Death Calls

by Al K. Line

  Although I'd eaten plenty, I was ravenous. Using magic makes a wizard hungry like you wouldn't believe, and I think the stint as Death had made my tummy believe it had missed several thousand meals.

  Goddamn, what was I going to do? How could I have screwed up so monumentally? How had I got myself killed this many times? I was a right idiot and undeserving of my wizard status. Nobody else got themselves killed, because if they did that was it.

  I guess this was the thing. I played fast and loose with the rules because I knew I could. Knew I had extra lives so didn't act with sufficient caution and did stuff no sane person would. Sure, I had juicy adventures and awesome artifacts because of my risk-taking, but at what cost?

  Was it worth it?

  I grinned to myself as we approached the garage. Who was I kidding? Of course it was. Worst case scenario? I became Death then returned and lived my life. It would be hellish, I would be a changed man, but at least I had something to look forward to. Everyone else had one go at life, then they met me or someone like me on the other side, and off they went to eternity. Me, I was different, some might even say special, and for that I suppose I would be forever begrudgingly grateful.

  Yet I vowed that if I did somehow get killed, then when I came back I would be more cautious, a new and improved Arthur who didn't take as many chances. Because, and it only really hit home for the first time, what if I had one more life afterward rather than another fifty?

  I could die, come back, and then die again and that would be it. So why risk it? Stay alive, stay with my family, try to keep Vicky out of trouble, and worry about all the usual stuff.

  Talking of worry, I still didn't know who the new head of Cerberus was. They hadn't introduced themselves and that made me nervous. I was obviously on their radar. Hell, look what had happened at the warehouse. All gone now, all those people, all those artifacts, and yet most were stashed in a secret location nobody knew the whereabouts of. The new person in charge was sure to be keeping an eye on me.

  Suited me. If they stayed away from me then I would reciprocate. I wanted to get on with my life without their interference.

  And then we had the vampires. After the invasion from the east, Ivan had come down hard on the vampires, purging anyone who showed less than total commitment in his employ. He ensured that the majority, vampires who went about their lives like citizens for the most part and paid little more than lip service to the traditions and ways the old-timers maintained, continued to live as they had. Under the radar, in plain sight yet unobtrusive, keeping a low profile and content to feed discreetly in special places they could go to where the blood was free and the offerings more than willing.

  "Arthur, I said where first?"

  Vicky was staring at me funny. I looked up to find we were standing outside the garage. How long had we been here.

  "Oh, sorry, just thinking. Let's get out of here."

  I drove out and the doors closed, hopefully locked up tight with the wards for many more years. I exited the badlands for a half mile so the surroundings were more pleasant and I could think without being depressed by the ghetto.

  Offers I Can Refuse

  Kim had given us a whole litany of possible locations for Jake, each less savory than the last. From flophouses to dealers' corners to where I'd first met him, it was an extensive list.

  We had little choice but to go through them one by one.

  Problem being, we'd stick out like a sore thumb driving around trying to find addresses. Scouts would be running back to the handlers and telling everyone to scarper, as we looked like a pair of mismatched detectives. The old, streetwise grizzled one and his overly enthusiastic new recruit. This was the problem with Vicky. Although she was my age, she seemed twenty years younger. It was partly her size, or lack of, partly the way she dressed, mostly because she was so full of energy and vitality that she simply had to be young. She always had a spring in her step and a smile on her face, and with her ponytail bouncing about like a frisky puppy's tail you could easily mistake her for someone half her age.

  I told her all this, much to my chagrin, because she beamed at me like I'd given her a raise and asked, "Do you really think I look young? What about these lines at the corner of my eyes? Look." Vicky got right up in my face and dragged down at the corner of an eye.

  "Vicky, you're in your forties. Everyone has wrinkles, you should count yourself lucky. Most women would kill for fine skin like yours at any age."

  "I do moisturize," she said, like I cared.

