Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.
When Kerry thought about that later, he couldn't really remember how he run down the stairs and got to the entrance. He knew he shouted at an innocent person to back off, he also vaguely recollected pushing someone who got in the way, but the rest was a blur.
He remembered his state of mind quite well, though.
Panic. Sheer, bloody panic.
"V!" yelled Kerry as soon as he saw the body on the ground.
He ran closer and fell to his knees next to V, barely even noticing the crimson stains slowly appearing on his expensive jeans. Kerry turned V on the back quickly, almost too quickly. If he had to face the worst, then he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. He'd already experienced so much he knew there was no point in postponing the inevitable.
"Ugh… It hurts, Ker…"
Kerry took a deep breath and did his best to calm himself down. V was alive. That was all that mattered now.
He slid his arm under V's head and glanced over the merc's body. The blood was seeping from a deep stab wound in the abdomen, identical to those they had just seen on Sloth's chest. The killer must have done it while they grappled with V for that short time. A cold shiver went down Kerry's spine when he realised that it was probably the only reason V survived. The masked man simply didn't have enough time to finish V off.
Shit. Why couldn't all that money have taught him how to provide first aid? Kerry gently moved V's head onto his knees and took of that damn black, cheap hoodie he had been wearing for the whole day. He covered the wound with the thick material and applied pressure, hoping that could stop the bleeding.
"C'mon, kid, stay with me. Stay. Just stay," repeated Kerry frantically. "Dontcha fuckin' dare die on me!"
"Or what?" asked V, sarcastically. "Your hands're… shakin' as if you were drunk as fuck."
Kerry immediately recognised that cheeky tone.
"Johnny?"
"Not even askin' how… I am?"
"Where's V?" gasped Kerry. "Is he…"
Johnny snorted.
"Chill the fuck out," he said and tried to laugh, but instead his face twisted in pain. "He's… somewhere there. And still alive."
Kerry felt that the knot in his stomach got a little loosened. But only a little.
"Gonna call Trauma Team, hold on," said Kerry, with his voice still shaking. He cursed at himself inwardly for not coming up with that idea immediately.
"Don't." Johnny suddenly became serious. "Take me… to a ripperdoc. Viktor Vector. In Little China."
"You mad?!" Kerry frowned. "Wanna go to a fusty dump? I'll pay…"
"Christ, Ker," interrupted Johnny, visibly irritated. "Kid's bleedin' out before your eyes… and you just can't listen to me?"
There was no reason to distrust Johnny and Kerry was aware of that. He still wasn't sure how that biochip worked but from what he managed to understand, it wasn't any rocket science. The body had to be functional, as simple as that. If the flesh dies, then the mind – or minds, in this case – passes away as well. And Kerry knew Johnny for too long to suspect him of suicidal thoughts. They were best friends. Best buddies. They knew each other.
And yet… Johnny had always lived blissfully unaware of what was happening to Kerry, until he read a gossip section of a cheap screamsheet.
"Fine, fine! Where's that doc?"
"Misty's Esoterica," gasped Johnny. His breathing became noisy. "Ask the girl, she'll… take you there."
"Shit. Hope you know what you're doin'," mumbled Kerry, more to himself than to Johnny.
Kerry knew that if one lived in Night City, one could expect a lot. Being stuck in the chronic traffic jams for an hour, especially when you have to drain the anaconda? Pretty standard. Getting stabbed by an armed cyberpsycho in broad daylight at Jinguji? Last week's top story. Becoming a sidekick of a mercenary who agreed to solve the mystery of a kidnapped girl and who almost got killed in the middle of the investigation? Yes, please.
But it still shocked Kerry that dozens of people were passing him while he was dragging an injured man across the street, both of them soaked in blood and yet nobody paid even a lick of attention. Not to mention any help.
Glad Del could stop so close to the club, thought Kerry bitterly. What the fuck is wrong with you, people?!
"Welcome to the Delamain transportation service," said the robotic voice as Kerry opened the rear door. "It is a pleasure to host you again, Mr. Eurodyne. Leave your problems at the door!"
"I'll fuckin' leave your door at the problems if you don't shut up," snarled Kerry in a fit of anger. "Hold on, Johnny. Almost there."
