Chapter Four
The next day, Carson and his damaged car picked Roseline up from work. Ox sat in the front, with Softee, herself, and a blue-skinned burly guy wearing a hoodie and sunglasses in the back.
"You must be Shady Mike," she said as she climbed in the car.
"Yeah," he muttered.
Ox spoke as Carson put the car in gear. "Forgive him. He's the silent type. He usually only speaks in monosyllabic utterances."
Carson added, "It's his thing."
Roseline had her balled up coveralls under one arm, leaving her dirty tee shirt and torn jeans exposed. She pulled some hair out of her face. "So, where is this place?"
"Shady Mike says the Crips usually meet at this abandoned warehouse on Grove Street." Ox said, "If we're lucky, we'll find them there."
Ros nodded, then asked politely, "How's your head, Softee?"
"Still hurts, but that's the hangover. Not the mob hit you did on my skull."
"Tough as nails, that S.O.B.," Carson bragged.
Within fifteen minutes, they were on Grove Street. Roseline noted the street was lined with cars… even though it was an industrial complex. The gang was clearly here, and not caring to hide it.
Smug bastards.
The car parked and they all filed out. Carson popped open the trunk, and began pulling old, unpolished metal hunks from it. It took Roseline a moment to realize that chunks were pieces of armor.
As Carson slapped on a breastplate, Ros cocked an eyebrow. "You wear armor?"
Carson handed Ox a second breastplate. "You got a problem with that?"
"It makes us appear like an organization," Ox attached the breastplate to his chest as he spoke. "We all show up in the same uniform, we seem to be scarier to people. You'd be surprised how often it works."
Carson plopped a helmet on his head. "Plus, I look dead sexy in full regalia."
Shady Mike pulled on a chainmail shirt that was perfectly fitted to him. He hooked on a helmet.
Softee didn't need any armor; he just stood there with his dirty tee shirt and pants.
Carson handed a chainmail ball to Ros. "Put it on."
Ros unrolled the mess and found a shirt that was three times her size. "This goes all the way to my knees!"
"It's all we had on short notice. We'll get you fitted later."
"Where do you even get this stuff?"
Carson grinned. "Trade secret."
Ox handed her a large metal pipe. He shouldered a crowbar. Carson pulled out an aluminum bat and swung it a few times.
Ros said, "Don't Mike and Softee get weapons?"
There was general laughter in response.
"We do better with our bare hands," Softee said.
"Taking on entire crowds of people are their specialty." Carson warned, "Just remember to keep your head down when the fighting starts. Bodies will be flying!"
As she lifted the chainmail shirt over her head, Ox said, "Pro tip, aim for joints. If you cripple someone in one shot, they are out of the fight."
Once Ros had the chainmail on, the group proceeded towards the door of the warehouse. Ox grabbed the large metal door and threw it open. In the dim lighting inside, they saw about two dozen eyes all turn to them.
Carson led the way into the building, letting his bat swing at his side. Ox and the others filed in after him with Ros taking up the back.
There was a lot of whispering and cursing. Nobody moved.
Roseline began to feel like a caged animal. She was trapped inside this box with over twenty men, all wearing blue to show their loyalties. She must have been crazy to have signed up for this. Who just walks into hostile territory like this?
Eventually the silence broke when one gang member with a shaved head stepped forward.
"The fuck is this?" Shaved Head said, "You some Renaissance Faire faggots?"
Laughter rolled through the crowd.
Carson stared him down.
"Oi!" He belted, "I'm from jolly ole England!"
Carson swung his bat.
He was fast, and nailed Shaved Head right in his knee, causing his leg to bend in unnatural ways. Shaved Head hit the floor, screaming.
The crowd tensed. Knives were drawn and thugs stood, ready to fight.
Ox lifted his weapon, and Ros followed in suit. Shady Mike and Softee both dropped into fighting stances. They all turned back to back, as if by instinct.
A man wearing a blue hat began screaming, "Motherfuckers! Don't you know who you're fucking with? We will fucking kill you!"
