by Tyler Vance
“If you think that I’m turning my back to look for…” Sheikoh began furiously, but Indigo took a long step forward, and Sheikoh’s objection died, mid-speech. Where Indigo stood, Sheikoh could easily search the square without losing sight of the ganglord.
Sheikoh scanned the crowds and quickly spotted the odd group out. There were four of them. They were dressed in tight suits, overcoat and everything, standing around stiffly. They were pretty far away, but Sheikoh could tell that their faces were hard and set. Dangerous faces. And from the awkward way they moved, Sheikoh was certain that there were weapons shoved in their tight belts. He could almost feel them pressed into his own gut.
After a moment, one of them, a blonde-haired man, shot a quick glance his way, and then immediately averted his eyes. It looked like Indigo was being for real.
What..?
Maybe…
Could these men possibly be Sheikoh's contacts? They were undoubtedly East Side. Like Dekla. Maybe Indigo was lying, but the paper had said contact. As in one. Singular.
Like Indigo.
Sheikoh shot a glance at the ganglord. He was still rummaging through his baggy pockets the back ones now. Sheikoh shook his head, and glanced back at the men. It didn’t matter how this looked. These were probably Indigo’s guys too. It would be beyond stupid to trust Indigo. Suicidal. There was no way siding with a ganglord was anywhere near Sheikoh’s best interests.
“Hah!” Indigo exclaimed, startling Sheikoh. "Found it!"
Heart racing, Sheikoh swung around. Indigo was holding something in his oversized hand. A business-card-sized piece paper, blank white. Indigo proffered it to him, and Sheikoh suddenly realized that it wasn’t blank at all; its center was emblazoned with a fingerprint-sized circle. Sheikoh leaned over and eyed it. It seemed made up of painstakingly detailed, minute runes. They looked like the letters of some kind of alien alphabet. It sat there, silent and ominous.
Sheikoh knew exactly what it was supposed to be; a pentacle, the work of a Celestial. Presumably Indigo’s. People said that the Celestial’s magic powered TVs, phones, computer, that the magnificently robed upper class of the upper class sold their souls in exchange for infinite possibility. But Indigo’s claim was impossible. There was no way-
“Touch the circle,” Indigo told him simply. “And you’ll understand.”
Sheikoh warily glanced at the ganglord, making no move to touch the card. Indigo rolled his eyes and pressed a dark index fingers onto the still-darker circle. For a second, Indigo’s eyes drifted out of focus and his features slackened. Nothing else. Sheikoh didn’t see any signs of magic.
He watched for a second, wary and almost jumped when Indigo’s face twitched back into expression. The ganglord shook himself quickly and then leveled a challenging glare at Sheikoh.
“Now you,” Indigo ordered with a feral spark in his eyes.
“It’s cool, you go again,” Sheikoh responded, flashing an uneasy smile.
“It’s okay if you’re scared,” Indigo shot back. “I wasn’t, but that’s just me.”
Indigo flicked the crumpled rectangle of paper out at Sheikoh. Sheikoh stared at the black pentacle in its center for a second. It looked like a mocking eye, staring him down. He tentatively reached out and touched the circle of runes.
Indigo, the warrior statue, the shifty-eyed group of four, the East Siders riding their Swifthooves, everything around him drained away to an empty, black nothingness. The ground fell from beneath his feet, but he didn’t fall with it. He just floated there in the dark.
A booming, double-timbre voice rippled through his thoughts. Sheikoh couldn't be sure whether it was a man's or a woman's. It almost seemed to be both at the same time.
“Silence, this is your newest employer. Follow Indigo; he knows better than to touch you. Tomorrow we will meet. Face to face.”
Then it was over, just like that. Sheikoh, bemused, was left staring at Indigo surrounded by Myzeik Square ordinary bustle. Like nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened here. Indigo chortled at his overwhelmed expression.
"So you're saying that you're really working for a Celestial..?" Sheikoh murmured, half to himself. “Guess I’m going to get used to this.”
“Naw. The Celestial just did that for me. I told him you wouldn’t believe me,” Indigo responded, grinning sadistically. “Your fault for not taking me at my word.”
