Sundown- Chapter 2

Washed up on the shores of god-knows-where, Teru was fading in and out of consciousness. Kicking his feet throughout the night with very little food in his stomach, all Teru was feeling was a combination of the hot sun showering him with warmth as well as the sand blanketing his wet body. The warmth was inviting and pleasant, so Teru was again poised to black out. However, he lost consciousness after a silhouette of a man stood over him…

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Again, Teru awoke with the faintest clue of his surroundings. He tried sitting up on the bed, but a man wearing a black glove on his right hand, a tan coat, and the reddest, most tousled hair placed his hand against Teru’s chest.

“Lie still, buddy. We don’t want you fading out again, now do we?”

Teru took the man’s advice and lied back down on the bed. The bed was made of wicker and made up with handsomely stitched wool blankets. The house was actually a beachside shack, so everything was furnished with the most brilliant woodwork.

“Excuse me sir, but could you tell me exactly where I am?”

The man turned to face Teru, holding two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. “You’re located in Cape Aubrey, down south in the state of Solis Minor.”

Teru took the glass of alcohol handed to him, and threw it back in one gulp. “So who are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

The red-haired man swallowed the whiskey and refilled the glasses. “I am Jin Kobayashi, good sir.” Jin handed Teru back his glass, filled to the top with the copper liquid.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Teru took the glass with his left hand while he outstretched his right to shake the man’s hand.

“Well, that’s very flattering coming from someone with a bad-ass reputation like yourself, Teru Murasame.” Jin swiftly inhaled the whiskey in his glass, then set it down in the nearby bureau.

“You know who I am, huh?”

“Dude, who hasn’t heard of you? I mean, come on.”

Teru just shrugged and tossed back his whiskey. He placed the glass next to Jin’s on the bureau.

“So how did a gun-toting, son-of-a-bitch like you end up here? I figured you were up near New Trinity, getting a stay of execution or something like that?”

Teru chuckled. “Well, the Army was more focused on making sure those ‘things’ didn’t make it onto one of the freighters. As long as the magic wand flashed green, no one gave a fuck.”

“Yeah, I understand. The Navy put up a blockade around here so we wouldn’t get infested- fat chance the greedy one-percenters give two shits about us coasties. It’s not too tight, but for the past few weeks all you could see or hear were fucking jets on patrol.” Jin reached for the whiskey and poured more into the glasses.

“Yeah, thanks.” Teru took the glass and tossed it back once more. “Can I ask you something?”

Jin placed his empty glass back on the bureau. “Yeah, sure?”

“If you’re Jin Kobayashi, aren’t you supposed to have an arm made of metal or some shit?”

Jin belted out a jaunty roar. “I thought you would never ask!”

Teru watched as Jin removed the glove, and then his jacket. Indeed it was a metal arm! The entire right arm, from the shoulder to the fingers, was cast from a special metal called “mnemic epidermium alloy”. Teru remembers learning of this special alloy at school as well as hearing it on the news. The alloy was sculpted and fitted to the person’s endoskeletal structure. This was the limb replacement for those who couldn’t afford the expensive “genetic reconstruction”; where doctors would analyze the genes and DNA, and use the data to reconstruct the limb to the cells of your body. In short, genetic reconstruction would make it look like nothing ever happened to make you lose the limb in the first place.

Jin outstretched the arm in Teru’s direction. “Go ahead. You know you want to.”

Teru felt the soft, metallic “skin” of the arm. He ran a finger down the biceps and triceps of the arm to the “knuckles” on the hand. Teru was amazed at how the arm actually resembled that of a regular human arm. Teru would’ve easily been fooled.

“It’s the damndest thing, you know? How some freak occurrence, some rude shock, something unfathomable happens to you, and you think you’ll never be the same. As Fate and the gods would eventually have it, you’re not. You become stronger, more focused, more adept at survival. You become reborn, and people either respect you or fear you. You know what I mean?”

All Teru could think about when Jin asked him that question was his sister Lyra. After the Haifa brothers killed her that night, Teru died with her. Of course, the Haifa gang wasn’t the first time he killed people, but it was the one time when he got in touch with his fighting spirit. As he hunted Haifa’s gang of thugs, Teru noticed he became more unrelenting, more vicious, more feral. As he reflected on his body count, Teru nodded. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”

“Anyway, I’ll bet you’re starving. Usually blacking out makes people hungry. I’ll buy.”

