Erection walked out his front door to find Winter smoking a cigarette, leaning against his car. His mind, fuzzy, and still confused was even more shocked to find his partner waiting for him. They always met at the stationhouse in the morning.
“Wint? What are you—?”
“We got a lead.” Winter said, flicking his cigarette away and walking to the driver seat of the car. Erection watched him but remained fixed.
“Huh?”
Winter opened the door, and slapped the roof of his car.
“Patriotism Act four!” He shouted. Erection shook his head.
“I’m not following you.”
“That…bombing, whatever you call it, well last night after you went home the Feds made it an act of terrorism. And that…” He waved a hand to his partner. Realization slowly dawned on Erection’s face.
“That lets it fall under the PAIV.”
“Right. So while you were getting your beauty sleep I looked through everything that the government unsealed about everything relating to the case, and guess what? Turns out one of those midgets, you ready for this? He was a FBI informant?”
“You’re shitting me?”
“Nope!” Winter laughed. “And get this, he had his cell traffic monitored by the Feds. I didn’t get the whole picture, I mean there’s still some red tape that our new age of ‘cooperation’ doesn’t cut through, but something came through yesterday about Grand Central at 9am.”
Erection looked at his watch, it was a little before 8. He jumped towards the passenger side of the car and opened the door.
“Think we’ll make it?”
They got in the car and closed the doors behind them. Winter groaned and threw the car into drive.
“Cross Bronx was a mess and so is the FDR. Who told you to live in the fucking BX anyway?”
“The rent.” Erection laughed as he slammed the hammer on the roof of the car and turned it on.
“Should have nice Irish grandparents who lived in Hell’s Kitchen since they stepped off of the boat.”
“But then I’d be a—”
Erection’s words died in his throat as he noticed the twin shoulder holsters under Winter’s jacket. Each held chrome plated 357. Magnums.
“What’s up with the hardware?” He asked.
“Huh?” Winter said, glancing down. “Oh. I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I got a bad feeling about this.”
“What do you mean?”
Winter looked at his partner as they sped up Fordham Avenue. “I been doing this a lot longer than you, and I get feelings about stuff. Sometimes they’re right, and sometimes they’re wrong, but I learned it’s better to be prepared than not. So I strapped heat today.”
Erection smirked and said, “But…who the hell is going to shoot up Grand Central?”
Winter shrugged and turned back to the road, swerving to avoid a car that was going to the speed limit.
“Stranger things have happened.” He said.
Lo Mein knotted his tie and pulled his collar over it. He flexed his arms and then his legs and laughed. “Man, I can’t feel a thing!”
Dolomite took a few hesitant steps and then jogged around the room. “I’ll be dammed, it’s like wearing nothing at all!” He looked at Knight and said, “And this thing will really stop bullets.”
Knight nodded and turned around. Dolomite stopped jogging and chuckled. “Man that is sharp as shit!”
Knight winked at them from behind his glasses, and ran his fingers through his hair. He wore a black Armando suit, custom tailored so it fit his long lean body perfectly. Under the blazer he wore a purple shirt and a black tie. Across the two were two tie clips, golden arrows pointed in different directions.
“Damm hood fucks it all up though.” Knight grunted trying to push the material under the blazer.
“What’s up with the tie clips?” Lo Mein asked.
Knight reached over and picked up a large duffle bag. He walked towards a door on the other side of the room. The other DIKs followed.
“It’s a symbol. The Cross. It’s sorta hard to explain, but it means when a person has seen all the angles.” He laughed. “Three hundred degrees of perfected styles.” He opened the door, and turned to the guys.
“Really the number one is supposed to wear it, and it doesn’t have to be tie clips it can be anything, just as long as it comes in pairs.” He laughed. “Not any pair, but…well like I said it’s a long story. Anyway, considering that my Guild membership is over today…I don’t know it just seems fitting.”
He walked inside the room and turned on the flood lights above. Lo Mein and Dolomite gasped again. In front of them was a silver 1976 Ashton Martin.
Knight pulled the keys out of his pocket, and used the remote to unlock the doors.
“This was Luke’s last gift to me.” He said, popping the trunk and placing the duffle bag inside it. “After I came back to the states, and saw that I’d be staying, I had her boated over here, and I packed her away. I never drove it.”
“Knight…” Lo Mein said. “The car you never drove, the suit you never wore…”
“Yeah?” Knight said.
“Well, you’re not planning to get buried in that suit are you?”
Knight slammed the trunk, and chuckled. “Nah, but I’ll be doing a lot of burying. Now get in. I gotta lay down this plot.”
On board the 7:30 Amtrac to Grand Central a rotund, bald headed man wearing a brown suit carried a file of papers under his arm. The file contained the records and charter of the City College chapter of Delta Iota Kappa. He sat in his seat quietly, his eyes fixed forward. He didn’t check his watch. He would be on time.
---
And so, our players were in place, arrows all aimed at the same target, the same time, the same space, but each with individual goals and plans. But the best laid plans of mice and men go wrong because of chance, and in this case chance presented itself in the form of two gay men tanning on an immaculate beach on Fire Island. It had been a long week of training (and partying) for the natural Vampire hunters, but it was coming to an end and soon they would all put this weekend in the past and return to their lives.
Destro though planned to enjoy the sun for as long as possible.
At sunrise he dragged his beau out of the cabana and down to the beach to catch the Eastern rays. Destro’s man, Bryant, a lawyer who worked in the US Justice Department, was burdened down with work, and had already been at his desk, sitting in front of his laptop, going over numerous e-mails and documents pertaining to several cases he was working on. He was expected to have reports and recommendations the next day and he was at least two days behind in his work. At first he’d resisted Destro’s plea to tan on the beach, but when Destro explained that there was wi-fi there, Bryant conceded, switched into his Speedos and off they went. At 8:47 am, just as Destro began reading over the third chapter of the latest edition of Demolition Physics, Bryant looked up and tapped his man on the shoulder. Destro laid his book over his chest and said,
“What’s up?”
Bryant turned his laptop towards Destro. “We know this guy don’t we?”
Holding a hand up to block out the sun, Destro looked at the screen.
“That’s Knight, he was at our engagement party. He’s one of my brothers.”
“Thought so.” Bryant said sadly. Destro sat up, his instincts ringing like a bell.
“Why is he on your computer?”
Bryant paused, and measured his words carefully.
“You know I’m ethically and legally bound not to talk to anyone about my work—”
“Cut the shit sweetheart. What’s this all about?”
Bryant looked around once, as if there was some one hidden in a sand dune, sighed and passed the laptop to his fiancé.
“Just read it.”
The book slid off his chest and he placed the computer on his knees. He scrolled down and skimmed over the file. Then his eyes found a single word, and the world exploded.
“When did you get this?” Destro shouted.
“About twenty, thirty minutes ago.”
Destro sat the laptop on the sand, and franticly searched around him.
“My phone? Where is it?”
“I think it’s back in the—”
Before the words were out of Bryant’s mouth Destro was already running back to the cabana, his feet kicking up clouds of sand.
8:52am
Knight, Dolomite, and Lo Mein walked into Grand Central station through the 42nd street entrance. As expected the place was frantic with hundreds of people rushing to and fro. A woman in a business suit bumped into Knight, and kept on trotting.
“This place is a zoo.” Lo Mein said.
“Yo, Knight,” Dolomite said. “Look.”
Knight followed his gaze and saw the two National Guard troops standing across the atrium talking to one another. Knight scanned around and found eight more stationed at different corners of the gigantic room. Each carried M-16s over their shoulders. Knight cleared his throat as they headed to the other side of Grand Central. He tried to ignore the queasiness in his stomach, but the feeling couldn’t be denied.
Lo Mein pointed ahead of him. “Look! There he is!”
Knight looked ahead of them, and found Douche Bag, bald, fat, and wearing a brown suit, standing by the stair cases leading down to Track 9. Knight then looked up and found the arrival board against the Western wall. Sure enough, it announced that on Track 9 a train came in from Pennslyania.
“Let’s do this shit.” Dolomite sighed, and began to push through the crowd to the First Brother, who stood by the stairs, unmoving. Lo Mein had rushed ahead but the crowd had slowed Dolomite down just enough for Knight to grab the back of his jacket.