  "Whatever. Anyway, what I'm saying is that we'll have to walk again. We look too dodgy driving about looking for Jake. We'll scare everyone off. If we walk, we'll blend in a little. If you could stop looking so damn perky it would help too. Here, hang on." I pulled over then jumped out of the car and ran after a woman walking a mottled greyhound in the fresh early evening air. Several minutes later, and after an annoyingly tough negotiation, the woman was down one army surplus jacket and I was down serious cash.

  I jumped back into the car and turned the heater up. "Damn, it's cold out there now. Here, put this on. You'll look less like a soccer mom and more like you're down on your luck."

  "I'm not wearing that. It's khaki. I don't do khaki."

  "Think of it as a disguise, of being a detective and wanting to keep your identity hidden so you can catch the bad guys. Okay?"

  "Oh, yeah, cool. We are like detectives, aren't we? Out looking for our criminal, hunting him down."

  I sighed. "Yes, Vicky, that is exactly what we're doing. Have you just realized?"

  "Um, no, I just hadn't thought about it like that."

  "So put the bloody coat on and let's get going. It's gonna get freezing cold and I don't want to be traipsing around here all bloody night."

  Vicky slipped into the jacket. She looked much better, blended in. I turned off the engine and we got out then I locked up. We were only minutes away from the bad parts but it was a different world. The streets were nice, the houses were simple but the small front gardens were clean, and there were no desperate characters. Guess the slums have to end somewhere.

  We got into our groove, gangster walks and hard eyes in full effect, and headed back into the lion's den.

  We must have done something right, because within minutes of hitting the ghetto we were offered dope, smack, heroin, hookers, money for our bodies, coke, a beating for looking strange, and shouted out by several heroin fiends just because we were there. We fit right in.

  As the day darkened and our mood soured on the whole sorry state of the streets, the occupants, the city, and humanity as a whole, we arrived at our first destination. Kim had said this was somewhere Jake came when he was at a low point and just wanted oblivion. He came here often.

  Little more than a pile of bricks with a partial roof, this was a large building that had definitely seen better days. The door was off, the windows were out, the place was freezing, and it absolutely stank before we even stepped foot inside. Bulbs hung from frayed wires, casting a sick yellow glow on the ratty mattresses, the disintegrating sofas, and the various tables covered in all manner of drug paraphernalia.

  Men and women, young and old, lay about in various states of coma-like bliss. Except not a one of them appeared happy. Sure, they were stoned out of their minds, on whatever trip they were experiencing, but it didn't entice you to try what they were having, it made you want to run a mile and go have a very long shower.

  People shifted about lazily, dreamlike, as they bent to bongs with long pipes and lit the opium in the bowls then collapsed back. Others lay on the crawling carpet with rubber tubes still around their arms, needles sticking out, another nail in their coffin, and others slumped on the sofas, smoking cigarettes, joints, or crack pipes. Hell, I thought there were separate places for different drugs, not everyone getting high in the same place. Why were so many different users huddled together?

  And then I understood. Sure, the place was dirty, and smelly, but nobody actually looked scared. There
were no dodgy dealers here, nobody looming, no burly guys hurrying them to shift it so the next unfortunate could wallow in somebody else's filth.

  A safe haven, a place where they could do what they wanted unmolested by those who would do them harm.

  And then a huge guy covered in ink, with long brown hair, loomed at the doorway. He wore a faded denim jacket, biker boots, and one hell of a mean face.

  "Who are you?"

  "Arthur. You look like a bloody biker reject in that getup. Who sewed your patches, your momma?"

  The guy stared at me funny, his brow furrowing. "Arthur!" he shouted, his face lighting up. He rushed forward and caught me in the mother of all bear hugs.

  "Let me down, you big oaf," I squealed. I was dropped unceremoniously and we stood back from each other.

  "Tiny. Long time no see."

  "Damn, it's been a while. How you doing, Arthur? You look well."

  "Never been better. Man, I never thought I'd see you again. You still doing the rounds I see, still here?"