“Yeah, I guess I could eat. Thanks a lot.”

Jin took the bottle and glasses away while Teru stood up from the bed and stretched. As he moved about, Teru noticed his gun belt was missing. He looked underneath the bed and in the drawers of the bureau before Jin reappeared with two belts in his hand.

“I think you might be looking for these.”

Teru took back the belt and strapped on his pistols. Jin did the same with his piece: a .44 magnum revolver. They both checked their ammo supply and loaded up, just in case they- or Teru- got into trouble…

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“So that’s the infamous Jin Kobayashi.”

A scope affixed to an SKS rifle showed a red-haired male with a pewter-grey arm slinging on a light brown coat. He stood in the doorway of his minimalist dwelling fidgeting with the hammer on his pistol.

“Yeah, that be him Boone. That be Kobayashi. That’s the bastard who took it all.”

Through the crosshairs, Jin finally stepped out of the doorway. Accompanying him was a shorter male with semi-long brown hair, wearing a black coat.

“Hey Vlad, who this be?”

“Who what be?”

“This guy here, who I’m looking at. Who is he? Looks kinda familiar?”

The rifleman, with blue-green eyes and sporting a skull cap, passed the weapon over to a scruffy biker-looking man with long salt-and-pepper hair and beard. Through the rifle’s scope, he saw the brown-haired kid walking alongside Jin Kobayashi.

“Holy shit, Boone. You ain’t gonna believe this, now!”

“Believe what now? Who was that other guy?”

Vlad, the biker look-alike, smacked his partner Boone upside the head. Vlad smacked him well enough to reveal Boone’s balding head hidden beneath the cap.

“Hey, whatcha do that for?”

“I did that because you’re a fucking idiot. That kid was the one we saw on all those news broadcasts. That’s the kid who wiped out Haifa’s gang.”

“Wait a minute, Vlad. If that’s who I think it is, then what the hell’s he doing out here? He’s supposed to be served up as lunch to those freakin’ Nightstalkers.”

“I don’t know for sure, Boone. However, it doesn’t matter how he got here. The fact of the matter is that he’s here, and we got ourselves a two-for-one deal.”

Boone placed the cap back on his head. “Aw man, I guess you wanna fight him, huh?”

“Trust me, the others are gonna love to hear about this. We collect the bounties off of Kobayashi and Teru Murasame, then we’ll be on easy street. Pack up your shit, and let’s get outta here.”

Boone grabbed the rifle and followed Vlad off of the stone levee jutting out into the ocean. Unloading the rifle and placing the accessories in the case, Boone sat shotgun to Vlad as their black pickup truck peeled out on the asphalt and headed back home…

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“So this is the so-called ‘city’ portion. It ain’t much, but I kinda like it. Looks like something out of an old movie.”

Indeed it did, as Teru took in the intricacies of this town. As Teru looked around, he flashed back to the old movies he and his dad used to watch. As he looked at the craftsmanship of the old town, he couldn’t help but imagine a group of guys wearing 10-gallon hats shooting at each other with antique six-guns. Teru did nothing except chuckle to himself at the memories.

One thing that seemed a bit misplaced to Teru was about a mile away from where they were. Something dangling and flowing in the breeze caught Teru’s eye, and he tried to make out what it was. He tried squinting, but no dice.

“I’m lucky that I didn’t succumb to that fate. Being tied around the neck with garrote wire, just dangling there for days upon days. People just watching you strangle and begin to tear, then they get treated to watching the gory separation of head and body. It’s horribly painful.”

Teru had to wait until his eyes adjusted to see the corroborating evidence in Jin’s story: Those were the severed heads still tied to the garrote wires, swaying from the gallows in the breeze.

“Anyway, up there is the tavern. Sirrah Murtchison makes the best damn brisquet on the face of the planet. You, my friend, are gonna enjoy this.”

Teru followed Jin to the replica tavern, swinging wooden doors and all. They made their way up to the bar, helmed by a middle-aged man wearing an eyepatch over his left eye. As he stared at the two patrons approaching him, his one good eye held a gaze of resentment- particularly towards Jin.

“Good afternoon, Sir,” Jin said as he sat down at one of the stools.

“What do you want, Kobayashi?” The hostility presented by the barkeeper was immediately picked up by the two.

“Whoa, Sirrah. I ain’t here to cause any trouble. My buddy and I are hungry and I told him about your famous brisquet, that’s all. We’re just hungry.”

