by C. W. Ashley
“YARRRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!”
Even through a busted face, Jack still managed to give an audible scream during his 14-story freefall before splattering across the main parking lot. Grady rested his large sledgehammer across his shoulder before peeking out of the window.
“Eviction notices never work anyway,” Grady commented flatly. “Thought these windows were stronger though,”
Clarissa wiped the blood off her pistol with a kitchen rag before holstering it inside her jacket, “I was going to get them replaced anyway.”
She began to look around warily. The stench of blood made her dizzy, causing her to lose a little balance. Her mutant ally ran to her side to catch her, with a very serious look of concern on his face. His voice matched his expression.
“Landlady, there is too much blood here; you’re breathing this shit in.”
Clarissa looked at Grady with her sole eye dizzy and unfocused. Her mouth opened, bearing a very large set of sharp canines that she ran her tongue over several times before stabilizing herself and responding.
“Yeh...yes, the blood-stink…” She slurred as she found her feet underneath her. “But Jack said our boys were dealing them hot doses, which means Cook’s dealers…what the hell are they up to?”
Grady threw the Landlady’s arm over his shoulder and led her out of the apartment swiftly, crushing broken glass and slow bugs under his boot on the way. “L, as long as you owe them money, they are gonna do what they want in your towers. It’s how it’s always been.”
Clarissa’s strong face dropped into something more vulnerable and sullen before nodding softly. She allowed her full weight to lean on Grady in a way that only a true recipient of trust would. She perked up a little once they were away from the stink of the apartment. “Grady, Cook’s people have been doing weird shit all month, I think it’s finally time we do something about it.” Clarissa declared firmly before cracking her knuckles.
Chapter 9: Tee Total
Iggy had decided to refrain from drinking anymore Root-water. It wasn’t his favorite beverage, but he realized that his tolerance probably wasn’t as high as he thought it was on a mostly empty stomach. So, he focused on the Hare-Jerky which was satisfying enough to sate his current appetite.
The group’s conversation had now drifted to more general small talk, and they found themselves talking about how bored they were of hunting Plentipedes and how they needed to upgrade their weapons. Malkin told Iggy that he drove a Class B vehicle called the Dresden Dune. It was a reconstructed 4×4 jeep that he wanted to equip with a gas-powered harpoon launcher once he could afford it. He spoke about how that investment would make hunting mutated animals almost too easy. Iggy wanted to listen to the wide-eyed car talk all night but his fatigue was catching up with him.
Better get some sleep, I’ll catch up with these guys tomorrow, they seem cool.
“Okay Jake, I need to hit the mattress, it’s been a long day. You got any rooms left?”
Iggy yawned as he spoke.
“Sorry kid, got some Mercs staying here tonight, they bought up all the rooms maybe you can try th-”
The sound of smashing glass pierced through the bar and Jake’s sentence with deafening effect. Iggy and the group could only turn their heads fast enough to see a bald bloodied man land painfully on the floor around a mess of shattered window glass. A good half of the bar turned to observe while the rest just carried on drinking. Penoli took a long drag of her 2nd cigar and shook her head slowly with mild annoyance.
Iggy’s shocked face slowly turned to the saloon-style entrance which got his attention with their signature creak and gulped as he saw an extremely burly mutant enter the bar with another figure behind him he couldn’t quite see but heard clearly speak.
“I ain’t seen one standard of profit, Rafka! How long were you running that shit in the towers!?” The figure with the powerful female voice stepped out into plain view, hooded violet jacket, corset top, black jeans and metal-capped boots along with an eye patch across her face. Clarissa the Landlady and her enforcer Grady had entered the Iron Knuckle.
The burly Grady didn’t have his sledgehammer with him, but he was not much less intimidating without it. With a huge grin on his fish-face, he walked closer to the downed bald man who was writhing in pain before turning to Clarissa.
“You really like using windows to make a point, L. Hope Jake has insurance?”
Jake held up his hand before giving a loose shrug. “Forget it, Grady...I was meaning to get that one replaced anyway!”
Grady, Jake, Malkin, and Clarissa all erupted in laughter at the comment along with a good third of the bar, while Nails and Penoli scoffed leaving Iggy silent in confusion.
