Would you slow the fuck down?”Would you slow the fuck down?”
Fearless clipped in his seatbelt and pulled it tight. He gripped the door handle for dear life, his knuckles bright white. After their brush with death, he would have thought that Vicious would go back to driving like a grandmother with his hands at ten and two. But he did the opposite. He hammered the gas, swerving in and out of traffic as he raced to get out of Tharsis. Cheating death hadn’t humbled Vicious; it adrenalized him.
“My father keeps a small ship at a private spaceport outside of Tharsis.” Vicious continued, “We can be out of Mars orbit by midnight.”
Fearless threw him a hard side-eye, careful to keep the other eye on the road. “You keep driving like this we’re not going to be alive by midnight.”
“What would you have me do then, huh? Sit back, have a Kudo and wait for the next assassin from the Europa Crew to take a shot at me?”
“Alright, let’s just think about this for a second.” Fearless took a breath, then rolled out his theory. “You’re positive no one saw you last night, right?”
Vicious nodded. “Positive.”
“Then we have to consider the possibilities here. It could be the Europa Crew, sure. But we can’t rule out the Neptune Cartel, Slade’s biggest competitor. Or a low-level dealer who was fed up with her taking forty percent off the top. Hell, for all we know, it was an inside job.”
Vicious scoffed. “That’s absurd. Who in the Red Dragon would want me dead?”
“You are an asshole.”
Vicious gritted his teeth. He wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “What’s your point, Fearless?”
“My point is, if you—we—get on a ship, we’re gonna have to pass through the astral gates, where our identities will be logged and recorded. And if you don’t think there will be another asshole waiting on the other side to put a bullet in your—our— foreheads, then frankly you deserve to die.”
Vicious grumbled. He was right. “Fine. We stay here. On Tharsis. But we trust no one. It’s just you and me from here on out. You hear me? Nobody.”
Fearless took this in. He was right. It was a fair point. For all they knew, it could be an inside job. Anything was possible. Then, it occurred to him. He turned to Vicious. Raised an eyebrow.
“There is one person we can trust.”
* * *
The old iron fire escape creaked beneath their feet. They were seven stories up and it felt like at any moment the entire thing could come crashing down and it would be curtains for the Red Dragon’s least famous janitors. Vicious and Fearless knelt on either side of a small apartment window. It was dark inside.
Vicious looked into the pitch black apartment and then whispered to Fearless. “We couldn’t have just called?”
Fearless angry-whispered back at him. “And let whoever is trying to murder you track our location because you were stupid enough to use your cell phone? Absolutely not!”
“Well excuse me! I’ve never had anyone try to murder me before.”
“Clearly!”
Fearless held up his hand to shush Vicious. He could hear something coming from inside the apartment. They listened closely. They could hear a soft moaning coupled with the repetitive thud thud thud of a headboard hitting the wall.
Fearless’s jaw dropped like a teenager. “She’s getting laid!”
“We should go.” Vicious motioned to the fire escape’s ladder. “This is weird.”
“Who do you think she’s banging?”
“I don’t care! Can we go, please?”
Fearless cupped his hands around his eyes, attempting to see inside. “You don’t think it’s Spider, do you?”
“Why do you care so much?”
Fearless scoffed. “I don’t.”
Vicious grinned a shit-eating-grin. “Hol-y shit. You like her, don’t you?”
“I don’t like like-like her. I just like being around her.”
“Because you like her!”
Fearless began to spin. “You say a word to Goldie about this and I stab you—”
The window flew open so fast it nearly broke off its hinges. In the evening breeze, seven stories up stood Goldie. Her body hastily wrapped in a bathrobe, her hair tussled. And although her cheeks were awash with a post-coitus glow, the shimmer quickly gave way and was replaced with an angry crimson.
“What in the hell are you two sick fucks doing standing outside my bedroom window?”
Fearless grinned, but Vicious quickly interjected, before he could say something that would get them both thrown off the fire escape.
“Look, Goldie. We got a situation.”