The barkeeper looked at Jin, then shifted his gaze over to Teru, who definitely looked familiar. He broke eye contact, reached under the bar, and grabbed two ice-cold bottles of beer. “The food might be a while. It takes a shitton of time to fire up that grill.”

Jin and Teru simply nodded as they twisted off the tops to their beers and threw back a gulp. “Hey Jin, what’s your story with the barkeep?”

“Two simple words, my friend: Property damage.”

Teru nodded. “Duly noted.”

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The truck carrying Vlad and Boone skidded to a halt at an old, run-down tavern on the other side of town. The tavern was so old and not-well taken care of; the paint was old and chipping, one of the swinging doors was lop-sided, and a few buckets were scattered around in case it rained.

Vlad and Boone stormed through the one good door and strolled right on up to the barkeeper, who was beginning to sweat bullets.

“C-Can I help you two with something?”

Vlad immediately reached behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of beer. “We need to speak with the boss.”

“Uh, yeah, sure Mr. Vlad. He’s upstairs.”

Vlad took the beer and made his way up the rickety staircase. Boone followed suit, after also procuring a bottle for himself. Vlad and Boone hustled their way up, but used caution as the railing was dangerously loose. Vlad and Boone both muttered curses about the stairs as they walked down the hallway. As the stretch of hallway ended, they walked through the door on the left.

A lanky male with longish blond hair stood in front of a large, regal black desk. He had a scar running diagonally from the upper left side of his face down to the lower right side. His piercing blue eyes stared right at the two, and he held a grimace as Boone closed the door.

“How many times do I have to tell you fuckwits that I don’t appreciate it when you just barge in.”

“I apologize, sir.” Vlad and Boone bowed to the blond individual wearing ‘40s Wehrmacht-style garb. “We have some news.”

“It better be good news, as in Kobayashi is taken care of.”

Boone stepped forward. “Well sir, that’s what we wanted to talk to you about.”

Ritzuko quickly pulled out an Uzi he hid behind the desk and pointed it at the two. “The next words out of your mouth better be ‘yes sir, Kobayashi is dead’, because anything else will be your fucking epitaph!”

Boone was taken off guard when Renzo drew his gun, so the trepidation brought about prevented him from any further speech, so Vlad had to intervene before any rounds were expended.

“Sir, we didn’t kill Kobayashi because Teru Murasame is here. I figured we would get more shooters and attack them that way.”

Ritzuko still carried a blank stare, but behind his blue eyes held the gaze of ambition. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity before he lowered the Uzi. “Teru Murasame is here in this town?”

Boone finally regained his speech. “Yes sir, I saw him as he left Kobayashi’s place.”

“How did Teru Murasame escape New Trinity?”

“I don’t know sir, but the fact of the matter is that he’s here. Boone and I figured you would enjoy a two-for-one special.”

Ritzuko wore the blank stare again, thinking deep down about the possibilities of parading through town with the heads of both Teru Murasame and Jin Kobayashi. His face evolved into a devilish smirk as he lusted over spilling their blood.

Boone and Vlad looked at each other, wondering what sick thoughts were going through his mind. Then again, they didn’t want to know.

“Tonight is when we’ll hit Murasame and Kobayashi. I say tonight because it takes a while to bring in our best from out of town, but they will be here. One more thing I must ask of you, gentlemen, is do NOT aim for the head. I want them pristine, for my collection.”

Ritzuko was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone on his desk. He reached over and picked it up. “Hello?”

A stern voice was on the other line. “It’s me.”

“What do you want?”

“Kobayashi is here.”

“Oh really? Thanks for the tip.”

“There’s something else.”

“Do tell.”

“He brought a guest. I think he might be that kid gunslinger on the news.”

“Mmhm, that it might be. Don’t let them out of sight, eh?”

“Will do.”

Ritzuko hung up the phone and sat down at his desk. “You cocksuckers take the bikes and get out of my office now! I have some important calls to make.” As he watched them hustle out of the room, he shuffled through the contacts on his phone, with the same blank stare on his face. Behind that blank stare held his deep-seated ambitious bloodlust. He wanted blood, and he’d go as far as killing his own men to satisfy his monster thirst…

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The barkeeper returned with two big, steaming plates of food for his two guests. As he served them, he kept the same look of contempt as he did when they first walked in. As they ate, as he replenished their alcohol intake, that same look was on his face. After replacing the empty bottles with fresh ones, he walked away to a corner stall where he had the phone.

