Shadow Dragon

by wade coleman

  “On the ground now!” a tall, slender man yells.

  I lie on my stomach, and they zip-tie my hands behind my back, stand me up, roughing me up as much as they can.

  “You’re the guy with the bitchy whore,” the tall man tells me.

  The fat man stands behind me, holding my biceps, while the other keys his mike: “We got him.”

  He unclips a baton from the bike and walks over. “Until Blue Dog gets here, your pussy-whipped thieving ass is all mine.”

  He swings his long arm, and the baton connects with my gut. Twice in one night, my spider-silk vest distributes the blow and saves me from injury.

  His grin turns into confusion when I don’t bend over in pain.

  “You shouldn’t have called her names, not when she’s in earshot,” I sneer.

  He makes a tight smile, then tightens his grip on the baton.

  To my left is the sound of a Mac 10 pistol. Kim is looking down her sights, squeezing off rounds while walking toward us. The fat man holding my arms drops to his knees when a slug hits him in the shin.

  Turning, I kick him in the face and his nose crunches. Blood pours down his chin, and he falls backward.

  The thin man fires his Uzi at Kim. Closing the distance, Kim fires single shots. A bullet penetrates the man’s Kevlar vest, and he takes a step back.

  He continues firing short bursts at Kim. Two rounds find her torso, slowing her down, but her spider-silk vest does its job, and she closes in on the slender man.

  After putting in a fresh clip, Kim’s next round penetrates his leg. He fires back, pistol on full auto.

  I drop to the ground.

  Kim’s final round pierces his neck, and he drops the gun, goes to his knees, holding his throat with blood seeping between his fingers.

  Putting my bound hands behind my butt, I sit down. I wiggle one leg and then the other through the cuffs, so my hands are in front. Then I grab my pocket knife and cut my bonds.

  While I free myself, Kim casually puts a round in the fat man’s head.

  We hear the sound of motorcycles approaching and hurry back to where our bikes are hidden. I dial the Detective. He answers on the first ring.

  “What’s going on?”

  Out of breath, I connect the headset and put on my helmet. “I disabled the armor, and they’re after us.”

  “Get an exit; I have an eye in the sky.”

  “It’ll be me and a girl coming from the south.”

  Avoiding the trails, we approach the south gate, where we’re spotted by three more men on bikes.

  Speaking through my headset, the Detective advises, “Keep going, there’s no one between you and the gate.”

  We make a break for it, Kim in the lead with better eyes and a dirt bike.

  The bullets from their Uzis go wide. Kim and I drive single file in the rut, lights from our headlights illuminating the gate.

  Twenty yards from the exit is a police cruiser, one man with a rifle resting on the hood of the car, the other officer’s rifle resting on the roof.

  Kim and I drive around the car, and the cops open fire on the Sons of Chaos. We don’t bother to look, but just keep moving, making our way around the cruiser and back on the road.

  Once the sounds of battle recede, I call the Detective again. He picks up right away.

  “You guys are under fire,” I say.

  “It’s under control. Where are you?”

  “Heading south.”

  “There’s a metal building with the windows missing a few miles up, meet me there in an hour.”

  Kim and I find a gravel drive overgrown with weeds leading to a round building with doors on each end, the metal rusted through in places, bindweed growing up its side.

  “I’m leaving,” Kim says and takes off.

  I hide my bike under a rosebush next to a set of concrete steps, the only signs that a house once stood here. Scanning the horizon with my goggles, I see a car approachings in the distance, and in the shade of a gingko tree, I melt away.

  The car parks inside the building, and the Detective gets out. Stepping out of the shadows, I slip into his footprints, matching his steps as he walks to the road. My light steps are masked by his. It’s easy sneaking up on big men like the detective. He makes so much noise each time his boot heal connects to the ground that he does not hear me.

  He looks both ways, turns around and bumps into me, knocking me back a step.

  “Jesus Christ! Where did you come from?”

  “Did you get the safe?” I ask.

  “It got burned up when you set fire to the armored truck.”

  “It had to be done. That much firepower would have done a lot of damage.”

  “No argument there, but I needed the contents of the safe to shut down the Vory.”

  “So what? Someone else will be selling guns tomorrow.”

  He pushes me against the car, his belly pinning me to the door, and pokes a sausage finger at me. “The Vory are body snatchers. They run a chop shop under the sex club.”

  He backs up, and I can finally take a deep breath.

  “So, are we square? I found the safe as you asked.”

  “And now you’re just going to walk away from this?” he asks.

  “I want to know where I stand. Are you asking now or telling me what to do?”

  “We’re not done until I have hard evidence that the Vory are body snatchers.”

  “Sounds like you’re telling me.”

  “I have a job that needs to be done, and you have a talent for getting in and out of tight spots.”

  “So, what’s next?”

  “The Vory run a body augmentation shop they run from the basement of Alexander’s. It a cover to harvest body parts. Vory don’t trust computers, so they use paper to keep their books. Those records burned up with the safe. On the third floor of the clubhouse, they keep a backup copy on an old computer with no internet access.”

  I pull my bike out of the rosebush. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “What did you do to the back door of the Super Store?”