“Wait.” Knight hissed.
“What?” Dolomite said, his eyes glazed with nervousness.
Yeah, what is it? Knight thought to himself as he scanned the room. His eyes moved from person to person, from the roof to the floor.
Nothing’s wrong, he thought. Everything is four-by-four. What the hell is the matter with me?
He was about to let Dolomite go and move forward when he looked at Douche Bag again. He still hadn’t moved. Knight focused in on him and then he gasped. Chuck Down was just not moving, he wasn’t breathing. His chest was as still as ice.
“What is it?” Dolomite asked him. Lo Mein, who was about fifteen feet ahead of them stopped, finally noticing that he had pulled away from his brothers. He turned around and through the crowd saw that Knight and Dolomite were huddled together, their heads nearly touching. He yelled to them, and then looked back at Douche Bag.
“Knight!” Dolomite hissed. “What the—”
“Hold up!” Knight said. He was trying to calm down but according to his senses that…thing that looked like Douche Bag was dead, but the dead don’t walk. Suddenly his phone began to ring with the tune of ‘Boom Bye Bye’.
Destro?
He pulled the phone from his inside pocket and flicked the lock off. It was a text. It was one word, and as Knight read the word his blood went cold.
Killzone.
It was 9am.
“Oh God.” Knight gasped. He looked around and everywhere he saw was people. Hundreds of innocents. Then one of the windows along the side of the terminal shattered and he looked up.
For Knight the world slowed down. If this was a Michael Bay film the camera would have panned around him and Dolomite in a freeze frame. You would see the people over their shoulders look up with panic looks on their faces. Sheer terror. But Knight’s mouth would be fixed in an almost serene look, displaying his skill of slowing time down. You might even be able to make out a look of relief. The play had been called, and set in motion, and as extreme as it was, Knight now knew what he had to deal with, and was ready.
Then, once the camera would have made a full revolution, you would see Knight drop his duffle bag and Iphone and take off like an outfielder in a baseball game, shoving people out of the way as he sprinted towards the grenade. He reached out and caught the sphere in his right hand. Without conscious thought he brought up the lay out of Grand Central in his mind. There was no where to toss the bomb that wouldn’t kill innocent people. Most of these people were dead already, they just didn’t know it yet. So he thought of possible ingress points where the storm of Guild members would come from. There were 16 possible points and they’d all be filled. He picked the stairs by track number 25 and threw it over there like he was trying to catch a runner at home plate. The grenade sailed over the mob and into the hole. He just managed to see three men in black outfits scurry out from the tunnel like rats only to get blown away as the bomb ignited in a ball of fire.
People screamed and ran in all directions. Every exit turned into a slaughter house as people got jammed between the assassins storming in and the mob behind them. You could hear the shattering of bones and popping of skulls as bodies were squashed under more bodies. The smell of fire and cordite filled the air as the hitmen fired indiscriminately into the crowd, putting people down only to get to Knight.
Dolomite was frozen in place, astounded and terrified at the sheer destruction that rained around him. Then he saw Lo Mein, in the same situation, and he ran for him. He knocked into an old woman who bounced off of him and fell to the ground. He looked at Lo and then back at the lady who squealed in pain.
“Jesus Christ.” He yelled, torn between what to do. Off to the side Knight rushed one the National Guardsmen, but he was a blur in the corner of Dolomite’s eye. He went back for the woman, and, ignoring her pleading, he scooped her up in a fireman’s carry and screamed at Lo, “Safe spot! Safe spot!”
Lo Mein somehow heard his brother over the din, and the words got him moving as he remembered Knight’s instructions:
If shit gets nuts, Knight said staring down at a schematic of Grand Central, get behind the info desk here.
Lo Mein ran.
Knight’s steel toed loafer caught the Guardsman in the jaw, and he went out instantly. As he landed out of his tornado kick, Knight pulled the M-16 off the soldier’s shoulder, and, using it as a club he whirled around and caught the other Guardsman in the side of the head, knocking him out. He ducked behind a column and peeked from behind it. A bullet ricocheted off the column knocking him back some, but he returned and took another look. He could see his duffle bag in the middle of the floor, which was getting stampeded as people rushed towards the exits.
Gotta get that bag or we’re dead. But first snipers.
He looked above, and sure enough he could see the flashing laser sights of several sharpshooters.
Stupid.
He shot once, twice, three times. The third time the sniper fell off a balcony, crushing a citizen beneath him. Knight rushed to the next column, and shot four more times. He was sure at least two of those were kills. He felt someone over his shoulder and he swiveled around in time to see the flash of a gun. He caught a round in his side, and then opened fire with the M-16. His assailant, Murphy “Mop” Randell, number 23, was stunned by the impact and the follow up shots were high. Knight reached out and a knife flew from his sleeve, burying itself in Murphy’s eye. More bullets fell in on Knight, and peppered his shoulders. He cursed the snipers above and he ran to the next columns.
Lo Mein and Dolomite huddled next to each other behind the information desk. Joining them were three other men, one of which looked to be the receptionist who worked behind the desk, and the old lady, who passed out. Dolomite checked her pulse. It was fast, but steady. He turned to Lo who had pulled out his .38 and clutched it to his chest like a talisman; he hadn’t stopped cursing since he joined them. Dolomite pulled his out.
“Oh God, motherfuck…”
“Lo!” Dolomite screamed. “Snap outta it.”
“…Christ! Oh fuck!”
He slapped him across the face. Lo blinked and looked at his brother. He chuckled.
“Thanks!”
Dolomite grunted. He did not like that crazy look in Lo’s eyes.
“I’m going to see if I can find Knight.” He said.
“Thanks!” Lo said. Dolomite shook his head, and on his hands and feet he crawled to the side of the desk and looked around it. Bodies lined the floor like cobblestones. Stepping over them were four men, each wearing blue jeans and brown bomber jackets. In their hands they carried assault rifles. One of them shot a person who ran past him, and then crudely kicked the body over. He shook his head, pointed two fingers at one of them, and then pointed at the information desk. Dolomite ducked back under the desk, and raised the gun up till the barrel pressed against his nose.
On the other side of the room, Knight was still thinning out the snipers. He tried to remember how many Guild members were exclusively snipers, but he couldn’t remember, plus there were those, like him, who did everything. He didn’t even know how many were there. A Killzone was supposed to be all members, but there hadn’t been one since the Silent, and then they had a week to pull everyone in. In his case they had—
“Hey you!”
Knight jumped back, as the column in front of him turned to sand, and pulled the trigger on his M-16. The gun clicked in his hand. Out.
Oh shit, Knight thought as he rolled over the floor. Fucking Chatty.
Wearing a polka-dot blouse and neon pink tights, Chatty Cathy, number 13 on the hit list, opened her mouth, and the small cybernetic implant on her neck flashed red. She cried, “Oh come back baby! I just wanna tallllllkkkkkkk!” Chatty had her vocal cords modified years ago to project microwave radiation from her throat. The result was a completely deadly, but stealth less killer.
Still rolling, Knight could feel the ground steam behind him, and in front of him he saw a pair of feet covered by brand spanking new Air Force Ones. With a snap a blade issued out of the shoe’s toe.
“Come to papa!” ‘Kicks’ D’Ortega, number 14 shouted.
Knight waited until he was on his chest, and then he pushed his body off the ground with his arms, sliding his legs forward at the same time. Throwing his head backward, he felt a bullet graze his forehead as he stared at the assassin aiming a gun behind him. He reached out with his arm and fired a knife that flew threw the air and found the shooter’s neck. At the same time ‘Kicks’ threw his sneaker forward, missing Knight’s knee by a fraction of an inch but falling directly into Chatty’s radiation beam. He gasped as he watched his leg boil and evaporate in a cloud of steam. Chatty chuckled, and watched “Kicks” bounce on one leg, screaming in agony.
“Sorry Kicks, but the boy is mineeeeeee!”
