“Don’t mind him. He’s just making sure everything is alright in the apartment. Now, there were reports of a woman screaming - was this your…..friend?” Jimmy raises an eyebrow.
“Um, no, we were watching a horror movie” Chester’s jaw shifting, he’s lying, that part is obvious. Jimmy wonders how he’s managed to make it so far in Fenghuang. The guys over there are ruthless business types. Probably the son of some executive.
“Looks like it was a horror movie up here” Dixon shouts down as he approaches the bedroom window, looking down into the living room, holding up white and black thongs on each index finger. One of the thongs is splattered with blood around the waistband. Dixon smiles down to Jimmy, who in turn looks at Chester while crossing his arms.
“Just the one friend was it?” Jimmy asks
His head drops and Chester sighs loudly. “Ok yeah, I had some hookers back here. So what? That isn’t illegal detective!” He raises his arms in argument.
“No, one of those pieces of underwear looked like it had blood on it though, care to explain?” Jimmy nods to Dixon who continues searching around.
Leaving the bedroom he gently pushes open the office door. It’s set out like an old study, many books line the walls, or at least the illusion of books. Dixon running his hand along the spines and discovers that they are all one piece. This guy may be a high-level prick, but he certainly has some cheap taste. Scattered on the desk are little statuettes of people, each of them appearing to represent a different class. The lower GID statuettes wearing raggedy clothing, the mid-level GID’s wearing everything from a regular shirt and trousers to gang-affiliated apparel. The high GID’s have suits and exuberant outfits and stand in egotistical poses.
A group of papers pour out of a folder onto the desk, drawing Dixon’s eyes, he realises he can’t remember the last time he saw physical paper. Written across the front of the folder are the words CONFIDENTIAL! FOR AUTHORISED EYES ONLY. Dixon’s eyes perk up, like seeing this has brought him back to his old LAF force days. He flicks open the cover and sees a long document headed with two company names. Fenghuang and Zero Round. The text reading in long legal terms of a merger between the two. Flipping one of the pages Dixon’s eyes widen even further as he sees a large bold piece of text.
‘Step 2. Reconstruct GID hierarchy’ heads several paragraphs as Dixon skims over. His fists crunch again as he reads further.
“Hey, you can’t read that!” Chester bursts in the room and musters the papers and folder together.
“Paper huh? Wow, I haven’t seen that shit in decades” Jimmy slowly sways into the room following Chester. “Dixon? We’re done here!” Dixon grinds his teeth as he walks out of the office, unsure how to process the words he saw in the document.
“You guys aren’t even high GID’s are you? Keep your filthy fucking hands off my stuff and get out.” His voice grinds at Dixon, stopping him in his tracks. He’d almost forgotten who Chester was, turning he reveals the terrifying lowered brow that used to bring gang members ego down to size.
“March eighteenth, twenty-two eighty. Ring a bell?” Dixon slowly walks back into the office, Jimmy leans in the doorway as the misplaced self-importance drops from Chester’s face.
“No, no, no way!” The colour also drains from Chester’s face, his lips quivering and body tensing up.
“You leave a club with some rancid hooker and drive around like a maniac, all jacked up on god knows how many substances.” Dixon towers over Chester as he recites the events of the night that brings him so much pain.
“Didn’t quite make it home in one piece though did you?” Dixon grabs Chester’s collar, lifting him from the ground up to his eye line.
“You can’t do this to me. You’re just low GID’s!” Chester splutters out through his rising fear.
“Yeah? Who the fuck cares?” Dixon tosses Chester over his desk with alarming ease. Jimmy looks on surprised, he thought his former partner would have lost his strength with all the drinking and destroying himself.
Crashing over the top of the desk and into a pile on the floor, Chester quickly tries to gather himself, pulling the papers back while looking up in anger.
“You two are going to fucking pay for this. Do you have any idea who the fuck I am?” Chester spits at Dixon who circles around the desk towards him.
