‘DAMN IT! DAMN IT! DAMN IT!!!’
Pedro punched the truck with each yell, unable to hold back his frustrations on how things had gone down.
‘HEY! This’s my truck! Y’ wanna smash up a ride? Climb in the back and go t’ town on y’r own!’.
He didn’t respond to Kenda’s remark, barely aware she’d said anything.
‘I should’ve known that Sophia wouldn’t help! Only interested in what she can get out’ve something! Damn it! We’ve wasted too much time on this! Should never had suggested it!’.
‘Yeah, yeah, y’r buddy… well not buddy… turned out t’ not be worth much. We’re not too far from Chuck though. Hopefully he’s got somethin’ for us’.
Blood pounded through Wilde’s skull as he sat, head in hands for a moment to regain his composure. He felt the cool metal of his mother’s ring in his right palm, and it soothed him somewhat. As much as he hated it there was a tiny part of him that was grateful about how things had gone with Sophia; that he got to keep his mother’s ring. Not because it was a useful magical item, although it certainly was, but because it meant there was still a small part of his mother with him. Pedro could still remember when he saw her make it when he was just a toddler, her melting down the silver, pouring it into the mould she’d meticulously crafted, the incantations she’d made throughout the process. The entire act of constructing it seemed like magic to Pedro at the time, not just the actual enchanting of the focus, but taking some scraps of tarnished silver and transforming it into something beautiful.
Jewellery making was a hobby of his mothers, one that she rarely got the opportunity to engage in living in the Redmond barrens, but he could remember how much joy it seemed to bring her. He’d always intended to learn a bit of it from her, he’d picked up a couple of things from watching her, but Pedro had never actually taken the time to learn from his mother. It was something that he always thought about doing but never gotten around to.
Shaking his head and the lingering regret away with it Pedro focused on the streets speeding past them as Kenda tore through Redmond. The truck drove over cracked roads with weeds defiantly growing beside them, through empty lots that once held buildings lost to time and urban decay, and at one point driving straight through a hollowed-out building that had a makeshift road running through it. The troll driver had been driving at great speed at first but now seemed to be slowing and taking a confusing series of turns as she continued.
‘What’s going on? Are we being tailed?’.
‘Hm? Oh no we’re good. Just the gangs here all have a bunch’ve rules about where y’ can cross into other gang’s territories. Need t’ take a dumbass route just to get t’ Chucks from here if we don’t want t’ get shot-up’.
‘I thought you didn’t know anything about the local gangs?’.
Suspicion tinted Wilde’s voice and his thoughts, but if Kenda picked up on it she didn’t mention anything.
‘I don’t. Just know some’ve the safe routes through the barrens. Chuck taught me em’. I know some of the signs that show it’s alright t’ drive down a street, but I don’t know what gangs or whoever made em’.
It was a reasonable explanation, and one that made going to this “Chuck” seem slightly more viable of an option of assistance. If he knew gang signs, then he might know who had grabbed Kay based off the description. Pedro just wished that they could’ve had the conversation over a commlink rather than waste more time taking a convoluted path to him.
‘So… Y’ wanna talk ‘bout what happened back there?’.
‘It’s none of your business!’.
‘Hey, y’re the one who insisted on goin’! Made out that lady was gonna snap her fingers and give us where Kay is! I just wanna know that she isn’t gonna call who’sever grabbed Kay an’ given them a heads up’.
‘Sophia… She won’t. Even if she won’t help us, she wouldn’t go that far. She’s a true believer in the whole neo-anarchist cause; directly helping corp goons kidnapping one of their own would go against everything she believes in’.
‘But she’s willin’ t’ let it go down without doin’ anything ‘bout it?’.
‘I didn’t say she wasn’t a bitch… Sigh, Sophia’s got power in Touristville and the neo-anarchist movement as a whole in Seattle. She still believes in taking down the megacorps, but she isn’t keen on weakening the influence or cashing in the favours she’s built up over the years. So, she plays the long game, looking to win through attrition rather than big moves. She’s an elf, she’ll live for hundreds of years, she can afford to think like that. Only time she ever chooses to take any sort of risk is when she’s getting a clear and obvious pay-out at the end of it’.
‘Like y’r moms ring?’.
‘Yeah… like that… cept I didn’t know that there was a time limit on that offer. I figured she’d still want it and be willing to help out to get it. But she didn’t, and so isn’t inclined to lift a damn finger for Kay. Bitch that she is…’.
‘…It kinda sounded like there was some more history between y’ two… and y’r mom…’.