Kicks’s head bubbled and then his brains erupted in a pinkish cloud. His demise gave enough time for Knight to recover, and he ran towards the duffle bag, his hands covering his face to ward off stray bullets. He could hear bodies bubble and explode at his heels as Cathy screamed behind him. Almost twenty feet from the bag and he saw two of the Cowboy quadruplets approach from his 10. He shot a couple of knives at them but they ducked outta the way and opened fire with their silver plated Colt .45s. The ground thinned a bit with bodies, so Knight took a running start, slid on the ground, and reached out with both his hands, finding duel pistols on the ground. Not knowing if they were loaded or not he opened fire, catching one of the brothers in the cheek with a round, and the other one he slowed down with two to the chest. The bag came up on his right and he tossed away the gun and replaced it in his hand with the strap of the bag.
Free firing around him, he bounced up, and ducked to the left, where he saw the two other Cowboys heading towards the info booth. He ran in that directions as Cathy slowed down behind him and notched up her throat box to full.
“Goodbye, nice to know YYYYOOOOUUUUUU!”
No one is quite sure who shot the round that struck her in the implant on her throat, but just as she was about to let off the killing note, the red box burst. There was a look of panic on Cathy’s face as her hands both found her neck. For a moment it looked as if she were choking herself as microwave radiation built in intensity within the implant. Without the box to direct its energy, microwave radiation erupted in all directions, and with a loud pop! Her head exploded off her shoulders like a rocket.
The third of the cowboy brothers stepped by the information desk, and looked around. He found two people huddled around an unconscious elderly woman, and beyond them was a young Asian kid, who had his arms raised up to his face. The brother recognized him as one of the secondary targets.
“Wait! Jesus Christ, don’t kill me!” Lo whimpered.
The cowboy chuckled, took a step forward and aimed at Lo Mein’s head. But just as his thumb was about to slide back the hammer on his Colt, he heard the familiar click of a shotgun getting pumped and his head vanished in a pink cloud. He dropped like a sack and Dolomite kicked him to the side as he rolled from under the desk where he’d been hiding.
“You ok Lo?” He asked.
Lo wiped some gore out of his eye brows and frowned. “Yeah. Peachy.”
With a yell Knight jumped behind the information booth, crashing over Dolomite like a runaway train. His suit was shredded with bullet holes and assorted scrapes, and here and there you could make out the brown shine of his skinblock. He rolled on his back, and calmly said, “Dol, could you provide me some cover?”
Dolomite leaned over the counter, and let off some rounds. He groaned and shouted back to Knight, “There’s a lot of them!”
“I know.” Knight sighed, as he opened his duffle bag. “Lo get over here.”
On his hands and knees Lo Mein crawled over to Knight, who held up a tube the side of a C battery on his hand. Over its top was a red cap.
“Pop the top.” Knight said, pushing the top off with his thumb, revealing a tiny metal switch. “Hit the switch.” He said, pushing the switch back with his thumb. “And throw.” He tossed it over his shoulder out into the crowd of assassins. Two of them looked down and noticed the mega-grenade on the floor. They shrugged, dropped their guns, placed their heads between their arms, and hoped the skinblock with absorb most of the impact. The device went of and they sailed through the air, bouncing off the walls like pin balls.
“How many of those do you have?” Lo Mein asked, as Dolomite dropped his gun to the floor.
“Not enough,” Knight groaned as he handed Dolomite another shotgun. He pulled out a small box containing about fifteen mega-grenades and sat it between them. Lo Mein pulled out a hand full and tossed them out two at a time.
The older, more experienced Guild members knew what was up after the first explosion, and retreated to the sidelines. But the rest, thinking that it was a sign of weakness decided to take their chances and marched forward. The bombing didn’t last long but it was intense, and wave after wave of Guild members were driven back, and up by the blasts. Those that were stunned found themselves staring into Dolomite’s shotgun, and that was the last thing they would ever see. Knight grabbed Lo and pointed to the duffle bag.
“Keep Dolomite ammo’ed till I get back!”
“Where are you going?”
“Taking a stroll.” He said. He pulled his hood over his head, and strapped his bulletproof goggles over that. Then he grabbed up five magazines of ammo, and pushed them into his pockets. Finally he withdrew two twin Uzis from his bag, and headed in the other direction. He had heard that the Silent had made a similar maneuver when he went thru his Killzone, and if it was good enough for him...
Keeping his head level with his guns Knight created a wall of death in front of him, taking out those assassins who had been waiting on the sidelines. Suddenly he began to hum to himself as he concentrated on making everything a head shot.
Champion gear that I rock to get yo boots knocked, he thought, as he saw an assassin try to rise to his feet. He turned his gun around and shot him in the head, ducking, and pivoting around to get a better aim on Little Timmy Todd, who was priming his own sticky bomb to toss at him.
Then attack you like a pit that lock shit down!
He let off another burst from his Uzi that hit Todd in his arm. The assassin dropped the bomb, and it got stuck to his leg, the red button on its detonator flashing. He screamed and ran around the room trying to kick the thing off of him. In his panic he rushed backwards into another group of hitmen who screamed as the bomb exploded, and they were blown into bloody wads of flesh.
‘Cause I come, and flip the sound hardcore! But givin you more and more…
Knight might have been singing, but he couldn’t hear anything above the roar of his guns and the pounding of the blood in his veins. Bullets bounced off his body, ripping his fine suit to shreds. He would be all black and blue tomorrow—if he lived till tomorrow—but he could care less. At this moment, this perfect moment, he was the calm center of the universe. Wading in blood and bone, running around the perimeter of the room, unleashing death towards everything, he felt a peace that he’d never felt before. He felt like a god.
Like DING!
Number 20, 16, 15 dropped like flies, all headshots. Miles Darren, number 24, came from the side, and dropping the Uzi, Knight swung up his wrist and felt the gas of the pneumatic engine hiss as the launcher sent another blade into Darren’s open mouth and fly out the back of his neck. Knight didn’t lose a step, as another hitman jumped in front of him. Sandy Rogers, number 13, had an unlucky number and a harder death. Knight kicked him in the knee, shattering it, and as the hitman stumbled, Knight caught him in a headlock and dragged him along side, using him as a human shield, as he blasted two more hitmen in front of him. Ducking around a column, he paused and snapped his neck. He reloaded and crouching over, ran into the center of the room.
Die motherfucker, die motherfucker, die!
In his bloodlust, Knight stopped recognizing numbers, names, and faces. There was some woman dressed as a ninja. Dead. Someone dressed as a Samurai. Dead. Two men in suits. Dead. Dead. Someone in a cape pulled a rabbit out of a hat and tossed it at him. He dodged it, and barely felt the heat over his shoulder as it exploded. He was too intent on shoving the barrel of his Uzi into the man’s face and pulling the trigger. Dead. Someone came at him with a knife. Dead. A Garrote. Dead. A broadsword. Dead. Dead. Dead. Everyone dead.
Except for Knight.
“Oh my God.” Dolomite gasped, as he peeked behind the information desk.
Lo, his arms wrapped around his chest, crept next to his brother.
“What?”
“They’re running.” He turned towards Lo Mein and grinned. “We won!”
Knight, wheezing with exertion, looked around at the retreating Guild members. He shot a couple of them in the back, but the bullets were wasted as they just bounced off their skinblock. He reloaded his Uzi and said,
“Nope. Now it really begins.”
Dolomite’s mouth opened slightly, and then closed it as he saw the shadows emerge from the sides of the room.
“Warmed up?” Said a man walking out of the tunnel leading to Track 34. He wore a silver asbestos suit, and strapped to his back was a flamethrower. Behind the silver shield, there was a white glint. Knight had never met Ignition, number 8, before, but his white teeth were legendary.
“Might as well go home Ignition,” said DY-NO-MITE walking out of the opposite tunnel. He hefted a huge Gatling gun in his arms. “He’s my kill.”
“You boys and your toys.” Said a female voice behind Knight. Knight didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know that the Mesmerist, number 5, was striding up behind him. Her long legs covered in nylons under a purple skirt, her golden pocket watch in her hands. “No one can resist my charm.”
The Chemist, number 7, approached from his left. His gray eyes like plates behind his coke bottle lenses, his beer gut protruding under his lab coat. He rolled his dart gun in a pudgy hand.
