Bent Arrow, page 5
"Fine. One moment please? Carl. CARL!" Bonk tutted when his right-hand man didn't instantly appear. He tapped his fingers on the countertop while we all stood there, waiting.
"What?" squeaked Carl as he ducked to enter through the doorway from the back office, a specially widened doorway to accommodate his girth. Carl put Boris to shame when it came to size, but Carl was solid, hardly any fat. He was over seven feet, almost as wide, with shoulders like boulders and muscles honed over years. An albino, his eyes were pink, his skin and hair almost translucent, and with the highest voice you could imagine. He was an anomaly, a freak, but weren't we all?
"When I call, you come," scolded Bonk. "We've been over this."
"I was busy," moaned Carl.
"Doing what?"
"Stuff. Business stuff," he said sheepishly.
"You were on that game again, weren't you? I knew computers were bad, never should have been invented."
"We do all our business on the PC," countered Carl.
"Don't answer back. Now, would you be so kind?" Bonk indicated the writhing, stinky mess on the carpet.
"Oh, hey, Spencer. Aunty." Carl beamed.
"Hey, Carl," we replied.
He vaulted over the counter, nimble as a cat, and slung the complaining Grunge over a shoulder before hopping back over and disappearing out the back.
"Phew," I told Aunty. "Glad to see the back of him."
"Me too. Loser. Right, let's go. You know what we have to do."
"I know."
"What's this?" asked Bonk, a gleam in his eyes, always on the lookout for a way to earn.
"Vamp2. Aunty wants it gone, after what we've seen, what we learned after an accident. I promised to help."
"Nasty stuff," Bonk agreed. "Beyond addictive. The lives it has ruined are countless. But it's not your place, Aunty, yours either, Spencer. The vampires love it, some at least, and the dealers aren't the problem, it's the suppliers, the higher-ups. They won't appreciate you trying to mess with their business. It's a massive earner. Millions, if not billions. If you want my advice, stay away. It will end in tears."
"Thanks, Bonk, but we have to try and do something. The things that happen to the poor souls so they can be used to make it, it's beyond criminal."
"I know, I know, just stay away. You can't fight everyone's battle, and you can't beat drugs. If you destroy one supply chain, there will always be another."
"Does that mean you should never try to help?" I asked. "Just because someone else might do something wrong, does that mean you should never stop injustice?"
"No, of course not. All I'm saying is be careful, but I see you've already made your minds up, so good luck to you. Let me know if you need anything."
Aunty and I stared at him in shock. Even Bonk was surprised at himself and put a hand to his mouth as though he could swallow the words back.
"Gee, thanks, dude, appreciate it."
Bonk slapped an envelope on the counter and slid it over to our side. I pocketed the payment. Sometimes Bonk was old school and paid in cash, other times it was a direct bank transfer. Job done, we nodded our farewells.
The blinds opened, the door unlocked, and the outside world streamed in. It was easy to forget that people out there were going about their normal lives, worried about being late for work, trying to remember their shopping lists, or stressing over getting kids to school on time. But there it was, just the other side of a sheet of glass. Sometimes I envied Normals, but mostly not.
We got to the car, I grabbed the parking ticket on the windscreen, and we got in and closed the doors. The silence was nice, the comfort a weight off. My stomach rumbled.
"Time for breakfast number two," I told Aunty as I burned rubber and headed home richer of pocket but poorer of sound mind.
Home Sweet Home
We entered through the front door feeling both good and bad about ourselves, the day, and life in general. Grunge would be dealt with by whoever wanted him for whatever reason, none of our business, but you can bet he deserved it. We had our money, which was unusual as things never normally worked out, and we were getting a second breakfast too.
Our mood soon morphed to one of if not acceptance then resignation as Aunty shut the door behind us and we stared, dumbfounded, even though we should have been used to it, at the scene unfolding before us.