Goldie shook her head. “Tell the girls you’re architects. Or dolphin trainers. I don’t care. I can’t help you get laid tonight.” She grabbed the window frame and began to pull it back down. Vicious stuck his hand out and stopped it. He looked her in the eye. Sincere.
“A real situation.”
Goldie sighed. She looked back into her dark apartment, then back to Vicious. “Give me five minutes.”
Vicious nodded. “Thank you.”
* * *
They sat at a small kitchen table, three glasses and a cheap bottle of bourbon between them. Fearless’s eyes wandered to the refrigerator. Pictures clung to its surface with the help of small flower-shaped magnets. A daisy held a picture of a family barbecue. A tulip held a picture of four friends with their arms draped around each other’s shoulders. He wondered what it would be like to be a part of her family. To have her friends become his friends, too. To be able to paper their refrigerators with images of their shared history. But his mind couldn’t wander for long, as he was interrupted by:
“I owe you one, Hugo. Thanks.”
Goldie hung up and placed her cell phone on the table. She poured herself three fingers of bourbon and downed it quickly. Vicious watched as she placed the empty glass back on the table. He motioned to it.
“I’m going to assume that drink wasn’t a celebratory one.”
Goldie shook her head. “That was my guy inside the Europa Crew. The drunk you beat the shit out of? He’s dead.”
Vicious looked to the floor. He slowly shook his head. For a moment, it was as if he felt remorse.
Goldie continued. “His name was Nicky Cortez. He just joined their outfit. Was set to be initiated next week.”
Fearless interjected. “Then that rules out the Crew as the shooter. Ain’t no way you’re sending an assassin to shoot up Slade’s place over some baby errand boy—”
“Not quite.” She took a breath, then continued. “Nicky Cortez has an older brother. Darien. He’s a capo in the Crew and from what I’m told, he has the clearance to authorize something like this. It doesn’t mean he did it. But we can’t rule them out just yet.”
Vicious sat back in his seat. “Shit.”
Fearless poured himself a few fingers of bourbon. “Shit is right.”
Then, as Fearless threw back his bourbon, Goldie stood up and walked to the pantry and pulled out a pack of popcorn. She popped it into the microwave and turned it on. Then sat back at the table.
Fearless’s eyes narrowed, bewildered at the snack choice. “Popcorn? Now?”
She held up a finger. As if she was telling them to wait one minute. When, suddenly—
Pop. Pop. P-pop. P-pop-pop.
Goldie lowered her voice. “You two should both know that the Red Dragon is always listening.” She leaned forward. “Now, we can’t rule out the Europa Crew, but we also can’t rule out that this was an inside job.”
Fearless turned to Vicious. He loudly cleared his throat. A-hem. As if to say, told you so.
Vicious whisper-snapped at him, “Shut up, Fearless,” then turned back to Goldie. “What makes you think it’s an inside job?”
Goldie glanced at the titanium briefcase tucked underneath the table. “Did Dodd tell you what you were carrying?”
Vicious shook his head. “Of course not. Figured it was cash. Diamonds, maybe.”
“Not quite.”
Fearless and Vicious traded a glance, confused. Goldie explained.
“Three days ago someone broke into a medical lab on Venus where scientists were developing a top secret synthetic stimulant for the military known as HEX1516. Word is, it’s so pure it can keep a soldier up for days on end without the side effects of cocaine or speed. When the cops arrived, they discovered that a single hard drive was missing. On it were the step-by-step instructions on how to manufacture HEX1516 in mass quantities.”
Vicious perked up. “And you think the Red Dragon’s involved?”
“I don’t think, I know. When you used to steal diamonds for a living, you make a few friends in the high-end security business. Just so happens that one of these friends built the security system for the lab. His back was to the camera, so they didn’t capture his face. But they did get his piece sticking out of his waist. A Glock 19 Gen 5 9mm with a coiled dragon on the bottom of the clip.”