“Don’t underestimate this young upstart darling. He has proven himself quite the challenge.”
“Good,” said “Handsome” Jack Hansen, number 4, walking in from the right, pulling on his electrified gloves, staring the Mesmerist down. “I need a challenge.” He winked at the hypo-assassin, “You are the looker.”
“Keep your mind on your job Jack.”
“Oh I am.”
“Is this it?” Knight sighed. “Where is—”
“Right here.” Announced a voice from above. Everyone looked up and hovering above them was a tiny man strapped in a rocket pack. He cocked the sniper rifle in his hands. “I could have killed you already,” said Eagle Eye, number 6, from the middle of the room, “but I wanted you to see the face of your killer.”
Knight smirked, and shook his head. “Not likely.”
“Cocky aren’t you?” Handsome Jack chuckled. “6 to 1 odds aren’t all that good.”
“Whateva nigga.” Knight sighed. “Look, are we waiting for anyone else?”
The killers looked at each other.
“Grace?” Ignition said.
“Killed her.” Knight said.
Mezzy raised her eyebrows. “You…really?”
“Yup.”
“Dang.”
“And our resident number 1? Blue Thunder?” The Chemist said.
“Fuck him,” DY-NO-MITE said, “Guild central said that who ever kills this faggot is number 1.”
“Looks like that’ll be me.” Eagle Eye said, raising his rifle to his eye.
“Me first.” The Chemist said, raising his blowgun to his lips.
“Wait in line.” Ignition said.
“Enough.” DY-NO-MITE said, “You niggas talk too much.” He spit on the ground and took the safety off his gun. “On three.
“One,
“Two—”
And then everyone opened fire.
“Can’t you move this shit faster?”
The pilot, grasping the stick of the helicopter with both hands, growled. He’d been tanning on the other end of Fire Island when he got paged. He knew his passenger Destro was hot shit, but who the fuck was he to pull ranks like this?
“We’re going as fast as we can.” He grunted. “You sure we can even get clearance to fly in? I mean after 9-11—”
Destro looked out the window as Manhattan loomed in the distance. “Yes!”
As long as Bryant does his job, he thought.
“Sir!” The co-pilot said, “You better hear this.” He passed his headphones to Destro, who strapped them to his head. “It’s WFBC radio!”
“…there’s been a terrorist attack at Grand Central. Reports are coming in of explosions, hundreds dead…we’re still…oh my God. It’s happened again…”
“Sir?” The pilot said, “Are you sure…”
Destro pulled the headphones off his head and slammed them to the ground. “Just fly!” He shouted.
Knight, Destro thought, what the fuck did you get into?
Four of them died almost immediately. You would have needed slow motion to see how it all happened, but lucky for you, you have me.
When DY-NO-MITE said two, The Chemist fired his blow dart at Knight. Knight caught the dart around its unpoisoned base with his free hand, dropping his Uzi, as he fell backward, just missing DY-NO-MITE’s first burst of machine gun fire. Ignition, pulled the trigger on his flamethrower, and The Chemist went up in flames, his chemical ammo exploding like a bomb. At the same time Handsome Jack sent a burst of electricity from his gloves up in the air into Eagle Eye, short-circuiting his jet pack. With a squeal, he dropped his sniper rifle as he sailed around the room like a deflating balloon. Jack smirked, and then his mouth became an O of wonder as he saw Eagle Eye sail up and then make a loop down and around towards him. He tried to duck out of the way, but he was a moment too late as Eagle Eye caught him in the chest like a rocket moving at 150 miles an hour. Jack’s skinblock absorbed some of the impact, but it wasn’t enough to keep his ribcage from slamming down on his organs, crushing them like egg shells. Most likely he was instantly dead, but in case he wasn’t, the jet pushed him into the wall of the building and then exploded into flames incinerating both men.
“Fire it up!” Ignition screamed, as he pressed closer to Knight.
Knight, feeling the heat from the Chemist’s smoldering corpse sear what little of his face was uncovered, found himself looking up Mezzy’s dress. For a moment he caught a glimpse of her panties (red), and then he found himself looking into her watch. Something was emanating out of it. Everything went dim, and he felt fatigued. He was like he was looking up at her from a dark well.
“You want to die, Knight. Die for me…”
And for a moment he did want to die. He wanted it so badly he could feel his heart. He could feel it beating so loudly and he wanted it to slow, and slow, and slow and…
FUCK THAT! He shouted in his head. With his last burst of energy he jabbed the dart he caught into her leg. For a moment it seemed as if nothing would happen, and then a single drop of blood fell out of her eye and landed on his goggles.
“What…”
She dropped her watch and stumbled backward. Blood poured out of every pore of her body, covering her from head to toe in crimson. She screamed, as every ounce of fluid streamed from her flesh like sweat. She was dead before she hit the ground.
“Holy shit!” Ignition gasped. He turned to DY-NO-MITE. “Three left.”
“You take the right!” He responded.
“Got it!”
Knight tried to jump to his feet but his legs couldn’t work. The energy the Mesmerist enervated was returning, but too slowly…
He reached out…
“You’re going to burn!” Ignition screamed, lowering the nozzle towards Knight.
…and found the watch. He slid it in front of Ignition, who glanced at it. He froze.
“You first.” Knight muttered.
Ignition’s psyche was too weak, too corrupt, too undisciplined, too un-Luke like, to resist the hypnotic energy. He popped the visor of his suit, revealing a surprisingly old visage, his wrinkles set like cuts in his darkly tanned face.
“Fine.” He said, and raised the nozzle of his flamethrower to his mouth. His teeth were like flat pieces of chalk.
“No!” DY-NO-MITE screamed.
Ignition pulled the trigger.
Dead.
Knight finally got his legs working, and he scurried away from DY-NO-MITE as the other hitman ran over to the watch, and crushed it beneath his boot. He looked up and saw Knight’s shadow behind one of the columns on the right side. He took a moment to check his ammo, and then slid a grenade off his belt. He pulled the pin off with his teeth and spat it off to the side.
“I’m sorry about your apartment man!” He said.
“I know.” Knight said from behind his cover. He searched his pockets. He had ammo for his Uzi but no Uzi. He checked his knife guns, but they were empty as well.
“Shit!” He hissed.
“You really killed Gracie?”
“Yep!” Knight called out, looking through his pockets. Keys, some change, wallet…he looked around and sighed.
Guns all over the place and nothing near me, how fucking typical.
He peeked around the column, and ducked his head back as DY-NO-MITE let off a burst with his gun.
“Too bad, I liked her.”
“She was a psycho-bitch!” Knight said. The closest gun was about ten feet from DY-NO-MITE. He had no clue if it had bullets, and he’d have to go about twenty feet just to get to it.
“That’s what I liked about her!”
“Me too.”
“We going to finish this?”
“Yep.” Knight said. He pulled the sleeves of his skinblock over his hands and then pulled his hood further over his neck.
This is going to hurt. A lot.
“Then let’s go!” DY-NO-MITE shouted and tossed the grenade towards the column just as Knight ran towards him. Later Knight would curse himself. If he had known that MITE was going to toss a grenade at him he might have caught it, and thrown it back. But all he was thinking about was that gun, and the march to get it. Still, the explosion and his quick movement was enough for him to get about ten feet before DY-NO-MITE opened fire.
The next ten feet was agony. A wall of bullets battered his body, shredding what little of his suit remained off his back. Looking like a mime, covered in nothing but his brown skinblock, shoes (lined with skinblock) and his goggles, Knight groaned as he pushed forward.
“No way.” DY-NO-MITE moaned. “No way!”
One step…another…his body was on fire, every inch a stab, every centimeter a jab of an ice pick. It was as if he was in a hurricane, pushing into the wind. He took another step…another…
Luke punched him in the face.
--Don’t go away from this Day! Embrace iit! Life is pain, it is suffering! All we can do is fight!
Another step…
Luke kicking him in the side, his kidney bruised. He’d piss blood for two days.
--You want to hate me, but don’t hate. HHate is waste. Hate will not defeat pain. Only fighting back will. Fight!
Another step…another…
“Stop!” DY-NO-MITE yelled. “STOP!”