"'Cool. Twould be… damn pathetic to flatline now," groaned Johnny when he slumped on the car seat.
Of course he tried to act tough, that was just Johnny, but Kerry didn't get fooled. He could see how the pupils dilated in pain, he noticed shiny droplets of sweat on the forehead. And as much as he tried to not look at Johnny's abdomen, he couldn't pretend that the big crimson stain didn't exist.
"Misty's Esoterica in Little China, Del," commanded Kerry. "As fast as possible. I'll pay all the tickets."
"You are our VIP client, Mr. Eurodyne," informed Del politely. "This means you are accorded special privileges due to your high…"
"Shit, I know what this means!" roared Kerry and slammed the small screen on the front seat with his fist. The thin glass cracked and Del's pixelated face disappeared. "Just go already, you damn piece of junk! Or I'll fuckin' rip you to pieces, screw after screw, I swear!"
He threw an angry glare at the rear-view mirror. A pair of ice blue eyes was watching him carefully, but the car finally started. Kerry exhaled and rubbed his forehead, bewildered by that sudden outburst. He could feel his ears were burning. Holy crap. When was the last time he flipped out like that?
Kerry glanced at Johnny, who was observing him in complete silence, half-lying on the seat. As they were driving down the streets of Japantown, colourful neon spots were moving over Johnny's face which made him look a bit surreal, like a cyberspace being.
"Press harder," growled Kerry, slightly annoyed. He reached his hand to grab the hoodie, now heavy and wet and applied some pressure. "The doc's not gonna treat a corpse."
"Fuck me," started Johnny after a moment of silence. He was still staring at Kerry with his eyes wide open. "You're… head over heels for that kid."
Kerry's muscles tensed upon hearing those words. His initial reaction was to yell or laugh at Johnny's insinuations, but the truth was… Oh, for fuck's sake. Was the truth really that obvious?
"Have no idea what you're talkin' 'bout," muttered Kerry and instantly regretted those words. Fuck, he sounded like an infatuated teenager who doesn't want to admit he likes someone. Let's add some blushing and we've got a full combo.
"There's a danger in your eyes, huh?" hummed Johnny, obviously amused. "Sounds like shit. You wrote it? That's your pick-up line now?"
"Maybe," snapped Kerry reluctantly. "Now stop blabberin' or I'll deepen that ugly cut."
"Technically," started Del in a confident tone, "it is a stab wound, a specific form of penetrating trauma to the skin that results from a pointed obj…" Del stopped in mid-sentence when Kerry clenched his fist again and pointed it at the last surviving screen.
"Listen, Ker," said Johnny in a serious voice. "You're one… good-hearted motherfucker. An' I hate when good-hearted motherfuckers suffer."
Kerry frowned.
"I'm done with ya, Johnny, if that's what you're tryin' to say. Fifty years's more than enough."
Johnny took a breath – a very shallow one, as Kerry noticed – and seemed to think about something for a moment.
"I know you… don't give a flyin' fuck 'bout me, chill" laughed Johnny but a pain expression appeared on his face almost immediately. He was speaking with more and more difficulty. "We're not goin' to the ripperdoc 'cause you… feel pity for an ol' friend… but 'cause you don't wanna… lose V."
Then it was obvious. Or maybe, just maybe, Johnny knew him well after all.
"Why should I suffer, then?" asked Kerry, totally confused.
He glanced at the hoodie he had been pressing onto the wound and noticed thin trickles of blood, running down between his fingers. The synthetic material felt unpleasantly sticky and soaked up like a sponge. It was clear it wasn't able to absorb any more blood. Shit, not good. Not good. Kerry applied a little more force and looked up at Johnny again.
"Johnny? Johnny! Wake up! Yo, Del, told ya to go faster! FASTER, GODDAMN!"
The car stopped in a narrow alley in Little China in front of a small, cheap-looking shop. The white neon sign above the door proudly said "Misty's Esoterica and chakra harmonization" but that didn't tell Kerry anything. He vaguely recollected that his guru said once or twice that his chakras need to be cleansed, but he never really understood what exactly those chakras were. The ritual of purification was all about inhaling potpourri scent and mumbling mantras for an hour and the only thing that felt different was that Kerry's legs had gone completely numb. If that was all that was needed to cleanse those damn chakras, he might at least spend that time in front of a TV.