"You guys sure say 'fuck' a lot," Carson snarked.
Ox bellowed, "We are protecting Bridgewater Auto. You keep your filthy hands off of them, and you won't be harmed."
Braided Hair kid found his way out of the crowd, and signaled out Ros. "Yo," he said, "that's the bitch that hit me with a fucking wrench."
Blue Hat pointed at them. "Someone ventilate these bitches."
Right near Roseline a thug reached into his pants and drew a gun. He pointed it at Ox.
Not smart.
Because Ros could speak with machines. And a firing mechanism is a very simple machine.
Reflexively, her hand shot out to grab the gun. She gently asked it to stop working and, after a few loud clicks and no shot, thrust her metal pipe into the gunman's chest, throwing him backwards. She yanked the gun from his hand as he fell.
She threw the firearm to the ground, confident it wouldn't harm anyone.
Then the room exploded.
Thugs charged in, some bare handed, some armed with knives or tools they'd had lying around. Ox spun around and swept a few of them off their feet with his crowbar.
Ros had to duck as Softee threw a knife-wielding thug over her head.
She got to her feet in time to feel a knife hit her chainmail right where her kidneys were. The knife bounced off the armor. She drew her elbow back into the punk's face, breaking his nose.
She swung her pipe, hitting one thug in the wrist, causing him to drop his knife. She heard cartilage pop. Her hunter began to rage inside of her. She wanted blood.
She thrust the pipe up, catching the kid's jaw. There was a crunching sound. She swore as a tooth came out of the kid as he sputtered, stumbling backwards.
Carson was having a blast, swinging his bat and singing Take Me Out to the Ballgame. He beamed one gang member upside the head, and shouted, "Out of the park!"
Ros caught sight of Shady Mike slamming one thug into another, using him as a bludgeon. Mike lifted the thug far over his head, with a single hand, and smashed him on the cement floor below.
Thank god for magic, Ros thought.
Softee could be seen boxing a few thugs at once, taking knife strike after knife strike with little fear for his wellbeing. One of the thugs actually broke their blade on his hardened skin.
Ox kicked a punk to the ground, and thrust his crowbar's bent end into someone else's neck, causing them to choke and drop the gun they'd just drawn. A kid jumped on Ox's broad back, and Ox bucked. He slung the kid over his shoulder, driving his head into the concrete.
The crowd was thinning out and backing off.
A hush fell as the five Tolltakers returned to their original position near the door, back to back, all their weapons and fists at the ready.
The remaining ten unharmed gang members were shaken up. Close to a dozen punks lied unconscious or injured from the brief fight.
Roseline couldn't believe her eyes. They'd actually taken out half their crew, being outnumbered. The Knights knew how to fight.
Carson laughed as he spoke, "Who's the leader here?"
Silence.
He lifted his bat and lunged at one of the nearby thugs. He menaced. "Who's in charge?"
The punk panicked and pointed to one of the downed soldiers whose nose was busted. Someone had shattered his hand. Carson grabbed the leader by the shirt and lifted him to his feet. The kid flinched and spat blood on Carson.
Carson just hooted and head-butt the kid, his metal helmet almost knocking the thug unconscious.
"Bridgewater Auto is under our protection. You understand?" He barked, "I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
The thug nodded, afraid of another blow.
Excitement coursed through her veins. She couldn't believe it. The shop was going to be safe. If these guys were smart, they'd just take the beating and call it a day.
She felt her predator pacing inside of her, itching for more violence. But nobody came forward. They all looked far too scared to move. She clenched her fist a few times to let some of her tension out.
Ox shouldered his crowbar. "If you do anything to harm that shop or its employees," he threatened the crowd, "we'll come back. With more of us. And we won't stop next time."
Carson dropped the gang leader and sauntered towards the door. Whistling.
The party followed him. Roseline was breathing deeply, feeling the frenzy dying down in her as they proceeded to exit.
Shady Mike stopped to pick up the few dropped guns, putting them in his jacket.
"Mine," he muttered.