  "You know it. Always junkies, always need somewhere safe."

  "Guess so. Tiny, this is Vicky. Vicky, meet Tiny."

  Tiny took Vicky's hand and shook it, like a bear shaking hands with a gnat.

  "Nice to meet you, little lady."

  "And you. Er, Tiny was it?"

  "Yeah, that's me. Come on, let's go out the back, it's a little less noxious." We followed him through the hall and took a series of doors until we were at a locked one. He fumbled with keys on his belt chain, unlocked it, then ushered us into a nice clean room.

  The door slammed shut behind us, he locked it, pocketed the keys, and I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  Old Friends

  "Man, it's so good to see you." Tiny grinned and nodded for us to sit at a cheap but clutter-free table in an otherwise empty room.

  "Yeah, it's good to be alive, trust me." I relaxed now I knew he was still cool. Tiny was just being cautious, keeping the room locked so nobody would come in and disturb us.

  "So, you still looking out for the underdog?" I asked, although it was clear he was.

  "What else am I gonna do? Been doing it ever since I can remember, can't see me stopping any time soon."

  "And how are things? The state of it all?" I asked.

  "It's better, and it's worse. The new guy in charge, Ivan, he's a hard one, tough, but he did good, got a lot of bad product off the streets. And he won't sell to anyone who can't pay or is too far gone. But..."

  "But you still get desperate people buying cheap crap and the problem continues?"

  "Yeah, something like that. Some folks can't quit but can't afford the good stuff, so you get the leeches stepping in and ruining everyone's lives. But you know me, I don't judge, and I sure as shit can't get rid of those guys. So here we are, in the ghetto, same old same old."

  Vicky and I exchanged a glance but we both knew better than to let on Ivan was her brother. It was a secret, best nobody knew, for her sake more than anything. But everyone understood he was in charge, and was on the level, at least for a gangster.

  "You still run a few of these places then?"

  "Yeah, not as many, and honestly, things aren't like they were. Man, you remember, you were right in it."

  "I do, and you saved me, Tiny. You let me sort my head out, gave me sound advice, and made me realize I was an idiot."

  "Haha, I remember. Dude, you were one crazy guy back then. Babbling about magic and some wild African wizard. Crazy times. I hadn't been clean long myself and you were one of the first, gave you a safe place to get high and sort your head out if you wanted. You came round, you got out. Never thought you'd be back."

  "Strictly business. And thank you for everything you did. I know you do good work, look after people, and I hate to ask..."

  "You want some info. Arthur, you know how it works. I can't tell you anything the person you're looking for wouldn't want you to know."

  "I know, and I wouldn't ask if I didn't have to. I didn't even know you were still around, looking out for everyone, but I'm searching for a guy. Jake. Lives above the old doctor's surgery, kinda flaky, loose cannon, mixes with people he shouldn't, takes product he shouldn't. I helped him out earlier, got some dudes off his back, and it cost me plenty. Then he stole something and I need it back. If you can help, great, if you've seen him today, I'd appreciate a heads-up. Or if you know where he is, a hint would be welcome."

  "I know him, and I know what he's like, but sorry, dude, same rules still apply." Tiny put his hands out palms up and said, "I don't like the guy, he's a first-class knob, and he sure as shit don't deserve that fine lady he's got that should know better than to hang with a lowlife like him, but if I did this then what if word got out? All I have is my word and these folks trust me. A few get out, most don't, but I make sure they can be safe while they're defenseless, and I do what I can. So, like I said, no can do."

  "No problem, I understand." I stood and Vicky joined me. "Nice to see you again, and thanks for all you did in the past, you're a life-saver. Literally."

  "All part of the service." Tiny and I shook, his meaty paw gripping like a vice. He held tight and didn't let go as he looked into my eyes and said, "Stay clean."

  "You know it."

  He let us out and we headed toward the door, his heavy footsteps behind us somehow comforting.

  Someone came in as we were leaving and as they passed under the light I muttered, "Well, I'll be damned," and lunged forward.

