It's about eleven o clock at night. My head still hurts from that hangover I had last night. I don't remember much, but it was probably over the dancers at Kadie's. How I made it back to my apartment I will never know. I grab my coat, lace up my boots and head on out for the night. Usually I do odd jobs to get myself by, anything from beating up a cheating husband, to a huge fight with four guys because some scrawny bastard is to scared to fight them. A shame, people should defend themselves here in Sin City. They can't count on the cops because they're just as bad as the thugs who run them. The only cop who's actually good was John Hartigan. I didn't know him, and he didn't know me, but Nancy knew him a whole lot, even kissed him after jumping off the stage. Lucky bastard.
I hotwire an old Mercedes and head into the Projects. Still ugly as ever. I can't believe I was even born here. If you weren't known here and drove around in a sweet ride like this, you would've gotten mugged. I made a name for myself here, as did everyone else. I walk around a few minutes after I park the car. It'll probably get stolen anyway, so why keep it for myself? All of a sudden I feel like somebody's watching me. I'm always watched when I'm in the Projects, but these eyes felt different. They felt new. They felt like a killer who could rip you in half with a single punch. Sounds like me, but this one had something else about him.
I walk five blocks down when I see a figure of the thing or person that's watching me. He's a huge guy, like me, broad shoulders, muscular. His left arm is shiny, looks a lot like metal. This guy doesn't look too nice. I stare him down a little bit then I take off running after him. He's turning corners and jumping over objects like it was nothing. I feel winded after we reached The Square. That's the first time somebody's ever gotten me tired.
"So, you've decided to follow me." He says.
"Well," I say, "I guess I have a reason too now."
I get surprised when I see his left arm. It's nothing but a huge chunk of metal bent into an arm. It's when he pulls out the chainsaw on his arm that I get really intrigued. This guy ain't no regular guy. Probably he's some experiment that got out of the base. I don't care. He lunges forward and I grab his arm and throw him over my shoulder.
"You ain't so tough. I've taken on other guys who are twice as big as you."
I said that too soon, as I feel the metal crash against my face. It might've knocked out a few teeth. I stumble back and kick him square in the chest. It sends him flying into the trash can. This guy must be really stupid or very creative, because when he gets up, he grabs the can and shoves it down onto me. I feel trapped until he throws me into the old, messed up fountain. I get up and we end up grabbing each other's fist until mine connects. His goggles fall off and he flies back. Damn, he's tough.
The very next instant we end up flying towards each other. Punches are thrown and kicks are received until we kick up a dust storm. The fight began to get more intense when he pulled out his old chainsaw. Crap. He swings it toward me and I kick him in his back. He ends up slicing in half some old wino. I'll get him for that when he gets up. When he does, I tackle him into the ground and lay fist after fist after fist onto his face. He pushes me off and I see his bloody mug, slicked back hair and cold green eyes. He picks up his goggles and lights a cigarette. I can tell he's about to give me a smart ass remark but instead he sucker punches me with his left arm and runs off. That bastard will get what's coming to him. I'll get him back maybe tomorrow night.