The Dark Ride Saga - Chapter
one
Run with the wolves, but don't smell like
chicken.
Jean couldn't believe what was happening, what Ororoe was doing! This shouldn't be happening! She was married to Scott! All this and every other protest in her mind died as Storm slid her hand slowly down
Okay, now I'm sure I have your attention, it's time for the
Disclaimers-
Round up the usual suspects:
I own none of the following. 'Cept for Cal. The characters and situations all belong to someone else. As a matter of fact, I'm not real, either. I'm a psychic entity created and sustained by three magic goldfish, genetically created remnants of the cold war, currently hiding in a secret underground bunker in Uzbekistan. Sue me now!
This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship:
Since I don't make any money out of this, and am getting only ego gratification, please feel free to archive this. But do please tell me 'bout it. In a review maybe? (Hint Hint)
The problems of two little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy mixed up world:
But I'm rating it PG just to be safe.
I seem to have gotten a little turned around here. WHERE ARE WE!?!:
They aren't sure when this took place either, but I massively altered the time line using my author powers anyway.
I'm shocked, shocked, to find gambling going on here:
At least there are no real spoilers. Well okay probably some old ones.
New York.
Like the song says it's a helluva town.
Right at that point, it was raining.
Figures.
Anyway, I was trudging through the empty streets, trying to ignore the giant Roaches that scuttled for cover as I kicked through the drifts of sodden newspapers and decaying rubbish lining the street. I idly tracked a roach as it scuttled into an alley. An indistinct shape detached from the shadows and then disappeared. All was silent 'cept for a quiet crunching noise. I shook my head and moved on. I'd heard stories about the homeless using the roaches as a staple food supply before but I'd never believed them, till that point anyway. Right then it didn't matter to me. It bothers the hell outta me now though, and so does the fact I just walked on. Just shows you how much people can change.
A few blocks down and I came to the Hudson River. A few minutes walk brought me to a small park I know of. It's a little out of the way so it's usually empty. Safe too. It's kinda like neutral ground for the street gangs. I guess even muggers need someplace to take the kids to play catch. I always thought it was one of the nicest places in the city. The way the setting sun sparkled off of the windows in the tower blocks and the gentle gurgling of the river made it seem like all was right with the world. Out in the river a body surfaced and dispelled that illusion. I turned away, suddenly cold in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature. Outside the parks entrance I paused a moment to light up. Back then I tended to chain smoke cheap cigars. A quarter hour's worth of walking brought me to the worst part of the city.
Why?
I was living in an abandoned building. The remains of an ancient sign earmarked the building as unsuitable for human habitation. I always found that amusing. It would never apply to me. Ever. You couldn't beat the rent and if you ignored the asbestos it wasn't so bad.
I'd almost reached the doors when I realized I was being followed. Shows what depressed introspection'll do to your survival reflex huh? I concentrated. Didn't need any sort of special abilities to realize it was some random gang. Four lots of footsteps. I smiled and ducked into yet another of the cities myriad (great word huh? myriad.) alleys. On impulse I moved into the shadows and leaned against the wall. Just as they were drawing level I took a drag on my cigar, letting its glow illuminate me. Cyberpunk. They thought it made them look deadly. I thought they looked like a gunfight at a bondage party. I shook my head. That was an image that was gonna haunt me for the next coupla days. Their leather clothing, blatantly displayed weapons and heavy piercing combined to make it look like someone was having a bad day. I sighed. If they bothered me they would find out who and just how bad. There were five. I'd missed one. I was getting sloppy. Didn't matter though, I still outnumbered them one to five. I could only stay in the human world for so long and my time was almost up. I decided to cut straight to the point.
"Any reason you're following me?"
For a streetwise gang of killers they sure were spooked easily. The leader produced a gun and leveled it at my forehead. A flick of his wrist and a red dot laser sight activated, aimed square between my eyes. I didn't move. My lack of a reaction was worrying him. Finally he announced
"This is our turf o.k.?"
Another joined in with
"Since it's our turf we gotta collect taxes ya know? Wouldn't do ta let tha place deteriorate ya know?"
That produced a chuckle from the group and I fought the urge to groan. Evil criminal masterminds they were not. In the darkness, my smile turned into a definite grin. The sort of grin a shark gives to a diver before something digestive happens. I made up my mind and relaxed, enjoying the sense of release as I resumed my real form.
What would come out of the shadows would really surprise them.
It would be, quite accurately, the surprise of their lives.