‘It! That!... Ugh. My mom and Sophia were both big into the neo-anarchist movement, standing against the oppression of the megacorporations, standing up for personal liberties, all that sort of thing. Anyway, one day Sophia calls up my mom, asking her to go to this big protest. Tells her that it’ll be peaceful, no weapons or anything, just locals making a stand for themselves. My mom goes and at first it seems fine. Then somebody takes a shot. Corps say it was the protesters, protesters say it was the corp goons, in the end it doesn’t matter. Only thing that does is that my mom was about the only person there unarmed and was caught between two groups shootin’ the hell outta each other. She never stood a chance’.
Pedro paused, his voice quivering with emotion. He felt a pain in his right hand and realised that he’d clenched his fist so tight that his fingernails were drawing blood from his palm. Loosening his grip he took a deep breath to collect himself.
‘… That’s rough man… I’m sorry about what happened with your mom’.
‘Thing is, I can accept what happened to a point. I mean, you take a stand against the megacorporations you tend to get smacked down hard. What I can’t accept is what happened afterwards’.
‘Y’ said they made money off her dyin’?’.
‘They marketed her death! Turned her into a martyr for the cause and drummed up support for it off her dead body! They had pictures of her dead body plastered on the streets and the local matrix for months after! I had random jackasses pointing cameras in my face getting me to talk about her, what her death meant to me. But they didn’t care about her though, not really. Just what she represented to them. Or for them. And there were plenty of people making money from her death. They were selling posters with pictures of her dead face on in! One guy who helped organise the protest started up a campaign to raise money for her family “to support them after her passing”. I never saw a single nuyen from it. I asked him about it and he said that he meant family as in “the greater neo-anarchist family she was part of”. Next day I saw the cybered bastard driving around in a brand-new car, a GMC Phoenix. I cut ties with the whole neo-anarchist movement after that, never looked back’.
‘…That’s… some pretty messed up dreck. So what? The whole neo-anarchist thing is just a con they use t’ make money?’.
‘No… There are good people in it, like my mom, people trying to fight the good fight. But there are plenty of people who’ve got their own agendas they care more about or are just looking for a way to get more power for themselves. The whole thing is just…’, He swirled his hands together. ‘Too muddled up. Good people mixed with dreckheads and I just can’t be bothered trying to work out who’s who anymore. Let ‘em sort themselves out, I don’t care anymore’.
‘… An’ whatabout Sophia? Where’s she rank on your scale or don’t I need to ask?’.
‘She’s like the movement as a whole; too mixed up to know what she really is or what she really wants. I think she does believe in the cause; I just don’t think she’s willing to risk much for it now is all. Can you just drop this now, it’s irrelevant anyway. Sophia’s made herself clear’.
‘Yeh, yeh, keep y’r cool. Just tryin’ t’ make some conversation while we’re drivin’ is all’.
Wilde was relived when his commlink chirped as it gave him an excuse to ignore Kenda and her bringing up all his conflicting feelings towards Sophia and neo-anarchism. It came as a surprise when he saw that it was a message from Miguel, and he found himself in such a rush to open it that the commlink half slipped through his trembling fingers.
‘Hey. Sorry about not bein’ able to help with Kay, really. I get you like her and all, but I’ve got to do right by the gang like they’ve done by me. Anyways, it’s kinda crazy here just now with the whole gang war but I asked some guys and they said it sounds like she might’ve been grabbed by Nitro Mizuchi. They’re a street gang that’s mainly based in Renton, but they’ve got at least one chapter here in Redmond. They sound like yakuza cosplayers with a thing for cars and novacoke from what I’ve been told. Don’t know much else. Hope you find Kay’.
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Instinctually a smile slowly formed on Pedro’s lips as he read over the text of the message again. It wasn’t much to go off, it could even be incorrect, but after the meeting with Sophia going so badly, he was just happy for something to go his way.
‘Thanks’.
A one-word text message on a commlink was a poor thank you, he knew that, and it wasn’t even an apology for how he’d spoken to Miguel last time, but it was all Wilde could muster. He swore to himself that he’d find a way to make it up to him later. For the time being though Wilde’s mind was a laser that was aimed at the rescue of Kay.
‘I’ve got a name for the fraggers that kidnapped Kay. “Nitro Mizuchi”, they’re a gang that run mainly outta Renton’.
Kenda’s head snapped to look at Pedro, apparently ignoring the road ahead of her in a worrying display for him.
‘Y’ know its them for sure?! Y’ got the place their holdin’ Kay? Where is it!?’.
‘Watch the damn road you fragging cyberpsycho!’.
Just as quickly as it had snapped over to him, her head whipped around to face the road again. Just in time for her to make a sharp turn to avoid a burnt-out wreck of a car.
‘Is the intel good though?!’.
‘I trust the source, but it’s just the gang that best matches the description that Kay gave me. Could be their wrong. Or it could be that the people who took her were trying to frame the Nitro Mizuchi. Or just wanted to throw people off their trail. It’s more than we had though; hopefully your buddy can tell us more about these guys and help us work out if it is them’.
