by RyFT Brand
fight, not on her best day and me on my worst. She was vying for time. Probably hoping uncle would come into the garage and talk some sense into me. But I was in a particularly unreasonable mood and giving DJ’s ego a good pounding would be just the thing to push her away for good. I narrowed my eyes, balled up both my fists, and straightened myself up.
DJ squared off her shoulders and sunk back into a fighting stance.
This was truly going to hurt me more than her, but I had no other choice and I was done with all the listening.
That’s when I heard the approach of distant sirens—a lot of sirens.
The man door on the front of Uncle’s garage slammed open. “Jazz!” Inspector Samuels shouted as he ran through the bays and nearly straight past us. “Jazz!”
“Here,” I said then vaulted over the council and landed beside DJ. I gave her shoulder a friendly, but solid punch, just to remind her of the pecking order.
“Ouch,” she said and rubbed her arm, obviously exaggerating so I would get that she got my point.
Samuels altered his trajectory so abruptly he nearly sent himself head over heels. A bit clumsily he got his feet back under control and shot over to us. Now the good inspector made full use of all the benefits of a magically powered world, including the use of devices that kept him in tip top condition without the bother of diet and exercise. So the fact that he was panting and nearly out of breath meant that he’d been running for some time, which meant that he hadn’t taken his patrol flycraft which meant he was here in an unofficial capacity. And the sirens were growing closer and in greater number.
“Cole,” he said panting hard. “They’re coming,” he paused to gasp in a couple of breaths. “Nothing—” Pant again. “Nothing I could do, sorry.”
The inspector had his scarf balled up in his hand. His hat and glasses were gone completely, leaving his brain tissue and the throbbing veins attached to it, clearly exposed. He was like a living version of the visible man model from my biology class.
“Not your fault,” I said. “Thanks for all you’ve done.”
Uncle ran into the garage. “Sounds like trouble. How long until—good gods!” he shouted catching sight of Samuels.
Samuels scratched at the top of his head and it gave the illusion that he was scratching his brain. “Yeah, look, forget about me, you’ve got five minutes, maybe six.”
“That’s fine,” I said, leaned against Ship’s side rail, crossed my arms and searched for tooth debris with my tongue.
DJ’s head shook; her eyes were moist. “Jazz, don’t do this, please.”
“What…what are you doing?” the enforcer corp officer asked.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I’ve decided. The rest of you get below, you’ll be safe there until they leave.”
Samuel’s creepy eyes turned between DJ and me as his surrounding eye mussels flexed and relaxed. He seemed torn, like he didn’t know which way to turn, then he centered himself, reached inside his jacket, took out his enforcer corps credential and dropped it on the floor. Then he walked up beside DJ and set his hands on hips.
“Oh no,” I said uncrossing my arms.
“Oh yes,” DJ said crossing hers. Samuels pointed at DJ in case I’d missed her defiant expression.
Parry looked confused, or maybe worried, or scared. Hell, he was probably all three and then some.
DJ, arms still crossed, tried, and failed, to subtlety wave Parry over. Parry looked plainly confused and DJ waved harder as she glared at me and said, “If you’re turning yourself in, then we’re turning ourselves in too.”
Parry, who was coming over at last, stopped in his tracks and his expression went terrified. He gulped then asked, stammering, “W-w-we are?”
Moxie, glowing brightly in the dim light, flew out of Parry’s shirt pocket, took him by his earlobe and, with wings beating furiously, dragged him up to DJ’s side.
“Oww, oww, oww,” Parry said and swatted at his ear. “I’m going, stop it.”
Moxie flew right up to my face, crossed her arms then gave me a, “Humph,” and turned her head disapprovingly. But my little flower ward couldn’t stay mad at me for even a second. She caved in, flew up to me and applied intense, magic sparked kisses to my face.
“Alright, alright,” I said and caught Moxie by her semi-transparent wings. “You can stay, but only if you can sit quietly.”