He reached down under the stall where he kept his personal phone book. He quickly skimmed through the pages until he found was he was looking for. He picked up the phone and punched in the number. The phone seemed to ring forever until the voice of a twenty-something year old was on the other line.

“Hello?”

The barkeeper cleared his throat, then said in his stern voice: “It’s me.”

“What do you want?”

“Kobayashi’s here.” As he said those words, one thought came into his mind:

Now I got you, you son of a bitch…

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“Now didn’t I tell you he cooked up a good brisquet?”

Teru nodded as he shoveled another forkful of meat and mashed potatoes into his mouth. He hadn’t had cooking like this ever since his family was killed by the Haifas. His mom always prepared a home-cooked meal every night, with the biggest meal being on Sundays.

Jin just stared as Teru was basically inhaling what was once a full plate of beef brisquet, mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, and corn bread. He shook his head in disbelief as he returned to eating his plate.

Teru dropped the fork onto the empty plate as he reached for his beer to wash it all down. After he took a massive gulp, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Well, I think you might’ve enjoyed that.” Jin joked as he was also finished eating.

“Oh yeah, I really did. Thanks for that, Jin.”

Jin cocked a smile as he reached for his beer. “Hey, we so-called ‘cold-blooded killers’ gotta look out for each other.”

Teru bore a smile as he finished off his beer. As he finished, the rumbling of motorcycle engines followed by a heavy slam drew the attention of the patrons. From experience, Teru didn’t need to be a genius to figure that shit was about to hit the fan. Same went for Jin, as he was rather reluctant to turn around also.

“No warm welcome, Kobayashi?” Boone spoke that sarcastic remark in a snarling manner.

“No Boone, not for someone’s personal bitch!”

Boone growled as he tried to charge forward, but was stopped by Vlad. “Maybe you should say that to my face, shitheel!”

With that being said, Jin turned around and faced those two miscreants. “Oh my Boone, don’t you look adorable when you’re angry. The fire’s in your eyes. Your teeth are bearing down something fierce. Hell, even your fists are clenched to the point of arthritis. Unfortunately, in all of your dealings with me up to this point, you haven’t had any place to put it except on yourself.”

“Between you and Boone, you have your unsettled business. I, on the other hand, request a challenge from your guest. I already know it’s you, Murasame. No sense in hiding in plain sight any longer.”

Teru got up from the bar and stood face-to-face with Vlad. “It was only a matter of time, I suppose.”

“I saw you,” Boone said. “I saw you through my rifle scope. I saw you both.”

“Hold on a sec, lovebirds. Something doesn’t add up.” Jin immediately jumped back into the conversation. “If you had a rifle, then why the hell didn’t you just bump us off then? Don’t get me wrong, you couldn’t shoot the dick off an elephant. I was just trying to clarify.”

“We were about to do just that, Mister Kobayashi,” Vlad interjected, “however as soon as we saw Murasame waltz out of your place, we knew it was necessary to have this face-to-face meeting.”

“If you’re itching for a fight sir,” Teru replied, “you’re making a fatal mistake.”

“Oh, am I now?”

Teru opted to go straight for his poker face instead of making another sarcastic comeback. He knew that talk was cheap, so stood there waiting for Vlad to make a mistake. However, Vlad was no slouch, either. Sick of waiting any longer, Teru immediately grabbed for his pistols. Vlad hesitated on his draw, as his gun was barely out of the holster before Teru put two rounds in his chest.

Boone was taken off-guard by Teru’s quick-draw, so he seized the opportunity to get his own .45 pistol on him and take him down. However, like a true wingman, Jin whipped out his .44 Magnum and planted a slug in the middle of Boone’s forehead. Boone’s head burst like a balloon with the concussive force of the round exiting his skull, blood and brain matter being spewed across the floor. Amidst the cacophony, more patrons decided to partake in the bullet-strewn chaos. For the first guy he saw out of his peripheral vision, Teru greeted him with a fury of .45 ACP bullets. Coming in waves, Teru locked on and danced the *tick-tick, tack-tack* rhythm with his fingers on the triggers.