“You’re the dumb fuck that got loaded and killed my daughters!” Standing over the pile of bile, Dixon’s fists crack again. Swiftly plugging a foot into Chester’s chest he is launched three feet over the room. Wasting no time Dixon then picks him up by the collar, growling as he drags him back to his desk. Chester coughs hard, trying to gasp back air into his lungs before the sledgehammer of Dixon’s fist collides with his face. Blood seeps from his broken lip long before the surge of pain fills his cheek. Dixon pummels his face again and again and again, Jimmy looks on with folded arms.
“Ok that’s enough, Dix” Jimmy shouts as Dixon reels his arm back again. The blood drips from Chester’s face in large clumps onto the cream carpet. Jimmy knows it can’t go too far, but also wants to give this worthless sack of skin to his friend to try and bring some kind of closure. It probably wouldn’t work for Dixon, it would perhaps work for Jimmy.
Dixon looks back at Jimmy, his chest heaving as his whole body aches with rage. He closes his grip around Chester’s collar as he spits blood and tries to open his now swollen eye. Dixon grits his teeth as he suddenly slams Chester’s head against the edge of the desk. An audible crunch and yelp can be heard as he hits the ground unconscious. Dixon turns from his victim and exits the office. Jimmy can’t help but notice that he doesn’t seem to be blinking at all.
Pressing two fingers to Chester’s neck, he confirms he is still alive and brings up the LAF database on his arm.
“HQ? This is Detective Kershon, I’m at the disturbance report at 827 D Yomi heights.” There are some bleeps and chattering noises from his arm and a voice replies.
“Confirmed, what is your status, detective?” The AI voice replies in a clear American accent.
“Yeah, the uh, occupant of the residence was non-cooperative. Had to use force, please send immediate medical support.” Jimmy watches a small dribble of blood seeps out of Chester’s mouth.
A couple of beeps and a whirr later, “Confirmed, medics on route.” Jimmy lowers his arm, the display blinking off. As Jimmy leaves the office and the apartment, he finds Dixon standing in the corridor, almost idling as the door closes Jimmy leans around him.
“You ok buddy?” asks Jimmy
“Yeah, I’m fine” Dixon finally blinks and lowers his head, looking around and eventually catching Jimmy’s eyes. “I’m fine buddy, thanks. I just don’t know how to feel”.
“I’m not surprised. I still don’t know if I want to go back there and finish him off!” Jimmy spreads a smirk as he pats Dixon’s shoulder.
“He’s still alive? I kind of blacked out there.” says Dixon as the two of them leave the building. Jimmy nodding at the receptionist as they pass, she smiles flirtatiously back before seeing the blood dripping from Dixon’s hands and sharply gasps.
Chapter 5
Dropping Dixon off at his home, Jimmy rolls down the window and shouts out, “I’ll come back around tonight. We’ll have some beers or split a bottle of whiskey, yeah?” Jimmy watches his friend shuffle up the steps to the door, not looking Dixon waves a hand back.
Was it the best thing for the prick to be confronted like that? Should it have been the victim’s father that confronted him? Jimmy pondered if justice today was really just people getting revenge. This time it certainly felt like it.
Dixon opens his apartment door and instantly grabbed the bottle that had been left on the counter top. Closing the door he gulped down three large swigs of booze before his eyes lock on something. He stops, taking the bottle from his lips and stumbling forward to the picture of his two little girls in the frame on the wall. Picking it gently from the hook, he holds it close, his eyes beginning to well up as t
he happiest memories of his life pour back into his head.
He hasn’t been able to think of his family in that kind of setting since it all happened. Falling into his chair his eyes look over their hair, their friendly eyes and honest smiles. A small smile emerging amongst the tears, he thinks out loud to himself, “I got him, girls, I got him, you’re going to be okay now.”
Taking a large breath he sighs, a warm feeling grows in his chest as the love for his daughters begins to overtake the intense hatred and pain. Putting the bottle down next to his chair he lifts his arm up. Running his other hand over the tattoo covering his scar, he can still feel the remains of his injury, but now sees beauty in what covers his skin. Running his fingers down the snake’s body followed by the rose he lets out a small chuckle.
