by A. J. Mayall
“The Dellamortes were going to give me a really long contract and you’ve thrown a freakin’ monkey wrench in the works. Now, I have the process to myself, and I’m sure the Dellamortes can find another rift or rough up that gator friend of yours and just take over this little building.”
I shook my head. “But they’re gonna kidnap some teenagers and turn them into fuck slaves!”
“So fucking what? I don’t give a shit as long as I get paid. I’ve worked with him before, and I’ll work with him again. They’re good clients that pay well. Heck, I’ve supplied him with people.”
I looked at him in horror. “I helped you and you tricked me.”
“You’re finally catching on. Good for you. But see, here’s the funny thing; like I said, I wasn’t hired by Ludovic’s family to find him and bring him home. I was hired to find him by his mother’s political rivals. Won’t they be surprised when they find out that their son,” he said, opening up a picture, “goes by Screwloose Squirrel now.”
“Oh, God,” I whispered.
“To think I’ve been trying to find him for all these years, and he was waiting our table just the other day. So, what I’m going to do is go with a fuck-ton of money to his manager and pay them probably $100,000 to say that he quit in exchange for his copyright. I’d find Screwloose and command him to come back with me. Do you know what I’m going to do then? Huh? I’ll sell him for about $1 to that wonderful organization and they’ll beat the shit out of him in front of his mom every day.
“See, I talked with Pamela a little bit about this. She knew who I was talking about when I came here. Seems it was the one time she’d actually tried to do a good deed.”
“What do you mean? She didn’t have a good bone in her body.”
“She didn’t, but she did like to get paid. Ludovic volunteered for this so his family wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. His family paid for it. They knew where he was. They knew their son had to have himself erased so he wouldn’t get murdered by my clients. Won’t they be surprised to see the shadow echo of their son an eternal slave for the very people that they brought him to the United States to escape.”
“I gotta get back,” I whimpered.
“To what? That boyfriend at your apartment? Trust me, I’ll be paying him a visit.”
I whined and knew I only had a little bit of time before Kyle would leave the front gate.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick and painless,” he said before kicking me in the back and twisting his boot. I felt vertebrae separate; my spinal cord was on fire and every inch of me hurt.
I knew that once he got out, he’d probably be getting home around the same time Kyle did.
He stopped at the doorway. “Wait a second. How did you actually get here?” He grinned. “He’s here, isn’t he? He’s on the property. Saves me a trip.”
“Don’t you dare. I’ll fucking put a bullet in you.”
He kicked me in the teeth. I felt a few fly back into my throat.
I went limp and tried to crawl toward the door. He slammed the door on my hand.
“I gotta give it to you, fox, you would’ve been great in this business. Heck, with the information I have here, I think using you as a template is going to make me a lot of money. Toons are immortal! All I have to do is have someone on hand that can pull doctor gags to fix up any wounds I get. I bet your skunk buddy would be more than happy to help me out with that, you know, once he unfucks his brain. I’ll be right back. I just need to use a bullet real fast,” he said, storming up the stairs.
I lay there, screaming, my hand stuck in the door, fingers broken. All I could do is look over at Scratch, bleeding from the mouth.
“Scratch, please he’s going to kill my boyfriend.”
“You shot her.”
“Scratch, he’s going to kill my boyfriend Kyle. You just listened to everything he said. Yeah, I’ve done some bad things, but what he’s going to do is going to be so much worse. And imagine what someone who is trained to do what I’ve done would do with the powers of a toon.”
Scratch looked at me. “You mean, he—”
“He’s going to become like me, half-toon. He’s going to find ways around the gags like I did, and all he’s going to do is hurt people for the highest dollar. No one will suspect him because toons don’t hurt people. Scratch, I’ve hurt and, yes, killed some people, but they were bad people. I’m not saying it excuses what I’ve done, but you heard him.
“He’s kidnapped teens—kids—and sold them for sex trafficking. You can hate me all you want, you can punish me as much as you want, but he’s going to kill Kyle and a lot more people after that, so I need you to be my partner today, please. My back is up against the wall. I’d do anything for him but I can’t shake this off. If I shake this off, I won’t be me anymore and I wouldn’t remember Kyle. I need you to help me.”
I reached out toward him and went limp, my eyes drooping closed.
That’s when I felt his hand touch mine. I opened my eyes and he was looking down at me with a smile. He reached behind himself and pulled out a large syringe filled with a glowing golden liquid. He stuck it in my butt and injected it; it felt like going through a sugar rush.
At first, my legs just hurt. Then they dulled slightly and tingled, and the next thing I knew, they were spinning like a tornado which traveled up my body. Before I knew it, my hand was pulled free from the door and I whizzed around the room. When I finally snapped back, he was hugging me tight.
“I don’t like this, but you’re right; we’re partners. I’m not terribly thrilled with you having a human boyfriend, ’cause I’m supposed to be your friend…but he means something to you, and you mean something to me, and that’s gotta mean something.”
I smiled and stared into his eyes, and in a moment of weakness, I kissed him.
“Thank you!”
He swooned and blushed before stammering out, “What do you want me to do?”