The gun was five feet away…four…and the bullets kept coming.
Luke sitting next to him at the café...father…
--You aren’t like them Day. You are uniqque. You can do things that other people cannot. But that does not mean you are immune…
Three feet…another step…
--Like everyone else you will feel pain,, but you can fight…
--Fight…
Another step…
--Fight…
Step…
FIGHT!
The wall vanished, and there was an empty clicking noise. DY-NO-MITE looked down at his gun. It was empty.
“Unbelievable.” He sighed, dropping the gun. “Fucking unbelievable.” He looked up and found himself staring into the barrel of a gun.
“Say hi to Grace for me.” Knight said, and pulled the trigger. DY-NO-MITE’s massive form wobbled and then tumbled to the floor like a redwood. Knight walked over him and put two more rounds in his chest. Slowly, he pulled off his goggles and looked around him at the field of corpses. Last man standing. Number 1.
Slowly, carefully, and cautiously Lo Mein peeked over the top of what was left of the information desk. Following after him was Dolomite, who was cradling the old woman in his arms. The other guys huddled behind the desk ran screaming towards the exits. Knight chucked, and looked over to the lady.
“She alright?” He asked.
“She needs to get to a hospital,” Dolomite responded.
“Is it over?” Lo Mein asked. “Is it really over?”
Knight nodded. “Yeah, it—”
“Day!”
Knight swung around. Stepping out of the shadows, stumbling over corpses, Jennifer screamed out Knight’s real name again. Knight took a step towards her when he noticed a shadow behind Jennifer. He shook his head.
“You’re dead!” He screamed. “I killed you!”
Grace stepped into a beam of light that shone through one of the holes blown into the side of Grand Central. Her face was still bandaged, oozing blood in dull blotches along her cheeks, but Knight could have recognized her even if she’d had a paper bag over her head—those legs, her sharpened red fingernails, her long jet black hair, the silver plated .45 she held to Knight’s girlfriend’s back.
“Now you don’t think I would miss the main event?” She laughed. “Let’s get ready to rummmmmmmmmmmmmmblllllleeeeeeee!” She paused. “I always wanted to say that.”
8:52am
“Who’s ready for some breakfast?”
Grizzly looked towards the back of the room and found Dorothy, a rifle slung around her wide back, stretching and walking over to a tall metal cabinet on the left side of the room. She opened it and pulled out two hot plates.
“Sorry,” she said, walking over to a wood table in the back of the room, “but I wasn’t really prepared to have so many…guests.”
“It’s alright.” Grizzly sighed. “I wasn’t really prepared to be marked for death.” He looked down and watched Snatch groan and yell in his sleep. He bent over his little brother and listened.
“Ah…no…no! Posey…don’t kill ‘em…stop…”
Jesus, Grizzly thought. He really is haunted.
He shook his arm softly.
“Snatch,” he whispered, “Snatch…”
“Huh! What!” Snatch sprung into sitting position, his chest heaving.
“It’s cool, it’s cool!” Grizzly said.
“Griz…” Snatch said, in confusion, “what are… oh shit!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He looked at it and scowled. “Ah Jesus H. Christ.” He held the phone up to Grizzly so he could see the missed call message. “It was Orph.” He jumped up and hit the call button walking to the other side of the room. Grizzly watched him pace the floor and frowned.
“Grizzly?” Dorothy said. Grizzly turned around and walked over to her.
“Yeah?”
She cracked two eggs and dropped them on the skillet. They began to pop and hiss.
“Could you get the coffee ready? The machine’s in the cabinet.”
“Yeah no problem.” Grizzly said.
“Grizzly…” Dorothy laughed as she mixed some grits in the other pan. “You guys and your names.”
“Yeah,” Grizzly said sheepishly, pulling out a small Mrs. Coffee and a jar of coffee, “I know.”
“What’s your real name?”
Grizzly plugged the coffee maker into the wall. “Filters?” He asked.
“Inside already.” Dorothy said.
Grizzly popped the top and poured coffee into the machine.
“Well,” he said, “My real name is Danny. Danny Kurtado. But I prefer Grizzly. Every one calls me that.”
“You mean all the frat guys?”
Grizzly shook his head as Dorothy passed him two bottles of water. He opened one, and began to pour it in the machine.
“No I mean like everyone.”
“Your parents?”
Grizzly nodded his head. “Parents, wife, kids…I actually been thinking of legally changing it. But it wouldn’t be the same.”
Dorothy tipped the eggs into a dish, and immediately cracked two more eggs into the pan. “Don’t you think college is over?”
“It is. But Brotherhood is infinite.”
“You sound like those pamphlets you give to rushees.”
“Maybe…but…” He looked back at the coffee maker. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Ever since I was a kid, I felt like I had a bigger purpose in life. Maybe it was all the comics I’d read but…nah it wasn’t that. It was…I don’t know, like a longing, like I had this need that just wanted to bust out of my skin. When I came to DIK, that feeling, I mean it was there but felt less. Like what I was doing in the chapter was releasing that energy. It felt right. Being a DIK, who I am in DIK—that’s the real me.”
Dorothy pursed her lips, and narrowed her eyes.
“You do know DIK is trying to kill us right?”
Grizzly shook his head. “No not DIK.”
“Then who?”
Now it was Grizzly’s turned to frown, and when Grizzly frowned it was frightening.
“I don’t know…but when I find out…”
A shiver ran down Dorothy’s spine, and she adverted her eyes from Grizzly.
“Something smells good.” Chad said, sitting up.
“Morning sweetheart.” Dorothy said, blowing her husband a kiss. He mimed catching it and tossing it in his mouth. Grizzly laughed.
“That is so gay.”
On the other side of the room, Snatch gnawed on a fingernail, pulling a layer of it down to the quick as he listened to the phone ring a seventh time.
Must be asleep. He nervously thought. Just asleep, I’m sure they’re not coming after her. Snatch looked over at Grizzly who was yacking it up with their hosts. I wonder if Griz called Bilms. Isn’t he worried? Should he be worried? Should I be worried?
“James?” Said a drowsy voice from the other end of the phone.
“Orphelia! Orph!You ok?”
“Huh…yeah…where are you?”
“Ah, I’m with Griz. Had a late night out and I stayed with him.”
“Ah huh…”
Snatch shook his head. He hated moments like this, he could never tell if she believed him or not.
“So you’re cool?” He asked.
“Yeah. Sleeping.”
“Oh good.” He said, looking out the window.
“When are you coming home?” She asked.
“Soon, soon.”
“Cause we need to go to Bosco to shop, and you need to mop the floor.”
“Orph…”
“You promised.”
“I know, I know…”
“I mean I work all the time and…”
“I know! Jesus!”
“James…”
“What?”
“Are…are you sure you’re alright?”
Snatch looked at his face in the reflection of the window. He looked old. He felt old. He was old. Here he was, getting drugged, running from gunfire and exploding buildings, and his (wife? girl?) was telling him to mop the floor. He didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. Maybe he could do both.
“Just sad Orph.” Snatch said, resting his fingers on the cold hard window. “I miss you. I wish I could just crawl next to you and sleep for like a month.”
Orphelia happily moaned and Snatch could visualize her huddling her into a ball, pulling the sheets underneath her chin.
“I wish you were with me too.”
Snatch smiled and then tilted his head to the side. There was something moving in the trees. He moved his face towards the glass. Then, seeing a red flashing dot flash in the foliage, he pushed himself away from the window, and hit the off button on his phone.
“Get down!” He screamed as he threw himself to the floor.
Chad, Grizzly and Dorothy were stunned and turned towards Snatch for a moment. Dorothy’s mouth formed an O and then Chad felt something wet splash him in the face.
“Sniper!” Grizzly yelled, and pushed both Chad and Dorothy to the ground. There were more pops as items around the room were perforated with bullets. Em stood in the center of the room, watching everyone with a quizzical gaze.
“Griz!” Snatch yelled. “You all right?”
Grizzly watched as Chad pulled his wife’s corpse into his lap.
“Dorothy? Oh Dorothy…” He sobbed. Gently he wiped her blood hair out of her face revealing the dime sized bullet hole in her head.
“Shit.” Grizzly said.