  I hop on my bike. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The metal on the door alarm was brittle like it was exposed to extreme cold.” He leans on the handlebars. “Why destroy the switch? You’re already inside the store?”

  I turn on the battery to my bike. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. So, if you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long night, and I would like to go home.”

  He steps away from the bike. “I hope you’re as good a thief as you think you are. Otherwise, you’ll never make it out of Alexander’s alive.”

  I turn on my headlight. “Don’t worry about me.” I grab my spider-silk vest and show him the fabric. “Detective, a little advice… invest in the latest body armor.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The sun rises behind me, and the wind is cool against my face as I ride home. The gates to Ceres are closed, two men with M-16’s sitting at their post. Taking my helmet off, I show my face and they open the gate. Bob steps out of his shelter and walks up to me while the gates close from behind.

  “What happened?”

  “Sons of Chaos and the police had it out at the Refinery.”

  He nods a single time. “Did you get away clean?”

  “Does the One Ring rule them all?”

  Bob smiles and raises the gate. It a short ride to the driveway and I turn right. The garage door opens when I roll up. Driving inside, I spot day in his chair. A rifle is beside him on the metal table with clips laid out in neat little rows. After getting off my bike, I wash my face in the utility sink.

  “How’d it go?”

  “The safe burnt up with the armored pickup and the detective wants me to retrieve the backup disc from the sex club, Alexander’s. It’s the Vory headquarters.”

  I dry my hands. “Detective Coleman asked me how I froze the door alarm at the Super Store.”

  “What did you say?”

  “That
I didn’t know what he was talking about because I was never inside the store.”

  “Good answer,” Dad scratches the two-day growth on his chin. “He’s got nothing on you, but it’s best to make him happy.” Daniel puts away his rifle in a metal cabinet and locks it. “Kim filled me in on you getting caught at the Refinery. Son, you’re cutting things too close.”

  “It was pretty dicey, but Kim came through. Her methods are brutal…but effective.” I look at Dad. He’s been up for days, and he looks as bad as I feel.

  He gives a sad smile. “I know you have a kind and empathic heart. I know it grieves you for what Kim does.” Dad puts his hand on my shoulder. “Son, this is war, and terrible things happen in war.”

  I walk away, keeping my back to Daniel. “I know they’re bad guys. They shot up two cops and who knows who else. After the gunfight, the two men were down. Kim walks up casual and puts a round in each of their heads. Is that what you did in war?”

  Dad puts his arm on my shoulder and walks me inside the house. “What Kim did was necessary to protect the mission.” He walks me to the door of my room, “You’re tired and smell like diesel fuel. Shower and get some shuteye. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  * * *

  I’m parched with thirst on a desert landscape, naked and sunburnt. In the center of a dust devil is a fire. The incandescence forms a man, and he steps out of the whirlwind.

  “Congratulations, you came through the dragon’s breath. Now I will grant you a wish.”

  I say through parched lips, “I could use a drink.”

  The blue-skinned djinn raises his hands.

  I’m surrounded by a whirlwind, and when the dust settles, I’m standing in Rick’s Bar in Casablanca, naked and sunburnt. Bogart comes over and says, “Listen, pal, we have a dress code, so you got to put on a jacket and tie if you want to stay.” A waiter comes over, puts on a tie and cinches it. He then hands me a coat.

  “That’s better. Now, kid, what will you have?”

  “Vodka straight.”

  “You don’t want to drink that. Everyone will think you’re Russian.” Bogart pours me a drink with a rich amber hue. “Bourbon is the drink of the working man.”

  Suddenly, I realize everything is in black and white, and this is a dream. That I’m wearing a tie and jacket and nobody cares that I have no pants. I laugh.

  “What’s so funny, kid?” Bogart asks.

  “Don’t you think it’s odd that I’m not wearing pants?”

  Bogart shrugs. “I just figured you were from Iraq.”

  “Huh?”

  Well, your face is exceedingly black, and from your feet to your head, you’re sunburnt and red, so I figured you’re a man from Iraq.”

  “Huh?”

  “Forget it, kid, it’s just a limerick,” Bogart says and pours me my second. “So, kid, how did you get here with a war going on?”

  “Oh…a djinn granted me a wish and I asked for a drink.”

  “Well, you come to right place, kid,” Bogart pours me my third.

  * * *

  It’s early afternoon when I wake up – a good ten hours of sleep. Heading to the kitchen, I stretch along the way, find some eggs with cheese to cook and get some life back into my body.

  After the meal, I look at the tablet computer that Kim stole from the doctor. His notes say the virus overwhelms the immune system and fills the lungs with fluid. Death occurs within twelve hours after the first symptoms. None of the Type A mutants that had the flu shot got sick. The Purebloods didn’t want to engineer a virus that kills their favorite organ donors. It was Dr. Anderson, the chief administrator of the hospital who gave the order not to give antiviral meds.

  I wonder why anyone would want to wipe out ninety percent of the mutant population. Who’s going to unload the cargo from the docks and do their dirty work? With gasoline so expensive, it’s easier to use trolls for the heavy lifting rather than using machinery that guzzles fuel. Just when the mutants get organized and old enough to vote, someone is planning to kill us off.

