Tab winced as a heavy skate connected with his stomach. He wasn't going to be able to hang on much longer.
What was I thinking? he wondered.
He never should have tried to find his way through the sewers. He hadn't been careful enough in the Tokyo Underground Sewage Facility, and somehow he had taken a wrong turn… and ended up in Bottom Point. Poison Jam's turf.
Poison Jam was a rollerskating, graffiti-spraying gang of bruisers who ruled the sewers, making their home in Bottom Point. They were huge, with grotesque masks and blue monster costumes, and were feared throughout the area. It was common knowledge that Poison Jam didn't like guests, and very few were foolish enough to travel through Bottom Point alone.
But Tab had had little choice.
After realizing where he was, he had been skating toward what he knew to be the exit of Bottom Point when Poison Jam had showed up and surrounded him. Being a rather small kid anyway, Tab couldn't put up much of a fight against the monsters that had captured him.
Poison Jam had dragged him to a walkway suspended over a river of sewer water. He was currently lying with his back to the metal railing, the safest position he could find at the moment. Blood was smeared on the walkway beneath him, all, of course, his own. He had lost sight in his left eye (temporarily, he hoped) and he was losing feeling in his right shoulder… which was a blessing in comparison to the pain in his ribs. He was sure something was broken, he just didn't know what. And in a few minutes, it wouldn't matter either way.
The apparent leader, the one the others called Shred, lifted Tab effortlessly by the front of his bloodied shirt. "Okay, kid. Ya got five seconds to explain to us what you're doin' trespassing here. Everyone knows Bottom Point here is Poison Jam's turf!"
Tab wasn't sure he could speak, and he didn't much care to try. It wouldn't make any difference in the last few minutes of his life, anyway. His fingers curled around the fists that held him in the air as he tried to keep from choking.
"Three… two…"
"He ain't gonna say anything," another of the monsters, Scrap, pointed out.
Shred released Tab. As gravity dictated, he fell straight down, his bruised body making painful contact with the rail… sending him toward the sewer water. He closed his eyes as he went, breathing a silent, grateful prayer. His skate, however, caught on the rail, leaving him dangling with his face inches away from the sewer water. If he fell in, he was dead: not only could he not swim, the weight of his skates would pull him under in mere seconds.
Poison Jam was laughing. "Lucky kid," commented the third, whose name was Shard. "What're the chances of that?"
"Don't matter," Shred snapped. "We'll get him this time." He was lumbering toward Tab when a voice halted him dead in his step.
"What do ya think you're doing?"
Tab heard all three members of Poison Jam turn toward the voice. Though he could see nothing, he was confused by the fact that the voice was distinctly feminine.
"How many times do I have to tell you, you morons?" the voice continued. "When you find an actual person, I want 'em brought straight to me! Now pull him up!"
Scrap moved to obey. Tab continued to listen as Shred argued feebly, "But he was trespassin' and we—"
"I don't care! I've told ya before, I'm not telling you again!"
Tab nearly cried out as he was pulled up, his foot twisting as it was freed from the rail. Scrap shoved him to the ground, from where he looked up at the apparent leader of the gang, relieved that vision was returning to his injured eye.
It was a girl, dressed completely in black: black hair, a black shirt that was perhaps a bit smaller than it should have been, and black pants that were perhaps a bit tighter than they should have been. Black skates with a red design were on her feet, blue lipstick covered her lips, and she had two tattoos, one on her upper left arm and one on her exposed stomach.
The girl seemed to be looking Tab over as well. Finally she said, "I'm sorry for the way my friends here treated you. My name's Cube. I'm the leader of Poison Jam. What's your name, kid?"
"Let me go," Tab managed to say, glancing up at the monsters on either side of him, "and I might consider tellin' ya."
"Fair enough," Cube answered. She motioned to Scrap and Shard, and they stepped away to join Shred. Tab tried unsuccessfully to stand.
"So…" Cube began, watching in amusement as Tab grabbed the rail and pulled himself up. "Are ya gonna tell me your name?"
Tab was wondering how long he'd be able to stand. "Depends… is there any reasonable alternative?"
Cube smiled. "Only if ya like swimming and aren't affected by toxic waste."
"I suppose you can call me Tab, then," Tab muttered, trying to decide whether he had the strength to run.
"Tab." Cube considered the word. "Well, then, Tab, would you mind telling me what you're doing on my turf?"
"I didn't realize it was yours," Tab said, a slow, spiteful grin crossing his face. "To be honest, I thought all this graffiti here was just some fool's idea of a nice paint job. I was never informed that it belonged to the great and mighty… what was your name again?"
