AN: Hey guys, here's chapter 2. I forgot to mention it last time but there will be a new chapter every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Thanks for reading and if you have questions/comments don't be afraid to leave a review. Anyhow, I hope y'all enjoy the chapter:
"I told you to get the hell out!" the man with the knife brandished it threateningly.
"Ok," I held up my hands, considering my options "it's ok, I'm just going to…"
I looked back at the poor bastard pinned to the wall, "I'll just be…" it's like he's begging for help
Looks like Mr. high and mighty is about to leave a man in need, what happened to justice?
It's times like this I wish that the Walrider was actually solid enough to take a swing at.
"Get out!" the mugger yelled again.
"Ok, look," I spoke in spite of myself "I don't want to get in a fight, I don't think you do either" I didn't have time for this, and I sure as hell didn't have the patience.
Just as the mugger opened his mouth to speak, the man on the wall choked out a word:
"H-h-help."
While the mugger was distracted by the man's struggle I took a step forward, only to have the criminal strike out. Knife in hand, he swung wildly. Moving to block I raised an arm. The blade hit home and left a deep gash in my forearm. I recoiled. The look on the mugger's face said he surprised himself.
Not that I cared.
Though it caught me off guard, the fact of the wound on my arm didn't take long to sink in. On autopilot I took another step forward, the mugger started slashing wildly, yelling something unintelligible. I just held my arm up to catch the blows. Half a dozen steps and as many wounds later I'd backed the thief into a wall.
"You know, I didn't want to start my day like this" I said, only for there to be no reply from any of the men in the alley, "so why don't you just leave, give back whatever you stole, and I'll forget that you tried to turn my arm into hamburger meat"
I held up my ribboned arm to emphasize my point. Not a drop of blood flowed from it, thanks to the Walrider. Apparently the effect was enough to unhinge the criminal.
"Fuck that!" he screamed right before driving the pocket knife into my arm deep enough for the blade to get stuck.
Recoiling from the pain, I had just enough time to swing my other fist at the man. My hand made contact with his left temple, his grip on the knife loosened, and he fell unconscious to the ground.
After I made sure he wasn't getting back up any time soon the full pain of a stab wound to the forearm hit me.
"Ah, son of a bitch!"
Sounds like somebody could use my help.
Cut the crap.
Only if you ask nicely.
"Oh my god, are you ok?" The man who I'd helped ran up to me without a second glance to his attacker on the ground.
"Ya, I feel just wonderful" I told him through gritted teeth.
I'm still waiting on the polite request.
"I know first aid, I can help, let me see the wound. Wait no, put pressure on it. Holy crap I need to call an ambulance!" the guy started working himself into a panic.
Fine. Be like that. Would you ever so kindly stop me from feeling enough pain in my arm to knock a grown man out cold.
I don't know…
"My phone's out of battery. We need a phone. And the police, I just got mugged! You're dieing!"
I'm done playing, just fix the pain.
You're no fun.
As the blinding pain faded, the man continued to babble on.
"ok, whatever you do, don't take the knife out. or should you move it? I don't remember…"
"Calm down"
"What! No, we need a doctor, and the cops, and-and" he was panting at this point
"It's fine" I mumbled to myself while prying the knife from my arm.
"Oh my god! Don't do that! Holy hell, stop! stop!"
By the time he stopped yelling at me I'd already pulled out the bloody weapon and tossed it to the ground. Looking back up I found the guy hyperventilating and leaning against the brick wall.
Aren't you so happy you took the time to play the hero? It's paying off so well.
I looked back at the sad pile of person.
If we slowly murdered the mugger in front of him I wonder if he would have a mental break down.
Save it for Murkoff.
Brushing off the Walrider's suggestions I walked over to the guy.
"Hey, I'm ok. You're ok, everything's fine" I gave the guy a pat on the shoulder, he didn't respond "...ya, you're fine." I was doing a sparkling job of cheering him up.
After a moment he finally calmed down, well he stopped breathing hard enough to inflate a kiddy pool in less than twenty seconds at least.
"Know what? let's get out of the alley, that's probably a good idea." I tried my best to get him to move.
He didn't say a word, and for a second I thought he might be in shock. Then,
"You're ok?! Oh…. it was only a matter of time until someone got hurt, that guy was insane! And this is the third time this week I've been mugged, you didn't need to help. Are you bleeding? Let me see your arm!"
He grabbed my sliced up arm without pausing to hear my response.
"whoa, wait. It's not bleeding, how is-"
"You've been robbed three times?" I changed the subject while pulling my arm from his hands.
"It's ok, I have a decoy wallet."
I just looked at him for a minute. "You… ok. Well, you have a nice day" I turned to leave. I had gotten half way out of the alley when what's-his name caught up to me.
"But, thanks anyway you know." he took a nervous glance back "shouldn't we call the cops on him?"
"We aren't doing anything" I told him as I continued down the street.
"Oh, ok. I'm Carl, by the way" he held out his hand for a shake.
"Miles" I didn't return the gesture.