“I’ll come meet your Celestial, but first thing’s first, huh?” Sheikoh asked the bigger man. Then he stepped towards the labyrinth that followed a vine-drenched, brick walkway. Indigo bared his teeth and nodded in understanding. They disappeared into the east side streets.
Behind them, the men followed.
Chapter 4
Ambushing the Ambush
He and Indigo walked purposefully between buildings of Coral Grey. Sheikoh who was slightly ahead, made sure to keep the ganglord firmly in his peripheral vision. Even if Indigo was probably telling most of the truth… hopefully, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try a cheap shot for old times’ sake. Sheikoh’d busted Indigo up all those years ago. Sheikoh couldn’t help but smile. He lowered his face, but Indigo still picked up on it.
“Wanna take our friends back to that factory? It’s obviously lucky place for ya, Silence,” Indigo whispered out of the corner of his mouth, eyes dancing with danger and excitement. “It’s not too far.”
Sheikoh couldn’t help but like Indigo a little bit more for bringing that back up. There didn't seem to be any trace of rancor in the ganglord's tone. Despite that, he knew better than to trust Indigo. He wasn’t going to let the ganglord choose their ambush spots anytime soon.
“I’d rather not cross the gate. Too much could go wrong on the way. I was thinking just bringing them down to that construction sight. It’s only about two blocks down from here. Just duck and roll off,” Sheikoh explained tersely.
Indigo nodded his assent. The ganglord’s face was sharp and drawn. It was the expression of a man readying himself to kill. And as much as it freaked him out, Sheikoh was right there with him.
Sheikoh shivered. He was treading the secrets and implications well enough, but he was moving blind and desperate for some truth. He wanted to get the fight over with already and figure who exactly was playing him like a puppet. He needed to be in control. Sheikoh sighed. Just ride things out until they started to make sense again, looked like that was the game plan. As always.
But before he went off to risk his life, he had to make sure that Dorothi would be okay. Life was getting real complicated real fast, and he had to take care of things before they spiraled out of his grip. Sheikoh slid a hand into his pocket and pressed a button on his Trinity XI. He whispered a silent prayer. He hoped that Dorothi would be okay, that she would stay in their safehouse. He had enough to deal with without her getting taken hostage or whatever.
They stepped onto the rough dirt of the construction site.
“Now,” Indigo whispered sharply, used to being in the lead.
They ducked below the yellow tape surrounding the area and melted into the crevices outlining the dusty street. The ground was plaited, half-dried concrete. Rebar poked out, twisting outwards like grasping tentacles. The air hung still and heavy with the scent of dried sweat.
Sheikoh crouched in the shadows of late afternoon, his hand on the comforting handles of his pistol and electroblade, the latter humming softly. He was in his element, invisible in the dark and he knew it. He gripped the hilt of his pistol a little bit tighter and silently waited for the men to appear in his line of sight.
His eyes were locked on the path the men would have to walk to follow them. There was a flicker, and a clank, barely perceptible in the shadows of the tall buildings. It looked like the suits had thrown something down the alley. It looked like a little, thumb-sized toy, rolling across the concrete with sharp, metallic clinks.
Sheikoh instinctively made to dart behind the iron carapace of a nearby cart, but his attention was stolen for half a second. His
face twitched towards Indigo, who was shouting something like;
“FLASH GRENADE!”
A thoughtless second later, Sheikoh’s vision exploded into a sheet of blinding white light.
Indigo ripped his thick arm from over his eyes, glanced at Silence. Then cursed vehemently. He could see that the kid had his weapons drawn, but from the dazed look on Silence’s face, he knew that the thief was out of it for at least a couple of minutes. It was looking to be a firefight and now Silence was little more than deadweight. Indigo watched the kid stumble towards the wall.
Briefly he considered settling his score with Silence, Interim’s greatest criminal, the heartless kid that’d stabbed Colli in the throat. Silence was all but useless now, blinded. He cursed again. He knew that firing on Silence would give away his position. Besides, he needed the kid alive. Damn flash grenade, he thought savagely. And damn that kid. Most useless criminal prodigy I’ve ever met. Indigo ducked into cover.