Fearless and Vicious both reached into their waistbands, pulled out their respective Glock 9mms, and ejected the clip. On the bottom of each was a small coiled dragon etched into the surface, just as Goldie had described.
Vicious smirked. The pieces were slowly coming together. “So, what you’re saying is, the Red Dragon stole the drive from the lab to hand over to Slade so she could mass produce the solar system’s next big party drug—until someone decided to make a play for it.”
Goldie nodded. “Exactly.”
But Fearless wasn’t convinced. This didn’t quite add up. “Listen, it’s a great theory, especially since you know I was the one who suggested the inside job thing first, but that’s neither here nor there—”
Vicious rolled his eyes. And so did Goldie.
Fearless continued, “But why the hell would Dodd send two janitors on their first job to deliver the most valuable case in the entire solar system? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Goldie shrugged. “Maybe that’s why he did it. No one would ever suspect you two idiots of carrying a case like that.”
They were interrupted by a loud DING!
Fearless motioned to the kitchen. “Popcorn’s done. And unfortunately, so is this conversation.”
Goldie scowled. “That wasn’t the microwave.” She picked up her cell phone off the table. Her eyes ticked to the screen. They widened. Then widened some more. She quickly looked up to Fearless and Vicious—absolutely terrified. “You both need to leave, now.”
But they didn’t budge. Fearless looked to her, confused. “What are you talking about?”
Goldie quickly stood up. “Right the fuck now, let’s go!”
Vicious and Fearless hopped up to their feet, briefcase in tow, as Goldie frantically ushered them back through her bedroom and pushed up the window that led out to the fire escape.
Vicious turned back to her. “Goldie. What the hell is going on?”
“The Red Dragon just activated the zero protocol—”
Goldie reluctantly turned her cell phone toward them. On the screen was a picture of Fearless and Vicious, side-by-side. Below the photos was bold text. The Red Dragon’s version of a wanted poster. It read:
WARNING. THE ZERO PROTOCOL INITIATED HAS BEEN ACTIVATED FOR THE FOLLOWING MEMBERS: FKA “FEARLESS,” FKA “VICIOUS.” YOU ARE HEREBY AUTHORIZED TO KILL ON SIGHT.
Vicious swallowed nervously. Then said, “You were right. Dodd thinks we murdered Slade and stole the hard drive.”
Goldie motioned toward the open window. There were tears in her eyes. “You have to go. I can’t help you anymore. If they find out you were here, they’ll kill me, too.”
Vicious nodded. “I understand. Thank you for everything.”
But Fearless didn’t share his sentiment. He pointed the briefcase at Goldie. “We’re not leaving until you tell me how to open this case.”
Goldie looked shaken. “What? I don’t know how to open it.”
Fearless grew angry. His normally laid back cadence now laced with rage. Maybe he was doing it from fear. Or maybe he knew it was the only way to get what they needed.
“We’re on our own now. And the only leverage we might have, the only thing that might keep us alive, is in this fucking case. So tell me who can open it. Or we sit here. And come sunrise the Red Dragon lights this whole fucking place up.”
Goldie waffled for a moment, then grabbed Fearless’s hand. She grabbed a ball-point pen off a nearby nightstand and began to write on his skin, pressing a little harder than she should.
Fearless recoiled. “Ow, what the fuck?”
Goldie pressed harder. Making sure to dot her I’s and cross her T’s. Fearless looked at the back of his hand where an address was scribbled in blue ink. It read:
615 STONE
He stared at it, puzzled. “What is this?”
“That’s where you’ll find Pouncey. She’s the best safecracker in the solar system. If she can’t open that case, no one can.”
Fearless nodded. “Thanks.”
Vicious climbed out the window onto the fire escape. Fearless followed. When, Goldie called out to him.
“Fearless?”
He turned back. “Yeah?”
“You ever threaten me again and I will slowly dismember your body and scatter it around the solar system so no one will ever, ever be able to find you.”
Fearless grinned. That grin.
“Promise?”
