෴Raz෴

෴෴෴෴෴෴

In the Wind

෴෴෴෴෴෴

The air had the wet look and smell of recent summer rain. Patches of oil and water on the uneven broken pavement made brilliant gasoline rainbows against the diffused light of the city skyline. The treacherous surface would have been dangerous to run on if not for the HUD highlighting the slippery spots and an optimal path down the alley. Raz glanced back in time to see one pursuer slip and fall. He didn't wait to see if they got back up. A few seconds later a bright flash showed the shadow of the other one still running, showing him how close behind she was. Raz crouched down in the shadows of a dumpster and waited for her to turn the corner.

The woman in an armored mask with the white hexagon turned the corner. At this range, he could see the smaller symbol was just the number 1. She was wearing mostly black tactical gear with a rifle cradled in both hands. Several points on her body lit up. She stopped and looked like she might be saying something. She repeated the motion. This time he could almost hear whatever it was she called out over the loud ringing in his ears.

Probably requesting backup. Gotta deal with this and get out of the area.

Her rifle was still pointing at the ground. He spotted her sidearm in its holster and reached for the pistol tucked at his back. The tactical body armor she was wearing changed his plan.

Of course, they’d rather recapture me. But that might change if I start shooting. Not going back in there. Let’s see if we can do this quietly. Designate them as opponents if you haven’t yet. Bee, have we got any instantly lethal options?

[The opponent’s weapon and armor make a single lethal strike that precludes return fire unlikely. The lower faceplate and armored jacket will prevent a solid throat strike. No other targets will present a reliable and fast enough kill to prevent the risk of being shot.]

What about a nonlethal but disabling hit? Have we got any options there?

[This spot, the flexible armor below the hard trauma plate is the best option available. A full power strike will be required.]

Gotta watch that rifle, need a distraction.

A spot on the center of her torso flashed. It was just below a stiff square spot in the vest covering her upper chest. He silently slid his hand along the pavement until he found a loose speck of rock. He picked up what felt like a tiny chip of broken concrete. Raz targeted the critical spot on her midsection and prepared to attack. She took a step closer to his hiding place. Without moving anything but his fingers he flicked the concrete chip over to the side. When it struck the ground her head turned toward the sound and he attacked. He used the same motor chain for jumping across the cell and leaped out of the shadows with a strike. His left hand pushed the rifle barrel away from him while he struck hard with his right. The punch landed perfectly. The woman went down with a grunting wheeze.

[Damage 7 (2) 60% calculated maximum striking power.]

[Target stunned: Duration: short]

Raz stood over her, waiting to see what she would do. She lay there gasping for air. She reached her empty hand up to him.

He reached out and took her hand. She gently squeezed his hand. With her weapon hand in his, he looked more carefully at the uniform and mask.

Damn, she has a nice body. Wonder what she looks like under the mask?

[This inquiry does not seem productive at this time.]

Yeah, Sia probably wouldn't appreciate that line of thought anyway.

The thought of Sia snapped him out of his reverie. The woman kept rhythmically squeezing his hand. “You’re going to be ok. I just can't have you following me. I won't go back. Nothing personal, but I can’t let you take me.”

She didn't reply, just kept gasping for air and squeezing his hand.

“I’m really sorry about this. It might be unpleasant.”

He pulled her sleeve down to expose some of her forearm and laid his forearm against hers.

[Alternative Upgrade Datastream detected, analyze? y/n.]

Yes.

Her gasping for breath turned into a choking sort of sob. He couldn't hear it, but the thrashing and spastic motion of her diaphragm made it clear she was in distress. Seeing her pained thrashing bothered Raz deeply.

I’m not going to be like Braithwaite just because I can be.

Raz pulled his arm away from hers.

Being deaf sucks. Still on borrowed time. Got to move.

“Sorry about that. I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t shoot me.”

He pulled her pistol from the holster and tossed it to the side. The rifle he unclipped from her sling. He looked around and finally settled on tossing it in a nearby dumpster. She wasn’t trying to get up, let alone bring her weapons to bear so he took the chance and ran, feeling as though the next thing he might feel could be a bullet through the back. No gunfire followed.

When he couldn’t run any further, he started walking in what he thought was a northern direction. A few minutes later he heard an impossibly loud inhuman scream from back where he’d come from. Even so far away, the sound sent chills down his back and made him glad to be far away from whatever was making it. He started walking faster. The faint sounds of gunfire reached him, and the scream repeated. The sound seemed to touch on some primal fear. He could easily imagine some enormous monster hunting him, following his scent. Raz shuddered and started to jog.