‘Hopefully, yeah… We’re just comin’ up on his place now’.
As Kenda said that she turned round a corner and brought into view a mountain of rubble. No, on closer inspection it wasn’t just rubble, Wilde was sure he saw a few crumbling remnants of buildings poking through the mounds that made up the junkyard. It looked as if someone had planted a colossal magnet that had dragged every fragment of burnt, rusted, corroded or otherwise ruined metal into the place. The perimeter was protected by a sturdy, if ramshackle chain linked fence topped with a judicious amount of razor wire. Wilde could make out the remains of some sort of concrete barrier at the base of the fence, but he couldn’t tell if it was an old wall that had been torn down at some point or if it had once been a building that had collapsed in on itself during the long decay of Redmond.
Past the chain link fence Pedro could see the hills of ruined metal that made up the junkyard, a silent monument to the urban decay that was such an intrinsic part of the barrens. A graveyard for vehicles and technology that could no longer keep pace in the modern world.
Rumbling over the cracked and pitted road Kenda drove her pickup through a set of wrought iron gates that wouldn’t have looked out of place on some executive’s estate twenty years ago. Now though, with once spotless white paint now discoloured with smog, flaking off to reveal the rusting metal beneath it seemed to fit in as well as anything it the mishmash of the junkyard.
‘Anything I should know about this guy before we talk to him?’.
‘I’m talkin’ t’ Chuck. Y’ can stay in the truck’.
‘Screw that! You came with me when I spoke to Sophia’.
‘Yeh, an’ I wish I didn’t’. She muttered under her breath.
‘Hey! I’m not just gonna sit here twiddling my thumbs while I wait for you! If we’re doing this, we’re doing this together’.
‘Ugh, fine. Just try not t’ make a scene’.
Parking the truck next to a stack of what looked to be crushed cars near the entrance she got out and started to fiddle with her commlink. Upon opening the truck door Wilde’s nose was assaulted with the usual smell of smog infused air, mixed with that of rusting metal and the faint smell of oily smoke. He spotted Kenda sniffing the air upon leaving the truck and frowning.
‘Ah dreck, one of the engines musta caught fire. Ah well I didn’t see any flames so it either isn’t bad or the worst of it’s over’.
‘What’re you talking about?’.
‘Huh? Oh, most’ve the stuff here isn’t in great condition. Sometimes the chemicals in older electric batteries break down an’ combust. Fires can get intense dependin’ on how big they are an’ what it’s next t’. Tends to get all the devil rats riled up as well’.
‘Is it going to be a problem?’.
‘Probably not. I can smell the smoke but if it was a big fire we’da seen it drivin’ up. Best keep y’r gun out while we go through her though for devil rats’.
‘Where’s your buddy anyway, can’t we just drive through here?’.
He gestured to one of the wider passageways through the junkyard. There didn’t appear to be any rhyme or reason to the layout of the place with cars stacked next to bursting bags of corroding batteries, next to piles of rusting sheet metal. There were several passageways throughout the labyrinthine junkyard but there was no signage to direct a visitor, nor was there any sign that the place was even occupied outside of the fencing and gate to the place.
‘Na, that’s a fake way Chuck set up. Just leads t’ a dead end. His place is in the middle of the junkyard and there’s only a couple’ve paths t’ it. All on foot’.
Pedro raised an eyebrow incredulously.
‘Man likes his privacy’.
She said with a shrug as her only response as she walked down one of the narrow passages between piles of scrap that dwarfed even her giant frame. Wilde sighed and walked behind her, hoping that nobody would steal either his bike or Kenda’s pickup where it was still lying in the back of. He also double checked that his pistol was fully loaded, not wanting to have to use any spells against potential devil rats or whatever other urban predators made their layer in the junkyard if he could afford to. While bullets cost money, whenever Wilde cast a spell there was always a chance that it would leave him feeling drained and slightly weakened. Not something he wanted to be worrying about if he was going to rescue Kay.
They had only been walking through the junkyard for a few minutes, Kenda marching on ahead with Wilde slinking behind her, their boots squelching in the oil-stained muddy ground before Wilde attempted to fill the awkward silence between them. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered talking to the cybered-up troll who wanted to take Kay away from him, but he disliked walking into an unknown environment to meet up with an unknown person even more. Knowledge was a valuable tool and potent weapon if used properly.
‘You never answered me earlier. Is there anything I should know about this Chuck?’.
‘Chuck? I dunno, not really. He’s an orc. He used t’ be part’ve the Cascade Orc Tribe back’n the day. Never said why he left, but I reckon it must’ve been on good terms; he’s still in contact with folks back home…’.