Is this shit normal at the Iron Knuckle? The man called Rafka on the floor was writhing in the shattered glass, further injuring himself and whining fairly loudly in pain. Clarissa stepped over and gave him a quick kick to the midsection, which made his cries go silent as the air was knocked out of him.
“Landlady…I didn’t know it was against the rules…ugh...just needed some extra cash…” Grady grabbed the man and lifted him effortlessly off the floor with one hand.
“Yeah okay Rafka, I think she gets the point. You can show your apology by paying her 4000 standards by the weekend or I’ll squash your smooth head without using the hammer, alright?”
With that demand, Grady flung the man back through the broken open window like an empty soda can for him to be the problem of the street outside. He dusted off his hands and gave the entire bar a thumbs up, which they returned with a happy drunk cheer before quickly getting back to their business.
“Jake, me and L will have a double Backstab on the rocks, no spice,” Grady said with a friendly tone.
Jake smiled at Grady and up-nodded to Clarissa; who was a little ways behind him. The Landlady kicked shards of glass out of the entrance space while shaking hands and waving to some of the patrons. He reached behind the bar to grab the necessary mixers and placed them on the bar.
“I take it you’ve had one hell of a night, you usually order soft-neck drinks, Grady.”
Malkin turned toward the two huge mutants and gulped his root-water curiously.
“You know Jake, I don’t get why you call us soft-necks. Like aren’t we basically soft all over compared to guys like you and Grady?” Malkin queried.
Nails folded his arms and made a ‘tsk’ sound before interrupting.
“Not all Mutants are big fuckas, Malk. Don’t be generalizin’.”
I’ve never seen a Male Mutant below 6’5, but then I guess size must be relative.
Malkin shrugged to him before silently watching the Landlady approach the bar next to Grady. She leaned against the counter before taking a scanning everyone around the space, her single eye lingering on Iggy a second longer than the others. Iggy’s chest went hot picking up on it, right before she spoke.
“Before anyone stockpiled weapons out in the Big Waste after the skirmishes, Blights would fight anyone and anything hand-to-hand. Wandering humans were their main targets; they would just snap their necks and rob their corpses. Because it was so easy, they were referred to as ‘soft-necks’ right at the bottom of the food chain.”
There was a considered silence after the explanation. Iggy decided to break it by addressing her, “Uh, I take it you don’t find that term offensive then, miss?”
“Miss?” Clarissa asked in mild surprise. “I’m the Landlady, and why would I take offense? I ain't human.”
Grady began to chuckle slowly followed by the rest of the group as if they were waiting for permission to find amusement. Clarissa flashed a grin at Iggy revealing her extra-long, sharp canines.
They look like Sil’s! But they are longer. And she doesn’t look like a mutant at all. So, what kind of non-human is she?
Grady eyed Iggy for a couple of moments before scratching his chin. Finally, he turned back to Jake grabbing both the drinks he ordered and handed one to Clarissa.
�
�Um Jake, why’s your friend got a Citadel accent?” Grady asked bluntly while pointing at Iggy.
“Cause he’s a Citadel driver, Ignition from the Derby League, he’s in the top #15”
I must have dropped in rank after leaving Athens and missing the seasonal. I worked hard for #4.
“That so? I don’t have much interest in cars, rather watch Orc fights in the Cit-Pits, I have a short attention span you see.”
Grady chuckled before taking a swig and Iggy nodded at him before yawning loudly. Clarissa’s ears pricked up and she moved closer to Iggy, her eye narrowing as she looked him over carefully. Iggy was taken aback by her burning stare. With her wild pink hair and seemly infamous reputation, he couldn’t help but feel that familiar mix of excitement and fear.
“You’re a driver? I don’t watch derbies either but…” The Landlady looked Iggy up and down like a snack before licking her fangs “I’m guessing top #15 means you’re pretty hot shit, right?” She asked in a curious tone.
Iggy was stunned by a combination of exhaustion and fascination. Jake piped up and spoke for Iggy, which he appreciated in his state. “He actually just got here today Landlady. Blanch has his vehicle and he’s gonna go on some bug-hunts tomorrow with these lads.”
