“Yo,” Buck said running after the pirate, “we can’t just leave him there. That guy is a genuine monster.”
“Hahaha, fuck him.”
“That’s messed up Joey. How many times has he covered your ass and you’re just going to leave him?”
“That asshole is more than capable of taking care of himself. If he wants to get away he can at any time. The fact is that he is so full of himself he -wants- to fight Mr. Trunks For Thighs over there. Right now I’m concerned for myself because that guy could kill me the instant he gets a chance. I’d look after myself if I were you as well.”
“Damn… Sentri, even you’re leaving him?”
“What? No! I’m putting some distance between us before setting up cover fire. I can probably create a sniper post on the roof of one of these buildings.”
With the sound of youngster riding their first roller coaster, The Metal flew overhead screaming as he crashed into a storefront.
“Or we just keep running instead. Running sounds good.”
Twisting and turning through a labyrinth of back roads and alleys, the men found themselves at what appeared to be the site of a crash between an abandoned fish market and factory strike. Boxes filled with rotting meat lined their sights along chain link fences and padlocked gates wrapped Chinese warning tape. As far as anyone could make it out they had landed into a dead end. Joe attempted to climb up the fencing but dropped down immediately after three pounds of cluster shot from the Hexhunter’s gun clanged against the top.
“You know, I have to admit this was rather entertaining. I’ve never had to work this hard for a mark. It’s usually three seconds then boom, I’m on my way back to the HQ.”
“That’s what she said.”
“And then the snot-nosed brat ruined it. Oh well, can’t expect everything to end as well as it started.”
“That’s what…
Graves cocked his massive gun and lost all look of enthusiasm before Joe could finish his statement. He was ready to pull the trigger, but he missed as his arm was jerked up by The Metal landing on the ghoul’s shoulders like a small monkey. Jonathan struggled in a tantrum to shake the guy off until he was able to grab The Metal by a leg and whirl him into another wall. The Metal sprung back in a dashing leap toward the goliath.
Bckowh! That was the sound the barrel made as the rounds left it and flew through the daring martial artist’s head in point-blank range. His body fell limp as it slid across the ground in the same path he was already heading. The others stood there in a shocked state similar to when a child finds out that Santa Claus is a man in a suit hired for their parents' holiday shindig.
“Okay, now that I don’t have to worry about the rooster anymore, it looks like the hen house will be easy pickin’s.”
As The Metal’s sensation of this world faded swiftly, he could only make out Graves strutting slowly toward his friends and brother, the sound of them screaming in distress for him, and the cold wet ground of the alley beneath. Then it was black. The only other sensation was an audible voice that couldn’t have been coming from the world around him.
“Are you really going to let him kill brother? I thought much better of you than that, such a pity.”
They panicked. Jonathan Graves crept ever closer with all three of them boggled with different worries. Buck couldn’t comprehend how that asshole he’d known all these years would get shot down in a back road in Hong Kong. Being the first mate he’d always been, Sentri was mostly focused on how he could get himself and the others out of this mess as well as how he was going to explain this to the folks back home. But Joe, he had a bizarre thought going through his mind. Of course, he was filled with all the anxiety, fear, and dread anyone with a death sentence should have. The strange part was that there was this loud and overlying feeling of disappointment, anger, and resentment in his brother. After all, the oldest brother was always supposed to be there to fish the younger ones out of a jam, and yet now he was just there lying on the ground: useless. Don’t think it a selfish thought, that just the way the world is supposed to be.
“So punk, any last words?’
“Yeah,” Joe said looking toward his brother’s corpse, “Get the fuck up you useless son of a bitch!”
“You don’t quite understand how this all works, do you? Oh well, at least it’s not the same final phrase I always get.”
The men shut their eyes and braced for their inevitable reunion with The Metal. Graves pulled the trigger, yet events didn’t proceed as expected. The gun backfired on him scarring his hand and arm in the process. Standing there with the barrel bent up in his clutch was The Metal covered in blood leaking from a fair-sized hole in his head.
“But… I killed you!”
“Yeah, well I got better.”
“What kind of monster are you!?”
“Oh, you’re one to talk.”
“No matter, I’ll just kill you again and then take care of the brat.”
Jonathan drew a hefty revolver filled with bullets large enough to tear apart an engine block from within his jacket, but The Metal’s leg flew like lightning and kicked the gun clear over several buildings. Within the same spinning motion, he shifted to his other leg and struck Graves in the chest and sent him across the length of the alley. He jumped along after him and began speaking as he threw the fiend back and forth down the back roads.
“Listen, buddy. This goes to you and anyone else that might have wild ideas in the future. There is a long line of people that want to kill my brother, but it starts behind me.”
After only a minute of beatings, the Hexhunter was sitting against a wall barely conscious with The Metal standing over him. The others caught up, still in shock, and wondered what they were to do with the guy.
“Hey, Sentri.”
“Yeah Metal?”
“I know I promised I wouldn’t kill anyone, but does it count if the creep is already dead?”
“You know,” he said tossing Joe’s bladed gun to him, “fuck it. This is one story I’d rather not have to tell people anyway.”
The Metal flipped off a restriction plate within the gun and let off a blast of plasma that would melt an armored bus. There were no remains of Jonathan Graves. The Metal plopped on the ground and tore off the legs of pants and began bandaging himself up with what he had. Despite clearly being fit to fight they all stared at the man they were sure should be far past critical condition.
“How in God’s name are you even alive?”
“Yeah, you were shot in the face with the biggest shotgun I’ve ever seen!?”
“Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad if I got back up, right?”
“Dude, I could see through the back of your skull all the way to that creep’s ugly mug for a second.”
“You’re exaggerating, I’m fine.”
“At least let me take you to a hospital. We have the funds to get you to the best in the territory.”
“Sorry Sentri, we’ve got no time. Our barge leaves in two hours. Come on Buck!”
He flipped his stocky cohort on his shoulder and took off into the sunrise toward the northern coastline of the island.
“I swear to God, what am I ever going to with that guy?”
“You’re preaching to the choir Sentri.”
Comments (1)
See all