The Way of Death

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The Way of Death Page 2

by James Von Ohlen


  With his path free, Reiji could see Meyer turn into an alley ahead and disappear from view, prompting Reiji to break into a sprint to close the distance.

  “Get the rest of the boys.” Someone said behind him as ran. Or at least the mangled slang equivalent.

  Trash clung to him as he ran and more of it crinkled beneath his feet. It stung his nose with every breath. At least the shit-hole he lived in had working trash disposal. Or maybe he just had a better quality of neighbors. People who didn’t want to live in their own shit, so they didn’t just throw it everywhere. He’d heard it called something along the lines of ‘future time orientation’.

  Bullshit, he thought. His neighbors were just as much assholes as anyone on this block. There’d even been a few like the big-mouthed kid fading away behind him as he ran. After he’d cut down the first half dozen or so, very publicly, they’d learned to keep their fucking mouths shut and stay the fuck out of his way. People started to leave him alone in his neighborhood. Maybe it was time he expanded his circle of influence.

  Reiji turned into the narrow alley that Meyer had run into, having just enough time to see the crude sword swinging towards his chest. He managed to get his own weapon up just in time to partially block it, but took a solid blow to the ribs. Despite attempting to roll with the shock, it still hit him hard. The concealed vest he wore beneath his shirt hardened under the impact and absorbed some of the blow, but did not stop it altogether. The wind flew from his lungs and he felt ribs crack and break beneath the attack. Getting that fixed would put a sizable dent in his plans for the bounty to be collected.

  Of all the shit-head things he could have done, getting angry at some shit-head kid and letting his thoughts wander when he should have been paying attention to his target was the biggest. Running directly into an ambush that should have been seen coming a mile away, like some fucking amateur. He found himself laying on the ground, face up and seeing through stars just in time to avoid a coup de grace to the head with the clubsword Meyer was wielding.

  His own weapon was nowhere to be found, having fallen from his grasp as he was sent to the ground. Sometimes, shit happened. And Reiji was almost always prepared for it when it came around. He rolled to one side to avoid the blow, tying up Meyer’s arms and with his own sweeping the other man from his feet with a powerful double-footed kick to the hips.

  The two grappled in the filth of the alley for a moment, the taste and smell of piss overpowering everything else in Reiji’s mind. He reached for a knife in his belt, grabbing it and stabbing at empty air as Meyer broke the grapple and rolled away at the last possible second. In the blink of an eye both men were back on their feet, Meyer still holding his sword and swinging it wildly.

  Reiji side stepped the attacks and landed a series of punches to Meyer’s jaw that sent him back against the wall of the alley with his knees buckling. Reiji followed with a powerful stomp to Meyer’s chest, sending the man he sought to collect crashing backwards through the brick wall, to the surprise of both.

  Meyer disappeared into the opening, hidden by a cloud of choking dust and the sounds of angry men and women from the other side. An annoying buzz of static-laced music came from the other side as well as loud footsteps. Several people showed, running towards the hole and the man who’d just crashed through their wall. Heavy by the sound of them.

  Reiji looked around the alley, seeing Kai laying amidst the garbage deposited there like sedimentary layers. That was no place, even temporarily for such a weapon. He picked the blade up and wiped it clean on his pants before turning back to his prey.

  Dim lights showed weakly through the settling dust and haze where Meyer had fallen. Reiji stepped through the hole and down a meter or so into a crowded room. Faintly lit and filled with obnoxious music. The kind he couldn’t believe anyone could actually listen to and enjoy. Like someone taking a piss in your ear. Heavy bass buzzed throughout his body, causing bits and pieces of his clothing to vibrate.

  Most of the people in the large room were seated at makeshift tables, playing cards and rolling dice. A gambling hall then, he thought. Another good way to make money, if you happened to own the place. Also a good way to get yourself killed if you slipped up for just a second or hired the wrong thug to work security.

  And speaking of security, he noted, here they come.