* * *
Fearless and Vicious quickly descended from the fire escape and into the dead-end alley behind Goldie’s apartment building where they had left Dodd’s town car. They hustled toward it. Given that they were now sworn enemies of the Red Dragon, they were eager to get the hell out of there. And fast. They reached the town car where Vicious fumbled in his pants pockets for the keys, but found nothing. Fearless impatiently pulled on the passenger door handle.
“Would you hurry up?”
Vicious continued to feverishly dig through his pockets. “Where the hell are they?”
“What do you mean, where are they?”
“The keys. I don’t know where they are. I can’t find them!”
Fearless’s eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. “Are you seriously telling me that we’re number one on the Red Dragon’s kill list and you can’t find your fucking car keys??”
“They were just here a minute ago, I swear!”
“You know what, screw it. I’m just going to kill you myself for being such a moron.”
Vicious patted the lapel of his suit jacket and heard a familiar clink. A wave of relief rushed over him as he reached inside his suit jacket to reveal the keys. He held them high.
“Got ’em.”
Vicious unlocked the door and opened it wide, when something caught Fearless’s ear. It was a familiar sound. A kind of metallic grinding. Flick. Flick. Flick. Fearless turned to the open end of the alley, where a fire-red ember burned bright. A cigarette. He softly whispered to himself.
“Spider…”
Vicious’s eyes slowly ticked to Fearless. Then to the open end of the alley where the cigarette burned bright. He too knew instantly who it was. “Shit.” He quickly turned back to Fearless. “Get down, now!”
BRAAAAAAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
A hail of gunfire burst from the muzzle of two Sig Sauer MCX submachine guns, briefly illuminating the alley and the two assailants who held them. Spider and Karma. Fearless and Vicious dove to the ground and furiously crawled as the town car was shredded by MCX’s .300 AAC blackout shells, raining shards of glass and metal fragments down on them.
“How the fuck did they find us so fast?” Fearless cried out as he struggled to put a fresh clip into his 9mm.
“Goldie fucked us!” Vicious snapped back, as he did the same.
“How dare you! She would never!”
“See! You do like her! I knew it!”
“Fuck you!” Fearless growled, as he racked the 9mm slide. KA-CHUNK!
“Are you ready to do this or what?!”
Vicious nodded. As Fearless raised three fingers. 3… 2… 1…
Fearless and Vicious rolled out from the front of the town car and moved along either side. They each popped their respective chrome handle, swinging the heavy metal door’s outward in order to form a standing bulletproof barricade. Each raised their 9mm high and fired upon their new found Red Dragon foes in unison. Bang-bang-bang-Bangbangbang! And even for a couple janitors, it was a sight to behold. Fearless and Vicious were in perfect sync, going toe-to-toe with two of the Red Dragon’s best. Spider and Karma momentarily fell back, giving them just enough time to get inside the town car.
Vicious turned the ignition, as Fearless reached for his door. But he quickly shook him off. “No! Keep it open!”
The town car kicked to a start. Vicious threw the car into reverse and mashed the accelerator. The throaty V-8 engine roared to life as they whipped backwards down the alley. Vicious clocked the rearview mirror, where Spider and Karma stood pat with the MCXs in hand. The muzzles flashed in the mirror as they emptied their clips upon the town car yet again.
BRAAAAAAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
But as they reached the end of the alley and the town car emerged from the darkness, Spider and Karma saw the fruit of Vicious’s ideas in real time. The speed at which they were traveling had created an immense amount of drag, enough to keep both doors open and giving the town car a T-shape that filled the entire alley. As this hulking, winged beast descended upon them, Spider cried out into the night.
“Get the fuck out of the way!”
The two storied Red Dragon assassins quickly dove out of the way, just narrowly missing being split in half by the town car’s doors. Vicious reversed into the street, cutting across traffic and into the other lane, where he threw the town car in drive and punched the accelerator—causing both doors to shut simultaneously.
Inside, Fearless could barely believe what he had just seen. It was as if his mostly insecure sometimes hot-tempered friend had turned into the world’s greatest stunt driver at the blink of an eye.