  Jake spotted me a moment before I was on him and his eyes widened then he turned and was out the door before I could grab him.

  He had my backpack over his shoulder.

  "See ya, Tiny," I shouted as I grabbed Vicky and dragged her out quick-smart.

  The Chase is On

  High or not, it didn't seem to affect Jake's running ability, and within seconds he was at the far end of the street showing no sign of slowing. His slight frame and probably the extreme adrenaline were boosting his muscles. Plus, he knew I was seriously pissed off, and more than capable of snapping his neck.

  I let go of Vicky and sprinted after him, surprised to find my khaki-clad sidekick keeping pace with me easily. I glanced her way and she grinned.

  "I've been training. Just so you won't moan at me for being slow."

  "Good job, partner." I redoubled my efforts, partly because Jake was escaping, but also to outrun Vicky because I'd never hear the end of it otherwise. I was out of luck, she really was fast now.

  We skidded around the corner to see him glancing back at us before he dived through a doorway.

  Right on his tail, we entered the house after him, not knowing what to expect.

  If the place Tiny helped keep safe was stinking and full of people then this made it seem like a pleasant place to spend the afternoon. It was beyond disgusting. No light, hardly any walls, no doors, and no furniture to speak of. Just piles of rags, and people dressed no better than the scraps they lay on, slept on, puked on, or moaned on. But Jake's passage had disturbed several people and we followed the shouts and complaints into a series of large rooms where dividing walls had been knocked out leaving exposed brickwork.

  Jake was halfway through a gaping void that was once a window, the other side of which was a mountain of refuse and more rags and people.

  We hopped over bodies, I pushed several aside, and all the while tried not to fall through the missing floorboards or catch my legs on the jagged ends of exposed pipe that some enterprising soul had failed to rip out completely for the pittance he'd get for scrap.

  "Careful," I warned Vicky as I stepped over a large void, finding it hard to see by the candlelight.

  "I'm fine, hurry up." Vicky jumped neatly and landed on a board that cracked and instantly she was knee-deep under the floor.

  "Idiot." I hauled her out and we jumped the sill then fought through the rubbish as Jake ran up a short overgrown garden, the weeds waist high.

  "Don't get lost, it must be like a jungle fo
r you," I warned Vicky. She poked out her tongue and pouted.

  At the end of the garden, we ducked through a gap in the wall and found ourselves in an alley lit by streetlights, amazingly still intact. Jake was already at the end of the row and heading left so we crunched gravel and went after him.

  By the time we got there, he was halfway down the next street, knocking over several fiends and then steering into the road to gather speed.

  We sprinted for all we were worth, gaining on him, and then he seemed to get a second wind and was gone, around another corner.

  "I think I know where he's going. Come on, this way." I grabbed Vicky's arm and led her through an archway between two houses that had once been a garage, long ago fallen down. We clambered over bricks and then were in another street. Several houses down there was another alley and we took it full speed, disturbing three cats and many more rats as we passed the piles of rotting trash where bags had split and spewed their remains.

  We were now back on a familiar street and as we got to where I assumed he was going my hunch was correct. There he went. He glanced around, failed to spot us, and went through the green door. There were no lights on in the upstairs window so I could only assume Kim had left, never to return. Good luck to her.

  We reached the door and I was just about to pull Wand out and wake him from his slumber—he sure did like to sleep a lot, like a dog—when Vicky pushed on it and it squealed as it opened. She tutted, an expert tutter was our Vicky, and I shrugged.

  Inside, all was quiet, not a sound could be heard. Where were the other occupants? I knew it would be somewhat transient in nature, but surely the other rooms and makeshift apartments were occupied? Maybe everyone was out? Maybe everyone was stoned?

  We headed upstairs, taking it slow now we had Jake cornered, not wanting any nasty surprises and definitely not because we were both knackered and breathing heavy.

  At the door to their apartment, I let Vicky go first to work her magic at opening doors but she shook her head.