Silence was going to have to look after himself.
The foreboding hiss of plasmafire echoed, and Indigo’s face hardened with focus. The four guns streamed down the street, firing their weapons with astonishing accuracy.
A jet of blazing light hit the wall inches from Indigo’s cheek and exploded in shower of sharp dust that bit into his skin. He flinched to the side, his head half exposed and then threw himself back behind cover. Silver-green whirls of plasmatic energy sizzled through the space he’d just been a second before.
Plasmafire battered his wall like raindrops. Those spiraling bolts of green destruction ripped the alleyway apart. Indigo had never seen anything like it. He whipped out his assault rifle and ducked out of cover, blasting one of the men in the face. Then he threw himself back behind the wall. Just in time to see two green streaks tear furrows where he'd just been.
His mouth curved into a feral grin. One down, three to go.
It didn’t seem to have helped him in the slightest though. If anything the relentless suppressive fire increased. Molten concrete bulged outwards like it was trying to punch him. He watched his cover shudder under every blast. Cold sweat ran down the back of his shirt. They hadn’t seen Silence, either that or they didn’t consider the kid a threat. All of their plasmafire now pummeled the rapidly dissolving section of wall shielding Indigo. The scorching concrete wasn’t going to hold for very long. If something didn’t change fast, he was a dead man. Each of his breaths suddenly felt precious and fleeting.
Guess this is it, Indigo realized. His chest leapt with chemicals and electricity. He knew that he’d never been the kind to go down hiding. He just didn’t think he’d die so soon. He took a deep breath to steel himself. Then he jumped into the center of the street firing wildly screaming insults at the top of his lungs.
A gut-ripping explosion of crimson light rendered his words unintelligible. It shined brighter than a million suns. Howling wind clutched and pulled at Indigo’s loose fitting clothing. A second later, the massive rush of energy disappeared like it had never been.
Indigo’s assault rifle stuttered three more bursts of energy and then came stopped. He took in the impossible scene in front of him, cradling his weapon in the crook of a muscular arm. His eyes glanced left then right, looking around as he tried to find bearings. The street… this was impossible.
Indigo began laughing to himself. The sound was shot with half-repressed hysteria. Indigo didn’t know what had gone down, or what’d happened, but it didn’t matter in the slightest.
Somehow, he’d survived.
Chapter 4
Ambushing the Ambush (Part II: Sheikoh)
Sheikoh staggered forward, trying to think things through. Though blinded, his memory led him to cover. The twisted metal carapace of a carriage or some kind of similar machine. His foot caught on a piece of rubble, and he stumbled. Blind luck saved his face; his hand caught a rough piece the metal frame he’d been making for.
Sheikoh swung his body behind it, trying to ignore the pain from the hand that’d saved him. He squinted into the square. His right eye was already able to take in the blurry outlines of the four men’s green plasmafire pelting a concrete wall. His left eye was all but blind, but not his right. When Emili had saved him back so long ago she had given Sheikoh so much more than what he’d had before.
He glanced down at his right hand, the one holding his humming electroblade. He smiled. His right eye had adapted to the point where he could make out the details of the circuitry winding across the face of the elegantly sculpted weapon, its blurry wires arranged in pursuit of lethal efficiency.
“Thank you, Emili,” Sheikoh whispered fervently.
He turned his attention to the hazy battlefield. Green-rimmed plasmafire battered a building’s stone wall. Presumably where Indigo’d taken cover. Sheikoh could only make out three of the assailants firing, but he remembered that four of them had followed him and Indigo here. He searched around, expecting the fourth to be sneaking towards him or Indigo, but no, there was his body lying on the dirt.
Unfortunately, it seemed like the remaining three were more than enough to take care of the ganglord. Their barrage of destructive, green-rimmed plasmafire was slowly eating through the wall that the ganglord hid behind. Even half-blind, Sheikoh could see Indigo didn’t have the breathing room he needed for retaliation. However, for whatever reason, Sheikoh did.
