Daredevil: Doomsday

Chapter One

'I don't get it…how-how does a kid end up overdosing on this drug?' Karen asks, her tone is riddled with anger-directed at the criminals who target innocents like the kid in question. Yesterday, a bunch of kids were playing the streets when they came across an abandoned van. In that van they found a substance…one of them smelt it, just a whiff. Two minutes later, he was on the ground convulsing. Now he's in a coma. Chemicals ate away parts of his brains and organs, all this from a scent.
'That was just collateral damage, the problem we have is the drug is deadly no matter what quantity it's taken in. That's the problem.'
'Collateral damage?' Karan remarks, immediately calling me on my bullshit, I flinch.
'In the eyes of whoever the suppliers are…'
'What if it falls into the wrong hands?' Karen asks, wondering aloud the same thing I'm thinking internally. Karen's voice bounces off the surfaces, giving the office the faintest form for my blinded vision. Vague shapes and hard edges, furniture and then there's heat, soft curves, smooth motions, a heartbeat, I pause. I'm staring at Karen. I'm a blind guy staring at a woman. I turn my head away, making the situation more appropriate, but I can still sense her presence. She's beautiful, and her scent is intoxicating, she uses light perfumes that make my senses dance.
As I concentrate on the office around me, I note that everything is exactly as we left it yesterday– the only exception is a take away box, courtesy of Foggy, who's slumped on the desk. From the shuffling I hear, I sense he's rifling through files in search of something. I run my fingertips over the brail in the law textbook, brushing up on some basics. My ribs still ache from the brawl with Fisk. I'm glad he's behind bars. So is Foggy…but Karen…something's changed in Karen and I can't place it… not yet.
'Bingo! These vans were used by DigiPalm.' Foggy announces, the chair screeches and the atmosphere shifts-he's sitting upright as he speaks. This is something Foggy does when he's one hundred percent sure about something. I sit up. Finally, a lead.
A wooden chair groans against the floorboards, a weight shifts in the office. It's Karen. She's walking past me, her warm arm brushes the back of my head gently, she doesn't notice.
'Anyone want a coffee?'
'I take mine black, like the soul of DigiPalm.' Foggy quips, I smile at the poor joke.
Her voice does that thing it does when she says my name, '…Matt?' It's slightly… tense.
'No thank you. I actually need to be somewhere, see a friend about something…' I lie. I'm going after Digipalm, but I realised I want Karen and Foggy around, hence the lie.
Foggy covers for me, 'oh, yea…say uh, say hi.' Foggy says.
'Will do.' As I walk past Karen, I feel her warmth.
'Which friend?' She asks before I make it to the door. I hate myself for this, but I have to lie.
'There was this hot Greek chick from college…' Foggy says, covering for me with a half-truth. There was a hot Greek chick in college, but I've got other things to do right now.
'Oh…' Karen's silence sends a twinge of nerves through me.
'I'll catch up with you guys tonight…?' I say, half asking and half apologising.
'Sure,' Foggy says.
Karen doesn't answer though. She has a funny way of making me feel like an asshole. I can't shake what's up with her, there's an edge to her that never used to be there. I don't know if I should protect her or confront her.
Maybe it's not my place to do either, flinching as I shut the door behind me, I hear Karen say, 'hot Greek girl?' Prompting Foggy to elaborate, and knowing Foggy he will.

I duck past the parked vans in the underground car park. I run my fingers across the van nearest to me, the outline of the sticker on its side reads, 'Digipalm'. That's the tenth car in the parking lot. It means I'm definitely in the right place. I tracked it by scouring the rooftops of the city and listening down for any mentions of the word 'Digipalm'. I haven't heard of them before. I need to know who they're moving such deadly cargo for and what it is.
Thud…thud….thud….thud….thud, thud, thud, thud…I pause. Footsteps approach a van parked across from me. Creak! The perp's opening the doors to the van. Then I hear a hiss… He's dragging something heavy, it's followed by a clang! He tosses it into the van and slams the doors shut. I wince. My ears ring for a moment.
'Hey!'
Crap, he's seen me. I shake my head roughly, getting rid of the nausea from the ringing in my ears and I sprint at him. I punch-he dodges and my fist slams into the van. I flinch. From his grunt, the soundwaves ricochet off his body and etch an image of him in my mind. He's between 140-160pounds, tall, lean…is that tobacco I smell? I stamp on his foot, grab his wrist and yank it, forcing him to turn until he slams his face into the van door. I feel him panting as he struggles, his torso rises and falls rapidly against the van. I hold him firmly in place.
'What're you moving?'
'I can't tell you, man!' He swears, his heart hammers in his chest, I can't work out if he's afraid or lying. I wrench his arm, he cries out.
'What're you moving?!'
'Serpentis!' He cries, 'it's called S-Serpentis! It's some kinda drug – I d-don't know what it's for…The guy just pays us to move it, I swear to god, man! Let me go!'
'Which guy?' I ask, firm.
'I don't know his name-'
I wrench his arm harder this time while shoving my knee into the back of his. He grunts in pain, 'I don't know his god damn name!'
I guess he's left me no choice, in one swift movement…Crack. I snap his wrist. He howls in agony, I spin him round then grab him by the collar, slamming him up against the van door.
'Give me a name, or lose your other wrist…!' I snarl, in truth I'm struggling to hold him in place, my ribs are aching as if acid is burning through them. They're definitely bruised, probably cracked. Again.
'No, no, please! I have a family-I gotta work!'
'I hope you're good with your feet…' I taunt as I tighten my grip on him, he howls anticipation for the sickening crack that he thinks will follow…and suddenly he has a name for me.
'The only name I have is for Kale Lawson—he picks it up and drops it off to my guys…Kale Lawson. Please…god, please don't do this…!'
'A little boy is in a coma because one of your guys abandoned their vans-' I spit out the words. He shakes his head, 'you don't get it, man…my guy saw what the drug did to his pal in the back with it and he ran. Said the other guy got all…weird in the head.'
'Kale Lawson?' I repeat back to him, the man nods rapidly, I can hear his skull on the base of his spine. One nod, two nods, three nods.
'Yeah, he's outta town but will be back on Friday with another batch. Just let me go…' He's pleading now, like a scared child. I release him, that's all I need to know. I listen for him as he runs out into the open. I run my hand along the vans, making sure I counted right. Ten vans. Not one more not one less. Kale Lawson, Friday.

