Chapter 7 – Seeing Red
A lone boy traversed the snaking alleys and walkways of Sydney's' streets, he wore a blood red leather jacket over a dirty, white, old fashioned buttoned up shirt, a black belt held up his torn denim jeans. His hair was slick and greasy; it was combed back so it wouldn't cover his face.
His name was Kyle Falcon but he preferred just Falcon, he was a part of the notorious street gang known as the 10th street Reds, which gained its infamous name from selling red sand, Assaulting visiting aliens and participating in gang wars.
Falcon heard a yelp, over the sound of the city. Curious, he crept forward in the shadows, even though he was easy to spot with his red jacket. We should really think about changing our colours, he thought to himself.
"Weak" a deep voice reverberated through the alley, distracting Falcon from his thoughts.
Falcon peeped around a corner; there in front of him was a well built man in a long black coat, standing over a young boy who had a scar running down the left side of his face. He couldn't have been more than twelve. The large man pulled out a glistening object from his coats inside pocket.
Falcon squinted his eyes, straining to see what the man had taken out of his coat. Whatever it was, it glistened in the cold blue artificial light that was emitted from a neon sign on the far brick wall.
The large man bent down over the limp form of the young boy, slowly lowering the glistening object towards the boy's neck, as if he was going to inject something.
He was going to inject him with something, Falcon finally realised. "Oi..." He involuntarily shouted out.
The man whipped his head around in surprise towards Falcon. "Shit..." Falcon scorned himself in silence, as the scrutinizing eyes of the man studied his appearance. The man suddenly leaped to his feet, forgetting the boy that lay at his feet, for the moment, and made his way toward Falcon.
"Just... Just stay back... I... I... don't want to hurt you." Falcon managed to stutter, as he backed away from the advancing man. The man just laughed and continued to walk towards him, while reaching behind his back to reveal a collapsible sword, which folded out as the man pressed a button on the side.
The man stopped a few metres from Falcon and raised the sword to his neck. "You didn't see anything here... did you... boy?" The man stated in a low voice.
Falcon just shuddered and let out his breath that he didn't realise he had been holding. Even though he was part of a supposedly tough gang, he wasn't prepared to fight someone, let alone fight someone to help someone else.
"DID YOU BOY?" The man threateningly shouted, holding the sword point closer to Falcons neck. Falcon just gulped. "umm..ahh...well" he said in fear.
"SPIT IT OUT"
Falcon looked to the boy who still lay unconscious on the floor, if he left, the boy would surely be killed or hurt by the man, if he stayed the boy stood a chance... and he stood chance of being killed, Falcon thought. He wanted to leave, to run away from the scary sword wielding guy in front of him, but if he did he would never live it down.
"Fuck..." Falcon stated out loud as he came to his universe changing decision.
"What was that?" The man shouted impatiently.
Falcon looked around the alley way, looking for something that he could use for defence or offense against a sword. A wooden pallet, the type that is used to transport tiles and bricks around, caught his eye. It was to his far right, propped up against the wall. This is a stupid idea, he thought. He took a long breath, as if it was to be his last. "Yes." He stated resolutely.
"Yes? Yes what."
"Yes... I did see something."
The man's eyes narrowed to slits, his grip became tighter on the sword and his muscles bulged out. He suddenly sliced forward with his sword with no warning, Falcon just managed to duck underneath of the flash of steel. He could feel the air shift around the sword above his neck.
Falcon quickly rolled out of the way, towards the pallet, as the sword came down from above, hitting the concrete floor with a spark.
Falcon was practically shitting himself now. Two close calls already, he hadn't even landed a blow on the sword wielding maniac. He dived towards the wooden pallet, as the man lifted his sword once again. Grabbing it around its edges Falcon lifted it from the ground; it was heavier than it looked.
Falcon turned, with the wooden pallet in front of him, protecting majority of his body, just in time. The man's sword impaled itself in the wood as he lunged. Falcon saw his opportunity; he twisted the square pallet, ripping the sword out of the man's hands, sending it skidding into the shadows.