I grinned and pointed at Pamela’s monitor. “I need you to do me a favor,” I said, explaining an idea I’d had earlier that day.
He nodded and hopped through the screen. I snarled, kicked open the door, ran upstairs, and headed to the gate.
When I got there, I saw the car idling. I hurried over and opened the passenger door.
Kyle was missing. On his seat was a note: “I had a feeling you might figure a way out of that mess, and since you’re pretty good at this, I’ll make you deal. Meet me at the warehouse and I might let your boyfriend live.”
I looked around. I had my phone, but I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t reach the pedals in the car.
There was a shuffling behind me. I turned and saw Scratch.
“What are you doing here?”
He said, “We’re partners. We do this together. I’ll be the feet, you be the hands.”
I grinned and we hopped in. I rested my feet on his chest as he sat at the pedals. I turned on the car and tapped with my right foot, sending us peeling out of the driveway and off into the night.
CHAPTER 19
We took a lot longer to get to Chance’s warehouse than I would’ve liked, but Scratch was not a very efficient gas and brake man; he either accelerated too much or at a snail’s crawl. I wasn’t sure if it was because of his toon nature to throw humor into a situation because it was his first time attempting to drive and he couldn’t see out the windshield. We nearly caused three accidents and, luckily, the cops never came after us.
We pulled into the parking area of the abandoned warehouse. I stepped out of the car, still wearing a crap-ton of guns when I heard Chance over the PA system: “Drop my equipment! Step away from it!”
I did as he said.
“Turn around!”
I did, revealing I didn’t have pistols tucked behind my bowtie.
Scratch popped out of the car and stood next to me.
“Hey, skunk!”
Scratch narrowed his eyes and shouted up, “Yeah? What about it?”
�
�Pick up my stuff and bring it in.”
“How do you know I’m not gonna—”
“Because you’re a toon, you idiot.”
I gritted my teeth. Scratch, while a problematic figure in my life, was just following his nature; he didn’t deserve to be treated like that.
Scratch slumped his head, picked up everything I’d dropped, and trundled inside. After a few moments, he came back out looking disheveled and worried.
“He’s got your boyfriend tied up in there! I don’t know if there’s anything we can do.”
I nodded. Scratch looked at me and smiled. He hugged me tight and I felt something at the back of my neck. He gave me a very serious gaze and nodded.
I straightened up and shouted, “I’m unarmed. You’ve got all your equipment back. Can we come in and talk about this?”
“Sure, come on in.”
I walked in slow and methodical; the layout of the warehouse was as familiar as the apartment, but Chance knew me. I kept my back to the wall to reduce the element of surprise.
“So, that stinker of a buddy of yours—”
“Partner,” I said.
“Whatever. He got you all fixed up? I gotta say, if I’d taken a beating like that, I’d been out of commission for the better part of a year, if ever. Now,” he grinned, “with Pam’s process, imagine…no food expenses, no travel expenses. If I want to travel across the country, all I have to do is jump in a screen and pop out somewhere else.
“The ultimate assassin and I can’t even be killed. I’ll live forever, constantly doing what I do best. You are the only people,” he said, gesturing to us and Kyle, who was bound and gagged in the middle the room, “who know about this aside from the Dellamortes and their hands will be just as dirty as, if not dirtier than mine.”
He cracked his knuckles. “So, I’ve got a proposal for you. What I can do is give you an out to all of this, Fairfax.”
“How so?”
“Well, you do one gag and you lose a part of your humanity, but you get to have that one for free from then on. So I’ll just beat up your skunk friend here, you heal him up, and I take you to the Dellamortes. They get me through the conversion process, and you’re my doctor on call from here to eternity. I’ll give you a cut of every job I do, even the ones where I don’t need you.”
“What if I say no?”
“Then I put a bullet in your boyfriend’s brain and I beat the shit out of you until you shake it off. I can find another toon who’s willing to help me out.”
I looked at Scratch. He looked at me and shook his head.
“Okay, maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” I said.
Kyle grunted and shook his head, pleading with his eyes that I should stop.
I looked at him and waved my hand to calm him down. “He’s got nothing to do with this. If your issue’s with me, I’m the only one you need to deal with. You don’t have to run with those people.”
“They pay the best.”
“You could use your skills for good, man. There’re drug lords that could be taken out. There’s—”
He made a yap-yap-yap motion with his hand. “You think that that brings in money? I don’t give a shit about whether or not a group of 11-year-olds is being given meth. What I care about is being able to buy another property off the coast of France.”
There was no way I would get through to him.
Chance scowled, cocked a gun, and put it up to Kyle’s head.
I cried out, “Please don’t do anything!”
“You’ll do a gag?”
I nodded. “Yeah, but can I at least show you what I did to get from here to rescue you?”
He grunted and nodded. “Okay, I’ll admit you had me a little curious about that getup of yours.”
I looked to the pile of equipment at his feet. “Go ahead and put it on, then check out your laptop.”
He adjusted the arm braces and slid his hands in. “Okay?”
“I had Boost on the other end. He basically piloted me. Maybe I could do something like that for you.”
“I don’t need help killing people.”