  Kim comes into the kitchen while I sort through my thoughts and finish breakfast.

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “Shopping.” She opens her pack and pulls out thirty rounds of ammo and a cleaning kit for the pistol.

  I pick up my plate and put it in the dishwasher. “I wouldn’t be around Bob with a gun if I were you. He’s always high.”

  “Bob’s got Multiple Sclerosis. He’s high all the time because he’s in pain all the time.”

  I sit down. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

  Kim goes to the fridge and gets some iced tea along with two glasses. She pours us each a glass and sits down. “What did the cop want?”

  “Detective Coleman wants me to find the backup files to prove the Vory are running bodies out the back of the sex club.”

  “Alexander’s is holding its annual summer rave on Wednesday, and this year it’s a full moon,” Kim says.

  “How much do you know about the layout?”

  Kim opens her cleaning kit and lays it out on the kitchen table. She breaks down her Mac 10. “The first floor is a bar and dance floor. The second-floor rooms are rented by the hour. The third is Vory headquarters. Downstairs is the body augmentation shop. Blue skin and horns are in this year.”

  “Before we go in, I need to check out the Broadmoor Manor. That’s where the chief administrator of Mercy Hospital lives.”

  Kim puts her pistol back together. “What’s the plan?”

  “I’ll pay him a visit to his home tonight.”

  “How are we getting in?”

  “We’ll drive to the perimeter fence. You wait there for me while I go in.”

  “You mean we go in.”

  “No, you don’t want to follow the way I’m going.”

  Kim gets up and paces. “I need some face time with the doctor who killed Cindy.”

  I get up and lean against the kitchen counter. “Dr. Jefferson is just a tool, an instrument of someone higher. I want to find who he works for.”

  Kim walks up to me and makes a fist. “I want to hurt him.”

  “So do I, but let me do it my way.”

  “Take me with you on your shadow walk.”

  “No. We need to know who paid Doctor Jefferson to let the mutants die. That’s our real enemy.”

  Kim points her finger at me like she’s going to say something, and then stops. Turning, she walks outside onto the front lawn, talking to herself.

  Her voice sounds angry, then hurt. Later I walk outside. Kim is quietly crying on the front porch.

  I sit down next to her. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

  Kim wipes her eyes. “Kukan said to uncover deception; you need skill in deception. That’s why I should listen to you, the expert.” She grabs the back of my shirt and blows her nose.

  “Did you just blow snot on my shirt?”

  She ignores me: “Kukan also said that this was the work of spiders, men who have many connections to government and business.” She crosses her arms. “So we’ll do it your way.”

  “You were just talking to Kukan?”

  “Yeah, and she wanted me to tell you to choose your move carefully, carefully, carefully.”

  The hair stands up on the back of my neck. I’ve been playing chess since I was twelve. That’s a quote from one of the books I’ve read. I want to ask more questions, but I have to get online.

  Kim gets up, takes off her shirt and walks inside. She heads to my room. “I need a shower. From last night, I still smell of diesel.”

  I follow her inside and sit down at my desk. I turn on my desktop computer the satellite dish and wait for the two devices to get acquainted. Daniel is a heavy into security. Simplest security is the best. You can’t remotely hack a computer when the internet is down and the computer is turned off.

  The internet comes online. “Natasha, check Mark’s Aviation Account. Take all precautions.”

  She takes control of my fingers
and types. “The full immersion helmet was delivered to the Aviation Center.”

  After a pause, she continues: “The jet engine is scheduled for tomorrow at the self-storage facility.”

  Using a disposable phone, I forward the details of the delivery to Daniel. “Natasha, display a map of the subdivision where the hospitable administrator lives and memorize everything, electrical layout, sewers, etc.”

  Before I can finish the sentence, she replies “Done.”

  “How much do you understand about what’s going on?”

  “I was designed to understand time and space, so people and things connect. I understand you are arranging things so we can go to flight school.”

  “Yes, that’s true, but I also have other obligations.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’m a thief, that’s how I make money so I can buy things.”

  “Yes, I understand, we need food, a home, and an airplane.”

  “Do you know how much a Learjet 35D costs?”

  “Twelve million credits.”

  I lean back in my chair. “As a mechanic, I make a thousand silver a year, which converts into ten thousand credits. It would take me twelve hundred years to make enough to buy a Learjet.”

  “Perhaps you should find a way to spend more of Mark’s money from the Aviation Account.”

  I can almost feel the gears of her mind turning.

  “Who are you talking to?” Kim asks from over my shoulder. Her hair and hips are wrapped in my towels. She doesn’t cover her breasts.

  I swivel my chair and talk to her nipples that are looking down at me. “I was talking to my implant, Natasha. She’s finding my freestyle life as a thief agreeable.”

  “Me, too. The hours and pay are better, and it would take me years to earn what I got from the Super Store robbery.”

  I smile at the pair of nipples staring at me and nod. “How come you’re not all offended by my lack of eye contact?”

  “It not fair that men get to walk around on a hot day with no shirt. I should be able to air dry my pits just like any man.

  I nod. “You’re preaching to the choir.”