Falcon smiled for the briefest of seconds, only to be pummelled to the ground by the man. He couldn't move, his limbs were being held down by the weight of the man's body, it was hard to breath.
Falcons face exploded in pain as the man's fist connected with it. He felt his body suddenly relieved of the man's weight as the man then picked him up and threw him.
Falcon felt a metal object dig into his back on impact with the concrete floor, obviously bruising him. He looked up and saw the man advancing on him once again. His breathing became uncontrolled by fear. He rolled over to pick himself up, but came face to face with the man's sword on the floor. He grabbed it and wrenched it from underneath himself, he rolled over again, the man was now on top of him. Without thinking he thrust the sword forward into the mans chest.
The man let out a gurgle as he felt the tip of the sword slide through his body like a knife through butter.
Falcon watched in horror as the pain etched itself on the man's face.
The man fell forward pushing the sword further through his body, landing to the side of Falcon.
Falcon lay on the ground for a couple more minutes letting his hard course breath subside. "Too close... way too close..." he said to himself as he finally got up from the cold ground. He made his way to the boy on the ground. He knelt beside the figure.
"Hey... mate... are you ok." Falcon asked as he shook the limp body. No response. The boy was still breathing. "Always a good sign." Falcon looked up at the dark sky wondering what he was going to do now, walking through the streets with a body on ones shoulders tended to get unwanted attention, attention he couldn't afford, being a part of a wanted gang.
Something glistened in the corner of Falcons eye. A medallion had fallen out of the dead mans pocket. Falcon walked over to it and picked it up of the ground, he brought it to his face and looked over it. On one of the sides, engraved was written 'SHEPARD'. What was Shepard?
Falcon was brought back from his inner thoughts as the limp form of the boy stirred. Hurrying over to the boy, he knelt beside him. "Hey... Hey mate are you ok?"
John's eyes opened weakly, his vision was still blurry, he could only make out outlines of things. What had happened? " Hey... Hey mate are you ok?" a blurry figure asked worried. His vision started to clear, there kneeling next to him was a boy a bit older than himself, wearing a red leather jacket over a white buttoned up shirt, twiddling a medallion in his hand. "Hey... are you alright?" the boy in a red jacket asked him.
"Yeah...I think" John replied.
Relief flooded the strangers face. "Good to know... I'm Falcon" the boy stated as he offered john his hand to help john up.
John took the hand and he was lifted to his feet. The first thing he noticed was the unmoving form of a man on the ground, a sword through his chest. "What happened to him" John practically shouted, pointing to the dead man.
"Oh... You don't recognise him?" Falcon asked in surprise.
"Should I?"
"Must have got you from behind... That man there knocked you out. When I found you, he was bent over you like a vulture over a carcass, about to inject you with... god only knows what." Falcon explained.
John let the information sink in. So that was how he got knocked out? "So you killed him?" John finally asked.
Falcon eyebrow clenched together, "Hey I didn't want to kill no one, it was either him, or me and you" he defended his actions.
"I wasn't trying to say it wasn't... thank you... for saving me"
"You're welcome" falcon said with a trace of the past anger. "So what's your name?"
"John."
"John... just John?" Falcon asked.
"Should I have another name?" John quite seriously asked.
"uhhh... Yeah, you know a last name, surname, family name"
"Never given one" John lied, he didn't want to be part of his father's family, so he wasn't going to go around and advertise his name and heritage.
"So you don't have a family?"
"Yeah... no family."
"Oh I am sorry. Have... Have you been living on the streets for long?" Falcon said.
"No, not long. What about you?"
Falcon gave a heavy regretful sigh. "For as long as I can remember, I have been living on the streets for my whole damn life... It has been hard."
"How do you do it?" John asked curiously
"Well living all by yourself anywhere, is tough, especially on the street, so I joined a gang first chance I got. Yes I know, gangs are supposed to be bad right? But they look after one of their own... let's just say I owe them a lot."
"So do you think I could join?" John asked, he needed all the help he could get.
