Chapter Nine
Rubble Rabble
Nack placed one hand against the fox child's torso, keeping her curious eyes from peaking past their hiding place behind the rubble that had accumulated. His shotgun was in his hand, finger cautiously gripping at the trigger as they watched the passing park goers. Behind them sat Bark and Bean, the latter surprisingly quiet for once as they all patiently waited for the chaos to die down. Now definitely wasn't the time to hightail it—there were too many officers milling the area and Nack would bet dollar to dime that the face of every Hooligan was in their databases. Being seen wasn't an option.
Besides, he knew that the cops weren't the only threat here.
Jeb the Tusk was a durable bastard. Everyone who met him had either figured it out right off the bat, or learned it the hard way. Not much could take him down. While a massive explosion followed by piles of pile of metal and glass was a good start, Nack couldn't help but feel his doubts. The only reason he had gotten away from Jeb way back when was because he had a head start. Right now, though…
He groaned and collapsed against the hard damaged metal shielding them from sight. Several of the support beams had come crashing down thanks to Bean's explosives and two of them had cluttered by a rather large rock below, forming something of a sanctuary for the Hooligans to huddle under. Even Bark's mass could fit in the small space. The weasel could only hope it would provide them shelter until the police forces left the scene.
Just in time for the wolverine to come sniffing for them, he supposed. While he couldn't be assured that Jeb was dead (he wasn't either way), the sight of a screeching wolverine on a stretcher being pushed into an ambulance let the weasel KNOW that he still would have to contend with Svetlana Vasin related troubles. Not for a long time, though—her arm was visibly broken and blood seemed to cover her entire muzzle. Several shards of glass seemed to be embedded in her leg.
It was a sheer miracle that the wolverine could talk at all with the red she was coughing up with her words. Nack had to be impressed, at least. Any other mercenary would've been killed by that kind of blow. But here was Svetlana, alive and swearing violently at paramedics—even taking an occasional swat at them for the apparent crime of trying to help her wounds. Crazy killer survived, plenty of good people hurt in the process. What a world.
Nack bit down on an unlit cigar; he supposed he had no room to talk. There was very little difference between Svetlana and himself. Far as he could tell, the only real difference at the moment was that he had won and she had lost. They were both cutthroat, manipulative, greedy jerks who took a sort of sadistic pleasure in how their work screwed over others. His sharp teeth ground down harder against the wrapped nicotine. Something about that didn't sit well with him—not the cutthroat part, not the manipulative part, not even the greedy part. Just somehow sharing so much in common with Svetlana felt point blank insulting.
A small hand placed on his arm; the mercenary turned to look at the distressed eyes of the little girl in his care. Hesitantly her fingers pulled him away from the fiasco outside. His eyes darted up to the bear and duck crammed in the far corner of the metal rods—Bean was smiling wildly as usual, but Bark looked uncomfortable being jammed in such a small space. Nack groaned and scooted away from the entryway to sit aside the rest of the Hooligans. The sirens were already dying down, but it didn't hurt to be safe. There probably wouldn't be a chance to make a run for another few hours.
"…What now?" Bean voiced all of their concerns, albeit in a cheerful chirpy tone. Nack groaned and bit harder down on his cigar, finally cutting through the nicotine stick with his large fang. Pulling it out of his mouth, he glanced over it, then shrugged and threw it to the side. All eyes were still on him. Why these idiots looked to him for guidance in situations like this, he wasn't sure.
"What now, indeed." He mused, resting his cheek in his hand. Fingers drummed idly against the white muzzle, currently stained with gunpowder and blood. A quick glance showed him that the rest of them were in no better shape—Bean's feathers were stained a burnt black color on the tips with his ascot almost burnt off, Bark fur was smattered with chunks of wood and blood from security guards, and Stella's pristine pink peacoat was hanging from her arm to reveal a singed and filthy purple dress. Hair normally tied precisely behind her head now fell around her head in disarray, and the child seemed to have a black eye.
Nack sighed and gestured to Bark—the polar bear reached forward and grasped Stella around the waist, dragging her over to sit on his lap as he looked over the bruise forming around the girl's eye. She winced slightly as the large mercenary's head prodded around her face to find the extent of the damage. Normally health wouldn't be a concern, as the Hooligans were fairly durable, but it was different when faced with a seven year old girl. Especially one that was a lucrative client.
They were durable. She wasn't.
Nack pulled off his hat and pulled out a small box, no larger than his palm. He quietly popped open the cap to reveal a collection of small bandages and gauze, carefully arranged to fit within the compartment, and gestured to the girl to hold out her arm. Biting back a moan of pain, Stella extended her arm to showcase the visible burn marks once covered by the pastel peacoat. The weasel clicked his tongue in reprimand and tore off a strip of gauze with his larger tooth.
"What now. That's an important question." Nack mumbled as he wrapped the fox's arm. Despite obviously biting back pain, Stella seemed very alert—icy blue eyes were focused intently on the weasel. They all knew what this really meant. With Jeb missing and Svetlana out of reach, they had officially hit a dead end. Though even if Jeb was alive, he probably wouldn't be planning to help them.
Nack grimaced; he should have KNOWN that stupid pig was going to screw them over. He felt like a complete idiot; how could he have NOT guessed that she would recruit him? It was all that Jeb ever did. Once Svetlana entered the picture, the beast of a man was like putty in her hands. And considering how much Svetlana hated Nack, it should have been a given to him that the Hooligans would end up tangling with the wolverine's ex-husband.
"Boy, look at him beat himself up." Bean commented. Nack looked up to the bird incredulously, hands stilling around the gauze wrapped burn. "And about just about nothin', to top it off. You really need to take some chill pills, Tooth."
