Bakura drove past the front of the building as slowly as he dared without calling attention to himself. Rook City definitely wasn't the sort of place where average people stopped and got out on random corners. He could've sworn he'd seen a prostitute climb into the front seat of a police car a few blocks back. Fortunately Bakura's car was a cheap pile of scrap that had barely cost more than his rent. If they'd been on Marik's glossy Suzuki they might have had more than Marik's evil twin to worry about. He vaguely wished he could've convinced Marik to ditch the gold bangles, but Marik had pointed out that they might protect his arms if it came down to a knife fight and promised to keep his sleeves pulled down.
At least three sides of the lot were surrounded by a chain link fence with plastic panels that made it hard to see inside. The back of the lot was hidden by a row of defunct buildings that might have been a strip mall a long time ago. As Bakura cased the area, he decided if Marik's worse half was staying here it must be coming and going from the alleys between those buildings. One looked wide enough to drive a car through. Keeping an eye out for anyone following them, he drove several feet into the alley and stopped the car.
He didn't even need to shake Marik awake. He was up and leaning between the front seats as soon as the engine shut off. "Are we there?"
"I think so." Bakura reached under the passenger seat and pulled out two switch blades. He secured them to his forearms and pulled his sleeves down over them. Two more each went in one sock. "I need to check ahead. Mind the car."
Marik frowned, but he watched Bakura exit the car and approach the fence at the end of the alley without commenting. Sometimes the other man's bossiness grated on him, but he was too happy that he wasn't doing this alone to really care. They'd both done bad shit. Bakura didn't judge him, silently or otherwise. Marik needed that. Things had never been quite the same with his siblings since he'd tried to kill everyone.
He wasn't like Ryou or Bakura, manipulated by the machinations of Zorc. He'd created his own monstrous tulpa, and then he'd let that monster confuse and manipulate him. He had done so much damage from the cage of Marik's mind that Marik was terrified of what a physical manifestation could have done to sweet, soft, eager-to-please Ryou in even just the two weeks he'd had him. Marik wanted to get in there now, now, now! So maybe it was a good thing he had Bakura to put on the brakes and force him to think.
Bakura approached the plastic panel with light steps. He could tell from a distance that it didn't sit like the ones attached to the fence in front. Testing it, he found the corners secured to the flanking posts by hastily twisted bits of wire. He stretched to reach the cross bar at the top and hoisted himself up to peak over. He found the crumbling remains of a weedy parking lot. Some of the building's windows were missing boards, but the interior was too dark to see much. The rear entrance appeared accessible, but they'd have to cross a stretch of open space to reach it. There was also a whole section of chain link removed from the space behind the plastic panel, maybe large enough to drive through if he moved it. He pressed his lips together and returned to the car.
He opened the driver's door and slid behind the wheel, closing the door for safety. Better to be caught ready to book it than bending over talking to Marik. Pale fingers drummed on the steering wheel. "Didn't Ryou say it brought him here in a van?"
"I think so," Marik said.
Bakura nodded slowly. "I didn't see a van. Would it have the presence of mind to hide something like that?"
"He was never stupid, but..." Marik forced an optimistic smile. "We can hope he went out for something and left Ryou all alone in there."
Bakura snorted. "You aren't nearly that lucky, Marik." He had to assume that Marik's demon was in there. So what next? Wait a couple hours for the sun to set so that they could sneak across the parking lot under the cover of night, or go in now so that they didn't have to rely so heavily on their flashlights to see? Did it sleep?
"You spend way too much time thinking, Bakura," Marik groused. "Let's go already!"
The longer they sat out here, the more likely they were to attract trouble. Bakura sighed. "Fine. But don't be reckless."
Marik exited the vehicle and opened the trunk. He zipped his leather jacket and hooked his flashlight onto a chest pocket. They'd gotten a small backpack that fit close to his back so he could squeeze through tight spaces without getting stuck. He gripped the crowbar with both hands. He'd wanted to smash his tulpa's stupid, grinning teeth out for a long time. Not so easy when it was part of him. Now he actually could.
Bakura sheathed a large hunting knife at his lower back and hid it under his clothes. Then he tied his silver mane in a low ponytail that he tucked in the back of his shirt. He chose not to wear a backpack at all. He didn't want anything to get in the way of reaching for his weapon. He double checked that the bags of sand in his pockets were easily accessible. It was one of his favorite tricks when it came to dirty fighting. Tucking in the front of his shirt, he clipped his flashlight to his belt.
The pair approached the fence together. Bakura held out his hand. "Wire cutters."
