The Girl From the Middle of Somewhere
Part 11
The Resurgence
"BOOM! Headshot!"
The shot struck through the trees and made a sizeable on its target's forehead. The rider fell down, dead, as his companions cried out in surprise, drawing their weapons and trying to find the assailant. A bright light flashed somewhere far away, highly visible in the dark forest, but further investigation revealed that the assassin had been long gone by the time they made it to the spot. The men looked at each other with grim faces. Another high-ranking syndicate member had fallen to the mysterious sniper.
It had been seven months since the fateful day when Kinessa left the Sentinels. Journey with Maeve had been one with few words, but a lot of action. The first four days had been the hardest. That's when they first noticed their pursuers, the legendary Hunter squad. It seemed like the army was reluctant to let a highly-skilled elite soldier escape unsupervised out into the world, and thus dispatched their most effective unit to hunt her down. For the escapees, that meant a lot of crawling in the bushes, constructing makeshift shelters and giving up on eating and sleeping almost entirely. Those long days culminated in the confrontation with the pursuers, but the duo finally managed to escape when they cut the rope bridge of the Steeprock Canyon under the Hunter's noses, a stunt that almost cost Kinessa her arm. Five more days of travel finally brought them to their destination, Crosswind Hold.
The village was built in three levels. On the ground stood regular houses, similar to those in Easthaven. A few larger buildings, like the tavern, market and the Grand Headquarters of the Paladins dominated the streetview. The central town was surrounded by a thick forest. High up in the foliage was the upper layer, which consisted of sturdy treehouses and rope bridges. Hundreds of pathways interconnected the well-hidden homes of thieves, assassins and outlaws. But the real action was not amidst the leaves, but under the ground. A great gorge split the town in half, said to have been made in a battle between the ancient dragons and rock giants. Dozens of tunnels had formed in the canyon over the years and made up a complex underground structure. Black market dealers, bandits and cutthroats ruled this subterranean empire, where the weak would perish, but the strong could make a good amount of gold.
As Kinessa and Maeve broke through the treeline, they were greeted by hundreds of sights, sounds and smells coming from all the layers of the town. Kinessa had to catch Maeve, whose Half-Tigron senses were overloaded by the sudden shock of activity after days of quiet traveling, and almost made her pass out. Half dragging her companion to the town square, the sniper made her way to the local inn.
The innkeeper was a warm-hearted old dwarf called Calrum. He didn't seem dazed by the slightest when the girls told their story, having seen hundreds of their kind over the years.
"Well, as I'm sure you're well aware, you have to get your hands dirty to live here," he told them. "But you gals look like you can handle yourselves, don't you?" The sentence was followed by a glass of water being poured on Maeve's head, who screamed and lunged to the dwarf's neck, finally recovered from her shock. Calrum laughed.
"Yep, seems like it!" He picked Maeve up and threw her back over the counter, much to her displeasure.
"Well, I won't ask what you have done to have made your way here, but I can give you a few tips on how to make fast gold. I would suggest starting by making your way up to the trees. Find an elf by the name of Silian. She can explain how things work around here. Don't forget to ask her for directions, since it's quite easy to get lost up there. Find the Thieves Guild, Adventure Parties, Bounty Boards or whatever suits you and start earning some income. Once you get used to the place, you can try the Underground for more challenging jobs. The rest is up to you."
"Thank you Calrum, I think we'll manage!" Kinessa said and dragged Maeve out, who was busy swearing and throwing knives at the dwarf who just laughed and ducked behind the counter for protection.
Finding Silian wasn't as easy as locating the inn. As they later learned, she had to keep moving to evade every person she had pissed off lately, all 52 of them. Some were looking for revenge, some for money she owed them, some stolen valuables. Eventually they managed to locate the elf, hiding in the treetops as far away from the crowd as she could. It took some time to convince her to help, but she eventually agreed if the duo could get the mob off her back. That was the moment when the beforementioned mob decided to appear just as they sealed the deal. Not really keen on letting the elf or her new friends escape, they decided to do the sensible thing for any angry crowd: attack. The entire incident lasted less than a minute, but left a clear impression: the newcomers are not to be trifled with. With their newfound fame, Kinessa and Maeve both managed to pick up some higher-ranking jobs that were usually reserved for more experienced mercenaries. One of them was a high-paying hit on some lone veteran, too good to pass up. Kinessa accepted.
But as she stood there, looking through some retired soldier's window, she began to think. This guy had pissed someone off, and now that someone wanted him dead. But was it worth it? To kill someone just for a bit of coin? As a soldier she did it for peace and justice, but now? Only for her own selfish desires, to chase after old ghosts. Killing essentially one of her own to do so. Half an hour she stood there, watching as the man ate his dinner. He was lonely. No wife, no children, friends probably dead. She could have been him. Served years, fighting for the Magistrate, then retire to some quiet cottage haunted by her past. Just like she was now, but there was a difference: she was still moving. There was a force driving her actions, unlike this man who had given up a long time ago. And she knew that stopping now would be the end. There would be no more restarts. No more chances. Could she do it, throw it all away just for one guy, because of her old ideals?