Falcon gave him a thoughtful look, "I guess... I could put a good word for you in with the Boss."
"Could you?"
"Yeah. Why not. I was actually heading back home before I found you... now, if you'd care to join me, you could ask the boss yourself, Boss usually isn't that picky when it comes to new recruits"
John smiled, "Great!"
"Uh Huh... don't get your hope up to quickly, living on the street is still a tough life." Falcon stated as he walked away. John caught up and walked beside him. "You know you're going to need a last name so we don't have any mix ups... there are more Johns than you could imagine."Falcon stated as a fact.
"Oh umm... I don't know... what would be a good last name?" John asked.
Falcon stoped walking and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a round medallion and threw it at John. John caught the glistening object and held it to his face, the word 'SHEPARD' was engraved onto it. "I found it on the man that attacked you... still don't know what it means... but hey."
"Shepard." John whispered, there was something strangely familiar about the word, or was it a name? "John Shepard" he tested the sound of it, "John Shepard" he repeated a little louder. It had a certain ring about it. He liked it. He turned to Falcon who was still waiting patiently for him to come out of his thoughts.
"So how bout it?" Falcon asked, "John Shepard... Member of the 10th street Reds."
"10th street reds? Is that the name of your gang?" John curiously asked.
"Yeah"
Falcon began walking again, leading Shepard through the maze of streets and side passages. The group had been walking for a while when suddenly Falcon stopped in front of a large derelict warehouse, It looked like twenty first century design. "Here it is... home" Falcon gestured towards the large unwelcoming building. Falcon must have seen the look on Johns face because he quickly added, "Keeps your head out of the rain." Falcon then nodded and continued to pace towards the building.
Falcon and John both got to the door, a large wooden and metal framed one, with two shattered windows. Falcon brought his fist to bear on the door three times in what sounded like a pass code or something.
"YO FALCON BRO... THAT YOU?" asked a thick voice behind the door.
"YEAH MAN... OPEN UP." Falcon replied.
The door was swung open inwards, from the other side. There standing in the arch was a big mean looking ethnic boy with a red leather jacket similar to Falcons, except it seemed to bludge out more.
"Whats this?" the boy asked Falcon directing his gaze at John.
Falcon put his arm around John's shoulders, "This is John Shepard... He wants to join the gang."
"Boss always likes new faces... you take him in and show him to Boss." The boy said as he stepped out of the way of Falcon and John letting them past into the building.
Falcon lead the way through the seemingly derelict building, seemingly because it was in fact filled with boys and girls hurrying around the place like a swarm of angry ants, in red leather jackets. It was a stark contrast between his father's apartment.
They passed a room full of guns and ammunition, this caught John by surprise. "Just in case of rival gangs" Falcon said coolly as they passed.
The pair, after walking the length of the building, found themselves in a small yet oddly spacious room. There sitting in the middle of the room was a rather fat, big boned boy, he had flaps of skin around his neck that sagged towards his chest, his skin was a pale greasy white with the occasional zit here and there. The boys eyes were so sunk back into his skull that it made him look like a zombie rather than a living breathing being. He was adorned with many chains and rings, which ony seemed to make him look fatter. And then there was the smell, a putrid reeking corpse would have smelt like daisies compared to it, there was no words to describe the humid smell that seemed to stick to you.
John's eyes watered, and his stomach churned. Falcon seemed unfazed, probably because he was more used to it by now.
The fat boy took a long laboured breath, "FALCON" He greeted in a high squeaky voice, that didn't match his appearance. "who have you brought with you?"
"A new recruit boss" Falcon answered.
"Hmmmm... he looks like a weed... What's your name?" he asked John.
"John"
A deep squeaky laugh erupted from the fat boy, "John... another john... what's your last name?"
"Shepard"
The fat boy took another long laboured breath before speaking. "You shall be known as Sheppard then by us... Shepard of the 10th street reds."
"Thank you... Boss"
"That's alright lad... go say hello to your new family" the fat boy waved him off.