Emissary looked over towards the table and saw Dorothy’s hand splayed on the floor.
“Home run?” He muttered.
Slowly, he stumbled forward as the ground outside ignited into fury. Someone from a bullhorn demanded their surrender as masses of storm troopers swarmed, forming a phalanx around him, dropping to one knee in firing position. Looming over them was a black combat helicopter, its blades blowing chunks of soil in a whirlpool around the shack. Emissary paid no attention to the spectacle outside but was drawn behind the counter like a moth to a flame. He stood over Chad shoulder and looked down into Dorothy’s dead eyes.
“Home…”
“She’s dead!” Chad screamed at Em. “Do you fucking understand dead! Huh? She died for you! She died for you!”
“Dead?” Em repeated in a low voice. He looked at Grizzly, his smooth face his closest approximation of confusion.
“Dead.” Grizzly repeated. “Terminated, eliminated, deceased, gone forever.”
Em’s mouth opened, and that strange computer sound emanated from his mouth. He stood like that for a moment. The world popping around him, Chad sobbing into his head wife’s hair, Snatch lying flat on his stomach, his hands over his head, and then Em grimaced, and swung around, balling his little hands into fists. He marched towards the door.
“Hey wait! Get down!” Grizzly yelled after him. But the alien paid not heed, walking towards the front door he circled around to face the TEP soldiers.
“Hold fire!” One of them said, and the popping stopped. For a moment the only sound you heard was the gusting of the wind and the rotors of the helicopter above. Emissary looked over the crowd scanning them back and forth and then back again. Grizzly left Chad and looked over at the window.
“Go get him.” The group’s leader said. “And then finish off the—”
Em opened his mouth and a voice sang out:
“Run for your life.”
He then looked up towards the helicopter and spat. A silver sphere that looked like a drop of mercury shot out of his mouth like a bullet and hit the front of the Helicopter. The pilots inside leaned over the dashboard and looked at the point of impact. It was untouched.
“Air 1,” came the leader’s voice. “Are you five-by-five?”
“Yeah,” the pilot replied, “undamaged…wait….”
Suddenly he felt the control stick move under his hand. He looked at his co-pilot.
“Smitty?”
The co-pilot tapped the flashing control panel.
“I’m losing control!”
Below them, Emissary raised both his arms at the elbow as he took control of the helicopter. He could feel what we would call his central nervous system sync up with the helicopter’s computer system. He cocked his thumbs up, and stuck out his pointer fingers. Suddenly he heard a voice in his head say (translated from an unknown alien computer language), “All systems online.”
The leader, whose stomach was buzzing, opened his mouth to order his troops to open fire on the alien, but it was too late. Emissary brought his thumbs down and two soldiers were cut in half by blasts from the helicopter’s twin machine gun turrets. The troops screamed and automatically began to panic. Some fired back to the helicopter and others simply ran.
“No! No! Not the chopper! The target! Shoot at the erk!” His voice was cut off as his torso was cut off from his legs.
Emissary opened his mouth and some type of heavy metal music screamed out of it.
“I cannot live! I cannot die! Trapped in myself! Find my only death!”
Snatch, who stood next to Grizzly at the window, clapped his hands over his ears as he watched the massacre outside. Directing the helicopter with his hands like some kind of conductor, Emissary orchestrated the TEP’s death, raining bullets around them in a storm of fury. When some sought refuge behind objects the helicopter either destroyed them with rockets or flanked them and continued its machine gun barrage. Finally, he raised both his hands in the air and brought them down. The helicopter fell straight to the earth and exploded in a ball of fire. The music died and Emissary marched back inside.
“Oh my God.” Snatch said as he watched the little alien face them. “What the fuck?”
Emissary looked back at them, his lips a thin horizontal slice on his face.
“What’s going on?” Snatch screamed.
“Who are you really?” Grizzly asked.
“What do you want?”
“Why did you kill them all?”
“Who…?”
“How…?”
“Where…?”
“When…?
Emissary reached out and grabbed their arms. They didn’t feel anything but they could feel something wet and smooth ooze from his hands that was absorbed into their skin. Suddenly they couldn’t move. Then they went blind and deaf.
Then Emissary answered their questions.
9:16 am
“Let her go.” Knight said.
“No.” Grace said.
“Day?” Jennifer sobbed.
“It’s going to be ok.”
Dolomite slowly reached under the desk. His hand found the butt of his shotgun.
“No it’s not.” Grace grunted. “You blew up my car. Look what you did to my face!”
“I didn’t notice.” Knight chucked.
Grace cocked back the hammer on her .45. “Don’t be smart.”
Dolomite began to raise his arm.
“And tell yo boy to drop the shotty.”
“Dol…” Knight grunted holding up an arm. Dolomite snarled and dropped the gun.
Lo Mein finally raised his head and looked around the room. He froze when he noticed what was across from them and tapped Dolomite on the shoulder.
“Dol…look.”
Dolomite turned.
“What the fuck…?”
Across the room, in a dark corner stood Douchbag, in the exact same position he’d been in when the attack first started. There were holes in his clothes but no blood.
“I don’t think that’s Douchy.” Dolomite said.
“Listen,” Knight said, “this is stupid. We have to get outta here before the cops come.”
“Oh,” Grace laughed, “we have some time. They won’t rush in for at least another ten minutes and by that time you’ll be dead.”
“Not likely. I mean have you looked around.”
Grace glanced at the bodies piled on the ground. “Whatever. You still haven’t gone through me.”
“What do you want Grace? You want your shot?”
“Oh I’m going to get my shot. But first I want you to tell your girl what a bullshit artist you are.”
Knight looked at Jenn, who was sobbing.
“Come on…”
“Day? Did you really…you killed all these people?”
“They were really bad people.” Knight said.
“They were your co-workers!” Grace laughed. “Go on, tell her what you do! Go on!”
“Day…?”
“Fuck you Grace.” Knight said.
“Why don’t you tell her who you really love?”
“I love her.”
“NO! NO! NO! NO! You love me, you always loved me!”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
“You’re such a liar!”
“And you’re a crazy psycho bitch. I never loved you. Who could love you? You have to know how to love to get love, but all you ever loved was you and being number one.”
“So do you! That’s what makes us the same!”
Knight shook his head and laughed. “Nah uh. You see, you talk about it, and…” He waved around the room. “And I’m ‘bout it. Me and you alike? Not hardly. You’re a hack, and I’m the genuine article. Accept no substitutes.”
“Liar!”
Knight waved her forward, pushing her on. “Come on then. Stop hiding behind my girl like a fucking coward.” He looked at his skinblocked covered body. “Oh you worried cause I’m wearing block and you’re not? Here—” He pulled off the top of his suit and pulled it over his head revealing his bare chest. The he opened up his hands and exposed he empty hands. “See I have only my hands, that’s all I need to kill you.”
Grace bit what was left of her lips.
“Oh Gracie…I’m so cowed by your superior skill”
“Fuck you!”
She brought the gun from behind Jennifer’s back and licked off four shots, running towards Knight. He ducked to the left and then rolled back. One of the rounds went off the side of left arm.
Slow old man.
Still, she was so wrathful she was mostly firing wild, and when it was empty she tossed it away. She didn’t want to shoot him; she wanted to rip him apart. She wanted to sink her sharpened nails into his soft brown eyes and tear them out. And then she’d eat his heart.
“Come on bitch!” Knight yelled.
With a scream Grace jumped into the air, arms stretched out in front of her. Knight bent over looking to toss her over his back. But she caught him around his waist, raking his stomach with her fingernails and then pulled him down after her. The wrestled on the ground like animals, rabbit punching, clawing at one another. Then Grace caught Knight with an elbow in the kidney that made him scream in pain. She jumped up and kicked him in the temple. The world blinked and luckily he bit his tongue. The pain kept him from completely passing out. Grace spit and then reached into her pocket and pulled out a butterfly knife. She snapped it open with a deft wrist movement.
“I’m going to gut you!”
She brought the knife down as she fell to her knees. Knight caught her wrist stopping the blade micro-inches above his chest. They grunted. Grace brought her other hand down to the butt of the knife to get leverage. The knife began to sink in.
