Chapter 4
1677 Words
2: Keelin
Keelin
Keelin shuffled in the shadows of the alley, tried to make herself as small as possible. Which was ridiculous. Even if she hunched over, she was still too large. And if anyone got close enough to see under her large hood, they’d be suspicious of the full face-mask.
But the alternatives weren’t much better—stay a prisoner in the crappy rooms they’d rented, or show herself for the monster she was.
She watched the entrance to Donte’s—and something about that name bugged her, like whoever came up with it didn’t quite get a reference or something, like it was supposed to be meaningful but the owner wasn’t smart enough.
It was quiet, just a few people trying to get in. The bouncers—large, muscles, disdainful expressions—turned most away.
They only let Ryann in because she paid them, and acted nice. Didn’t get uptight when they leaned in and started checking for weapons. That’s the excuse they gave, anyway—Keelin’s NeoGen hearing picked up their voices, and their comments once Ryann had passed through the door.
They’d seen Keelin, of course. They looked over every so often, checking her out. They sneered, leaned in to whisper to each other—which meant they were easily distracted. Worth knowing, if things turned bad.
Keelin stretched to full height, almost laughed when one of the bouncers stared.
There was a back entrance, down a side-street, but that would take time. There would be corridors, storage, offices, stuff like that. Faster to go in through the front.
The bouncers stepped to block the entrance, arms folded, a wall of muscle.
“You got an ident?”
“I need to help a friend out,” Keelin said.
“Ident. Or credit.” The i***t smiled, a couple of teeth missing.
He wore an old Preben on his hip, a sheathed knife on the other side. Same as his colleague. They both watched Keelin.
Ryann sussed.
“You going to let me in,” Keelin asked the bouncer, “or do I go through you?”
The meat-head laughed. “Like to see you try, freak.”
She slammed a fist into his stomach, sent him flying back to the wall. She kicked, caught the other bouncer on the side of the knee. As he fell she grabbed and pulled, tossed him into the street. Then she pushed through the double doors.
Thump of music. Smoke in the air. Smells of sweat and perfume.
Three more bouncers. One had a finger to his ear, talked into a wire-mic. The other two held weapons—a Preben and a Tychon.
Keelin didn’t hesitate. The one with the Preben cried out when she snapped his forearm. She grabbed the Preben, spun, fired. The Tychon flew away, the bouncer grabbing his mangled hand. She jumped, slammed a boot into his face. Bone cracked. Landed next to the snitch, slammed the Preben on his head, knocked him cold.
Walked through into the heart of the club.
It took Keelin a second to assess. Too many shadows, too many people with violence in their bearings. Sounds—music, voices, glasses. Scents assaulted her. And traces knotted together.
She latched onto Ryann’s, strode through the crowds. Those who didn’t get out of her way she pushed past. Ignored their comments.
Ryann, surrounded by a crowd eager for blood, a few weapons already drawn. A large man seated at a table in front of her, flanked by four others, all standing. Ryann held her hands before her, palms out. Trying to talk her way out of the situation. Trying to be nice, when all these idiots wanted was blood.
So why not give them some?
Keelin ran. She slammed through the onlookers, drew up beside Ryann. Read the traces in the room, constantly rearranging her internal map.
Ryann breathed a sigh of relief. she sussed. Keeping her eyes on the large man, she said, “I should be going.”
The one she called The Bear tilted his head. “You think you can simply walk away?”
Keelin stepped forward. “She said she’s finished.”
The Bear’s unruly beard rustled as he smiled. “Oh, she’s finished all right. You too.”
Ryann stiffened. Keelin placed a hand on her back.
The onlookers shuffled. Some climbed on tables. The kids behind the bar hit a button, dropped a clear barrier between them and the rest of the room. Bouncers watched from a distance.
Keelin pressed with her hand, turning Ryann until they had their backs to The Bear. Ryann trembled. Keelin pushed her forward. They took a step.
A couple of the onlookers’ eyes glazed, then they nodded at The Bear. They lifted their weapons.
Keelin said.
They wanted a show? She’d give them a show!
As she took another step, she planned. Before her foot had come down, she lifted her hand from Ryann’s back.
And acted.
The closest onlooker lunged, swinging a curved knife. Keelin dropped, kicked, heard bone snap. A woman aimed a Preben at Ryann. Keelin grabbed her wrist, broke it, let the g*n drop. Another man, lattice-lock on his weapon—punch to the side of the head, yank the g*n from his grip. Turn, fire at a man with a lash, send the weapon spinning from his hand.
Violence bred violence. Skirmishes amongst the crowd turned to fights. Where the fights came close, Keelin dodged, did what she had to. Protected Ryann.
And noticed how The Bear hadn’t moved, how his bodyguards hadn’t used their weapons.
Gunfire sounded, cracks at odds with the beat of the music. Screams rose. People ran.
A man lunged at Ryann, waving two knives. She ducked under a table and kicked out. He yelled, swung one arm back, ready to throw the blade.
Keelin swiped. Only realised her talons were out when he screamed, when three red slashes tore across his shirt, across his back. He spun to face her, and Keelin kicked him in the stomach, sent him away.
Ryann, still under the table. Direct line of sight to The Bear and his companions. The woman to his right raised her g*n, lattice-locked.
Keelin didn’t think. She lunged. Snatched the Preben, grabbed the woman’s head. Saw the shock on her face.
Saw The Bear watching, amused. Knew things wouldn’t settle until the man realised the seriousness of the situation.
Keelin twisted her hands, snapped the woman’s neck. She lifted the dead body, slammed it down on the table, sent drinks flying. The Bear rose. Keelin leapt over the table. Grabbed his belt, ripped it free, threw his weapons away. Forced him back, one arm across his chest. Pushed her talons against his gut.
She leaned in close, his hair brushing her face-mask. “You want more people to die?”
His mouth twisted into a sneer, but it trembled, and he looked down, eyes widening. Keelin pushed with her talons, enough to break skin. The big bad bear winced.
Fighting close-by fell away as heads turned to watch. The Bear’s three remaining colleagues trained their weapons on Keelin. One of them, the man with jet black hair, tightened his finger on the trigger.
Without taking her eyes from The Bear, Keelin withdrew her talons from his stomach, reached for the dead woman, grabbed the second Preben from her belt. Lifted it, fired.
The man’s Preben exploded. He dropped it, clasping his hand.
Keelin placed the Preben on the woman’s body and stretched out her talons, pressed them into The Bear’s gut again. “Next i***t tries to hurt me or my friend, I won’t hold back,” she said.
His throat bobbed. He nodded.
“What do you want?” His voice was calm, but quiet.
“My friend came in here for information. She get any?”
“I don’t deal with the company.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Ryann shuffled closer. she sussed.
Keelin nodded. “We get what we want, we’ll be out of your way,” she told The Bear.
He took another couple of deep breaths, then he looked past Ryann, to the shadows of the room. He raised a hand and his eyes glazed as he sussed.
“You come here again,” he said, “I’ll have you shot in the street.”
“Doubt it. Won’t need to come back if you give my friend what she asked for, will we?”
His mouth twitched. “You have a contact?”
“I’m sure you can find us. You know what she wants?”
The Bear nodded. “Doubt it’ll help her much. Or you. Company property, both of you. They’ll get you eventually.”
“Can’t blame us for trying.”
“Suppose not.”
Keelin lifted the arm from across The Bear’s shoulders, stepped back, then removed her talons.
The three remaining colleagues stepped aside, letting Keelin pass. With Ryann next to her, she walked through the now-unlocked front door, out onto the street.
Everybody watched them, but nobody tried to stop them.
- Writer