Hanna was naked, and glorious for it, whilst running up and down the stairs, shouting with glee. Each time she reached the top, Boris told her how long she'd taken and with a wicked grin she'd nod and say, "Do it," so Boris stabbed her in the heart and she fell down dead. He flung the body down the stairs, Hanna appeared where she'd died, and with a nod she was off again trying to beat her last time.
The sight of all the bouncing boobs and wobbling bottoms was offset by the pile of corpses, and the fact Boris was eating a pie each time Hanna did her time trial made the whole scene utterly disconcerting. Too much going on. Information overload.
I gaped, I gawped, and I was about to go nuts when Aunty dragged me along the corridor and into the relative sanctuary of the kitchen.
"It's not worth it, leave them to their fun."
I nodded numbly; she was right. Last thing I needed right now was an argument. I needed food, and some peace. I closed the door and the sound was muted somewhat, but not enough, so I turned on the radio and dialed it up until they were drowned out and life felt almost normal for a while.
I turned from the radio and a familiar black shadow shot out of nowhere and thumped into my abdomen. I cradled Furball and he began rumbling with utter innocent contentment. I stroked his head, not that he had one as such, he was just a black ball of midnight fur as dark as the dimension he came from, and allowed the Soother to do just that. A sleep Inducer, bringer of dreams of emptiness, Furball could steal your time and leave you comatose for days, if not forever, if you held him too long or sank too deep into his promises of the void. It was damn tempting. Instead, I removed my hand and thought of something nice for breakfast. Furball nodded his non-head and shot out of my hands and through a trans-dimensional hole in the middle of the room. Just another day in house freaky.
While I fried bacon and eggs, Aunty and I said little, and as I served up along with a bucket of baked beans, Furball reappeared with a gorgeous smelling loaf. It thudded onto the table with the shady pilferer sitting on top looking extremely pleased with himself.
"Beats going to the shops," I told Aunty.
"I wish I knew where he got it from though. Feels like stealing."
"You wouldn't steal, wold you, Furball?" I asked, stroking his head and retrieving the bread knife. He rumbled happily.
"Boris smell bacon," said the big guy as he lumbered in, stuffing the last of a pie into his gob.
"What bread is that?" asked Hanna accusingly.
"Nice bread," I told her. "I made enough for everyone but clothes on first please. It's bad manners to dangle your tits in the beans."
"Spoilsport," said Hanna with a wink, before she sauntered off to get dressed.
Aunty and I sighed. Boris drooled over bacon.
Mimi and the panthers arrived soon after. She yawned, looking pleased with herself.
"Good night?" I asked.
"The best," she said dreamily.
"Were they massive?" asked Aunty, with a twinkle in her eye.
"Like you wouldn't believe," replied Mimi, drooling almost as much as Boris.
"I need to get a life," I sighed.
"Sure do," replied everyone, even Boris.
"Thanks, guys, that's just what I needed to hear."
And so the day began, much like many others, although it had been a little more sedate than some.
In Da Office
After loads of dicking about, plus showers, and naps, and a change of clothes, and whatnot, we all gathered in the lair, a.k.a. The office. It was chaotic, untidy, and we still didn't have a general dogsbody to keep things in check. I always thought it was Aunty who was meant to keep the place organized, but apparently not. Boris had been drawing pies on the whiteboard again, and somebody had been testing their ability to stack paper up to the ceiling, and had clearly failed as sheets were strewn everywhere. The old-fashioned red phone still sat on the reception desk, the signal we had a job, or at least someone who knew we existed. It remained silent.
"Okay everyone, can we have some quiet please?" I told them, hands on hips, taking center stage.
"Nobody talking," said Boris.
"Good, that's good," I told him, beaming.
"What he means is that when you said for there to be quiet, we already were."
"Yes, thank you, Hanna. So, now that everyone's quiet, shall we begin?" I beamed at my motley crew of hunters and the smile slowly faded.
"Go on then, begin," said Hanna.
"I was expecting someone else to do that."
"Why? You're the one who said be quiet when we already were, and now you want us to talk? Which is it? Quiet, or talk?"