Back at the apartment, I cradle my arm over my ribs. I'm in agony, I pull open the cupboard and down a shot of whiskey. The liquor hits me hard at first, the wooden flavour makes my tastebuds flare up. I pull off the costume and pull on a pair of trousers and a sweater. I wish Claire wasn't out of town right now, I think to myself. She said she was leaving town for a short vacation, and I don't blame her. I wish I could take a break from being me.

Clack…clack…clack…I pause, straining to listen, from the frequency of steps being taken, I know it's someone tall. Not as tall as me but almost. The way they strike against the floorboards of the apartment block tells me its heels, so a woman. I'm familiar with this gait, it's the same one I've picked up on at the office several times, whenever I'm offered a coffee …its Karen. I feel for the clock on the wall. 23:42pm. Why's Karen here?
I put on my glasses and wait for the knock because opening the door before she knocks would probably freak her out. Knock, knock!
There it is. I pull the door open and I instantly pick up the scent of cherry brandy.
'Foggy, had a date with Marci.' She announces as she walks in, 'so I thought I'd check in…' She says. There's a pause, but from her footsteps I can tell she's taking silent steps here and there to scan the place.
'There's nobody else here.' I reassure her, assuming she's concerned.
'Oh, no…sorry, I was worried I was interrupting.' She explains, 'how was the Greek girl?'
I smirk, 'you mean the hot Greek girl?'
Another pause then, 'sure…'
'She cancelled…' I lie, nodding slowly and wearing my best puppy-dog expression. I feel her step closer to me and suddenly my senses are engrossed by her. The scent of perfume mingling with soap, knowing her skin is soft from having brushed past her before just adds to her allure, topped off by the slightest whiff of shampoo and cherry liquor on her breath.
'Matt…' Her heart is beating so fast, I struggle to listen to her words, have I stepped closer to her? My body acts like it's on autopilot, like a powerless magnet drawn to metal.
'Karen…' I manage to whisper. She gently grazes my cheek with her hand and it sends alarm bells blaring through my mind, my mind is on fire. 'There's something I-'
Before I've processed what she's saying, my lips find hers and I kiss her warmly. My fingertips trace her every outline as they slide down her sides, I rest my hands at her waist. Lifting a hand, I find her chin and then kiss her a second time, more passionate now. She moans and kisses me back. She cups my cheeks, I wonder how my stubble feels against her soft supple skin. As she pulls me closer, my ribs send a stabbing pain through my body and I jerk away. The spell broken, she's breathless and both our hearts race in our chests. I step back, 'uh…sorry, Karen…I sh-shouldn't have…y-you should go.' I blurt. I'm terrified. The intensity of how I feel scares me. I've never wanted someone as much as I wanted her just now, but if it's just a lust thing, she deserves better and we both know it.
'…what?' She manages, the confusion and hurt in her voice make me loathe myself.
'Please…this…we can't happen.' I explain, I feel a warm hand caress my cheek and I jerk my head away then instantly regret it. A loud silence hangs in the air between us.
'You're a piece of work, Matt. You know that?' She asks, pissed off. And she has every right to be. I hear the door slam, I tentatively approach it and pressing my hand against its surface I steady myself then lean against it and lower myself to the floor.
What was I thinking? I demand from myself, I wasn't. I always sensed the tension and chemistry, I understood she was attractive but I know better. I bury my face in my hands and groan, I hate myself. I've just ruined a great friendship and hurt a good woman. Foggy's going to kill me…
She wanted to confide in you and instead you kiss her? Just thinking of the way her lips felt against mine, and the gentle curves of her silhouette leaning in to my touch makes my heart pound. What am I doing?
What did she want to tell me…?