“Where the hell did you learn to drive like that?!” Fearless cackled.
Vicious grinned as he white-knuckled the steering wheel. “Race car camp.”
“Did you say, race car camp?”
Fearless stared back, his jaw slack. Vicious did a double take at him.
“What? I used to go every summer!”
Fearless’s eyes narrowed, incredulous at the thought. “How rich are you, man?”
Vicious chuckled as he took the nearest exit and guided the town car onto the freeway that ran alongside Tharsis City. He swerved in and out of traffic, continuing to press the accelerator to the floor as he put some distance between them and the Red Dragon’s finest.
“We’re going to need a place to lay low tonight. You grew up on these streets. Is there anywhere that we can hide tonight where the Red Dragon won’t be able to find us?” Vicious asked.
Fearless chewed on this for a moment. “Yeah. I know a place. But I’m telling you right now, it’s not exactly a five-star getaway.”
“What? What are you trying to say?”
“You’re a little fancy, that’s all.”
“Me? Fancy? I’m not fancy.”
“You’re a little fancy. It’s not a big deal. You just are.”
“I am not fan—”
BRAAAAAAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
Another barrage of bullets strafed the town car. Vicious clocked the rearview mirror, only to find that Spider and Karma’s all black Land Rover Defender 90 was nearly bumper to bumper with them.
“Fuck! That’s not possible!” Vicious said, as he quickly jerked the wheel right into the other lane, momentarily riding the shoulder as he accelerated past a half-dozen cars and zipped back into the lane.
“I told you it wasn’t Goldie!” Fearless quipped.
“We were out of their sight when we got on the highway! There’s just no way they’d be able to find us that quickly!”
Fearless shrugged. “Maybe it was a lucky guess?”
“Lucky guess my ass.” Vicious grumbled. He mulled it over for a moment, when it occurred to him. Vicious chuckled. Of course. “We’re in Dodd’s car.”
Fearless furrowed his brow. “No shit.”
“He’s a capo. Red Dragon headquarters knows the location of all of their most senior members at all times. It’s a matter of security.”
“Which means?”
“There’s a tracker on this car.”
Fearless’s eyes narrowed. He already knew what was coming next. So he didn’t bother to ask. He just waited for Vicious to say it.
“On the bottom.”
Fearless stared back at him. “And how do you suppose we get said tracker off the bottom of the car?”
Vicious winced. “Well, we can’t exactly stop, can we?”
Fearless boiled. “Oh, so you want me to get it off the bottom of the moving car??”
“I can’t get it, I’m driving!”
“Fuck you! Let me drive, then!”
“I’m the better driver!”
Fearless scoffed. “Why? Because you went to race car school when you were twelve?”
Vicious snapped back proudly. “Yes!”
BRAAAAAAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
Another round of bullets rang out. Fearless and Vicious instinctively ducked, as the rearview mirror was blown to pieces. The windshield was peppered with bullets, leaving a splintered spider web in its wake. It had appeared that time, unfortunately, was not on their side.
Fearless grumbled as he unsnapped his seatbelt. “Fine! I’ll do it! But keep the car straight, will you?”
He climbed out of the passenger window, shoulders first. The ferocious highway wind whipped through his hair. He quickly turned to the Defender behind them, firing off a half-dozen shots to buy himself some time.
Bangbangbang-bangbangbang!
The Defender’s tires screeched on the pavement as it quickly swerved out of the line of fire and fell back a few car lengths. Fearless quickly took advantage of the opportunity and bent at the waist. He turned and shouted back to Vicious inside, “Hold my legs!”
With one hand holding tight onto the side-view mirror, and Vicious’s right arm clutching somewhere around his ankle, Fearless slowly shimmied his body down the side of the car’s exterior. The heat rose from the asphalt below. He could feel it on his face. A day’s worth of sun and rubber tires slowly searing his cheeks. And as he reached the bottom of the chassis, he poked his head under—to find a tracking device, with a blinking red indicator light. The only problem was, it was planted below the trunk.