“Kobayashi, you bastard!” A drunk tried to work up his motor skills to draw his pistol, but Jin instantaneously placed another one of his .44 magnum slugs on a collision course with his breastbone. The drunk went flying out the window due to the power of the handgun and the bullet itself. Jin tried looking for another target, but was interrupted by another pesky fellow who got him in a headlock. Jin freed himself by using his metal arm to elbow the antagonist right in the kidney. Once he was free, Jin used his artificial arm again to back-fist him across the bar, sending him crashing head-first into the wall…

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With the attention being placed on trying to kill Jin Kobayashi and Teru Murasame, Sirrah managed to sneak out of the back. Calming down, he reached for his cellular and called the man he helped sell out Kobayashi and Murasame…

“Yes?”

“Ritzuko, it’s me.”

“No shit. Has everything been rectified?”

“Your guys got hit before they could make a move. I’ve… I’ve never seen anyone move as fast as that Murasame kid. Now they’re in the bar, killing everyone who wants to get the drop on them!”

“Drunken fools… Alright Sirrah, I’m on my way. Try not to fucking die before I get there.”

“Yes sir. I won’t, sir. Thank you.”

The other line went dead…

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The smell of gunpowder filled the air as Teru and Jin reloaded their weapons. The bar was drenched in blood and guts, and the floor became a pool of bodies.

“Well Jin, you never told me you were hated this much.”

“I figured I didn’t have to.”

All of a sudden, a creak from behind caught the attention of Teru and Jin, so they twirled around and pointed their firearms accordingly.

“Sirrah?” Jin was in disbelief. “Where the hell were you?”

“Why do you care, Kobayashi? You’re just going to kill me too.”

Teru cocked the hammer of his left-hand pistol. “You sold us out, didn’t you? You called up those two fuckwits to try and take a stab at us, and for what?”

Sirrah smirked. “That’s where you’re wrong, brat! I called the man in charge, and he was the one who sent Vlad and Boone after you assholes. You think that cuz you got a gun, you own the fucking world? All you do is bathe yourself in blood and bullshit bravado just because your life ain’t worth shit! I lost friends and family thanks to the both of you, so now is the perfect time for you to learn the hard lesson.”

“You’re one to talk.” Teru spoke while sighting Sirrah down with his pistol. “Your personal gunmen were nothing more than lunatics who thought they owned the world, but you chose to use them to enact your bleeding-heart sense of justice instead of doing it yourself. You’re a fucking hypocrite and you know it!”

“Now we ask the big question. Who did you call?”

“He called me, gentlemen!” A voice echoed throughout the bar as Teru and Jin shifted their focus to a lanky blond individual an old military jacket and a black leather mask.

“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” Teru inquired as he pointed the right pistol on the newcomer while keeping his left pistol on Sirrah.

“Well if you must know, Mister Teru Murasame, I am the one in charge of the two associates you murdered.”

Jin joined in and pointed his .44 Magnum at the guest. “You mean, the associates we murdered?”

“Of course, Mister Kobayashi. I didn’t mean to wound your pride. My associates call me Ritzuko. Sparing you two the pleasantries, I implore you both to put down your weapons before more lives are lost.”

“Now why the fuck would we do that?”

“Because, Mister Kobayashi, if you care to look outside you’ll see more of my gunmen holding innocent bystanders against their will. If you’re not as horrid as you say you are, you’ll concede with my order.”

Jin took the split-second caesura to peer out the window. He did, in fact, catch a glimpse of one of Ritzuko’s henchmen holding a machine pistol to the head of a little girl.

“You bastard!” Jin gritted his teeth and clenched his metal fist in contempt. “Why use to get the drop on us?”

“Indeed, so I suggest you and your guest put down your weapons or else the children will be harmed.”

Teru and Jin both muttered curses under their breath as they slowly placed their pistols on the floor.

“Well now, it appears that the perceptions about you two are wrong after all.” Ritzuko fashioned a smirk. “Unfortunately, that won’t guarantee your survival.” He unsheathed his katana and placed the blade upon Teru’s neck. “Your heads will make lovely additions to my collection.”

As Ritzuko was lost in the spell of bloodlust, Teru slowly reached behind his back and up his shirt. Never breaking his gaze, Teru exploded into action. In a split-second, Ritzuko’s forearm- still clutching the sword- was on the ground leaking ever so sinuous.