The truth was, Kerry never cared about all that spiritual crap – at least, not that much. Sure, listening to someone enlightened was always helpful. He even often managed to fish out some words of actual wisdom but in reality, those rare visits at Khian's yurt always meant that Kerry's mental state was so bad he desperately needed something or someone to help him stay afloat.
"Just a little more," said Kerry quietly when he finally dragged unconscious V out of the car and wrapped V's right arm around his own neck.
Kerry tilted his head back and took a deep breath. By the time they got to Little China, it got dark or at least as dark as it could be in that neon city. He was able to see megabuilding ten from here, ominously growing into the night sky. It was very hard to believe for Kerry that they both were chilling out in V's apartment only several hours earlier. It felt like ages ago.
Suddenly, Kerry felt very, very tired but he also knew that was the final stretch and V would be safe. He gathered all his strength, grabbed V around the waist and started walking. Just a few yards more…
The entrance door to Misty's Esoterica slided automatically and the strong smell of incense hit Kerry immediately. There was nobody inside, besides a blonde-haired young woman who reminded Kerry of a character he once saw in an old science fiction film. That must have been Misty. She was doing a tarot card reading but, upon hearing the door open, she raised her head, ready to greet the customer. The moment she laid her eyes on them, her hand stopped in midair over the cards lying in front of her.
"Viktor Vector," gasped Kerry. "Where is he?"
Misty stepped out from behind the counter she was sitting at and rushed towards them. She grabbed V's left arm and put it around her own neck. She didn't mind the blood staining her purple sweater, she didn't even ask any questions.
As if it wasn't the first time something like that happened.
"To the back," said the girl and gave Kerry a reassuring smile. "I'll help you."
They entered the exit door, crossed the narrow back alley and took the stairs down. There was not a single sign telling that this was an entrance to a well-equipped clinic. The only hint that there was something valuable here were heavy iron bars on the door. Of course, ripperdocs were another group of people besides BD editors who preferred to hole up in shady dumps. Having a clinic wasn't exactly illegal in Night City – there weren't any institutions which would check if sanitary requirements were being complied with, nobody cared if people decided to expose themselves to the danger of gangrene. The real problem for the NC authorities was the amount of black market cyberware usually stored at the back. Since unauthorised stuff like police mantis blades or hacked Kiroshi optics was the main source of income for ripperdocs, there was literally no point in running a clinic by the main road. Sure, there were some daredevils who weren't afraid of anything or maybe they simply were particularly good at hiding illegal components. It was hard to tell.
Viktor Vector's clinic, on the other hand, was so well hidden that Kerry wouldn't be surprised if the guy had an access to Yorinobu Arasaka's private collection of cyberware. The said owner was sitting at his work desk, seemingly bored and casually watching something on a portable TV. When he heard the clink of moving iron bars, he raised his head.
"Shit," cursed Viktor. He leaped out of his seat and almost jumped to the control panel of the big operation chair in the middle of the dark room. "Bring him here! Now!"
By the time Kerry, with the help of Misty, gently put unconscious V in the operation chair, Viktor was ready. Yeah, that surely wasn't the first time they both had seen V like that.
"Get him out of here, Misty," commanded Viktor. "And you…" he started and pointed at Kerry. There was a hint of hostility in his voice. "We'll talk later."
Kerry wanted to protest, to say that he wanted to stay, but the moment he felt Misty's small hand on his shoulder, he understood it would be pointless. There was no way he could help and it certainly didn't seem like Viktor didn't care about V. He had to trust that guy. And he had to trust Johnny, too. There was no other choice now.
Before he left with Misty, Kerry took one last look at V. It might have been the sharp light above the chair, but the merc's face seemed completely white, as if all the blood had left his body through the nasty wound. V wasn't moving at all – his head dropped inertly to the side as they put him down and Kerry suddenly realised he wasn't even sure if V was breathing.
He felt cold.
"Come. Come," Misty hurried him up.
She grabbed Kerry's wrist and, not even waiting for his reaction, led him upstairs. He didn't mind anymore, he still had V's white face burned into his mind and even the cold night air didn't make Kerry think more clearly.