“You can rest now, girls,” Dixon says with a closed lip smile. It is not the girls who can rest now, they are already. It is Dixon who can now rest. With that he relaxes in his chair, slowly closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. A rest his mind and body have needed since the crash unfolds some of the stresses in Dixon and he begins to dream.
Sitting on their favourite beach Dixon and Sadie watch as their girls play and splash in the water. Their innocent laughter drifting across the air as Sadie leans into Dixon’s chest, resting her head on him. They watch the girls play in joy as the sun seems to roll perceptibly across the sky, disappearing behind the horizon - the moon then follows after it. The sky lit up like a laser show as the beach is cast in a calming dull white light. Dixon leans in to kiss his wife’s head as suddenly there is a bright white flash.
The desk in Chester’s office flickers into view, and then the folder containing the documents. The cover of the folder flips open and before the text can be read the papers turn a dark red colour. Blood begins to trickle out of the paper creating a larger and larger puddle on the desktop. Eventually pouring off the desk as the whole vision begins to drift off into darkness, in turn, a group of screams grow in volume. People crying out in anguish, begging for help, some angrily screaming. The screams grow larger and larger until they cut out altogether.
A single scream directly in Dixon’s ear jolts him awake. He springs forward in his seat accidentally knocking over the bottle sitting next to it. He picks it up in a panicked fumble, putting it on the counter and breathing heavily. Sweat pours from his forehead as he struggles to realise what just happened. He must have been dreaming, that much he could figure out. What was the end of his dream about though? Dixon’s memory then reminds him of the encounter in the office. The folder with the legal documents, looking over the mention of the merger and the reconstruction of the GID’s hierarchy. As his memory blinks over the image of the pyramid with the heading “old”, the clear distinction of Low-level, Mid-level, High-level, Executive and Council depicted inside it. A smaller pyramid is displayed below it with “new” written above it. There are fewer contents in this one, Low-level, High-level and Council. As Dixon recalls this the screams of his dream bounce around as well.
Calming himself as he processes the information, he picks up the cap for the bottle and screws it on tight. Putting it back in the cupboard and looking around his apartment.
“Welcome back sleepy head,” RJ says.
“What happened?” asks Dixon.
“You passed out, and for once it wasn’t from booze. You’ve needed that in I don’t know how long.” RJ’s voice sounding slightly relieved as Dixon stands up.
“Shit! What a crap heap.” Taking in the amount of neglect he’d given his living space, he thought it a little strange that Jimmy hadn’t mentioned anything when he’d visited. He flicks the switch for the blinds and the slats of metal begin to shift off the windows. The light revealing more abandonment, Dixon slowly begins to realise just how bad he’d let himself sink. Jimmy probably didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to make things worse. There was also the possibility that Jimmy had tried to say something, but Dixon had hit rock bottom too hard to pay attention.
Dixon couldn’t remember much of what happened after his divorce. Most of it was a drunken blur covered in a vomit and piss haze. He raises his arm and presses the display.
“RJ?” he asks.
“What’s up? I’m not ordering you more booze. Oh and don’t mute me again!” She replies with a hint of distaste.
“Oh come on RJ, I couldn’t have you ripping the crap out of that hairpiece.”
“He was a real fucking hairpiece” RJ cracks.
“Is this seriously how my place has been all these years?” Dixon says in realisation.
“This shit sty? Yeah, this is your home. I tried to get you to clean it, you switched me off for three days.” Says RJ
“I did?” Raising an eyebrow Dixon begins to pick up some of the dirty clothes sitting around.
“Yup” she pops in reply “Dick!”
Dixon stops and looks at his arm, holding a ball of clothes he didn’t even know he’d bought. A straight mouthed emoji stares back at him.
“Ok, I’m sorry, guess I’ve been a little fucked up. Not exactly like my life has played out like a fairy-tale.” He opens the large metal washing machine, its squeaking hinges screaming out with lack of use. Closing the lid, he looks for a button to press, the display on the front of the machine flickering before displaying the message “Wash cycle – Heavy duty”. Dixon smirks and tilts his head.
“Turning a new page are we?” RJ asks.
“I don’t know if you saw everything that went down with that dick barnacle, Chester Lopez, but I just had the craziest dream.” Dixon slams the lid closed after pouring in various cleaning liquids.
