Chapter 3, Part 2

bleakly

Wait.

Okay, that was a lie.

I heard murmurs.

Perhaps I was approaching the situation from the wrong angle.

It was simple, really. Everyone in the room was a lizard-person, after all.

Wait- what?

Yes, they were all lizard-people.  Lizard people have one great weakness:

Their eyes.

The two lizards looking down at me hissed like hot coals the second I opened my eyes.

This isn’t happening. But if I saw what’s really happening, my mind would break.

Shall we go?

The eyes.

I had to target the eyes, then run like hell.

THEIR EYES

The stairwell. Think. Stairwell.

I was already there. Lizard spit sailed over my shoulder – No, that’s a bullet. RUN.

Running, tumbling down stairs- same thing, right? I wasn’t planning on using my bones for anything anytime soon anyway.

You have a gun. Remember?

Of course. I will shoot them in the eyes.

Actually anywhere on their body works fine

Shut up.

I’ll shut up when you quit giggling. Psycho.

I’ll quit giggling after I jump through this giant… thing… made of… glass…

Window?

Yes. That. I will stop giggling once I jump through the window.

No you won’t.

I know.

Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Cover your head.

***

ow

***

Contingencies were incredibly important in my line of work. I hadn’t very many friends left, but dammit, I was ready for the unexpected.

Judas was all-out final call last-resort plan zero.

I’d written a special program for my handheld years before, designed for one-time-use-only. It was an incredibly complete level of encryption, really remarkable, and impossible to decipher so long as I used it just the one time- and when I wrote it I planned to use it exactly never. Thing is, I can never resist a great contingency. 

The program would send a tight-beam transmission from my handheld to the closest thing connected to a networked device- like someone’s toaster oven. That device would search for another, similar device elsewhere on the network, specifically somewhere near an abandoned factory in the southernmost part of town. The toaster oven or whatever on the far end would beam the transmission directly to Judas.

When I woke up in a soot-covered alley with brand new bruises and the knowledge that the lovely Miss Smith was in danger, my first thought was, of course, Fuck. No choice but to use Plan Zero.

My second thought was, Where the hell am I gonna get another contingency plan that good?

I entered a very long access code into my handheld, and by some fluke nothing went wrong. The program connected.

“Judas, it’s me.”

“That really you, Bleakly? Or should I call you Pilate?” It was weird hearing his voice after… God, I have no idea how long.

“I never had as many friends as you. Nicknames don’t stick.” True enough. But I had my reasons for shedding old monikers.

“Shame. It was a snappy thing we had going.”

“We don’t have long to talk.” I patted my pockets, hoping what I needed was still there.

“Of course not. You’re calling me. You put your life in danger every day, so the only time you’d break down and call me is if a beautiful woman’s life was in danger. And you know full well I can never resist a damsel in distress.”

“It’s a beautiful robot. But still.” Left coat pocket? Yes. I have them. “Do you still have that old Cold War bunker? With the Faraday cage?”

“You need it.” Not a question.

“I’ve probably got a tracking device implanted somewhere on me. It runs on bio-energy, which is lucky for me, since I’ve got a pocket full of Thann.”

“I’ll send someone to pick you up. I’ll tell them to pick up a dead body where exactly?”

I told him the location and got ready behind a dumpster, so I wouldn’t be seen from the street. The last thing I needed was some dumb cop picking up my “dead” body and waking to scare the crap out of the autopsy technicians…

Thann. It’s the drug they sell to kids who want to have near-death experiences. Flatlines you for a couple hours. In my case it’d shut down anything in my collar they were using to track me, for just long enough to get under the cover of Judas’ really impressive off-the-radar anti-government anti-nuclear self-sustaining underground bunker from which he operated a small smuggling empire.

I swallowed the pills and waited for them to take effect.

Alright. Hard part’s done. I’ve swallowed my pride, now all I have to do is swallow this and die… for a while.

 

 

 

Then I caught fire.

 

————–

jacobson 

Hannah and I took a little over an hour to reach Judas’ headquarters. She passed out almost immediately; she could hardly be blamed, since she’d been getting nothing but bad news for twenty-four hours, and barely half an hour of sleep during that.

I spent the whole time checking the mirrors, looking for any sign we were being followed. Doctor Smith’s final message had left me plenty uneasy- and if Thomas had resorted to contacting Judas, things had to be very bad. I knew full-well Judas could be trusted, but very little made sense. 

Neithermen. What the blazes… I hope to God Tom has some answers.

It was still raining when we arrived at the old warehouse. It’d been years since I’d seen the place, but little had changed. It still looked deserted, rusted-out. Unfit for existence, much less human use.

Though it didn’t look it, the place was a veritable fortress. Police were bribed to stay outside a two-block radius. Any homeless who wandered too close strangely disappeared. If you’d stayed in the same neighborhood long enough, you’d see the same cars driving by again, slowly. It was invisibly guarded but guarded nonetheless.

Thomas knows what he’s doing… or else we’re doomed anyway.

I pulled up to the front entrance of the warehouse. I saw someone and rolled down the window.

An elderly man carrying a wrench walked towards us. “Hello, hello. Can I help you two with anything? Are you lost?” He smiled vacantly. Old bastard’s probably packing enough heat to ah, hell with it.

“We’re here to see Judas. Bleakly sent us.”

The smile vanished from the man’s face. He produced a pocket radio, stepped back a few feet, and spoke in low tones without taking his eyes from us. He straightened up, but his face relaxed. “All right, then. Drive in there, park around the right. There’s an elevator in the back, you won’t miss it- it’s the only thing isn’t covered in rust.”

I pulled into the warehouse. It almost seemed bigger on the inside than the outside- a great synthetic cavern kept in existence only as camouflage. The perfect hiding place: an empty shell.

I roused Hannah and took her to the elevator. 

Before I could call the elevator a black car sped through the front entrance, stopping feet from us. Two of Judas’ thugs climbed out- I recognized one of them. Harry. From the old days.

Recognition flickered across the Irishman’s face for a split second before it returned to panic. “Oi! Help us out here- he’s thrashin’ around like he’s having a goddamn seizure!”

He opened the back door and the man in the back fell out, laughing like a maniac.

Like the most brilliant maniac I know.

Thomas smiled up at me, even as he scrabbled at the ground. His nose was bleeding and frankly he looked dangerous.

He spoke anyway. “Happy to see me, you fucking beautiful asshole?”