“Master!” Sirrah desperately tried to reach for his Glock, but his pathetic attempt was hampered by Teru’s dead-accurate heave of his short sword straight into his chest. Sirrah fell to his knees and coughed up a blood bubble before his face plant. Teru immediately rushed to the corpse and recovered his blade while Jin was gathering up their respective firearms.

“You… You couldn’t have… You couldn’t have beaten me…”

“Here’s the deal,” Teru quoted as he fastened his gun belt, “if there’s one thing I’ve learned from poker players, it’s to always keep an ace up my sleeve in case one player decides to play a foul hand.” Teru then knelt down by his side. “You decided to play dirty when you took those kids hostage, so I just changed the game. Now your arm belongs to me. I wager about a good hour at best before you completely bleed out.”

Teru stood back up, clutching his prize. He shoved the arm into one of the pockets of his coat, and shunned Ritzuko. Jin walked over, glowered into Ritzuko’s eyes, then threw his iron fist squarely at his jaw. Ritzuko’s head bounced off the wooden surface into unconsciousness.

“Nice hit.”

“Thanks. It felt pretty damn good to lay into that son of a bitch. I hate people who fuck around with kids.”

“Speaking of which, we still got the goons outside to contend with.”

Jin crouched from out of view and lurked to the window. Creeping up the wall, Jin tried to get a better vantage point unseen. “I count three assholes with MP-7 machine pistols. How are we gonna play this game, high-roller?”

Teru reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the arm. “Jin, get your cannon ready and follow my lead.”

Jin slowly pulled his 44 magnum out of his holster and waited. Teru leaned over and carefully opened the door a bit. When he had enough room, Teru swiftly pitched the arm outside. Teru’s gamble paid off as the gunmen abruptly opened fire on the target. With their attention diverted from the children, Teru and Jin made their plays. Teru spun out from the doorway with pistols drawn. With one masked gunmen in each sight, Teru launched a bullet from each gun. One round entered the skull of one goon and blew apart his cranium. The second round cut through the other’s throat like a knife slicing warm butter. Jin somersaulted out the broken window, landed in a perfect crouch, and propelled a slug directly into the mask of the final gunman. Blood blasted from the lower region of his skull, and the concussive shockwave pushed his hollow head down into the sand.

“Well, that was easy.”

“Yeah.” Teru surveyed the stillness of his surroundings. He looked back at the victims, then back at the severed arm which was completely thrashed to pieces. “As a matter of fact, it was too easy.”

“What do you mean, Teru?”

“Shush,” Teru barked. Keeping his guns drawn, he observed the rooftops and took mental notes on every second- and third-story window. “Something definitely isn’t right.”

A breeze started to wisp across the sands as Teru noticed the sun fading from its prior luminescent glory. A wall of clouds as grey as Jin’s arm bulwarked the radiant globe, sapping the warmth and light from the sky and leaving nothing but darkness and cold.

“This day just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?” Jin mused.

“Shush, something’s not right,” Teru barked as his eyes started darting back and forth, leaving a keen ear to the sound of the breeze. Something sounded just a tad off.

Silence gripped the two gunslingers as the wind started to pick up and raindrops started to fall. In between the crashing deluge and intermittent gusts left a lingering high-pitched squeal that landed heavily on their ears.

“Jin, are you hearing-“

“Fucking Stalkers!”

Bursting forth from the horizon were several pale figures with deep, crimson eyes kicking up large mounds of mud and letting loose with a gnarled screech from their fanged maws. The humanoid figures were dressed in dirty, tattered clothing and ran with an arched gait, swinging their clawed fingers in a desperate attempt to feast on the two victims put forth in front of them.

“We gotta go!” No argument here as both Jin and Teru made a mad dash to one of the bikes to get away from the undead bloodsuckers. Revving the engine as hard as possible, Jin let loose on the throttle and sped away. Neither of them dared to look behind them to see how close the Stalkers were getting, already knowing that they were faster and more agile than even the fittest of athletic runners so looking back would be an immediate death sentence.

As soon as the both of them were nearing the city limits, a monstrous deuce-and-a-half truck skidded to a halt directly in their path, kicking up mud with its thick pneumatic tires. In the bed of the truck, a turret swung its dual 12.7mm DShK machine guns to bear right in front of them. Without hesitation, Jin threw the handlebars to the right and tore away from the kill zone as soon as those guns exploded to life. The guttural rapport of the machine guns signaled the death knell for the Stalkers as they were viscerally disemboweled by those thunderous 12.7mm rounds.

