Chapter 3: Losses and Gains
Izzy's heart was beating a thousand beats a minute. 'tha-thud, tha-thud' Sweat was dripping from his brow. 'Fuck! How could I let my guard down?' Izzy thought "Good-bye Izzy." Came a calm voice. He felt the coolness of the barrel against the side of his head. All he heard was a shot. Then black.
Sora bolted awake at the sound of a gun firing. She slowly stood up and grabbed a knife lying on the table next to her. She crept toward the door holding her breath. Peeking out the doorway she say two figures lying on the ground. 'what?' she thought. Then hearing a crunch of gravel spun quickly thrusting the knife in the direction of the noise. A figure quickly dodged it and grabbed on to her wrist. She looked at his face. She knew it. It was Matt. "Be quiet, I think there are some more." He whispered. "What happened?" she asked. "Tell you later." Matt led the way holding a .45. back to the wall he edged toward the main chamber. Swing the gun in front of him he scanned the room. As Sora ran toward the fallen Izzy Matt dashed to the entrance. He looked out. Under the moonlit night he saw a repulsor bike. Looking through his messed up hair he saw no one. He walked back to the bodies. One had a bullet wound through the head, clearly visible. Sora was bent over Izzy she turned his head sideways and saw only a tender cut. "He was knocked out." Sora said. "When I shot the assailant the force must have smashed the gun into his head, knocking him out." Matt said. They carried Izzy to a ledge as Sora wrapped his head up. Matt walked back to the body. "Moron." He muttered. Dragging the corpse outside he stopped at the bike and checked its identification.
~Mork Sibble~
Matt recognized his name as a bounty hunter. 'Well, well, well. Looks like the Blood Eagles have bounty hunters after us.' Matt smirked. 'Lazy asses' Matt pulled the bike into the bunker before he hit the sack. It had been a long 48 hours.
Izzy woke to the sound of grease sizzling on a stove. He moved his head and moaned. Gently he touched his wound. Then it finally hit him. 'I am not dead.' He blinked. Suddenly Matt's face appeared over his. "Morning." Matt said. As he continued walking to the kitchen area. Izzy sat up, swinging his feet over the rock bed he had slept on, and walked into the kitchen. Sora was sliding some sausage onto a plate next to pancakes. "Well I'm gonna go head out soon before the security markers are active." Matt said. Sora looked up, "don't get you're self killed." "I won't" Izzy grabbed a plate and sat down. Matt looked at Izzy and said, "And you just get better" Matt grabbed his belt, slipped his .45 in and walked toward the bike.
Cruising over the dunes of the desert he began to wonder how important Gorchov was, and if he was so important why didn't the B.E. already have T.K. after them. It made no sense to him. The thought left his mind as he mentally wrote down what he needed to get while in town. As the skyscrapers came into view he slowed to 'legal' speeds. As he was waiting to get through the checkpoint letting you into the city he pulled a cloak over himself. As he pulled up to the toll station he tossed his money in, not looking up, and drove away.
Inside the city he looked up at the old and dilapidated skyscrapers. 'This is where I used to live.' He thought. He slowed the bike when he reached the slums of the city. Glancing around he saw fires in the street with people surrounding it, garbage rolling down the street, and just a slum. There it was, a small black building, burnt down but rebuilt. He parked his bike and left it outside as he entered. The smoke filled room had only three inhabitants. Two standing in front of the bar and one behind it. They looked at him as he entered. His footsteps thudded on the concrete slab. "Whadda you want?" the bartender asked. Matt looked at him and said, "Munitions." The bartender leaned forward. "Password?" "Quartz" The bartender stood up and walked into a back room. Matt followed. In the back behind a stack of barrels of rum was a staircase leading down. The bartender grabbed a light and walked down them with Matt following. Once at the bottom Matt looked around. Piles and piles of guns and ammo. "So whadda you want?" the Bartender said with a smirk. Matt walked over inspecting the piles. He pulled out a M-16, loaded a clip, and slipped it over his shoulder. "See that bag?" Matt said pointing to the one in the corner, "fill it with .45, M-16, G-18 and shotgun rounds." The bartender looked at him. "You're not a local criminal." Matt smiled. "No." After pacing the basement Matt followed the bartender back up the stairs. Matt looked at the rest of the inhabitants of the bar. Rough drunks who had nothing better to do. But then again that's what most of the inhabitants of the city were. So paying the bartender he slung the bag over his shoulder and walked out. As he was walking toward his speeder he saw a head pop up from below the steering wheel and drive off with his speeder. 'Son of a bitch!' Matt ran after him. "Stop fucker!!" he yelled after him. Grabbing his .45 he shot off a couple bullets but missed. "Damnet"