“Ah, shit,” Fearless muttered.
CRASH!
The Defender slammed into the driver’s side of the car, pushing the town car horizontally across the highway. Fearless dangled by the side-view mirror, like a sloth hanging from a single tree branch. He looked up to the mirror, grateful that Dodd refused to trade in this old piece of shit. Because, fortunately for Fearless, this town car was an older model town car with mirrors made entirely of chrome that were bolted into the frame, unlike the new ones made of fiberglass that were merely glued.
“What did I say about holding onto my feet!” Fearless shouted to no response, as Vicious managed to gain control of the town car which was now in the midst of a dangerous high speed game of cat and mouse. Fearless quickly formulated a plan. In order to get under the trunk, he would first need to get on top of the car’s hood. And so, he reached up with his right hand and grabbed hold of the support pillar that connected the roof to the windshield. He slowly pulled himself up, wedging his left foot into the open passenger window for support—and then, in one go-for-broke move, flung his body onto the car’s hood! Just as—
CRASH!
The Defender slammed into the town car yet again, causing Fearless to slide across the hood, from one side to the other, nearly falling off the edge but managing to hold on. Fearless locked eyes with Vicious behind the wheel.
“What are you doing on the hood?” Vicious cried.
“You just worry about keeping it steady!” Fearless snapped back.
Fearless slowly army-crawled up the windshield and onto the roof. When, he looked to his right, and saw the Defender coming in for another body slam, which would surely be the death blow, but he managed to draw his 9mm and hold it flat against the roof—
Bangbangbang!
Fearless could only squeeze off three shots, but they were enough to send the Defender flying across the highway and momentarily out of sight. Fearless moved across the roof, but stopped. His eyes ticked to the trunk. In order to see under the trunk, he was going to need something to hold onto. And with the trunk closed, it would be physically impossible to hold onto it while looking underneath. Then, he got an idea.
Fearless shouted to Vicious. “Pop the trunk!”
“Do what?!” Vicious called back through the blown rear window.
“Just do it!”
WHOOSH!
The trunk shot open and began to flail violently in the wind. Fearless slowly found his bearings and rose to his feet. In order to get into the trunk, he would have to jump over it. And so, Fearless took a deep breath—and leaped over the open trunk door, his feet landing flat inside the trunk! Fearless quickly fell to his knees and held onto the bumper as he bent at the waist. And now he was finally able to see under the trunk, he saw it. The blinking red tracker. Fearless reached for it—but it was too far! His fingertips grazed the tip of the tracker. It was so close he could actually touch it.
And then the Defender roared back into view. They were now behind the town car and closing in quick. Fearless reached into his waistband and raised his 9mm. He aimed it at the Defender’s windshield—when he realized the solution to his problem.
Fearless flipped back under the town car. He lined up the tracker with his 9mm—bang!—and blew it off the town car’s undercarriage, scattering it across the highway! Then, Fearless flipped himself back into the trunk and laid on his back. And with his remaining bullets, he took aim at the encroaching Defender. He drew them in, waiting for the Defender to make contact.
Bangbangbang!
Fearless pumped three bullets into the driver’s side of the windshield. Blood splattered throughout the interior, as the Defender careened across the highway and into the guardrail where it came to a stop with a sickening crunch. Spider and Karma had to be dead.
Fearless lay on his back. The town car’s trunk still open, flailing in the wind. The stars shimmering in the sky above him. It occurred to him that he’d never seen the stars in Tharsis City before. Everything was so bright all the time—all the buildings, all the digital billboards—that it washed out the sky. Fearless reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Placed one in his mouth. Lit it. He took a long drag.
Then slowly exhaled. And for a moment, he was at peace.
* * *
Chirp-chirp. Chirp-chirp. Chirp-chirp.