With the rattling of the DShK safely behind them, Jin and Teru were closing in on the shack where they met earlier today. Neither had the time or inclination to admit it, but they could have burst into tears of joy at that very moment.

“Home sweet home! Now let’s grab our shit and blow this joint!”

Teru threw on his jacket in a whipping motion while Jin opened up a metal foot locker and started rummaging. Within seconds, a long item wrapped in a camouflage poncho liner was cradled in Jin’s arms. Protruding from the liner was the unmistakable shape of a rifle barrel. Keeping the liner wrapped around the weapon was a belt affixed with several pouches certainly storing the rifle’s magazines.

“What is that?”

Jin cocked a smirk. “This, my friend, is the lovely mistress.”

Teru raises an eyebrow before gathering his spare magazines and evaluating his own ammo situation. Not long after the boys gathered their gear did they hear the familiar roar of diesel engines in the distance.

“What the shit? Ritzuko sent more?”

“You do have an escape plan, right?

“Well, the docks aren’t too far from here. I was thinking we abscond with one of the boats and head south of the mainland. It’ll at least give us a little time to get shit sorted out.”

Teru had no reason to argue with his new ally. Staying anywhere near the Aquila Islands would mean certain death at the hands of Ritzuko’s personal army, and facing execution at New Trinity was never an option to begin with. He let out a long sigh and nodded his approval to his partner.

As soon as Jin and Teru approached the bike, a convoy of armored trucks and motorcycles came into view. Barreling down the street, the motorcyclists wasted no time in unleashing their automatic fury on the duo. Jin and Teru immediately hopped onto the motorcycle and desperately attempted to hold them off until they reached the docks. Sub-machine gun fire rippled from side to side, as Jin drove the bike in a serpentine motion as to not allow the creep to draw an accurate bead on them. Teru wasted no time in returning fire, keeping the gunman at bay. In-between the back-and-forth exchange of fire, Teru was able to calculate the terminal ballistics needed in order to remove the thorn in their side.

“Jin, ease off the throttle!”

“You fucking kidding me, Murasame?”

“Trust me, dammit!”

Gritting his teeth, Jin did what he was told and allowed the enemy to get closer. In doing so, Teru launched two .45ACP projectiles directly into the motorcycle’s fuel tank. In an instant, the motorcycle vaporized into a flaming ball of molten metal and rubber, catapulting the cyclist to his physically traumatic doom. Jin did not hesitate to kick the bike into high gear again to avoid the destruction.

“I guess now I have no choice but to trust you, do I?”

“In all honesty, you never did!”

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The duo were able to reach the docks in just enough time to prepare their transportation off the island. Teru leapt onboard the small fishing boat to stow the gear and ignite the engines, while Jin stayed behind to prepare a rather “explosive” surprise for their pursuers. Located at the entrance to the docks were drums filled with fuel for the numerous boats docked there. Jin, utilizing his metallic arm, punched holes into the tops of a few drums and scattered its contents across the entryway. Jin then positioned the remaining drums around the fuel-soaked entrance to act as a firewall. Before the last few drums could be positioned, the roars of diesel engines and whines of motorcycles alerted Jin that it was time to leave. In a haste, he put the finishing touches on his trap and darted towards the boat. Diving towards the boat, he simultaneously tore the rope away from the post allowing the boat to spring to life and sail away, thanks to Teru immediately firewalling the throttle as soon as Jin was on board.

“Teru, where’s my rifle?”

Teru reached underneath the console and handed Jin his “lovely mistress”. Jin undid the belt and unwrapped the liner, revealing a forest-green M-14 rifle. Reaching into one of the pouches, Jin grabbed a magazine and loaded it into the rifle. Chambering a round, Jin posted himself against the door jamb of the wheelhouse and aimed towards the nearest barrel he could find. Accounting for the wind and movement of the boat, he made minor adjustments to his aim and controlled his breathing. Keeping a steady breathing pattern, Jin was keyed in on his target, and with a slight squeeze on the trigger he pelted the bullet dead-center into the barrel.