“I am the best!” Grace screamed.
“No…” Knight muttered. He could feel the blade sink into his flesh, his blood pouring over his chest. He would never know for sure if what he did next was a tactical move or the final wish of a dying man, but Grace never saw it coming.
Knight reached up and grabbed her boob. It was real, and amazing.
Grace squealed, and instinctively she brought a hand to knock his off, and Knight took the moment to pull the blade out and flip her around. As they landed Knight twisted her wrist over, breaking it, and the blade slipped into Grace right between the ribs. She shuttered, her mouth becoming an O of surprise.
“Grace?” Knight said, lying on top of her. He looked down and saw her fatal wound. She had only moments as her innards would drown in its own blood. “Ah shit.”
“Kn…Kn…”
“Shush, shush. I’m here.”
“You…you…grab…t-tit…”
Knight nodded and sadly smiled.
“I always wanted to.” He whispered.
“…K-k-kiss me…”
Lost in the moment, Knight lowered his lips towards her and then at the last moment he froze, and moved back.
“You poisoned your lips didn’t you?”
Grace chuckled, and a blood bubble popped in her mouth, flecking her cheeks with gore.
“You are one crazy bitch Gracie.”
“L…lo…”
“What is it?”
“L-love m-me…love me…”
Knight chuckled, and whispered. “You know how I do.” He nodded and kissed her on the forehead. When he pulled back he found her eyes glazed, her soul gone. He closed her eyes and then stood up.
“Day?”
He turned to Jennifer and staggered over to her.
“Jenn!”
They embraced and kissed. Then she slapped him.
“How could you—”
“Marry me.”
Jenn froze. Knight smiled.
“Figured that would shut you up.”
“You—”
“I am serious. Marry me.”
“Really?”
“If you want a hit man as a husband…well a retired hit man.”
“Hey guys!” Dolomite yelled. “You need to see this!”
Knight and Jenn turned around and found in a corner of the room…a thing that looked like Douchbag limp over to them. Stepping into a beam of light its face was revealed and Jennifer gasped. One side of it face was a ruined bloodless mess, pink fleshy looking gunk spread over a metal frame.
“It’s a robot!” Lo Mein screamed.
“What a fuck!” Dolomite shouted.
The robot opened its mouth.
“Four Thirty. Four Twenty Nine. Four Twenty Eight.”
“Guys…” Knight said. “I think we need to get the fuck outta here.”
“Yeah.” Dolomite said, and then paused. “Wait!” He looked down and saw the old lady still passed out on the ground. He turned to Lo Mein. “Hold on.” He hefted her into a fireman carry and stumbled after them.
“Whata hero.” Knight grumbled.
“Four Twenty five.”
The group marched across the room. First they looked towards one of the main entrances, and saw a police barricade with about every police officer in the city outside.
“Not that way.” Knight said. “We’ll get out through the tunnels. Let’s move.”
They ran back the other way and followed Knight down stairs into the Metro North tunnels. The platform seemed to go on forever.
“Come on!” Knight yelled. He began to take off and then he heard the cocking of a pistol.
“Freeze!”
The group stopped and found Winter and Erection walking down the center of the tunnel behind them. Winter’s .357 was aimed directly at Knight. Erection had his pistol out, but he held it down.
“This day is just never going to end is it?” Lo Mein groaned.
“Hands up!” Winter said.
“Erection!” Dolomite said, with a grin. “Holy shit!”
Dolomite took a step towards them and found himself staring down Winter’s gun. He turned back to Erection with a look of confusion on his face.
“’Reck?”
Erection and Winter jumped on the platform.
“’Reck?” Dolomite repeated. Erection looked at him and then turned to Knight, and then back again. His face was clearly torn by his loyalties. Winter wasn’t. He walked up to Knight and placed the barrel of his gun against the DIK’s head.
Erection took a deep breath. “Don’t worry, we’re going to take you in and settle it all there.”
“Erection,” Lo Mein said, his voice low, “Knight saved us.”
“Yeah!” Dolomite said. “DIK National put a hit on us; Knight’s only been trying to keep us alive.”
“What?” Erection said. He stared at Knight who was staring into Winter’s blue eyes. He smiled.
“Blue Thunder I assume?”
“What?” Erection said.
“Don’t believe a word this killer says!” Winter said.
“Don’t believe a word this killer says!” Knight yelled. “He’s the number one assassin in the world.”
“Him?” Lo Mein grunted, side stepping behind Erection. “But he’s old.”
Winter pursed his lips and cocked back the hammer of his gun.
“Nice duel heaters.” Knight said, his eyes focused on Erection. “Twin heaters.”
“The cross?” Dolomite said.
“Yup.”
“Wint?”
“Oh Freddy! You really going to believe what he tells you? The man is a murderer like twelve hundred times over!”
He’s also my brother. Erection thought.
“Well isn’t this the pot calling the kettle a nigger?” Knight said.
“Shut up!” Winter said.
“He’s not going to take us in you know?” Knight said. “He’s going to kill me right here, and then my girl and then Lo and Dol and then you. Or maybe he’ll come after you first.”
“Liar!”
“First rule of assassination, leave no witnesses.”
“I’m not killing you Fred, you’re my partner.”
“Just cuff him Winter,” Erection said, his gun hovering between Knight and his partner. “We can settle this downtown.”
“Ah huh.” Winter said, his tongue wetting his lips. “He’s dead, and moreover, you’re going to help me.”
“Wint—”
“He killed your woman Freddy.”
Knight lowered his eyes just as Erection turned up and stared at him. First there was confusion, then recognition and then anger. He raised his gun towards Knight.
“You fuck.” Knight hissed.
“K-Knight?”
“It was a long time ago—”
“Knight!”
They looked at each other.
“I’m sorry ‘Reck.”
“You—you killed her. Oh my God.”
“I didn’t know who you were then. If I had of I would have never done it. I swear to God.”
“You can’t trust him Fred,” Winter said.
“Neither can you.” Dolomite muttered.
“Wha?” Winter grunted.
“Erection,” Dolomite said, “I don’t know what’s going on here and who killed who—and there’s been a lot of fucking killing going on—but think of it. How does he know Knight killed your girl? How?”
Erection lowered his gun some and turned to his partner. “Wint?”
Winter took a deep breath, and in one smooth movement he drew his other gun and pointed it at Erection.
“Ah boyo, I sure didn’t want it to be this way.”
“Wint?”
A soft robotic voice in the distance said, “Two forty six…Two forty five…”
“I just wanted to be a cop, but then I came across this guy, like ten years ago. Thought it was a simple homicide but it was a hit. As I was driving him back to the station he told me how I could make more money. Lots of money. Just by killing some bad people. He became my mentor. And then, once I got my card, I killed him. It was perfect Fred. I was good at it. And with the shield no one suspected me. I could get in anywhere. I didn’t even need all these homos’ fancy gadgets, just me and my gun.”
“Blue Thunder.” Knight said. “Blue, like a cop.”
Winter nodded.
“You killed Lou didn’t you?” Erection said. Winter nodded.
“He figured it out. He was going to bring me in. You believe that boyo? Me? The number one assassin in the world going to be tried like a fucking citizen? Get outta town.”
“Drop the gun Winter.” Erection said. He moved to raise his gun, but Winter cocked his other pistol and jerked it towards Erection’s head.
“Don’t do it. I can kill you before you bat an eyelid and I don’t even have to look at you.”
“He’s going to kill us anyway.” Jen said.
“Yeah,” Knight said.
Suddenly there was another gun cocking. Winter was frozen but Knight looked over his assailant’s shoulder and found Lo Mein standing on the track below, pointing the gun he’d been given before at the back of Winter’s head.
“D-d-d-drop the g-g-gun.” Lo Mein said.
Winter smiled. “Is it the Chinaman?”
Knight nodded. “Can’t kill him and us buddy. And if you move to kill him, either ‘Reck or I will be up your ass before you move.”
Winter said, “Put the gun down kid. You’re not a killer.”