Sheikoh knew that he’d severely underestimated these guys, but luckily it seemed that they were responding in kind. They must think that the ganglord was the only threat, that the flash grenade would keep Sheikoh blind and helpless for as long as they needed. So Sheikoh had one shot.
He held up his pistol, intending on snapping a blast at the closest one, but his finger hesitated on the trigger. Sure, taking one of them out would mean that there were only two left. He could divide the heat between himself and Indigo. Each of them would only have one to take out.
But these guys were definitely better than Sheikoh’d thought. He didn’t want to trust his life to this blacksteel mixer he was hiding behind, and he certainly didn’t want to underestimate these guys again. If the one he shot at was wearing a field, he would’ve just wasted his shot and pulled them onto himself.
Sheikoh sheathed his electroblade in his boot in a quicksilver motion, and then grasped his pistol firmly with both hands. His thumb flipped a switch on his pistol’s chamber. Straightening his arms, Sheikoh pointed the barrel in the vague direction of the shooters. He smiled, a little sadly. Emili had been the one to show him how to rewire a weapon for this trick. So many years ago.
He could see that the piece of wall hiding Indigo shudder under each jet of green plasma. It was at the very precipice of collapse.
‘You can do this Mr. Wall,’ Sheikoh encouraged. ‘I believe in you!’
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and loosened the muscles in his anxious arms. A phrase glanced through Sheikoh’s thoughts. You’ll always be my hero. He wasn't totally sure who it was referring to.
The concrete wall?
Or Emili?
For a second could almost see her.
Sheikoh stood there, for a moment procrastinating; this was going to hurt. Then burned, heat-shattered stones began to trickle down the side of Indigo’s cover. It was now or never. Sheikoh squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.
Arms jerked skywards, Sheikoh was blasted back, as the backlash of force blew the chamber of his pistol into bits. Hurtling through the air, he felt his gun wrenched free from its trigger-guard. If it hadn’t been detachable, his right index finger would have been torn off his hand. As it was, he’d almost-certainly broken it. Sheikoh slammed onto his back. His breath gasped out and his eyes popping open.
His fuzzy sight stuttered at the edges of focus as he lay there. He objectively noticed that Indigo had burst out of his hiding spot, screaming and firing his assault rifle wildly. Then the ganglord stopped and looked around, at a loss. Sheikoh wheezed a giggled. And then Indigo was laughing with
him. It was like they’d just realized they were still alive.
Their harsh, crazy-sounding laughter burned bright with chaos and energy. The harsh sound echoed hollowly around them discordantly, out of place among the death. A trickle of wind gusted, twisting a small cloud of ash from the remains of the dead men.
Sheikoh lay on the ground stuttering out gasps of manic laughter, surveying the devastated, charred- black alley through both eyes now; his left eye was finally able to see blurred shapes through the formless, rainbow shock of the flash grenade.
Some criminal mastermind you are, Sheikoh silently berated himself. You let your guard down. If it hadn’t been for his former enemy he’d be one of those blackened bodies lying in the rubble.
Indigo’s hysteria had subsided to a gasping chortle. He stood ten feet away panting, hands leaning on his knees. Sheikoh was unable to quell a grudging camaraderie for the ganglord. When Sheikoh’d been blind and helpless Indigo had been the only thing between him and death. He still wasn’t sure he trusted Indigo, but if it hadn’t been for him, those gunslingers would have picked Sheikoh off without a second thought. He shivered. His mind’s eye dredged up the hours of target practice that he’d spent shattering glass bottles. He could almost feel the plasmafire burning lethal holes in his body…
Sheikoh shook his head, they’d survived. He had no reason to worry about an imaginary death. Indigo came over and helped him up. He met Sheikoh’s eyes, flashing a white, appreciative smile. Sheikoh noticed that the ganglord was still breathing heavy.
“Worka’ beauty, kid! I thought that flash had knocked you outta action! What did you do to ‘em all?” Indigo asked with wonder through a raw voice.
“Overloaded my guns core,” Sheikoh dead-panned. In his peripheral vision, he saw the ganglord’s expression flicker with comprehension.
“So you don’t have a gun now?” asked Indigo in a strange, smiling voice.