"Can you tell me what happened?" asked Misty.
"I, uh… I… V and I…"
So fucking lame. He couldn't even find the proper words. Kerry, feeling a bit ashamed, dropped his gaze to his own palms. They were still covered with V's blood, which started to slowly dry on the fingertips.
It felt almost unreal, to see that much blood on himself and yet not feel any physical pain.
Kerry examined his hands and forearms from all sides in horror, then he glanced at his jeans and t-shirt, now splashed with blood and it immediately hit him that there was no way V could survive it. No. Fucking. Way.
"Hey." A calm female voice reached Kerry as if it was coming from another world. He realised he was shaking the whole time. A pair of small hands gently grabbed his fingers. "Are you okay?"
Kerry looked at Misty helplessly. Her warm grip made the block of ice in his stomach melt slowly, releasing everything he had been desperately trying to trap inside for the whole evening.
"I… Fuck. Fuck," he repeated and shook his head.
I can't take that anymore.
His fingers were tingling. His mouth was dry. His eyes were burning.
Misty seemed surprised when Kerry clung on to her but she didn't say anything. She remained silent even when she felt something wet on her shoulder.
She put her arms around the man who was doing his best to pretend he wasn't sobbing. That was all she could do.
Before Kerry tasted his coffee, he held the cup with both hands for a moment, enjoying the heat. Such a simple pleasure was exactly what he needed. Kerry still felt a bit cold, but only a little – Misty brought a blanket and put it over his back.
He took a sip of coffee. It was bitter and tasted cheap, but Kerry didn't mind. It was good. He looked up from the cup at Misty – she went back to doing her tarot reading, as if nothing happened. When they came back to the shop, she made Kerry sit on a big, comfortable chair near the counter and he hadn't moved off that spot since then. He didn't protest at all, he let Misty clean his hands with a wet towel and accepted the coffee later.
He should be more grateful to that good soul.
"Thanks," mumbled Kerry.
Misty raised her head and looked at him.
"For what?" she asked, genuinely confused.
"Everythin'." Kerry shrugged. "Kid's lucky he's got such friends. I mean… you are friends, aren't you?"
Misty nodded.
"My boyfriend was V's best friend. We spent a lot of time together, all three of us," she added after a short pause.
The words she said rang a bell. Kerry had a feeling that he'd already heard of V's best friend somewhere that day but it took him several seconds to connect the dots in his tired mind.
"Jackie, right?" he asked.
"Right," came a short response. And that was it.
Great, thought Kerry. Fuckin' beautiful. Silver-tongued Kerry Eurodyne strikes again. And fails so hard, also again. This deserves a damn "you tried" badge. He sipped some coffee, wondering if he should continue the chat or shut the fuck up before saying too much again, but luckily Misty saved Kerry from his misery.
"Why don't you go back home?" she asked. "You must be really tired. I'll let you know when Vik finishes, V is in good hands."
"I'm sure of it. The thing is…" Kerry spun the mug gently and observed the black whirl inside it for a moment. The thing was, even though it was not an easy thing to admit to himself, Kerry wanted to be there just in case he had to say the final goodbye to V. "We're friends too," he said finally, controlling his voice with effort. "And I wanna be here when he wakes up to tell 'im what a damn idiot he is."
"Oh, don't expect him to stop making you worried." Misty sent him a warm smile. "But you'll get used to it sooner or later."
"Can't say I'm that surprised." Kerry forced himself to smile too. "Wonder what happens if he works on a gig alone and there's nobody to save his ass."
Misty shrugged.
"V wasn't always working alone."
She said that in such a strange and sad tone that Kerry immediately realised what she meant and what happened. How Jackie died. He knew, yet he said nothing, simply waited if Misty wanted to continue or not.
"But he swore to never risk anyone's life again," she added finally.
Shit. He owed her that story. She deserved to know how V ended up in a ripperdoc's chair.
"Today, he… we were workin' on one case. Shady, fucked up stuff. An' he didn't want me to go," admitted Kerry after a short pause. He could feel his mouth was dry again. "Said I don't know shit 'bout his job but I made 'im to take me and… guess he was right, heh."