In a brilliant flash of light the docks erupted into a thunderous, fiery maelstrom. A handful of motorcycles and trucks were caught in the blast, literally erasing any would-be remnants. A few trucks managed to stop in time and expended what ammo they had in a desperate attempt to score at least one hit. Alas, the boat faded from view, leaving Ritzuko’s surviving goons to decide who was to be the unlucky bastard to deliver the bad news…

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Surrounding Sirrah’s tavern was a commotion of Ritzuko’s remaining guns-for-hire, guarding against any would-be trespassers. The inside of the tavern, however, told a different story…

“GODDAMN YOU!!! GODDAMN YOU ALL!!! FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!” Ritzuko’s pained screams sent chills down the spines of every one of his goons. The medic cauterizing his wound was no exception.

“Alright, we’re done here.” The medic reaches into his bag and pulls out a clear bottle marked “XXX”. Taking a wad of gauze, he uncorks the bottle and applies the alcohol-soaked material to the wound.

Ritzuko immediately snatches the bottle away and pours a hefty amount down his throat. “Can you save my arm, Doc?”

“That’s gonna be a bit of a problem. I don’t have the necessary equipment to duplicate the cells and recreate the arm, nor can I use the piece that was cut off and shot to hell. Dermanium is our only option at this point, sir.”

Ritzuko let out a sigh. “That motherfucker… How in the hell was he able to get the drop on me?”

The medic proceeded to wrap bandages around the wound. “Frankly sir, you’re lucky to be alive after that run-in with the kid from New Trinity.”

“Yeah… He won’t be alive for long, I promise that much.”

Suddenly the doors swing open, and a woman with a side-cut approaches Ritzuko.

“Ah Chancey, you’re the only salvation to my day. Has the problem been taken care of?”

“Unfortunately sir, Kobayashi and Murasame escaped on a boat and appeared to be heading back towards the mainland.”

An uneasy silence settled in the tavern as Ritzuko stood up from the floor and picked up his katana. Chancey closed her eyes tight, bracing for the wrath that she brought upon herself. However, she opened her eyes in confusion and relief as Ritzuko stabbed his katana into the floor.

“Chancey, we all make mistakes. It’d be childish of me to take your life because of one simple fuck-up. I mean, we’re only human after all, right? Besides, you’ve done some outstanding work for me over the years, and I was happy to pay you handsomely for your services.” Ritzuko caressed her cheek softly with his good hand and smiled warmly at her. “Who else was in your detail that survived?”

“Branning and Wilhelmine, sir.”

After Ritzuko called them out, two figures instantaneously appeared in the tavern. One was a tall man with pale skin, a long face, and long hair fashioned in braids. The other was a petite black woman with shoulder-length purple hair.

“Ah, so you two were in Chancey’s detail, correct?”

Branning and Wilhelmine both replied with a hearty “Yes, sir.”

“Since you both have a military background similar to Chancey here, have your superiors assigned you a task or put you on a mission that was inevitably deemed a failure?”

Branning and Wilhelmine looked at each other, then replied with a sullen “Yes, sir.”

“I see, and did those superiors let you slide off the hook for that failure?”

“No, sir.”

“Was there a punishment involved?”

Branning stepped up and spoke solo. “Our commanding officers sentenced and convicted our platoon leader to execution by firing squad for dereliction of duty and conduct unbecoming.”

Ritzuko raised a curious eyebrow. “One final question. Should Chancey here be held to the same standards as you are, considering she was a soldier too?”

Branning did not hesitate. “Yes, sir.”

Wilhelmine interjected. “Hold on, sir. May I ask what this is all about?”

Ritzuko unsheathed his sword from the wooden floor and placed the hilt into Branning’s hands. “Then you know what must be done, especially if you’d like to receive her pay rate.”

Without hesitation, Branning burst forth and plunges the blade into Chancey’s stomach. Blood froths in Chancey’s mouth as she slumps lifelessly to the floor. Branning forces the katana from her stomach, spraying excess blood from the grievous wound, and presents the blade to Ritzuko.

“Well done! I’ll see to it that you’re paid handsomely for this. I’ll be expecting good things out of you from now on, considering you now know the price of failure.”

“Yes, sir. I won’t let you down.”

Ritzuko relieves Branning of the sword and cleans the excess blood off the leg of his pants before sheathing it. “I have some business to attend to, and apparently so do you. Get to it, Branning. Oh, and Wilhelmine? Question my authority again, and I’ll see to it your head joins the others outside.”

The standard “Yes, sir” was heard from both Branning and Wilhelmine as they leave the tavern. As soon as Ritzuko hears the doors close, he reaches for his cell phone and makes another call…

“This is Ritzuko. I have a rather well-paying job for you…”