An hour later he’d long since run out of energy to jog or even walk fast. He thought he’d covered around ten miles before finding a landmark he recognized.

Well shit, it's still a very long walk home and I don’t even have bus fare for MARTA.

By the time the moon rose he was exhausted, and desperately trying to think of who he could trust, and who could help.

I wonder why it’s so light out tonight?

[It is not lighter than usual, you now require less light to see by.]

Oh, yeah I guess that would make sense. But for now, what do I know about this area? I don’t even know anyone that lives in this area.

[Melissa lived less than a mile west from here.]

“That close? Well, it wasn’t too bad of a split, I don’t even recall why we broke up, but there has to be a better option than an ex.”

[Your workplace is approximately nine miles to the east, and has 24-hour security staffing.]

“Yeah, but as far as they know I’ve been fired for blowing them off for the better part of a week now. Either way, I look like I need rehab, not a ride home, not a good look to show up at work with. I don’t know if going back to my life is going to be possible, but showing up dressed in mismatched pieces of uniform outfits with no ID in the middle of the night probably isn’t how to make sure I have a chance at the job. Besides, by now fucking Walker probably has the director job all sewn up and I’m probably fired.”

Somehow that thought didn’t bother him nearly as much as he expected it to. His job felt like something his old self did.

Now to figure out what this new me does.

He left the main road and started walking west. “I guess on the upside, I did get an ability. Just not the one Clive was suggesting.”

[Cal and Sawyer live 11 miles to the south.]

“They’re both good guys. I know they’d help. But walking through the Southside into Hapetown at night? Hell no.”

[Sia lives approximately 18 miles north of here.]

“If I could call her, that’d be great. I’m sure she’d come get me. Still too damn far to walk right now.”

[Benjamin from your old gaming group lives approximately 22 miles to the northwest.]

“That isn't even helping anymore. If 18 is too far for someone that I know will take me in, I sure as hell haven’t got 22 miles in me for a maybe. I’m dead on my feet.” Raz mumbled.

[Host stamina reaching critical levels. We need to rest very soon.]

No shit. I guess let's go see how happy Melissa is to see me. For now, gotta keep moving. This isn’t a great area to look weak this late at night.

Shortly less than a mile later he spotted the apartment complex. The familiar gated entry to where Melissa lived had never looked so appealing.

He buzzed her apartment. An unfamiliar male voice came over the intercom. “Hello?”

“Hey, can I talk to Melissa?”

"Who is this?"

"This is Raz, I just need to talk to Mel for a minute."

“She’s busy. Come back when it's not the middle of the goddamn night. Some of us have jobs.”

Raz looked directly into the camera and hit the button again. “Hey, I know she’s home, and we both know Mel is never even in bed before midnight. Can you just put her on? I’ll be quick and get out of your hair.”

There was no reply. Raz waited as long as he was able, and reached out to hit the button again. Before he pressed the button the intercom came on.

“What the fuck are you doing here in the middle of the night?” Melissa asked in her ‘I’m pissed off’ voice.

Raz froze and wracked his brain for an answer she’d accept. Well shit, what do I tell her?

“You have to let up the button and press it again, dumbass.”

Oh yes, this was a great idea.

He pressed the button. “Mel, I could really use a little-”

“Fuck you, you don’t get to call me Mel. I haven’t seen you for a year. If you were going to pull this shit, you’re supposed to drunk dial me after a month, not wait a year and show up at my place.”

Oh right. The breakup reasons are coming back to me now.

He pressed the button. “Melissa, I need some help. My car was stolen, and I’m stuck downtown without my wallet, phone, or anything. Can you help me get home?”

“Are you on drugs?”

“What?! No! I’m not on drugs, I just need help to get home.”

The male voice came back on the intercom. “Dude, cops came around asking questions about your torched car last week. Whatever shit you’re mixed up in, get some help. Get clean. Mel doesn't need to be involved.”

Why do they think I’m on drugs?

He pressed the button again. “Can you at least just call me a ride?”

“I’m muting the intercom. If you’re still there when I look again I’m calling the cops,” the man said.

That went well. New plan. Get somewhere that's open, and call someone.

He started walking back the way he’d come toward the main road.