She slung her rifle, took aim and pulled the trigger.
After the first one, it got easier. The second took less hesitation. And the third. And the fourth. With every shot, her heart grew colder, her old sense of honor fading, until eventually she felt nothing at all, every bounty just a job to execute, a nameless mark to exhange for precious gold which kept this world running. Her sense of humor returned at last, but mixed with her new life and feelings it wasn't the same. There was no more trace of Kinny Darkstalker, who had been entirely replaced with Kinessa, The Bounty Hunter.
Which brings us to the present, the day when Kinessa claimed her 100th bounty. Work had become plentiful as tales of her skills spread and the situation in the Realm was destabilizing. The Magistrate and Paladins were starting open battles, which created a lot of contracts as both sides wanted opposing commanders and key personnel dead. Today's target was just a normal criminal, not too challenging but a great shot nonetheless. It was quite easy to hit moving targets when you could slow down time itself with your mind. Her favorite by far had been a skydiver jumping from a zeppelin who had never gotten the chance to open his parachute. Kinessa chuckled as she recalled his lifeless body plummeting towards the ground.
An hour later she collapsed in bed. Her house was a small apartment in the canopy, which consisted of a kitchen, a living room and a bathroom. Several trophies and mementos from targets adorned the shelves. Various weapon kits and tools were lying around, and the kitchen was incredibly messy. A normal mercenary's apartment, with absolutely no clues hinting at her past. If some had bothered to inspect the whole compound, they would have found a lot of similar rooms.
But there was one major difference: one of the living room walls had been turned into a large target board, with various pieces of string uniting different memos and pictures like a conspiracy theorist would do. One of the pictures showed a large, bearded man with sunglasses, with an attached memo stating: "Viper, Lumber Village. No lead." Another showed a woman in a hood trying to hide her face. She was apparently "Midnight Stalker, Fish Market. No lead." A third picture was another man pointing two guns at the camera. His memo said: "Brawler. Brightmarsh. No lead. Note: Get a new informant. Someone who can run faster." This trend followed on, with dozens of new pictures, memos, locations, and notifications filling up the wall. But despite the differences, every picture was the same. No lead. No lead. No lead. No lead. Months of tracking down and killing agents of the Decimators had proven to yield no results. Their chain of command appeared to be incredibly small, with all targets which she thought had been big players in the organization proved to just be small fishes who knew nothing and gave her nothing, except pain and injuries. All had been adept fighters, and every fight had ended the same: her beating up the broken enemy after their interrogation, exhausted, bloodied and with a wild flame in her eyes, but all of them stating the same: "You'll never find them. Only they can find you."
And thus, she had left empty handed every time, dragged herself back to Crosswind Hold, and started the search all over again, hunting down new bounties every time she ran low on cash. As she did now. As Kinessa laid there, she began to think whether she should go to the inn and celebrate her 100th bounty with the her colleagues. She didn't exactly have friends, but fellow bounty hunters were more like "buddies." Close enough to spend time with, but not too close in case one of them was hired to kill the other. Many apartments in her neighbourhood had suddenly freed up when their owners had been hired to kill her by the families of Kinessa's former targets. She was used to it now, but it was sometimes a shame to go on a drink with some fellow professionals, only to wake up to them kicking in your door.
The thought was interrupted by her door getting kicked in.
Cassie stepped in to the sight of Kinessa scrambling to get her gun, but stopped when she noticed the intruder. She slowly stood up.
"Well, hello, Cass. Ever heard of knocking? New doors aren't exactly cheap," she greeted the huntress. Cassie, however, didn't seem to be in the mood for casual conversation. She glared at Kinessa with an unually murderous glance.
"Did you kill Bormin Goodwell?" she asked.
Kinessa quickly probed her memory. The name sounded familiar, but…
"Oh yeah! That guy, from couple days ago! Yep, that was me. How so?"
Cassie was practically fuming with anger.
"He was our second-in-command! Valera's most trusted liutenant! How could you do that?"
Kinessa sighed. "Well, sorry, but it was my job. That's what I do nowadays. If it makes you feel any better, he did put up quite the fight. Not that many can dodge my shots, much less fight back."
Suddenly, Cassie rushed in and punched her in the face. Hard. So hard that she fell down, completely immobilized by this sudden act of violence from a usually cheery and friendly person. Kinessa was in shock as she felt her cheek where Cassie's fist had connected, and looked up. The girl she'd seen so bravely defend the city gates, the one who'd abandoned her homeland and risked her life to join the rebel cause, was sobbing as if the world was ending.