Clarissa chuckled mockingly, with her eye fixed on his face. “Fuck bug-hunts, I got a real job for you, Crasher. Plus, I’ll pay you more than you’ll earn squashing Plentipedes in a week, you down?”
Iggy’s face went hot as she made her fairly enthusiastic request. But he had to rub his eyes as tears began to gather from holding them open for too long. He wiped the excess away and responded as respectfully as he could.
“It sounds interesting, but I’m gonna need a few more details...plus I’ve been up a while and still haven’t found a roo-”
Clarissa cut him off sharply. “It's sorted, you’ll stay in my tower, I got rooms available. We can talk details on the way there. Sleep on it and then make a decision.”
Grady rubbed the back of his head with uncertainty and piped up. “Uhh, L do you really think he should be staying in that room after Jack and the peeler…. you know?”
Clarissa shook her head and ran a hand through her floppy mohawk. “Not that room Grady, he can stay near my quarters on the top floor. Can’t be certain some ganger won’t snatch him from one of the lower floors and use him as a powder bag.” She turned back to Iggy quickly. “So, are you in? Room is free of charge for the night but I’ll want a decision before sunrise.”
Iggy’s mind drifted back to when Sil made him take her along; a comforting but bitter memory. But at that moment, he couldn’t take his eyes off this ‘Landlady’. She was clearly older than him, but she had a laid-back easiness to her which contrasted with her striking appearance. Once again, he let his desires lead his decision.
“Okay, I won’t sleep too long; I take it the morning sun is a pain for you as well then?” Iggy said, trying to be relatable.
Grady, Jake, and Malkin all chuckled while Nails and Penoli did their signature head shake. Clarissa smiled, baring her canines slowly.“Yeah, the morning sun is a pain...I am a vampire after all.”
What.
The.
Fuck?
The trip back to the towers seemed longer than it was. Mainly due to Iggy's mind running a mile a minute, trying to evaluate the risks of not only his future but his present situation. He was in a van, picked up from a bar by a strange pair, for a job he knew nothing about. He also wasn't completely sober.
Grady drove while Clarissa was in the passenger, puffing on a large cigar similar to the one Penoli had back at the bar. She was humming under her breath as she filled the vehicle 2nd hand smoke, which caused Iggy a few chest coughs. They were five minutes into the journey but Iggy hadn't said a word. He had questions but they were so numerous it was if they were log-jammed in the front part of his head and none could make it to his mouth. Luckily, Clarissa broke the tension when she decided to speak, though it was to Grady.
“Do you think that bald idiot you threw is going to survive the night?”
Grady scoffed as he responded. “I’m pretty sure you threw him first, L.”
“He was still conscious then. He wasn’t moving when we left,” Clarissa said.
“I think he's gonna get robbed, and then miss a very important payment to whoever is supplying him,” Grady said.
“Yeah well, it'll be a reminder to the other dumbfuck powder pushers who knew him.” Clarissa snarled before a long cigar drag. “They are getting ballsy to move like that.”
“That can be solved, balls can be removed,” Grady said dryly.
“Maim-Creek is pretty far though…hey Crasher,”
Iggy lifted his head to the name she decided to call him despite being told his preferred title by Jake.
“What’s up?” Iggy asked, trying to sound like he wasn’t somewhat disturbed by their violent conversation.
“You drive a Class A, right? What's her top speed?”
The info shot to Iggy's tongue instantly, he could recite the specs in his sleep. “On dry flat land the Blockgain can hit 210 mph without boosting, but I usually boost if I can.”
Iggy spoke through a smile, briefly thinking about that hot wind on his face that a top speed drive gives him. Grady slowed the van to a halt as they approached the parking lot of the Towers. The two dizzyingly high apartment blocks flashed with hues of pink and purple in an off-beat rhythm as the neon signs at the top flickered back and forth. The left building’s sign said ‘Shock’ and the right building was ‘Vertigo’. Iggy couldn’t figure out if they were pre-skirmish or post, but stopped wondering once they all got out of the van and Clarissa and Grady moved closer to him.