“Oh shit, without my phone I don’t even know anyone’s phone number except Mom’s landline, and I only know hers because it’s the same one I grew up with.”

[Incorrect. Your memory contains thousands of phone numbers.]

[Many of them have been marked as unimportant or obsolete, but the vast majority are available for retrieval.]

“You know, Bee, I’m not saying it was worth it or that I’d do it again, or anything crazy like that. But you’re pretty handy, and I’m glad to have you around.”

[Thank you, however, right now you need to direct your attention to the footsteps behind you.]

Raz picked up his pace, resisting the urge to look back. The two sets of footsteps behind him sped up to match his pace and started to gain on him.

He stopped and spun around. The two unfamiliar men coming up behind him stopped at his unexpected change of direction.

One of them was his height, the other slightly shorter. They were both dressed in jeans but there the similarity ended. The taller one was shirtless, with short hair and a single earring. The shorter one had a goatee and wore an oddly chunky mesh jacket Raz recognized as a summer weight motorcycle armor jacket.

“Who you talking to freak?” The shorter one called out. Raz mentally dubbed him Goatee.

Raz shrugged. He glanced around at the dark buildings around them. Well, I know where this is going.

“Hey burnout, my man here asked you a question.” the taller one called out. Raz decided he’d be Earring.

The two men seemed emboldened by his silence and took a few steps forward.

Raz tried to defuse the situation. He opened his hands in an expansive gesture. “Does it really matter who I’m talking to? I’m just walking and talking here.”

Earring whispered to Goatee, “No earpiece, dude's just crazy.” Raz could clearly hear the whisper and Goatees whispered agreement.

Goatee pointed at Raz. “Nice gloves dude. They look like they’d be badass with my jacket here. Where can I get some like those?”

“No idea, I got ‘em as a parting gift.”

Earring smirked, “Well what about that pair then? Can my buddy here try em on?”

“Yeah man, can I have those gloves?” Goatee chimed in.

Raz sighed. Yeah, that's what I thought. Designate both as opponents. Non-lethal if possible.

He turned around and started walking away.

“Hey! We didn't say you can leave!” Goatee shouted.

Raz shrugged, making the motion big enough they couldn’t miss it.

He heard them both break into a run. The sound of their approaching footsteps marking them on his mental map as clearly as if he’d been watching them close in.

3, 2, 1

Raz spun to the side away from the building and avoided the tackle coming from Earring.

The taller man stumbled to the ground when he missed his tackle. Goatee stopped short, surprised by the sudden motion. Raz spotted the glow indicating an opening and took it.

[Damage 7 (1) 60% calculated maximum striking power.]

[Target armor encountered.]

Goatee staggered back, gasping but not out of the fight.

Earring was getting to his feet. A spot on his lower back lit up and Raz leaped at him.

[Damage 5 (5) 50% calculated maximum striking power.]

The elbow to his back drove the bigger man back to the ground. Raz stepped back and narrowly avoided Earring’s swiping grab at his foot. Motion at the corner of his eye. Goatee snapped open a baton.

Well shit, ok Bee, no rules now.

Many new targets lit up across his opponents. Goatee advanced with the baton held close and tight to his body.

Raz leaped in to disarm Goatee but fell far short. I am way too tired for this.

Goatee saw his chance and advanced. He raised the baton and brought it down. Raz parried the blow with the back of his left gauntlet and drove his armored fist into the target zone of Goatee’s goatee as hard as he could. He felt something crunch and give under his fist.

[Damage 5 (7) 50% calculated maximum striking power.]

[Target downed: unknown duration.]

Goatee’s eyes rolled back as he grunted and sagged to the ground.

A sense of danger caused Raz to twist and move to the side.

Earring’s lunging stab brushed by his abdomen so close he could feel the air move. Something briefly tugged at his shirt.

Raz danced a few steps back, panting.

Earring recovered from his lunge and turned toward Raz. He glanced down at Goatee. “You broke Ethan’s jaw. He pointed at Goatee with the knife. Gonna cut you extra for that.”

Raz wearily brought his fists up into a guard position and waited.

Cut me extra? Who even talks like—

Earring lunged at him. The motion started fast and slowed down until it looked unnaturally slow.

Raz instantly knew he could easily dodge this lunge, but that he wasn’t fast or fresh enough to keep dodging for much longer.

He reached out at the slow-moving knife and grabbed the blade with his left hand.

In that oddly prolonged moment, he chose his target and threw his entire body into a single punch at the man’s throat.