"Let's just reset. Now, are we all reset?"
"What does that even mean?" Hanna asked, making herself comfortable by sitting basically upside down and the wrong way round on a chair.
"Questions, questions. How about some answers?" I asked her.
"Okay, I am outta here. This is making no sense whatsoever." She didn't move, probably couldn't be bothered.
"All I'm trying to do is get some order, be the boss, get things organized," I told everyone. They just stared at me, nonplussed.
"I think what Spencer is trying to say," Aunty told them, then turned to me, "is that we need to put our heads together and come up with a plan. Right?"
"That's exactly what I just said," I told her, patting her head because she loved it so much.
"Is not," mumbled Hanna.
I turned to find Boris' face right in mine. We touched noses, which was plain weird. "Whoa there, big guy, what you doin'?"
"Putting heads together."
"Oh, right, yes, haha, good one." I stepped away and he stepped forward and gently head-butted me.
Aunty took over and steered Boris away to the whiteboard. She gave him a pen, then tried to explain what it meant while he drew fanciful pies and drooled.
"So, anyone got any plans? Ideas? Aunty, how do you want to go about this?" I asked.
"I think we should smash the drug cartel and get Vamp2 off the streets." She shook her hair back behind her head, puffed out her chest with pride, and waited for the adulation.
"That ain't gonna happen," I told her.
"Stupid plan," said Hanna with relish.
"Not your best," said Mimi with sorrow.
"Crap," said Boris.
Aunty's shoulders slumped.
"But, on the bright side, at least now we know what we won't be able to do, right?" I gave her a Freaky grin — always cheered her up.
"How do we stop them using people for Vamp2 then?" she asked, welling up.
"We need to find out who runs it, who makes Vamp2, and destroy them," said Mimi as she banged her fist down in the table.
"Isn't that kind of what Aunty just said and we all agreed that wasn't going to happen?" I asked, confused.
"Great idea, Mimi," said Hanna.
"Boris snap necks."
"But, but, you guys just said…" Aunty slumped into a chair.
"Look," I told them, "there's no way we can destroy a massive drug operation and take Vamp2 off the streets. The vamps love it, the dealers have it, and we don't have the resources to even try to go up against a horde of gangster vampires who probably make billions."
"Actually, there's never hardly any supply," said Aunty. "Remember, it's fresh, never more than a day or two old, and that's the only way it works. It gets weaker by the day, so it gets made on a constant basis. That means they have somewhere they make it, probably a single location where it all comes from. If we find it, we can destroy it all, free the people, destroy the ones in charge, and sleep easy tonight."
"Oh, right, I see," I said with maybe a touch of sarcasm. "And are we doing all that before or after dinner?"
"Don't be such a grouch," Mimi told me. "She's right. It's made fresh daily, but the dealers never have more than a day or two's worth. Maybe if we follow them we can find where they go and who they get it off. Then follow their dealers until we get back to the source. It's a good plan."
"Wait, I'm confused," I told her. "A minute ago Aunty's idea was crap, now we all agree we're doing it?"
"Actually, it was my idea that was the good one," Mimi reminded me.
"No, it was the same as Aunty's."
"Was not. Hers was rubbish, no offense, Aunty, but mine will work." Mimi crossed her arms, end of conversation.
"So are we all agreed?" I asked. "We'll follow leads, chase down trails, do whatever we have to do to find out where Vamp2 is made then destroy anyone involved, take it off the streets, and free all the poor souls being basically milked of their life force to let the vampires get high? Then we'll come home for dinner?"
"YES!" came the resounding reply as fists pumped in the air.
You had to admire their spirit. Just not their brains.
Gang in Action
You know those scenes in westerns where the gunslingers walk in a line down the middle of the street, all spaced out and walking slowly, hands twitching, poised to grab their guns, eyes darting everywhere, all looking utterly cool? Now picture us like that, spreading out from the front door to mosey down the wide, curved steps and onto the gravel to approach our vehicles.