Cube's eyes narrowed and her pale face flushed with anger. Turning to her three underlings, she brought her right hand up and made a slashing motion across her throat. As she skated off, she told Tab without turning, "You ain't gonna live to regret that, kid."
Tab looked around for an escape route, but Scrap and Shard had quickly moved in front of the two exits, leaving Shred to deal with Tab. Tab closed his eyes, slid back down against the rail, and crossed his arms over his face.
"Yo, Cube!"
The sudden shout was so startling that Cube, on her way out, nearly tripped. The three Poison Jam monsters froze in place. Tab lowered his arms and opened his eyes. All five people present looked around for the owner of the new voice. They did not have to wait for long.
A girl skated into the small room from the corridor Cube had intended to leave through. Cube backed up, trying to get behind one of her underlings, but she wasn't quick enough; soon two more girls had entered the room, surrounding the leader of Poison Jam.
Tab stared at the newcomers. All three wore the same outfit: black jeans, dark purple sleeveless shirts with a bright yellow lightning bolt seeming to split down the front, black-and-yellow skates, and black lipstick. Each had a different style to their collectively black hair: one wore it in a half-ponytail just past her shoulders, one wore it in a long braid past her knees, and the third wore it loose and short, not quite to her shoulders. The one who seemed to be the leader, the one with the half-ponytail, stepped forward and addressed Cube.
"What are you doing to that kid?" she demanded.
"He insulted me," Cube returned, "and he's paying the price for it."
"You haven't got any right to do that," the girl pointed out.
"Get to the point," the girl with the braid said impatiently.
Poison Jam stood motionless, unsure of what to do. Tab had been slipping further and further into sleep throughout the unfriendly conversation, and finally he gave up and lost consciousness altogether.
"Very well," the leader of the new gang said. "Cube, if you can't come up with a good reason for attacking that kid, why don't you take a shot at explaining why you can't stay on your own turf."
"Kibogaoka is mine," Cube insisted.
"If you want it, Cube," the short-haired girl taunted, "ya gotta come and take it straight from us, face-to-face, like the woman you wish you were."
At this the three monsters started forward, but Cube halted them with a raised hand, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment and anger.
"Is that a challenge?" she demanded, her voice lower than usual.
"I dare say it is," confirmed the girl with the braid.
"Name your contest," Cube told them, the anger in her voice changing to confidence.
"A race," the leader replied readily. "On the conditions that one of us'll race you around Bottom Point. The other two of us, as well as your three goons, will stay right here and wait. If you win, Kibogaoka's all yours. If we win, you stay outta our turf as well as allow us safe passage through the Sewage Facility. And," she glanced over at the unconscious Tab, "the kid there goes free." Her gaze returned to her rival. "The stakes are high, Cube. Think you're up to it?"
"You're gonna regret this, Tip," Cube growled.
"Possibly," Tip admitted, her voice steady. "But I doubt it."
"You're on," Cube snapped. "Which of you dares to challenge me?"
The girl with the braid stepped forward. "Can I do this one, Tip?"
Tip shrugged. "Fine with me, if you're sure you actually want to help a guy. What do you think, Spark?"
The short-haired girl, Spark, smiled. "Cat's never lost at a race," she pointed out.
Cat said nothing and blushed.
"We're depending on you," Tip informed her. "I'll call 'go,' if no one cares. Get ready… get set…"
Cat leaned forward, making sure not to let her skates slide. Beside her, Cube had taken a runner's position.
"Go!"
Both girls took off, Cat taking an early lead when Cube bumped into the rail as she tried to grind on it. Spark watched until they turned the corner, taking to the sharp, dangerous twists and turns of the pipes. Once they had disappeared from sight, she turned to Tip, but her friend seemed to be gone.
Tip waved from her place by Tab's side. "Over here, Spark," she called, and Spark skated over to join her.
"Dude, they beat him up pretty good. Is he gonna be okay?" Spark asked, sitting back on her heels.
Tip shrugged. "He's got a fairly steady pulse, but I think he's got a broken rib or two. Though it's not like I know the first thing 'bout this kind of stuff." She looked curiously at the bruised face of this strange boy, running her hand through his blonde hair, which stuck out from under his hat. "I don't think I've ever seen him before… do you?"
Spark shook her head. "I sure wonder where he's from, and where he was going… and why he came through here."
"It must've been important for him to come through Bottom Point," Tip thought out loud. "Especially alone. Everyone knows how dangerous it is."
"You'd think so," Spark agreed. "How do ya figure Cat's doing?"
"Same as always, I'm sure," Tip replied. "I just hope she hurries and doesn't joke around… We need to get this kid out of here as soon as possible."