Raphael was highly annoyed as he climbed back onto his bike, and mostly with himself. I never shoulda wasted Marc's time tonight. Now I've got him up in arms for no good reason. Why didn't I just turn around and go home? The turtle sighed softly and put his helmet back on.
The Avalanche was already moving away from him, and Raphael watched while Marcus turned into a small parking lot to make a U-turn. I don't want him right behind me for a couple of miles. I think I'll get off this road entirely .
The red-masked turtle turned his bike around to go back the way he'd come, and made an immediate right at the first opportunity. If he stares at the back of my head for too long, Marc won't quit worrying over me. Out of sight, out of mind seems like the best option.
He'd been driving for a couple of minutes when he had to tighten his grip on the handlebars as renewed heaviness weighed down his eyelids. Been through this already, he chided himself. You can rest in a little while. Shell, after Donny's done with me I'll probably be quarantined to the lab for a month.
Raphael stopped for a red light and took the opportunity to lean farther against the handlebars, but willed himself not to close his eyes. He focused hard on the sparse cross-traffic to stay alert, picking out the muted color of each vehicle as it passed through the intersection.
He looked in his mirror and saw nothing behind him, with the exception of a lone pair of headlights a couple of blocks away. Raphael turned forward once more just as the traffic light changed. He pulled himself upright in his seat, compelling muscles to contract and support his frame so he could sit up straighter.
When he started driving again Raphael realized that he needed to keep an eye out for a specific cross-street that would lead him back the correct direction from his little detour. The turtle squinted on every approach of an intersection, but none of the signs were standing out to him. Over ten minutes had passed before it occurred to him that he'd probably missed the street he was looking for. Great, idiot. What am I supposed to do now? Guess I should get turned around and search for something else I recognize.
He struggled to make out the name of the street he was approaching, and felt relieved when it rang a bell in his mind. Forrester. Okay, I can find get home from here for sure. It'll take me out of the way, but backtracking feels pointless.
Raphael made a quick left onto the side street, cursing his inability to go the correct direction home to begin with. I wasted more time out here when I didn't need to. Sooner I get back, the better. Something tells me Marc might have already called one of the guys, and that means a welcoming party will be waiting for me.
A powerful chill overtook the turtle, and he had to downshift to drive a little slower. It'll probably take me longer than ever at this point, but I'll get there. Raphael fleetingly considered his cell phone and whether he should call Donatello. But he'll rush after me like I need to be rescued and Leo will be all smug. No thanks. He left the phone where it was clipped to his belt and concentrated on the road in front of him. All I have to do is go in a straight line, and avoid any people or obstacles. Piece of cake.
The sudden stench of gasoline was overpowering, even with the congestion clouding his senses. Where's that coming from? Shell, don't tell me I'm having an issue with the bike.
Raphael pulled over immediately to the side of the road, stopping six feet ahead of an alley. There was no one in sight, so he removed his helmet and began seeking out the source of the strong smell. He crouched down to examine his motorcycle, but quickly realized that the scent was coming from somewhere else. That's weird. There are no gas stations around here. It smells like someone's car needs serviced in the worst way.
Now that he'd started looking, curiosity wasn't letting him give up easily. The red-masked turtle took a couple of halting steps, following the direction the scent seemed to be coming from. When he walked up on the edge of the alley, voices made him stop with a jerk.
"…you got enough there, kid, now make sure you spread it farther, like a trail. This place is old enough that it should go up like a giant fireball."
Raphael held his breath while he peered around the corner into a moderately sized alley that opened to another side street on the opposite end. He picked out two figures moving amid the shadows of the building adjacent to him, and it only took seconds to understand what they were doing. Aw, Man. It's the wrong time for something like this… He studied the storefront of what looked like a Pharmacy, and held his ground while the talking resumed.
"You brought more than enough chains, Lewis." The voice sounded younger.
"I wanted to make sure we had plenty to bar the exits." There was a sinister tone behind Lewis' laugh.
Bar the exits from what? The place is closed. Who'd be trying to escape?
"The guy's kids are probably up there, though. Don't you think that's sort of sad?"
Lewis snorted. "He knew what he was getting into when he testified, Nicholas. Way I see it, we're doing those kids a favor."