Marik reached behind himself, fumbled in the front pocket of the bag, and passed the tool off to Bakura. The ex-thief popped the lower right corner of the plastic sheet free and pulled it back. Staying low, he peered through the gap to search the windows one more time. Still nothing. The rear entrance had an overhang that would offer partial cover if they could reach it. "Move fast."
Watching over Bakura's shoulder, Marik nodded. The two ran across the parking lot and flattened themselves against the wall on either side of the door. They paused and listened. Nothing. Marik readied the crowbar for a swing. Bakura tested the door. It popped open with a soft squeal.
Light flooded the inner lobby. To the left, a large empty room sprawled behind a broken glass door. The shadows were thick, but Bakura didn't see any shadows that looked solid. Across from them, a broken, powerless elevator next to a short hall with at least two more doors that they could see before it disappeared around the corner. To the right, a stairwell with a missing door.
The last Marik had heard, the monster was holding Ryou hostage on one of the upper floors. Bakura tiptoed toward the stairs. Marik moved back-to-back with him, watching the other doors. The pool of light at Bakura's feet illuminated something dark and crusty at the foot of the steps. Bloody footprints. Old bloody footprints. Bakura traced them up the stairs with the flashlight. He elbowed Marik lightly in the ribs and pointed up. Marik bit his lip and they both ascended.
The amount of blood that it must have taken to make tracks like this alarmed Marik. He tried to read his companion's expression through the shadows, but Bakura seemed as stony and solemn as ever. Alert, yes, but otherwise calm. Marik took a deep breath and forced himself to stay focused on his environment. As much as he wanted to seek reassurance from Bakura, he didn't dare make any unnecessary noises.
The prints crossed the threshold of another broken door. The space beyond was much darker than Marik would have liked. Some of the units were closed, like the lids of sleeping giants. Others gaped open like hungry mouths. The aisles themselves were only wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side.
As they stared down the claustrophobic hall, Bakura paused and squeezed Marik's arm. When he felt the tensed muscles unbunch, he proceeded forward. They checked each open unit carefully as they passed, but they seemed to be alone. An oddly familiar smell hung in the air, mingled with the cool, dry dustiness of the place. It was sour. Sharp. Sulfury?
Rot, Bakura thought. Rotting meat.
He caught a glimpse of Marik's face as Marik slipped ahead. Apparently he'd recognized the smell, too, and he wore his worry plain as day. Bakura picked up the pace, trying to keep Marik in his line of sight as he continued checking possible hiding places for an attacker.
Marik and the footprints stopped outside a closed shutter. The blond knelt down to examine the device caught in his flashlight beam. Ryou's phone, or at least the smashed remains of it. The smell. It was much stronger here. Guilt, hate, denial, and desperation clogged his throat until he couldn't breath. He grabbed the handle and ripped the door open.
The metallic rumble bounded from wall to wall. Bakura flinched and drew a knife from his sleeve. His head darted left and right, trying to watch both ends of the aisle at the same time.
The smell punched Marik right in the gut. He covered his nose with his elbow and squinted inside. The flashlight beam found a familiar blue sneaker. Jeans and a t-shirt that would've been familiar if they weren't shredded and bloody. A pale hand protruding from a pile of Ryou's school books.
"Ryou!" Marik choked.
Bakura tried to grab Marik's backpack, but his fingers closed on empty air.
Marik dropped to his knees by the body and swept away the food wrappers, bottles, and notebooks. His eyes stung, but it wasn't because of the smell. He would pay for this! He would pay for throwing Ryou out in a pile of trash! In his flurry of emotion, he didn't register that the last piece of paper was duct taped to Ryou's face until he failed to remove it on his first attempt. He blinked back tears, focusing on what appeared to be writing.
I wish I could be there to see the look on your face, little thing. Your powerless rage always made me laugh. I couldn't resist one more little prank.
Marik focused on the body again. The blood-matted hair surrounding the head was platinum blond, closer to Marik's shade than Ryou's snowy white. Wrinkling his brow, he kept reading.
Tell the thief I'm actually quite thrilled with the exchange. Turns out he had the most delicious of all you little things this whole time. If he agrees not to follow us, I'm more than willing to let both of you go. If either of you insist on hunting us down, there will be a lot more death in your future.
Goodbye, little thing.
Tanned hands ripped the paper free. Lavender eyes scanned the message again, and again, and again, and... "Bakura..."
They'd already made so much noise that Bakura decided there was no point in staying silent. "What?" He didn't turn around, maintaining his defensive vigil.
"We're too- too late..."
Bakura hazarded half a glance over his shoulder. "Is that...?"
"They left. He took him again..."