[Damage 4 (7) 30% calculated maximum striking power.]

Time resumed its flow for Raz. Earring crumpled to the ground, releasing his hold on the knife and gasping.

Raz went over to Goatee/Ethan and put his forearm against the man’s forehead.

“Why no analyze prompt?”

[No upgrade datastream detected.]

[Combat data is compiling now]

Raz suddenly felt a small rush flow through him.

Raz stepped back and looked at his downed opponents. He glanced at the knife, and then folded it up and clipped it into his pocket. “Thanks for the knife.”

He turned to go, and then stopped. “Oh hey, those are nice wallets you have. Where can I get one? You guys mind if I try `em on? Turnabout is fair play right?”

He bent over to retrieve the baton and wallets. As he bent over he felt the tightness at his waistband and was reminded of the gun he’d tucked into his waistband.

Damnit, I had a gun this whole time and I’m punching these assholes?! How did I forget that?

He stepped back and looked them over. “On the other hand, who knows what kind of attention gunshots would bring. Realistically I should be looking to get rid of this thing.”

[Your mental acuity is suffering from stress and exhaustion.]

[This decreases your executive function and decision-making abilities.]

[Your firearm carry habits revolve around the use of a holster.]

[You should also decide whether you’re going to talk to me or think to me.]

[Going back and forth is how they nearly surprised you in the first place.]

You have a point. I need to get out of the habit of verbalizing to you.

He emptied the wallets of cash and made a point to look at the names on both IDs before tossing the wallets into a dumpster. He stepped into the shadows next to the dumpster and pulled out the pistol. He held it and weighed the pros and cons of keeping it.

On one hand, if anyone from that lab finds me I’ll be glad to have it. On the other hand, I don't know if it's reported stolen, or has a dozen murders attached to it or anything about it. I’m dressed kinda funny in this uniform thrift store getup. If cops find me, I don’t have my permit with me, and they’ll probably be a lot less helpful if I’ve got a gun tucked in my pants.

He gripped it tightly and wondered if it would have even been enough to stop any of the people with abilities that had held him prisoner.

Maybe that jerk Rich. He didn’t seem that tough, just strong.

[Opponent designate ‘Rich’ possessed an initial unlock for a specific durability]

What does that even mean?

[The additional analysis performed shows that this specific durability is one that affects the body's overall resistance to cutting and penetrative wounds.]

[A pistol caliber would be far less effective against someone with this enhancement than a normal person.]

So he was knife and bulletproof? I guess that's not such a bad thing, but why would someone want that when the general durability is against almost everything?

[Records imply that specific durabilities stack with general durability.]

[The data is incomplete, but there is enough to...]

Raz waited, the phantom buzzing in the back of his head growing to nearly an uncomfortable level.

What the hell man? You trying to let the magic smoke out of my brain? Are we having an abstraction and synthesis moment?

After what felt like a long time, the buzzing receded.

[With reasonable confidence, the following is true.]

[Specific durabilities stack with general durability. Specific durabilities provide significantly greater resistance and durability against the forces in question than the same rank of general durability.]

So if you want to be the toughest possible, getting specific durabilities sounds like a must.

[Given what is known about the escalating cost in material and capacity, this seems more practical as well.]

Why is this so complicated?

The buzzing started again.

No stop, it's a rhetorical question. I’ll ask again later when I’m not running on empty. Right now, I need to decide what to do with this gun.

He looked down the sights of the pistol as though to fire wondered if he could have shot Rich.

[Ballistic Projection (0) activated.]

The glowing line extending out from the barrel seemed even more useful from this end of the gun.

That does seem pretty damn handy. If that's the level 0 for this I bet it gets awesome. We need to talk about unlocking more abilities once all this blows over. Why did the beam only come on once I gripped it like that?

[That is when you thought about using the weapon.]

That made sense. Raz nodded and tucked it back away. He pulled out the baton and folding knife and examined them.

[Weapon Inspect rank one activated.]

[Folding pocket knife. Material: Low carbon corrosion resistant steel. Function information: Assisted open, Liner lock. Condition: poor/abused, Secondary Condition: Moderately sharp edge. Quality: low.]

Yeah, it's a piece of junk, but that was obvious.

[Weapon Inspect rank one activated.]

[Collapsible baton. 200mm closed, 530mm deployed. Function: inertial deployment, flick wrist and arm to deploy. Material: steel alloy, Condition: good, Quality: moderate.]