“We are here, tell me more about your car when we get inside,” Clarissa said firmly, keeping her voice as neutral as possible.
She turned to Grady and nodded, pulling her pistol free of its holster without pointing it in any direction. “No guns on the top floor, Crasher, ‘cept mine of course.” Grady took one step closer to Iggy, his pitch-black eyes almost looking through Iggy for the truth.
No point in lying.
“I’ve got an Elephant Revolver, it’s empty though,” Iggy said while slowly lifting his shirt and turning around.
He wanted to be as co-operative as possible at this point. He knew they had no reason to kill him and he wanted to keep that way, at least until he knew what they really wanted. Grady snickered with a gentle hand wave of flippancy.
“Fuck you got an unloaded shooter for? Good fortune?” Grady sneered as he nodded towards the revolvers handle. waving the Landlady over to remove it.
Clarissa came up behind Iggy placing her hand softly on his waist before taking his gun and stowing it in an unknown part of her coat. She leaned in close to his ear, her breath was scalding hot. The similarity to Sil’s made his neck tingle with that same fear and excitement that he hadn’t quite gotten used to yet. She spoke under her breath with a whisper to him.
“I’m not going to find anything else under there am I?” Her hand moved down from his waist and towards his rear, giving it a tiny pinch. Despite the teasing Iggy’s mind was fixated on the reveal of her large fangs and self-description.
Is she really a…?
“Don’t worry crasher, I don’t drink,” she whispered menacingly, her hot breath leaving a sweet tingle on his neck.
Clarissa and Grady laughed at the young driver’s stunned expression before escorting him into the left tower, whistling a haunting tune under the mixed light of the moon and neon.
Chapter 10: Risk Factors
Grady and Clarissa parted ways in the lobby. The statuesque vampire left for the surveillance room while the burly Grady took Iggy with him in the elevator. The poorly built lift climbed the many stories of the tower while stuttering on its ascent.
Grady took the time to ask more about Iggy’s experiences in the derbies, mainly interested in which gang members he had competed against. Iggy tried to lay out his achi
evements with as little ego as possible, despite having an impeccable record on the circuit and totalling many top drivers with ease.
Iggy became more aware of his Citadel accent with every sentence he spoke, feeling like he stood out more in the gritty Shell. Grady’s tone was consistent, aloof and snarky. Iggy started to wonder if this large henchman took anything seriously and was curious about his relationship with Clarissa. He paused his answers to risk asking.
“So, you been working for...or working with the Landlady a long time?”
Grady’s voice was unchanged but his face dropped a little as if he was caught in a brief state of reminiscence. Because he had no pupils Iggy couldn’t tell where he was looking exactly, but he felt like his black eyes were fixed on him.
“Well, I suppose it’d be 40 years now, so pretty long for a soft-neck...no offense.”
Iggy waved his hand to show none was taken, he was getting used to it now.
“Hang on, 40 years? You two grew up together?” Iggy said as he attempted the math in his head quickly.
“No. I was a kid when she found me dumpster-diving in a scrapyard. I have no idea how old she was at the time, but in 40 years she doesn’t look a whole lot different.”
“Is that because she’s a-”
Grady narrowed his pitch-black eyes.
“Vampire, yeah. She’s old enough to know a shit load about the skirmishes that even the grandappys around here don’t. She doesn’t go out in the sun and I’ve never seen her have garlic bread with her Plenti-pizza.”
Grady couldn’t help but chuckle at his own words. Iggy fought to hold back a smile but failed. “I’m only going on what I know from pre-skirmish fairy-tales, but Vampires drink blood right?” Iggy questioned curiously.
Grady’s neutral expression finally changed, his black eyes widened and his leathery red skin began to droop around his cheeks as his thick-lipped mouth became a fairly apparent frown. Iggy’s heart once again skipped a beat at the sudden face change.
Grady’s voice dropped an octave that more closely matched his hefty build. “She told you she doesn’t drink, it’s a choice she made.” He declared firmly “I’ve not seen her take a drop of it in all the years I’ve known her, and she’s had plenty opportunities with all the people she…we’ve killed. But she abstains, and that’s that.”