“I know, but—”
Scratch caught my eye. He tilted his head up a hair.
“But you forgot the other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I was willing to do a gag for this.”
At that, Chance paused. “What sort of gag?”
I reached behind me and pulled the pistol that Scratch had tucked behind the collar of my bowtie when he hugged me. I aimed it at Chance’s head.
“You kill him, I kill you. I’ve been getting better at this, but I’m not as good as you, so maybe I won’t just kill you. I can give you severe brain damage and you’ll just spend the rest of your days shitting your pants and drooling in some fucking hospital as a John Doe, watching cartoons,” I said with a smirk.
Chance narrowed his eyes and pulled back the hammer of the pistol. “I’m gonna take that risk.”
I expected my bluff to be called. Chance looked at the skunk. “That your attempt?”
Scratch nodded. Chance scowled at me. “Put the gun down and kick it over to me.”
I felt defeated, but I knew what I had to do. “Fine. Fuck it. I’ll work for you, do whatever you want me to do. Just let him go. Here, take the fucking gun!” I said, tossing it at him with an overhand throw.
It turned, barrel over grip. Chance went wide-eyed as it was flung toward him. In a panic, he dropped his own gun to make sure he caught it safely.
Scratch screamed, “Now!”
He threw his phone in front of me and I prepared myself. I was willing to do a gag for this, willing to lose a part of myself for this, for Kyle.
Anything for Kyle.
I thrust my arm out, caught the phone in one hand, turned it on, and called my own phone which rang on the vest Chance wore. As I shoved my hand into the screen, I felt that bliss course through me. I strained and stretched; I could feel myself let go. It didn’t hurt as I stretched my arm out further and further, like a piece of taffy.
I looked at the security monitors, and I saw my hand pass by through them. I saw it wrap around and pass over the computer screens near the range.
I heard that voice in my head once more: “It’s okay, just join us. You’re welcome here.”
Chance looked at me in shock and realized that he’d fallen into my trap. Then I looked at Scratch.
Our trap.
My hand burst out of the screen on his chest, grabbed the gun in midair, aimed it under his chin, and pulled the trigger three times.
Kyle screamed into his gag.
I dropped the gun and retracted my arm.
I felt an odd euphoric tingle through me, and I knew that something inside me had changed.
As I approached Chance’s body, his eyes darted around the room as he tried to mouth words. I didn’t know how much of Chance’s mind and consciousness was left; brain matter was splattered all over the place.
“How’s that for a finale?” I said and kicked him in the ribs.
I untied Kyle, who picked me up and hugged me tight. “Sorry you had to see that. I really, really am.”
He shook his head. “I can’t believe we let that man into our house.”
“He’s gone, now. He’s gone.”
Scratch looked at me and I smiled. “I can’t believe you thought of that. Can’t believe you thought of anything that would actually kill someone.”
He nodded. “I-I couldn’t let him hurt kids.”
“That’s what we’re here to do; we protect them.”
“You can protect him in ways that regular toons can’t. If that means I have to think of things that I would never do myself, then so be it.”
Half an hour later, we had covered up Chance’s corpse with a tarp. We sat around, trying to figure out what to do next.
I said, “There’s still the Dellamortes. They know about this process and there’s always the possibility that they have the information on how to do
the conversion. Someone has to stop them.”
“What are you saying?” Kyle said
“I’m saying Chance was right about one thing; I’ve got a knack for this sort of work. I never thought I would I be; I mean, I can’t really stand violence. I have all of his logins and access to all of his accounts. He wanted me as a tactician at one point; I can just take over all of his profiles. No one would know. Like he said, he was planning on becoming a toon hybrid like me, except I’ll just take the jobs that take out bad people. I can turn the tables on them.”
Kyle rested his head in his hands. “I don’t know if I can live with that.”
I nodded. “I understand if you want to—”
He shook his head. “I said I was with you to the end and, like you said, these are bad people. This isn’t something the police can be involved in, especially if it involves what happened to you.”
“You realize I’m going to become a contract killer.”
He nodded. “You said you have access to his accounts. How much are we talking?”
I loaded up one of his bank statements and Kyle whistled. Neither of us had seen that many zeros on an account…well, not with a number in front, at least.
“Okay, not to sound like a complete sellout and an inhuman bastard, but that is a lot of money.”
I looked at Kyle. “No jobs that hurt innocent people. I’ll take out drug lords, sex traffickers, abusers, that sort of thing; people whose victims have fallen through the cracks.”
Scratch hung a few feet back, not sure how to handle the situation. I faced him.
“This also means that when I’m doing this sort of work, you don’t get to interfere with it. If I’m having a pie and you want to slam it in my face, that’s one thing, but—”
He waved a hand. “I get it. I gotta get used to a few things about this whole situation, too.”
“Like what?”
“Like the fact that you weren’t lying. I’m really only about a month or two old; my entire memory of us working together is all fake. All the different versions of us that have existed over the years of us being partners never happened. Fairfax, you’re my best friend, my only friend. I don’t like the idea that I was created to hurt people, but I was born out of your abuse. I tried to turn that on you, and I don’t know how I could ever apologize.”