The sun was behind us, casting long shadows ahead, so you can only see our silhouettes. There was me with the new bow and arrow, funky shades on, leather jacket flapping. There was Aunty, hair trailing in the wind, tight vest and bell bottoms, then the lithe figure of Hanna, the meaty monster that was Boris, and Mimi wearing her usual skintight outfit, dressed all in black, knife strapped tight against her thigh, cats at her side.
It would have looked awesome, and I pictured the scene as if watching from in front. The Freaky Finders were dangerous, and woe-betide anyone who got in their way.
But then the ranks broke as Boris saw a bee and chased after it, the cats saw a bird and jumped into the bushes, Hanna yawned and sat on the step to wait, Aunty stumbled and I had to grab the back of her vest so it ripped and fell away revealing a very pretty pink and white bra that seemed an odd choice for such an outing. I stared at her quizzically and she replied, "What? You never know who you might meet," before retreating back inside to get changed.
"I need a wee," moaned Mimi.
"Course you do." I joined Hanna on the steps. "What a team, eh?"
"Still amazes me we get anything done."
"Yeah, me too."
"Boris lost bee," said the big guy as he returned and plonked himself down on the step between me and Hanna, forcing us both to scoot over or be crushed.
Eventually the team was reassembled and we stood beside the vehicles, bickering over who was going with who and figuring out what we were actually doing anyway. We really should have figured that all out inside in the warmth before we exited the building.
After careful consideration, meaning I didn't want a car full of jabbering freaks, Mimi said she would take the bus with her cats and Boris and Aunty, leaving Hanna to come with me. I was about to object, then realized I had no reason to, so everyone loaded up, got their instructions, and the bus tore off while Hanna and I got into the Freakmobile.
"We gonna go then?" she asked, opening the glove compartment and rummaging about.
"Don't do that," I told her, slamming it shut.
"Why not?"
"It's my stuff, and it's rude."
"Why is it rude? This is a car. Surely it's just car stuff in there?"
"If you thought it was just car stuff in there why are you being nosy?"
"Just because," she replied, yawning.
"Well, don't." I started the car and drove off carefully, for some reason wary. As I pulled out into the road, I realized why I felt uneasy about having Hanna with me. The truth was I don't think we'd ever been alone much. Usually there was someone else around, or if it was just me and her it was usually me giving her grief for something stupid she'd done, would do, or was in the process of doing. We never spent quality time together like Aunty and I did.
"So," I said to break the ice, "how's things? Any boys on the scene?"
Hanna turned and stared at me, but didn't speak.
"What?"
"Boys? What are we, like twelve or something?"
"Just asking. You know, making conversation."
"I get it, you feel awkward, not sure what to say. It's understandable."
"What, me? Haha, don't be silly. Why would you say that? Haha"
"Because we never talk, we never have a one-on-one. It's always you and Aunty. And besides, I'm awesome, and dangerous, and I intimidate men. They don't like it that I'm so confident, so powerful. It makes them feel weak."
"I don't feel weak, I'm uber-powerful, full of magic and Essence and got these killer eyes. But yeah, you're right, we don't spend much time together. Hey," I said with a wicked smile, "you aren't jealous, are you?"
"Shut up, you stupid man." Hanna punched me, but not hard, on the shoulder, and we both smiled. The ice was broken, we'd said what needed to be said without actually saying it, and so our adventure could begin.
You Again
Hanna and I watched from the comfort of the car as the dealers went about their business. Seemed like having their boss' arm melted off wasn't enough to stop the rest of the crew from earning. Already there was a new leader in place. One of the others had stepped up, and judging by the bruises and the limps it had not been a takeover without a battle.
This was the way of gangs. They pledged their loyalty to each other, a band of brothers and all that crap, but when you got down to it they were all out for number one and wouldn't hesitate to turn on each other if they thought there was something in it for themselves. There was no loyalty, no bond, just greed and stupidity.