I guess I can keep them both for now. Wait, why did the weapon inspection thing not kick in for the gun?

[Current weapon inspection provides far less information than you already know about a third generation model 22 Glock. Also, you have already declined to inspect one of the same model.]

I was looking forward to comparing what I know to the inspection.

[Weapon Inspect rank one activated. Output truncated to include only that which is provided by the unlocked ability, which would include all observable external written information.]

[Glock model 22 handgun. Calibre: .40, capacity 10+1 or 15+1 depending on magazine. Function: semi-automatic. Material: Polymer frame, Surface treated steel slide. No detected upgrades. Condition: good. Quality: excellent.]

Too bad the pistol is just trouble waiting to happen. Wonder if it would have helped if I was carrying one of mine the day they got me?

The buzzing started.

I appreciate the effort but when you know it's rhetorical, don’t sweat crunching the numbers or whatever unless it's important. Besides, I know the answer is probably not. The big guy was Fidel, and that spray was way too fast acting. I should have just stayed alert, in my car and if they still managed to hit me like that, I should have driven away. That’s all ancient history now.

The buzzing receded.

He removed the magazine and then manually cycled the round out of the pistol into his hand. The loose bullet went into the magazine, and the magazine into his pocket. After another moment of thought, he disassembled the pistol and dropped one of the parts into the dumpster.

Half an hour of trudging later, he had disposed of the weapon piece by piece into various trash cans and dumpsters. The frame went into what looked like a lawn waste burn barrel. He hoped it would get burned up with no one being the wiser. Around the next corner he saw what had to be the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld.

“Oh thank god for 24-hour Korean bbq!”

Shut up, I can talk to myself if I want to.

Bee didn’t reply.

With food in his stomach, Raz felt even more tired. Sitting down and eating felt like heaven. He caught himself dozing in his seat. One of the workers that spoke English came by and pointed asked him if he needed anything else, again. The implication that he’d better not fall asleep in the restaurant wasn’t lost on Raz.

“Hey, actually there is something I need. Could I get you guys to call me a cab?”

The young man agreed, and Raz was just dozing off again when the employee shook him awake. The cab was a welcome sight.

Raz got in and gave a cross-street near Sia’s place. “I got $27, get me as close to this location as you can.”

The cabbie grunted assent, and they drove off.

Raz woke up to the cabbie yelling at him. “No sleeping in the car! $27, you get out now.”

Raz opened bleary eyes and spotted Sia’s building down the block. It looked like familiarity and safety. He handed over the wad of small bills and got out.

A few minutes later he entered the main building door code and went up to her unit. He knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again louder.

Where would she be on a... whatever night tonight is?

He heard someone coming up the steps. At first, looking down at her as she climbed the stairs he thought it was Sia, but noticed the darker tan, slimmer figure, and shorter hair. He was glad to have caught himself before he said something stupid. He recognized her sister.

“Oh hey, Nona is it?”

She stared at him shocked. The packages fell from her hands. The scent of sweet and sour sauce filled the air. Her mouth moved silently. She almost looked like she was going to cry. She recovered and bent down to pick up the bags of take-out.

“Hey, uh, you’re Raz right? I’ve seen you in Sia’s post feed. Sure didn’t expect to see you, I mean, anyone at Sia’s door. I’m pretty sure she’s not expecting you.”

He sagged against the door frame. “I’m sure she’s not. Probably thinks I’ve been ghosting her. If she’s home, I’d like to talk to her.”

She finished gathering up the food. “She’s not feeling well right now. She had a really hard day.”

Looking him up and down, she shook her head. “You look like you’ve had a pretty tough day too. Let’s head in and let you get some rest. You look dead on your feet.”

She pulled out keys and opened the door. “Oh, by the way, I’m not Nona, I’m Ivy. I don’t think we’ve met.”

She lowered her voice. “Sia and my other sisters are in bed. I think they’re all asleep. Why don't you take the futon in the second room and I’ll put this food in the fridge for when everyone’s up.”

The futon Sia kept in her spare bedroom had never looked so inviting. Even though it was too short to stretch out on, and he always got his feet caught in the frame, at that moment, the futon looked like a glorious place of sanctuary and rest to him. He laid down on his back and then turned over on to his side to fall asleep.

Gotta figure out my next move. But later, after some rest.

He was asleep almost before finishing the thought.