Her mechanical marching slowed for a moment, and she gazed up into the sky. The yellow clouds now had a touch of sickly green to them; there was a chance there’d be some mildly acidic rain later. She snapped out of whatever daze she had fallen under and resumed her normal pace taking a turn to the right so quickly that she bashed her shoulder against a sheet of aluminium and bent it into a ninety-degree angle.
‘Sooo… Nothing else important about him?’.
‘I told y’ before, he has a thing about the Matrix. Doesn’t trust it, doesn’t do anything t’ a vehicle t’ hook it up t’ it, so he doesn’t get a lot of business out here. Suits him fine though. Chuck aint a people person. Just let me do the talkin’, don’t make any sudden moves an’ don’t act threatenin’ to him an’ we’ll be outta here quick-’.
Skittering, scrabbling sounds suddenly erupted behind and before the two temporary allies and from the rusting hulks that made up the junkyard came a horde of rats. The rancid smelling creatures squeaked and yelped as the majority of them swarmed away from the two, but two separate groups cut off their escape and progress routes. At the centre of each of them was a huge rat like creature, closer in size to dogs than their rodent cousins, they were both pale, furless things, ugly wrinkled bodies covered with a patchwork of scars, some faded, some fresh. Despite being animals Wilde couldn’t help but feel that the looks in their eyes seemed more malign than a typical predators should. Then again, devil rats were famed for their aggression at the best of times, and with himself and Kenda apparently boxed in the creatures perhaps felt the satisfaction of being assured fresh meat. He smirked slightly at the thought of the beasts choking on the wires running through Kenda’s body but pushed the mental image to the side. While they were only two of them, these ones seemed to hold a sway over the common rats beside them. That suggested that they possessed some kind of magical ability which was rare but not unheard of. What concerned him was if they possessed other abilities that would make fighting them more difficult.
‘Ah dreck. Thought I’d got the last’ve the devil rats a couple weeks back’.
‘Well, no time like the present to finish the job’.
‘Just don’t tell Chuck ‘bout this. He paid me to kill’em all an’ if he hears I missed some I’m gonna get an earful’.
‘If you can’t be bothered, I’ll do them. How’d you like your devil rat? Chargrilled or extra crispy?’.
‘DON’T IDIOT! Didn’t I just say ‘bout some’ve the stuff here bein’ flammable! ‘Side’s, these ones seem weird. Why’re the little ones not runnin’ off?’.
Wilde sighed and rolled his eyes at her ignorance, trying to come up with an explanation suitable for someone uninitiated in magical matters.
‘It’s… a magic thing alright? When we kill the devil rats the normal ones will run off’.
He raised his right arm towards the devil rat that was blocking their way forward. The feral creatures seemed to be waiting for them to make the first move, perhaps unnerved over the pairs lack of concern over their presence, if they were capable of such feelings.
Kenda might’ve been a cybered-up meathead, but she raised a fair point about potential environmental hazards. One thing Wilde had learnt from competing in as many Urban Brawl matches over the past couple of years was that unexpected explosions tended to make things more complicated. Fortunately for him, he had plenty more ways of dealing with rodents than just a flamethrower spell.
Ambient mana twisted and warped around Wilde, invisible to Kenda but angering the devil rat he faced which hissed and spat at the display of power. The normal rats began to charge on mass at him in response to this, but he felt no concern. The mama bolt he had created soared through the air and struck the devil rat square in the head killing it outright. There was no sign of what had happened to a non-magically active witness, the spell was purely mana based. It didn’t even produce inertia when it struck its target. The devil rat simply seemed to collapse and die.
With the force and will commanding them gone the rats that were impeding their progress scattered before them mid-charge. Truth be told it wasn’t especially impressive. Devil rats were dangerous if they caught a person unawares or if they were part of a massive swarm. Against one or two of them any long time Redmond resident would be fine.
BLAM! BLAM!
The two gunshots rang out through the maze of aging metal surrounding them, but the shots found their mark and the second devil rat that was behind them. The corpse danced through the air, carried by the impact of the bullets as the remaining group of rats fled the scene. Apparently, Kenda was competent enough a shot to kill a devil rat, the barrens must have been rubbing off on her. She turned around and cast an inquisitive eye over Wilde’s devil rat. He assumed it was inquisitive at least, it was difficult to tell with the pitch-black orbs she had for eyes.
‘A spell?’.
‘I know some non-flammable ones for instances like these. Let’s get moving now. We’ve wasted enough time already’.
He started to push past the massive troll but paused, remembering that she was the only one who knew the way through the confusing maze of a junkyard they were in. Instead, he stood next to her and made an elaborate gesture for her to continue. She made a mocking cross between a bow and a curtsy and resumed her rapid march with Wilde following swiftly behind her.