was a lot of pain. Joules could count on one hand the number of times he’d been in real pain before today. He wasn’t a particularly adventurous or daring kid and had grown up into a relatively risk-averse young man. In the end, however, it hadn’t meant a damn thing. He’d gotten involved, made a choice, acted in the interest of someone else, and it had all come back to bite him in the ass.
What, are you giving up already?
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“It’s not like I’m throwing in the towel,” he said out loud to the voice in his head. “I just got my clock cleaned. No shame in going down like that.”
Don’t you want to survive?
“Yeah, I’d really rather not bleed out on the floor,” Joules said. “But that’s how it is. If you’re taking requests, I’d like a beer before I go.”
What could you do with ten seconds?
“Shit, I don’t know, probably drag my ass to a slightly less bloody part of the floor to die on.”
“Snap out of it Joules! China Grove PD is on their way!” Benji said, still accessing the internet with [Paranoid Android] projected on his glasses. “But Castillo’s still out there. Just hold on a little longer.”
Joules pressed his hand to the wound in his gut, sending white hot daggers of pain throughout his body. He could still feel; he was still lucid.
“His Stand,” Joules said. “Tell me about his Stand.”
“I-I didn’t get a good look at it,” Benji said. “But from what I saw, it looked like he was in two places at once. One shot at me, and the other shot at you.”
Joules laughed. It just kept getting better and better. “That’s bullshit. He gets to be two places at once and all I get is to-”
He sat up. The pain nearly knocked him out as his stomach howled in protest. He doubled over, desperately fighting back against himself. Ten seconds. What could he get up to in ten seconds.
“Sorry, Benji, but this might hurt a bit.” He didn’t wait for Benji’s acknowledgment. “[Do Dope Fuck Hope]!”
His Stand flashed into existence, holding a syringe in each hand. It jammed one into Benji’s neck and the other into Benji’s leg. Benji screamed in pain as [Do Dope Fuck Hope] pulled an oily ichor into its needles. He recoiled as the Stand removed itself.
“That one first,” Joules said. “Be careful, will you? One wrong move and I’m deader than I already am.”
His Stand jabbed the first syringe into Joules’ gut. [Do Dope Fuck Hope] pushed a third of it in before removing it. He howled in agony as a chill as cold as death itself flooded inside of him. He began to go numb. His breathing slowed, but the pain began to recede.”
“The other one,” Joules croaked, his words almost freezing in his throat. “Hurry!”
[Do Dope Fuck Hope] plunged the second needle straight into Joules’ carotid artery. It was as if he’d been hooked to a car battery. Benji’s fear and adrenaline burned away the mounting cold from Joules’ body. His breathing quickened. He felt alive.
“How far away is he?” Joules asked, the words no longer weak.
“Uh, not far. Why?”
“I need to borrow your wheelchair.”
[Do Dope Fuck Hope] hauled the discarded wheel chair above its head and hurled it towards Castillo. As soon as it left his Stand’s grasp, Joules bolted for the shattered door, nearly tripping over the body of the RA.
He closed the distance in three seconds. The wheel chair, obscuring Joules as it flew towards the hit man, crashed into the space Castillo had been a fraction of a second before. By the time Castillo had his rifle aimed, Joules was on top of him.
“Take this you piece of shit!” Joules screamed. “[Do Dope Fuck Hope]!”
“What!?”
Castillo’s Stand appeared between Joules and Castillo. White and red with a singular, camera-like eye in the center of its face, it took the punch meant for Castillo with its arms crossed. It countered, pushing off[Do Dope Fuck Hope], breaking its hasty guard and punching it directly in the chest, sending Joules flying backwards.
“You’ll never defeat [30 Seconds to Mars] with a stand as slow as yours!” Castillo said. “Once I’ve dealt with you, I’ll kill Mr. Roboto! Only, this time, I think I’ll take my sweet time!”
“Like hell you are!” Joules said. He kicked himself up, still fueled by the borrowed adrenaline. He lashed out with [Do Dope Fuck Hope], ready to plunge the still full syringe into Castillo, ending the fight in a single move. But [30 Seconds to Mars] was as quick as Castillo boasted. It caught [Do Dope Fuck Hope] by the wrist with both its hands, shielding its master from the needle.
“You bastard!” Joules screamed. He pressed into [30 Seconds to Mars] with every fiber of his being. “I’ve got you!”
Suddenly, Joules was flung back again. He gagged as the force of the blow took his breath away.
No. Impossible. He was trapped. I had him pinned.
He hit the ground hard. The wound in his gut flared, tearing through the numbness. He looked up at Castillo, at [30 Seconds to Mars], and at a second [30 Seconds to Mars].
Two Stands? You’re kidding me.
The second stand faded away, while the first remained. Castillo broke out into a thunderous peal of laughter, as if it was all some huge joke, and Joules was the punchline.
“You fool! [30 Seconds to Mars] can repeat any action I make! I don’t need to worry about defending against your useless attacks! As long as I have something stored in my Stand, it’s as if I have another Stand entirely!”
He grabbed the rifle he’d dropped in the initial rush. He briefly inspected it for any damage, then leveled it against Joules. “Now I and [30 Seconds to Mars] will shoot you, and you won’t be able to stop me this time.”
Joules coughed, sprinkling the grass with blood. “You think so?”
“Watch me!”
Castillo’s trigger finger spasmed, then went limp. The rifle dropped to the ground, unstable in his now useless left hand.
“What’s going on?” Castillo howled. “I can’t move my arm! What the hell did you do?”
Joules wiped the blood off his lips with the back of his hand. He struggled to his feet. “You were so preoccupied with stopping the blow that you didn’t realize I’d pricked your Stand. I didn’t get a clean jab, so it took a little longer than I hoped, but I can’t argue with results.”
“What have you done to me!?”
The stuff I injected into you I got from Mr. Roboto,” Joules said. “He’s a good guy, but his legs don’t work good. I thought you might like to feel what it’s like to lose something like that. I don’t know how long it’ll last; I didn’t get a real good hit in, but it should be long enough to teach you a lesson.”
[Do Dope Fuck Hope] appeared behind him.
“I don’t need my arms to summon my Stand!” Castillo said. “Finish him, [30 Seconds to Mars]!”
The red and white stand materialized in front of Castillo, ready to defend its master, but try as it might, it couldn’t raise its arms. Joules shook his head.
“I kinda hoped it worked like that,” he said. “Definitely makes this next part easier.”
[Do Dope Fuck Hope] unleased a barrage of lightning-fast punches, too quick for the eye to see at the defenseless Stand. The force of the blows transferred to Castillo, who flew backwards. For the final touch, [Do Dope Fuck Hope] grabbed [30 Seconds to Mars] by the neck with one hand and pierced the enemy stand with the remainder of the oily fluid still within the syringe. This time, it went all the way in, and [30 Seconds to Mars] went limp. A moment later, so too did Castillo.
Joules stood over the immobile body of his foe. “I’m getting real tired of people like you picking on people. I’m not gonna kill you. But you’re gonna spend the rest of your miserable life stuck in your body. I’d get comfortable if I were you.”
“Curse you… bastard.”
Joules didn’t have to kick the man in the ribs; he couldn’t feel it anyway. However, it would be wrong to say Joules didn’t enjoy it.
In the distance, the sound of sirens came up the hill. The police were here, just as Benji said they would be. He wasn’t sure how he’d explain everything, but he’d think of something. For now, he let himself collapse to the floor. The adrenaline and numbness were wearing off, and he braced himself for the return of the pain. Hopefully, the police had an ambulance in tow.
To be continued...