"It's a miracle if we now even have a chance at winning! Our troops are in disarray, the Magistrate has raided multiple of our safehouses, even Valera herself doesn't know what to do! And it's all because of you! What happened to defending the Realm? What happened to the Kinessa I knew, who rushed headfirst into battle to defend the innocent? The one Fletch always spoke of so highly? What have you done to her, you no-good goblin-spawn?!"
"Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but she's gone, dissappeared when she realized that world is an unfair place and that to survive, you have to do things yourself. So whatever I'm doing to chase my goals is none of your damn business!" Kinessa shouted back.
"Don't you ever think about how others feel? How many widows you've made? How many children orphaned?" Cassie was practically begging by now, looking for any trace of remorse.
"No, I do not. The moment I start to care is the moment it's over, and I'm not ready for it. And nothing you say is gonna change it. So now what are you gonna do? Kill me?"
"In fact, yes. Valera has given orders to terminate you, and gave me the first shot because she knew we have history. But I decided to give you a heads up, a chance to run away and reconsider your actions. But now I see that it's useless. You're a lost cause," Cassie replied. She reached for her knife.
The unmistakable sound of guns being cocked was heard from behind her. Cassie slowly turned around, and saw Kinessa's neighbours standing in the doorframe, pointing at her with various weapons.
"Everything alright here, Nessa?" one of them asked.
"Yeah, we just had a friendly little reunion. Cassie was just about to leave," she replied.
"Please let her through. But if she tries to come back, you're free to do whatever you want. I hear vibrant red locks like that sell for a good price at the market."
Guns for hire cleared the doorway to let the huntress through. Cassie slowly turned around and took five slow steps, to not give any trigger-happy gunman an excuse to attack. She was shaken. at the door she turned around and took one last glance at Kinessa.
"And to think I almost considered you a friend," she muttered.
Kinessa scoffed at the comment as she disappeared from view. She got up and lifted the door back. She'd have to call a repairman in the morning.
And then she fell to her knees and screamed. She screamed at the world, at the unfairness of it, the powers that were making it run, the things she had to do to find a sliver of justice from this rotten realm she found herself inhabiting, the bonds she'd broken and could never mend. Cassie's visit had been like a slap to the face, (both figuratively and literally,) a reminder of the horror she'd caused, the monster she'd become to take down an even bigger one. She didn't try to contain it, she just screamed, allowing the raw emotion to pour out, in an effort to ease the suffering momentarily. She screamed for a minute, then two, her voice unwavering. Those who heard here steered clear of the apartment, most of them understanding what the resident was going through. The voice of pure pain cut through the foliage, but not of physical pain. No blade, no gun could possibly cause such suffering as the world had caused her.
Her scream ended after five minutes, and returned her world to a deafening silence.
She stood upright, gasping for breath. She couldn't let emotions run her life anymore, not when she'd chosen this course. There was no going back from this, so all she could do was bear it and play the game until the end.
Kinessa regained her composure and decided to go for a walk to clear her head. But she could take only two steps before the door fell down again. Outside stood Crode, her young informant, who had apparently tried to knock. Now he stood gazing at hist fist, in awe of the hidden strength within. Kinessa sighed.
"Control your drake-dreams, kiddo. The door was just kicked in five minutes earlier. You're not a demigod."
"Oh," the boy replied, looking a bit dissappointed. But then he perked up again.
"Well, you'll be happy to know that I've found another one. And I think this one is it. The big fish you've wanted. You just have to go and…" his voice faded away as he spotted Kinessa staring at him, completely unimpressed. She shook her head.
"You do remember you said that about the last one too?"
The boy nodded.
"Yes. It was The Vanguard, if I recall. At the Splitstone Quarry. And remember what he did to me?" she asked, her voice adopting a dangerous tone Crode failed to notice.
"Well, yes, but…" he managed to mutter before Kinessa lunged at his neck and lifted him up with one hand, murder in her eyes.
"He tried to shove my head into a lavafall! Do you have any idea how hard is it to find a mage whose specialty is GROWING HAIR BACK?! And then I had to kill everyone who laughed at me on the way home. Do you know how many there were?" She asked, her voice growing into a shout. Crode shook his head, gasping for air. His face was starting to turn blue.
"27. Twenty-seven. I had to kill TWENTY-SEVEN bystanders just to keep my reputation! And the worst part is he didn't know anything! He was just an enforcer, taking orders from a shadowy middleman. So do you REALLY think I want to hear from your "Big Fish" this soon? DO YOU?!" She exclaimed and let her grip loosen. The boy fell to the ground, gasping for breath. She sighed. This was just not her day.
"Whatever. Give me the guy, today has sucked anyway. A couple of broken ribs aren't gonna make it worse."
She picked up her rifle began to trek to the coordinates provided by Crode. It was nearby, at the old Warder ruins. A typical bad guy hiding place. A typical job. A typical day in the life of Kinessa.
"All right, Mr. Decimator Agent Number IDon'tEvenCareAnymore, shall we dance?"