Carl began to babble as we walked. Despite the street being empty, he made enough noise to fool anyone into thinking we were in times square.
It's not too late to just kill him and walk away
He's just an annoying twenty something, that's not a death sentence.
But he might shriek. Not just scream, but give a really high pitch shriek. Do you have any idea how long it's been since anyone has shrieked in terror?
Not wanting to even dignify that with a response I tuned back into Carl's babbling.
"...don't want to talk about that, do you? Anyway, what about that thing that's on the news. You know? That thing, with that company? The CEO's on trial in town, things that big never happen around here, it's always in DC or New York, you know?"
I must of been holding my breath, because by the time he stopped talking I found myself needing to breath.
"I know a thing or two about that."
"That's some crazy shit, am I right? Like there was that one guy, with the camera, he worked there. What was his name? Anyway, they're still looking for him."
"Waylon?"
"ya, that's his name. You know they had to have done something to him, right? I mean, after something like that gets out you know that company- Murkoff, that's it- must have been crazy pissed off."
I started to ignore him, I'd heard this conversation play out a couple dozen times, though I hadn't actually been part of one.
Carl droned on about everything that the news outlets had already been saying for months. The first moments after Waylon's death played over again in my mind.
I'd been in the car, driving Connor and Garret away from that place. The last word that had been said was Connor saying that I was "dad's friend". I wasn't sure if he was asking me or reminding himself, either way I answered:
"I sure am."
The half-lie felt bitter coming out of my throat.
"Good" Connor said back to me before curling into a small ball in the back seat.
From the rear-view I could also see Garret huddling against the door, unlike Connor he didn't stare at the floor boards in defeat, but instead looked frantically around and shivered slightly.
"Garret" I said as softly as I could.
He flinched at his name.
"It's ok. We're leaving there."
He didn't say anything back, not that I could blame him. There was no way he was a day past twelve and I was some big scary guy covered in blood and who knew what else. Never mind what had just happened.
I drove for nearly thirty minutes until I realized I had no idea where I should be going. Waylon had obviously been in California, Chealsy was probably there too. Where exactly was anybody's guess. I flipped the radio onto a low volume, a talk show was on. The mindless droning of a talk show always helped me calm down, I hoped that some noise would make the boys a little more comfortable too.
The dull weather forecast preoccupied my time as mountains and desert passed. It was all smooth sailing, until the actual talk show began.
"Now back to what we were saying before the brake. So, Steve, you're involved with a bunch of big business and that sort of thing, what do you think this information about the Murkoff corporation means for the economy?"
That caught my attention.
"Well," a different voice began, probably Steve "Murkoff holds a large sector of the private market in, well, in a lot of areas, and this footage is goi-"
"Footage?" I found myself saying.
Without thinking much I pulled over and stepped on the brake. One of the boys whimpered from the back.
The first voice to have been talking continued on, "Right, and not only that, but it's pretty obvious that there was some absolutely brutal human experimentation going on. And… it looks like our call line is lighting up. We will be playing your messages right here -on Talk 260- in thirty seconds. to leave a message call-"
I didn't listen for the number.
That was the moment I'd learnt that Waylon had done it. He and Chealsy had gotten the film out to the public. We'd won! A small grin started to spread across my face as I pulled back onto the empty desert road. He'd done it!
I took a glance into my rearview and caught sight of Connor and Garret again.
The surge of excitement faltered. This was the biggest story I'd ever had my hands on, not to mention the one that needed to be told the most, but people had died. Good people had died, and two children had lost their parents.
I remember the voice messages being played over the radio. Most were shocked, a few were angry. None of them were shocked or angry enough though.
Just like this Carl guy wasn't interested enough to be able to carry on a conversation about the topic.
While I had drifted out he'd kept talking.
"...the whole thing's kind of crazy, don't you think?"
I didn't look over at him. It took me a second to remind myself that he wouldn't understand half the things I had to say.
"The whole thing is mound of corporate bullshit if you ask me."
There must have been something in my voice, because when Carl replied he did it with the same caution one would use when they were approaching a stray dog.
"Oh, it's not personal to you, is it?"
"You could say that" even I could hear the edge in my voice.
We walked another block before I realized that I was acting like an asshole with something to hide, to make up for it I tried to change the subject, "but hey, who wants to talk about that. Where are you headed to?"
Carl seemed thankful for the change of topic.
"To my grams house, I visit every Tuesday"
"I'm sure she enjoys that"
"ya, sometimes we play bingo on the weekends too."
"Good for you."
I didn't say much else before we parted ways, eventually I had to take a turn where he needed to go strait. After saying goodbye I got to enjoy the quiet for a whole ten seconds before the Walrider started up again.
You've managed to make this walk twice as long as it needed to be, I hope you're proud.
Actually, I am. It's been a whole month since I at least pretended to be nice.
All I got in reply was an annoyed buzz.
Ok, go and pout. Come back when you want to act like an ancient cosmic force instead of a brat teenager.
The buzzing got louder.