  Three men, angry and chemically enhanced by the looks of them. The drugs that spurred muscles into unnatural growth always changed the facial structure of the men and women who used them. Hollow cheeks and large jaw muscles below a perpetual angry scowl, like superheroes drawn by children. A dead giveaway every time.

  They drew blades as they came. Much higher quality than what Meyer still grasped as he struggled to push himself to his feet. Sturdy, sharp, and polished. To put on a show for their guests. Ground mortar fell away from Meyer in a curtain of dust as he worked towards his feet and he looked up at the three approaching men and then back at Reiji. Uncertain which way to go. They weren’t his friends, then.

  “What in all fucks do you two shitbags think you’re doing?” The man in the lead spoke. Tall, wide, and scarred. He’d been in more than a few fights in his day, and probably won a good deal of them. The two with him moved to his flanks, slowly moving forwards.

  Meyer made it to his feet and leaned on his weapon like a cane. One of the lead thug’s wingmen stepped towards him, lowering his weapon as well. A mistake, Reiji observed.

  “You got it all wrong, boys. I’m not with this asshole. In fact I’ve never seen him before.” As he finished the last word, Meyer struck with a speed that Reiji didn’t think the man had possessed. His weapon smashed into the security guard’s knee and he shoved him over backwards before running directly into the crowd of onlookers, screaming for passage as he did so.

  The thug went down with a scream, dropping his blade and clutching at what was very likely a thoroughly crushed and shattered kneecap. The other two paused for a second before deciding to come after Reiji. Their turn for a mistake, then.

  Reiji slashed a fake attack at the first man, causing him to stop and lean back before changing the direction of his sword and gutting the second man with the same motion. The second man dropped silently to his knees staring down at his viscera pouring from his abdomen for several seconds before he began to scream.

  Like a signal to everyone else in the crowded gambling hall. The gathered crowd, previously still and quiet, suddenly erupted into motion with screams of terror and anger mixed into a cacophony of panic. Reiji looked to the remaining two security thugs.

  It was highly unlikely that they were part-owners of the operation. Just some dickheads pulled off the street to keep the drunks in line and deal with customers who realized too late that they were getting ripped off. There was no way they were getting paid well enough to potentially get themselves killed by trying to fight him.

  “I suggest you get the fuck out of my way.” Reiji spoke. His voice was no louder than casual conversation, but carried the heavy weight of words thick with violence. The man remaining on his feet turned and ran while the man with the broken leg, writhing on the ground, began pushing himself back, holding up one hand in a show of submission.

  Reiji moved past the two men on the ground. The gutted man had finally realized his situation and had the good sense to pass out. He would be dead in a minute or so if not sooner. The other would walk with a limp for the rest of his life. Unless he suddenly got rich and could afford some serious regen treatments. Maybe next time he won’t let his guard down, Reiji thought.

  He scanned the dim room stretching out before him and saw Meyer, still limping, turn into a hallway. This time, Reiji looked for the ambush as he followed and found no one lying in wait for him. Just a door a dozen paces down the hallway swinging shut.

  As he approached he saw the sign above the door. A women’s restroom. The air near the door was thick with the smell of narcotic smoke. A place like this would likely sell any of a dozen cheap drugs that produced a
short but intense high, and the kind of people who would hang out here would likely be more than happy to use them.

  But even among junkies in an illegal gambling hall, there was still something resembling etiquette. If you wanted to light up, you went to the restroom to do it. The smell washed over him as Reiji entered the room.

  Every bit as repulsive as the shit-stained streets outside. It made him want to vomit, while simultaneously making his head buzz. The smoke was so thick in here that he might well get a second-hand high. Shit, he thought, I might even pass out from whatever this smoke is.

  Ahead of him, two women lay sprawled on the ground, holding onto each other like lovers and shivering. Not Meyer’s work. Likely the pair who had smoked enough to fog the entire bathroom. Sores showed on one woman’s face from behind a matted curtain of filthy hair in desperate need of washing and brushing. Side effects to be expected from a life spent passed out on the floor of a gambling hall bathroom. It’s her life, Reiji thought, let her piss it away.