Moxie beamed a smile; the golden light she produced brightened by several degrees and she clapped her pudgy little hands together in glee. I set her on my shoulder then said, “As for the rest of you—hey!” I shouted as a little magically charged kiss landed on my neck. “You have to sit still,” I said glancing at the little flower ward perched on my shoulder.
She nodded, setting her blond curls bouncing, and crossed her heart over her unclothed breasts; Moxie was unabashed to say the least. The flower wards were, by magical standards, a very primitive species, motivated by love of their charge, in this case me, and unencumbered by ego. Lucky little speck.
I started again, “As for the rest of you—”
“As for the rest of us,” DJ said and began dumping her many and varied weapons on the floor, “We can turn ourselves in if we want to.”
Samuels dropped his stun-pole on the floor. “And we want to.”
“We do?” Parry asked and DJ jabbed him with her elbow. “Yes, I want to too…I suppose.” He had no weapons to relinquish.
A siren drew very near, it’s volume rolled down and I heard a flycraft’s landing thrusters ignite. More sirens were approaching. I looked back at my overly and undeservedly faithful companions, then over at Uncle leaning against a support pole polishing a wrench with his filthy rag. He met my eyes and shrugged.
“Gods damn it!” I shouted and wrung my fists in a sudden burst of rage. I looked over at Ship, now nothing more than an inert flycraft; inert but heavily armed and armored and unexpectedly maneuverable. Me and that little dock switcher had been in many a battle together before I’d attached a demon’s soul to it, and I’d survived them all.
Outside I head several more flycraft landing.
I looked back at my defiant friends and was struck by the determination in their eyes, even Samuels’s as gross as they were. My friends meant well and I didn’t deserve them, but they were probably going to get us all killed. What choice did I have? How could I return their loyalty and courage with cowardice, and yes, DJ was right, turning myself in was a cowardly move, and I’d have been lying to myself to think otherwise. I hopped off Ship’s bumper and walked up to them. “If I fight, win or lose, will you promise to stay hidden, to stay alive and to carry on this fight, regardless?”
DJ grimaced as she met Samuels’s gaze, but I saw a silent vow pass between them. “Agreeded,” DJ said.
“Oh thank god,” Parry said, panting hard. Apparently he’d been holding his breath the entire time.
I pulled on my flight gloves and ran to Ship’s cockpit. I pulled on my leather flightcap, buckled the ear flaps beneath my chin and hopped into the seat. Outside raised voices were excitedly exchanging orders, and then someone banged hard against the door. “Open up by order of the Enforcer Corps warrants and free searches code or be invaded.”
I jammed my boots into Ship’s pedal straps and flipped several toggles, beginning the primary starting sequence. Then I looked at the little line of faces staring at me, DJ was smiling victoriously. “Don’t just stand there staring like idiots, run!”
Parry ran off, tripped once, and then scurried through the office door. In a scramble DJ and Samuels gathered their weapons. DJ gave me an encouraging nod before running, Samuels close behind her. I spotted the detective’s credentials still sitting on the floor, but before I could call to him the big roll up door behind me exploded into the shop, banging hard against the back of Ship and shoving us…me, several meters forward and slamming me back into the seat. Luckily I’d just gotten my five point harness buckled. I heard a dozen heavy, booted feet storming in. I hit the ignition
for the twin Avistar thrusters, flipped the lever to lower Ship’s canopy, pulled the lift thrusters throttle back and pulled the pedal up. I lifted off and began a slow turn as about a zillion mallow bolts rained against Ship’s thick hide. I was surrounded by a dozen armed officers. Outside at least five armed flycraft were parked waiting for me. It had been a while since I’d fought the enforcer corps. If I don’t die, this will be fun.
..to be continued.
-Next Time-
It’s the beginning of the end.
Jazz, Monster Collector: Episode 18, Battered
Watch for it Jazz-Fan
I hope you’ve enjoyed this Jazz adventure.
If you’d like to learn more about the monster collector, or me and my other works, please visit:
www.RyFTBrand.com
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