“Your brain was going wild. Lighting up like a firework display” RJ sounds curious.
“It’s strange, I can remember it quite vividly, RJ. Feel like I should still be trying to figure out if what I did to Chester was right or wrong.” He presses a few lights on the machine and it clunks and shakes to life.
“The dick barnacle?”
“Yeah, seeing that sack bleed was good. Those documents are still in my head though. They are going to try and push even more people into low-level GIDs. What good is that going to do?” Dixon says while pulling an unopened box of kitchen cloths.
“Maybe they are wanting to simplify things?” RJ suggests.
“Yeah, maybe. That’s a scary thought though. People trying to simplify things for the rest of us is going to go wrong somewhere, right?” Dixon finds a bottle of cleaning liquid with a note stuck to it. USE! With a winking face and Jimmy’s initials below it. He had attempted to get Dixon to clean in his own subtle way.
“Sometimes people need things simple, but these Feng guys? They’ve always seemed like a shady group to me, Dix” when RJ used his name Dixon always paid close attention.
Fenghuang was renowned for their success, commercials sprawling over buildings with reviews of their products. Six-star kitchen appliances, the best vacation locations, new and improved body mods. Dixon never understood why they added the extra star to their ratings.
Regardless of all the press they received, everyone knew the rumours. People being tossed off of buildings by executives displeased with their department's staff. Fenghuang muscle, also known as “talons”, had been seen savagely beating people in alleyways, allegedly because they’d bad mouthed the executive levels of the company. The bright yellow highlighting the outline of their yakuza style tattoos. Many of them wearing shirts with the backs removed to reveal the tattoos. Large Chinese phoenix birds beaming in colour, their feathers a fine glowing red. The helmets they wore - a black phoenix head with glowing yellow eyes. Ruthless creatures.
“Fuck,” Dixon says brooding over the consequences of the situation.
“What are you going to do?” RJ’s voice seeming more curious than before.
“I’ve got to speak to Kersh!”
Chapter 6
Jimmy exits his car, pulling the bag of booze from the passenger's footwell. The local kids run past him with their augm
ented reality helmets, looks like their playing some sort of laser tag style game. The noises from their helmets a pleasant change from the normal screaming and anger he’s used to dealing with on the job.
As he walks into the building he sees that the out of order sign on the elevator is still there. The dirt and dust around the frame building up further every time he’s here. He sighs and turns to the stairwell, counting the number of needles and drug inhalers he sees on the way up. There are a couple more than the last time he was here. There’s still a collection of questionable delinquents in this block.
Knocking on Dixon’s door he listens out for the normal bang of Dixon rolling off the bed or sofa with a bottle. Not hearing anything, he assumes that he’s passed out, reaching for the door handle it suddenly swings open.
Jimmy jitters and blinks several times at the sight before him. A tall clean-shaven man, washed and smelling quite pleasant, wearing a neat button up shirt and jeans. Numerous seconds pass before he realises its Dixon.
“Kersh, come on in” Dixon stands aside, Jimmy slowly enters. Looking back at Dixon as he walks into the apartment, he doesn’t even notice the change in the surroundings
“Hey, uh, buddy. Feeling better?” Jimmy musters a smile and hands the bag of booze to Dixon.
Scratching his clean chin Dixon replies “Yeah, feeling a lot clearer…and cleaner” he chuckles, snatching the bag from Jimmy.
“Jimmy, can you help, I think there’s something wrong with Dixon,” RJ says mockingly.
“Wow, what the hell?” Jimmy turns and sees the apartment. It’s not miraculously become a super swanky looking hotel room or anything, but the change is astounding. The floor is clean, the kitchen doesn’t have junk sitting all over it, there’s a dryer with clean clothes draped over it, the dust collecting on the table and chairs is gone. It resembles a perfectly livable space.
“You cleaned!” Jimmy stands in awe of it all. Dixon chuckles again, thinking it a joking quip between friends. Taking the bottles of beer and the whisky out of the bag, he turns back to see Jimmy still gawking.
Neon Haze: Snakes and Roses Page 3