“P-p-p…”
“You p-p-put the gun down.” Winter laughed. “Some guys have the stones for this and some don’t. You are in that don’t category. So just—”
His words were cut off by a bullet in the back of his head. Blood and brain matter sprayed in Knight’s face and he prayed that the guy didn’t have some disease. Winter dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
“Two ten. Two nine.”
For a moment everyone was frozen except for Knight who dropped down and scooped up one of Winter’s guns. He pointed it at Erection.
“Now, let’s just relax.”
“Guys!” Lo Mein sobbed, letting the gun drop from his hand. “Please! I’m begging you! Can we please stop killing!”
Dolomite shrugged his shoulders trying to get the lady into a more comfortable position. “That thing is going to go off any moment now!”
“You killed Lizzy.” Erection said.
“I know.” Knight said. “And I know you want revenge. I’ll give you your chance. When you want me I’ll be there. But we can’t do this now. This is bigger than us. Something is going down and we’re going to be needed.”
“”Reck,” Dolomite said. “I need you to get this woman outta here.”
Erection kept his gun pointed at Knight, he wanted to pull the trigger so badly…
“’Reck! Dammit you’re a cop! You have to save her!”
That snapped Erection back to attention. He was a police officer. He swore a duty to protect and serve.
“I’m going to put my gun away Knight.”
“So am I. Really slowly.”
Their eyes locked on each other they placed their guns on the ground. Then Erection gently took the woman off Dolomite’s back and placed it on his own.
“Oh shit.” Lo Mein muttered.
“What?” Dolomite said.
“The papers! We left them upstairs!”
“Fuck!”
Knight pointed to Erection. “Get Jen and that woman outta here!”
“Where are you going?” Erection asked.
“To save the world. Again.” Knight said. He turned to Jen and quickly, before she could advert her head, kissed her on the lips.
“I do love you.”
“I know.” She said.
“Come on!” Dolomite yelled, racing towards the stairs. Lo Mein jumped back on the platform and took off after his brother. Knight paused one moment to look at his girl and then his eyes found Erection.
“We will finish this.” He said.
Knight nodded and then took off after the rest of the guys.
“One thirty six…one thirty five…”
Dolomite ran up the stairs and nearly tripped over a body. He looked down to find a headless corpse and he nearly vomited.
Just don’t look down. He thought. Shit, I have to look down.
“Where is it?” Lo Mein screamed.
“I don’t know!” Dolomite screamed back.
“Spread out!” Knight yelled behind him. “We have about a minute!”
“One twenty four…one twenty three…”
The brothers ran all over the room, jumping over dead bodies, their hands reaching for anything that looked like a silver briefcase.
“Why didn’t we leave this shit in the car?” Dolomite said.
“’Cause we didn’t think it was a set-up!” Lo Mein yelled.
“Don’t you believe it.” Knight grunted.
“Fifty nine…fifty eight…”
“Stop!” Knight yelled. “Stop!” The guys froze. “You guys get outta here, I’ll stay.”
“No way!” Lo Mein said. “We started this together, we’ll finish it!”
“We’re not going to get outta here!”
“And if we don’t get this shit then everything would have been for nothing.”
“Jesus Christ!” Dolomite yelled. “We need to think—think! Where would we…” He turned around the room and his eye caught the ruins of the information desk. He groaned. “The desk!”
“Fuck!” Knight yelled.
From three different sections of the room the brothers raced to the desk, jumping over bodies like racehorses. They ran behind it and Knight kicked over the body of one of the Cowboy brothers exposing the briefcase. He picked it up.
“Got it!”
“Forty nine…thirteen…twelve…”
“What the fuck?” Dolomite yelled.
“He cheated!” Lo Mein yelled, and he looked at Knight. “He…”
“Oh shit.” He looked around and saw no outs. “We’re dead.”
And then the skylight above crashed as Destro, holding onto a metal ladder, jumped down, silver guns drawn.
“Knight!” He yelled
“Holy shit!” Lo Mein yelled.
“Am I late?” Destro asked.
“Ten…nine…”
“Nah nigga.” Knight said, racing towards Destro. “Right on time.”
The DIKs sprinted over to the ladder, and Knight and Destro helped Lo Mein and Dolomite onto the ladder. Then Destro pushed Knight up and grabbed the lower run as he screamed into his ear piece for the pilot to take off.
“Three…Two…One…
“Go fuck yourself.”
The robot blew up, and waves of fire consumed everything. Destro screamed as the world beneath him exploded, and he could feel the heat melt the sole of his shoes as the helicopter gained altitude.
“Move faster!” He screamed.
The sound was deafening. The crowd outside, some ten people deep, set around the police barricades, screamed in terror as flames burst out of every hole in Grand Central like bunson burners. Some news cameras noticed the helicopter fly away, but the camera operators, torn between which shot to take, ultimately turned to the explosion, and the figures on the ladder, unmagnified, remained four little dots on a string, flying east.
What Grizzly saw:
Zombies shimmering in silver. Women screaming. Buildings on fire. Brother Gidget standing against a field of missiles. Brother C Chord rocking out. Beware of the month of June. Costs will be large. A world on fire. Stars. Stars. Stars. The black man. Hell at the end of the universe. Traitor. Traitors. Power. Glory. Sacrifice, no choice at all. Son, mad son. Nemesis. The space armada, more sacrifice. Redemption. Old friends who are new. Never go home again. Back to the beginning.
What Snatch saw:
Death. Destruction. Wife lost. Wife hope, only chance is change. Writing. Must do better. Falling. The shadow. Power, too much power. The dynamo. Stars. Stars. Stars. An invasion. The world split. A brother gone rogue. Crown me the king of pain. Cruelty. Barbarism. Murder. Blackness. Fear death by Teeth. Return, sacrifice. Desire. Desire. Desire.
“…guys? Guys? Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.”
Snatch blinked his eyes and found himself lying on the ground, breathing in short gasps, his heart racing. Looking down on him was Chad and Emissary. Chad’s face was full of worry, but Emissary looked grim and determined.
“Snatch?” Chad said.
“W-w-water…” Snatch said.
Chad passed him a bottle and he took a long drink. Grizzly, also panting, reached towards the bottle and Snatch passed it to him. Then he rubbed his face.
“What a fucking trip.” He sadly moaned. “What a fucking trip.”
“What…what did you see?” Chad asked.
Grizzly looked up at him.
“A beginning.” He said. Snatch shook his head.
“No,” he said, looking at Grizzly, “not a beginning.” He turned to Emissary and frowned.
“The end.”
-Epilogue-
-11:43pm-
Billy Barnes looked out over the club from a leather sofa in the VIP section. He took a drag of his cigarette and poured himself a glass of champagne. He downed it and then started drinking directly from the bottle. He groaned, wiped his mouth, and sat the bottle between his legs. He thought coming out tonight would cheer him up, maybe make him feel a little better, but it didn’t. He’d spoken to the heads of the Guild and they were as confused as he was. There were still about 50 members still alive, who’d either escaped from the Killzone, or had been too late to get there, with another 100 foreign members who had been overseas. But that was nothing. Knight has decimated them. He’d killed off the best in the world and still lived.
A shiver ran down Billy’s spine.
What the fuck am I going to do? Should I have ran? He shook his head. Of course not. Even alive he is still a hunted man. Every law enforcement agency in the world would be looking for him, not counting the rest of the Guild. He’d be a fool to come after me.
Besides, he thought, I have twenty body guards here, in the middle of a busy club, watching my back. No way he—
He looked to the left. The strobe lights above, zooming around air like wasps, illuminated that corner of the room. There had been a guard standing there a moment ago…
His hands trembling, he reached down and tried to pick up his bottle of champagne. He couldn’t get it to his lips. The strobe lights lit him up for a moment. Sitting next to him, a knife soaked with blood in his hand, was Knight Rider.
“Hey Billy.”
The strobe light moved, and they were in darkness again. There was a wet splat.
When the lights hit the sofa again it found Knight wiping his blade on Billy’s pants, as Billy held his hands over his slit throat. Knight carefully picked up the bottle of champagne from between Billy’s legs and then pushed him off the couch. He chuckled and looked over the club. The crowd didn’t notice a thing as they gleefully danced the night away. He raised the bottle towards them and took a long deep gulp, savoring its sweet taste.