  Beyond them, Meyer growled in frustration as he tried to open a window set high in the wall.

  “Open, you fuck!” He roared, his voice filling the room with its desperation as he swung his weapon into the window and shattered it. No matter though. It was far too small for the man to fit through. And unless he had a beam teleporter aimed at him from somewhere far above, he wasn’t going anywhere. And that was about as likely as the gambling hall they were in being legally licensed by Central Command.

  “No sense in trying to run anymore, Meyer.” Reiji spoke as he took a fighting stance and gripped Kai’s handle with both hands.

  “But I didn’t do it. You have to believe me.” Meyer’s voice cracked as though he might weep and his eyes grew wide. “You have to!” He yelled the last sentence while slamming his weapon into the wall. It smashed through the dingy tile veneer and opened a small space covered with grimy, green mildew.

  “I didn’t kill no Cent-Sec cunt. Why would I do something stupid like that?” Tears began to well in his eyes. “You don’t kill one of them and just walk away. They always get you man. They always get you!” Meyer screamed again and hit the floor next to him with his weapon, smashing more tiles and causing one of the two passed out women to stir.

  No threat there, Reiji considered. Unless she’s got a decent firearm. Then in that case, we’re all dead. Overlord did not fuck around when it came to firearms. He dismissed the thought. It was as unlikely as a rainbow colored unicorn flying through the wall and shitting enough gold to end world poverty. At least temporarily.

  In his experience poor people were poor not because there was no money, but because they were terrible with it. He turned his attention back to Meyer who appeared to be coming rapidly unhinged. The prospect of imminent death can do that to a man. And desperate men did desperate things. Like trying to fight Reiji.

  “I didn’t fucking do anything!” He protested loudly before falling quiet and fixing Reiji with his stare as he raised his weapon in front of him.

  “Relax, Meyer. I know you didn’t do anything.”

  “Yeah? And how do you know that?” He asked, suspicion spreading across his face.

  “Because I’m the one who killed that Cent-Sec cunt.” The absolute truth of the matter. And not the first time Reiji had done such a thing. Offing rival hunters or just government officials that had ripped him off or pissed him off on the wrong day. He’d bide his time, and gut them. Always careful to either leave no evidence that he’d done it himself, or to leave just enough to implicate someone else.

  There were rarely thorough investigations and trial by jury was a thing of the long distant past. As long as someone died for committing the crime, it was considered solved. A good racket that paid well, if one had the nerve for it. And Reiji definitely did.

  The majority of the bounties he collected were legitimate, but his own engineered bounties found their way into his working life regularly enough. Reiji smiled as he thought about it.

  Suspicion was replaced with confusion on Meyer’s face. It went slack for a second before his eyebrows pressed together above his nose and one side of his lip curled up.

  “The fuck, man? Then why are you here?”

  “I’m here,” Reiji began as he stepped closer and shifted the height of his sword, lining it up for a lunging stab. “Because you’re the one with the bounty on your fucking head.”

  Meyer’s face grew pale and he looked sick for a moment, as Reiji continued to slowly creep towards him.

  “No, man. No. Shit no. You can’t do this.” He held up one hand, palm towards Reiji as he spoke, as if asking for a timeout. But there was none to be granted.

  Reiji surged forward, taking off Meyer’s extended hand between the wrist and elbow, slapping away his clumsy counter-attack, and taking his head from his shoulders. A series of short, clean movements that an observer would have missed were they to blink at the wrong time.

  Blood sprayed into the air as Meyer’s head rolled off and his body collapsed backwards, hitting the wall and then folding in on itself and finally coming to rest in an awkward sitting position. The woman who had stirred from her narcotic slumber screamed weakly and then began crawling towards the door, struggling mightily with each placement of her hands and knees. Like her hands and feet each weighed a ton.