"The hell do you mean, NOTHING?" Nack hissed, trying to keep his voice down. He was going to try and elude the police even if Bean wasn't planning on contributing. "We got cornered in an AMUSEMENT PARK, of all places, and had to blow the entire walkway out in order to not die! Oh, but why? Because we're being followed by two of the most bloodthirsty, vengeful mercenaries who sure as hell ain't gonna go down with something that simple! That ain't enough? One of those assholes is the only one who can get us the information we need, and now she's in the hospital!"
"Isn't that a good thing?" Stella interjected. Nack stared at her blankly and the girl shrugged, tugging the gauze from his hand to finish wrapping around her arm. "Well, isn't it? If she's hurt, then Svetlana can't come after us. And even if she DOES see us, she can't do anything. I saw. Her shooting arm is broken."
"…You sayin' what I think you're sayin', tinkertoys?" Nack questioned. Stella just peered to the side innocently.
"Well, I mean, it would just be impolite to not visit such a dedicated friend in the hospital…" The fox shrugged. "…and maybe we could do well to ask her a question or two about my parents. That's all."
"…You're a wicked, wicked child, you know that?" Nack chuckled, stuffing the gauze and band aids back into the box from his hat. Slapping it back on his head, he arranged it with careful precision and peaked back out past the fallen metal beams—the fray was beginning to die down, although there were several cops still milling around. Nack gestured Bean and Bark forward; they shuffled forward awkwardly to stand in the shadow of the fallen beam.
"What's up, Tooth?" Bean chirped. Nack rolled his eyes; the duck always seemed to need a word in between. It wasn't worth complaining about it anymore.
"You and Bark are going to go out ahead of us. Your role is injured park patrons. Say you were here on a date or something, I don't care. I'm sure you'll pass for it." Nack snorted as Bark scowled at him. Bean just let out a tittering laugh under his breath, clutching tightly to Bark's arm. "Stella and I will follow after you. Stella, you're my kid, or niece, or something. I don't care what the hell it is. Just pick something."
"I'd go with niece. I don't think anyone would believe that kid is yours." Bean quipped; Nack smacked the bird across the head. "Hell, maybe you should try for step-niece, or niece twice removed, or something."
"Bean, I swear to god…"
"Maybe even like, adopted daughter. Because geez, she's a fox and you're a weasel, and look at her! She's like a button, she's so cute! And you're like…ooh, did I go too far?" Bean prattled on; Bark had already grabbed the bird and thrown him over his shoulder to slide out from their hiding spot. The pair strode into the crowd of remaining panicked pedestrians, disappearing into the distance quickly. Nack simply watched after them, exasperation and exhaustion painted visibly on his face.
There was a tug on his glove; he looked down to see Stella wrapping both hands around his with uncertainty in her eyes and a shaky smile on her face. With a deep sigh he returned the loose smile and pushed forward out of their shelter. The fox girl followed after him, hand clutched firmly in the older mercenary's. They pushed through the remaining crowds with Nack's eyes firmly planted on every police official crossing their path.
"Stella. Don't cling so hard." Nack snapped. "You're stepping on my feet."
"A-ah, sorry, I just don't want to get lost…"
"You ain't gettin' lost." He muttered; Stella pushed closer to the purple weasel and almost tripped over his boots.
Nack groaned in irritation and then fell down to a crouching position. Arms extended backwards, beckoning at the girl behind him. Hesitantly she climbed into the open arms and was promptly hefted onto his back with a muted yelp from the fox. Spindly legs extended from under Nack's arms, her peacoat balanced on his shoulder and her fluffy white tail covering up his forked purple one. Pink gloves grabbed at the cowboy hat on his head, pulling it back over her dark locks. Her typically springy ears drooped under the brim.
"Won't recognize you this way, right?" She muttered, adjusting her tail further to block off the unusual kink in the mercenary's tail. He didn't reply; he simply quietly made a beeline for the entrance of the park. His posture slackened the closer they got to the exit. Most of the officers were stationed by the walkway that they had so conveniently blown up—the further away Nack was from those bastards, the better. He didn't need to be back in prison so soon.
"Excuse me."
They both froze.
An officer stood aside them, hand firmly planted on the gun in his holster and a devastating glare locked on the pair. He held out his free hand to them and cocked an eyebrow when the weasel and fox deliberately held their place with confusion written in their eyes. The tall man shook his head and moved forward, cupping Stella's back to push her higher up on the mercenary's back and guide them in a different direction.
"I know its probably confusing with all this rubble, but you're heading to the wrong exit. The north exit got blown out by a chain reaction. We're evacuating out the west exit." He explained somberly. Both Nack and Stella slackened considerably and the officer smiled at the little girl. "No need to worry, kiddo. We're gonna figure out exactly what happened and ruined your day at the park."
"Yeah, I'll just bet you will." Nack muttered, hoisting the girl up so she could rest her burnt arm on his head. The officer watched in thinly veiled confusion as the two animals took off towards the other entrance, then shrugged, returning to the rest of civilians milling around in confusion.
"That was close." Stella commented.
"Too close. We need out of here before one of these idiots actually recognizes me. Can only hope that dumb and dumber made it to the right exit… but knowing them they probably just blew a new exit in the wall." Nack groaned. Stella giggled, lowering the hat on her head down to conceal her amusement. The look of laughter shifted to one of horror quickly, hands wrapping around Nack's ears to pull the weasel back. "OW! What the hell, kid?!"
"LOOK." She hissed, pointing at the west exit ahead of them. Nack followed her finger and his eyes widened.
Standing at the side of the west exit, covered in debris and blood with his leg propped up in a handmade splint, was Jeb the Tusk.