"Let me tell you one thing." Misty crossed her arms on the chest. "V would never take you for a gig if he really didn't want to. He knows what it means, more than anyone else."
"Nah." Kerry shook his head. "It's all my fault, y'know? We were in a club, we needed to find a guy there to ask him some questions… But I hell-bent on winnin' a fuckin' contest an' the guy got killed in the meantime. V's been attacked and I… couldn't do anything. Couldn't help. Only watched. If only we got there a few minutes earlier…" Kerry sighed heavily. Saying all those words out loud was even more painful. "Fuck, sorry for that whinin'."
Even if Misty didn't quite understand that chaotic story, she didn't show it at all.
"Don't blame yourself. I know it's easy for me to say, but you feeling guilty won't change anything."
"I am guilty."
"No, not at all." Now it was Misty who shook her head. "Could either of you predict that it would happen? That one or two minutes would make such a difference? You can't change the fate. In fact, you saved his life. I believe you were supposed to save his life, Kerry."
Kerry snorted when he heard his own name all of a sudden.
"Guess everyone knows me in this damn city, huh?"
Much to his surprise, Misty chuckled quietly.
"That's true, but…" She tilted her head to the side. "Mama Welles invited me for dinner earlier today. She's a good person, but she just can't keep her mouth shut sometimes."
The moment Kerry heard a loud scream in the distance, he threw the mug away and jumped to his feet. Was it V? He stood still for a moment, listening intently. Misty tried to say something, but Kerry silenced her by putting a finger on his lips.
Then it happened again. A wild, horrid scream.
Kerry didn't wait any longer. He stormed out of Misty's Esoterica and ran to the only place he could think of – Viktor Vector's clinic. It was already dark outside and he almost fell down the stairs but that didn't stop him even for a second.
What stopped him, however, was the image of a dark silhouette standing over V, with a long knife in their hand.
"What… what the fuck?!" shouted Kerry and shook his head. He couldn't understand anything. "Who the hell are you? WHAT DIDYA DO?!"
The stranger slowly turned towards Kerry.
"Me?" They laughed mockingly. "It was you. Look at your hands."
All of a sudden, Kerry found himself next to V. He noticed up close that there was a new stab, straight through V's chest. He freaked out and wanted to shake V, to wake him up somehow but then he realised he was clutching a long knife in his right hand.
One drop of blood fell to the ground.
"Kerry…"
"Drip, drip," said Kerry.
"Kerry, wake up…"
The first thing Kerry saw after he opened his eyes was a dark ceiling, dotted with specks of rust and dirt. He had no idea when he had fallen asleep in that big chair, but judging from the pain in his neck, he must have been napping for quite a long time. And, of course, he wouldn't be Kerry Eurodyne if his dreams weren't in fact nightmares.
"Are you alright?"
Misty was standing next to the chair and there was visible concern on her face. Kerry realised she was gently squeezing his shoulder, but he didn't mind at all. Misty's touch sent a warm wave through his body, it gave energy to his body and strength to his mind so strangely fast that if someone told Kerry it was magic, he would absolutely believe it.
"Sorry, must've dozed off," mumbled Kerry and rubbed his eyes.
"At least time went faster. You were asleep for almost three hours," said a male voice.
Kerry raised his head and saw Viktor Vector sitting at the counter. He seemed as jaded as he was when they first met but at least this time Kerry didn't have any bad news for the ripperdoc.
The thing was, the ripperdoc might have had some and that thought made every muscle in Kerry's body tense.
"V's alive," informed Viktor first and put out his cigarette. "He's not exactly okay, but he'll pull through. Kid's tough."
V's alive. Alive. Viktor's words were still echoing in Kerry's ears. The relief that came after hearing that, that feeling as if the weigh in his chest disappeared was so sudden and so strong, he had to look up at the rusty ceiling again and take a very deep breath. Otherwise… No, not in front of Viktor.
"Wanna see 'im," said Kerry after he calmed down a bit. He hated that his voice sounded so weak.
"He's still unconscious."
"I don't mind."
Viktor scratched his head and glanced at Misty, who smiled lightly and nodded.
"Alright, for a minute," sighed Viktor. "He's gotta rest. C'mon."