  Reiji watched her progress until she collapsed again after a few seconds. He appreciated the view of her ass for a moment, the bottom edge peeking out from beneath a pair of short shorts. The spot where it met her hamstrings drew his attention. She was in pretty good shape for a junky passed out in a bathroom in the afternoon on a weekday, he noted. With a laugh he turned back to Meyer’s body. The head had rolled into one of the stalls and was covered in filth that wouldn’t be out of place on the streets above.

  He grabbed it by the hair and lifted it, inspecting it for a moment as if to make sure it was the right one before setting it on the lone remaining sink. There was a now seemingly permanent look of surprise on Meyer’s face.

  Perhaps the revelation that he was about to die by Reiji’s hand for a crime that Reiji himself had committed was so shocking that the knowledge would haunt Meyer, even in death.

  Reiji had spoken the truth to the dead man. He wasn’t above lying though. Far from it. But there had been no point in lying to him. His time had come and he would be unable to repeat what he knew to anyone.

  The dead Cent-Sec man had deserved what he had gotten. He was one of the crew that had last robbed Reiji when he was returning to collect a bounty. Reiji rubbed at a scar on his jawline that had been a gift from the group’s ringmaster. His stupid fucking name, Rob Grundle, had made him easy to find. He hadn’t even bothered to take off his badge with his name on it before leading his boys in their theft.

  A name like that could be nailed down to a neighborhood and a residence in short order with a few credits put into the right accounts. It had been easy enough to find him and his home. And after a day or so of watching, Reiji knew enough about the man to act.

  The whole incident had been over in a scant few seconds. It would have been far more pleasing to peel back the fucker’s nails and write stories in his flesh with Kai’s point, but time had been of the essence. In and out of the dead man’s place in a matter of seconds, and there was one less person out there who thought they could rob Reiji and get away with it.

  He had been extra careful to leave no evidence of his presence behind. He’d even waited a few months after the robbery to take his revenge. There was strange tech at play sometimes when it came to Cent-Sec. Some of the shit they could do seemed near miraculous. Men who were surely a split second away from death’s door, were up and about in no time. Missing limbs grown back, and not in the sense of prosthetics or bionics. Real flesh and blood. Other neat tricks, like the way the air moved giving them clues as to how something had happened.

  And their Overlord system. That was the stuff of myth and legend. Reiji would remember the single time he had seen it active in his
entire life, until the day he died. The reason he held a sword in his hands now and not a homemade slug-thrower. Only a man with a death wish would try something like that now. Then again, if the people of Lexington had anything more significant than a knife to defend themselves with, people like him might be totally unnecessary.

  But even with all of that crazy tech at their fingertips, not only had they not been able to identify Reiji as the culprit, but they had identified a man who had absolutely nothing to do with it named as the perpetrator. Like in all things that dealt with Cent-Sec, his trial was carried out quickly in absentia and he was sentenced to death. A reward was offered to any man who could bring in his head. A large reward.

  And now there he stood, Reiji looking down into the still twitching eyes of Meyer Eben.

  Reiji wiped the blood from his katana on Meyer’s clothes and placed it back in its sheath. Not performing the chiburi bothered him, but there just wasn’t enough room. Behind him, the door to the bathroom creaked open and a single footstep sounded. Either another woman or someone very light on their toes.

  “Occupied.” He spoke with a snarl as he looked back over his shoulder.

  “I see that.” Came a muffled response as Reiji saw who had just entered. The man wearing the dust-mask and extra-large jacket that had been seated across the street from Meyer’s apartment. He stared intently at Reiji as he reached up and removed the mask.

  “Allow me to introduce myself to you, Reiji.” He spoke as he pulled the mask away. The face was unfamiliar to Reiji, but the man seemed to know who he was. Then again a great deal of people seemed to know who he was. The huge half-breed with the nanoforged sword that collected heads for Cent-Sec. Such a thing wasn’t as common on Lexington as one might think, and his reputation tended to precede him.

  “I am Zirsens.”

  Reiji recognized the name. Another reputation that went before the man. Another bounty hunter known for being the kind of man who got the job done.

 

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