What guy? What kids? This isn't happening. Raphael looked up, scanning the higher floors of the building. As his eyes roved, he finally caught sight of colored curtains and an air conditioning unit that confirmed exactly what the two would-be criminals were discussing. There was a family living above the storefront, and they meant to kill them all.
"How do you figure?"
"The brats will get to die with their parents, and won't have to be shuffled between other relatives, or waste time missing anyone. If they're lucky, carbon monoxide might get them before the fire does, and they'll never wake up."
"I guess," Nicholas allowed.
"You can't be soft, kid. That's no way to go places in this family, y'understand?"
Raphael clenched his jaw in frustration as he stayed hidden, out of reach of the bad guys. There're only two of them, and it sounds like one's a new recruit. They might be armed, but if I surprise the older one fast enough, I could probably take anything the younger one dished out. He took several small breaths, affording himself more time to think things through than normal. I could call the cops, but that don't mean they'll be here in time to stop this. If those guys hear sirens, it might even spook them to set things off sooner and bolt. That won't help anyone either.
He looked around the corner again and a shudder coursed through his frame. I ain't prepared for this, but I can't walk away. I can't. There're only two of them. I can do this. The turtle pulled up his hood and silently entered the alley, dropping low by a row of trashcans for what cover they offered.
"You're getting a real education tonight, Nicholas. There's a certain feeling that comes from giving someone what they deserve…and nothing will satisfy you again once you've experienced it. You're lucky Morello sent you with me."
"Because no one messes with our family," Nicholas replied with more certainly.
"Now you've got it, kid. Loyalty…there's nothing more important to the crew than that. You prove yourself, and you'll go far with the boss. But if you cross Morello, you'll end up just like the sad-sack of a human being up in that apartment."
Not on my watch, punk. Raphael quietly flipped a lid off one of the trash cans and threw it with pinpoint accuracy, striking the larger of the two figures directly in the face. As the man stumbled backwards, the turtle lunged, accessing the reserve of adrenaline that he wasn't sure was available until that moment.
He snap-kicked the second young man into the building, mentally commanding strength to translate through his leg. The kid crumpled to the ground, but his quiet groan told Raphael that he probably wasn't completely finished yet. No matter – he still needed to deal with the larger of the pair.
The startled man who'd been struck by the lid recovered rapidly, struggling to his feet before Raphael could get to him. The turtle saw his hand snaking for what could only be a weapon, and forced his way forward faster. The stranger had his gun half-way raised by the time Raphael fist connected with his forearm, batting the firearm aside.
The man growled angrily, lowering his head like he intended to charge. Raphael couldn't help chuckling and remained still, inviting the man to try running him down with upraised arms. His opponent dashed toward him. The moment his chin was exposed, the turtle's fist left a lasting impression and Lewis went down like a sack of rocks.
A smug grin was emerging when the sound of heavy footsteps assaulted Raphael, much too heavy to belong to the smaller figure he'd taken down. The turtle whirled around and the world tilted dangerously under his compromised equilibrium. Moron, he berated himself inwardly. His breath caught in his throat as he strove to keep his balance and avoid the blur charging at him.
Raphael managed to duck and keep his feet, narrowly escaping an object that whizzed through the air close to his head. He backed up against the building for support without thinking. He needed the stability of the structure against the dizziness crashing through his skull, but he was also providing his new (larger) attacker with an easier target.
A cylindrical object made a hollow sound as it collided with brick, striking at least four separate spots while Raphael evaded the stranger's blows. The next time the weapon bore down on him, the turtle stretched out a hand to catch the pipe in mid-air, battling to take it away from the man.
The turtle's hand slid across the smooth surface and his grasp failed under the power of the individual holding onto the other end. Raphael got a hand on it a second time, hanging on for dear life with all of the strength that sheer stubbornness could afford him.
A foot crashed into his thigh and the balance that he'd worked so hard to achieve gave out in less than a second. The pipe was torn from his hand as he pitched forward to his knees, and metal immediately arced to strike his shoulder.
The turtle managed to get his hands underneath him and was tenaciously trying to rise once more when the searing report of the pipe lay across his shell and then whipped around to catch the side of his head. This time, he wasn't even aware of his body giving out.