Fearless and Vicious sat on the hood of the bullet-ridden, windowless town car on the outskirts of Tharsis City, overlooking a water purification reservoir. They had decided to hide out there for the night, trading pulls from a bottle of whiskey Dodd kept in the car as they watched steam slowly dance off the surface of the emerald green water. The water on Mars was poisonous. It was too acidic to even smell, let alone drink. In order to make it suitable for human consumption, it needed to be treated with the same chemicals they used to clean old swimming pools. It was what gave the water its emerald hue. The government claimed it was safe, but the residents of Tharsis City refused to drink it. They voted to have their water flown in from Europa instead, where it was naturally occurring and pure like it once was on Earth. The city didn’t know what to do with the leftover green water, so they piped it out to East Tharsis. Just like they did with everything else that gave you cancer.
“What’s this one called?” Fearless asked, referring to the repetitive chirp.
Vicious looked to his cell phone. “This one’s called crickets. Whatever the hell that is.”
“Are you playing that off your phone?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Can I see it?”
“Sure.”
Vicious handed him the phone—and Fearless immediately chucked it in the reservoir. It sunk to the bottom like a stone. Vicious sat there, his jaw slack as Fearless dressed him down.
“I just nearly died on the highway trying to get a tracker off a moving car. I will be damned if I die because you gave up our location because you wanted to listen to crickets on your cell phone.”
Vicious cringed. “Sorry.” He motioned to Fearless’s cell phone that he clutched in his hand. “Aren’t you going to toss yours in, too?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I turned my cell signal off.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Why didn’t you just turn mine off?!”
Fearless glared at him. “Because I can’t trust you to not turn it back on, that’s why.”
Vicious shook his head. He took another pull of the whiskey and winced as it went down. He stared out the emerald water for a moment, hypnotized by its slow, mechanical churn. Then turned to Fearless.
“How’d you know about this place, anyway?”
Fearless chuckled to himself. “I used to sleep here sometimes when I was a kid. No one bothers you out here. Everyone thinks the smell gives you cancer.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“I guess we’ll find out. Someday.”
Vicious chuckled, too. Fearless was his best friend. But sometimes it felt like he knew nothing about him. Throughout their friendship, they had avoided most of the tough questions. But as they were stuck sitting on the edge of a potentially poisonous water reservoir with a hit placed on their heads, he figured now was as good a time as ever to ask.
“What was it like, you know, growing up on the streets?”
Fearless shrugged. “Cold.”
Vicious pressed him. He wasn’t getting off the hook that easy. “No, but for real.”
“I guess I don’t know what you mean?”
“Alright, look. Let me put it this way. My father was never a good person. And he got even worse after my mother died. But even on the hardest nights, when I would lie in bed and cry myself to sleep, I knew he was in the house. Somewhere. Even if I hated him. I still had him. So I guess my question is, what’s it like to know there’s no one else but you?”
Fearless took a deep breath. And an even bigger swig of the whiskey. He let it singe his throat, then spoke.
“You know the feeling of seeing a tiger in a cage? Where you can’t quite believe what you’re looking at, you know, this beautiful creature that you have no reference for. You’ve seen one, sure. On TV, maybe. But when you see one up close, you can’t really process what you’re looking at. Because you don’t know what it’s like to be around one everyday of your life. How it acts. How it feels. Heck, how it smells. That’s what it’s like when I see a family. I feel like I’m at the zoo, watching something I’ll never quite understand. And I’ve been chasing a feeling I don’t even know ever since.”
Fearless shrugged. Then took another swig. “It’s why I joined the Red Dragon. And you see how that’s worked out for me.”
Vicious could hear the bitterness in his voice. “Listen, Fearless… I’m sorry about—”
But Fearless wouldn’t let him finish. “Save your apology. What happened, happened. And now, it is what it is. We just gotta get through it. One day, I’ll probably do something I regret. And we’ll have to get through that, too.”
Vicious took in his words. It was a wiser side of Fearless. One that he was just now getting to know. Fearless took his suit jacket and balled it up. He placed it between his head and the windshield and closed his eyes.
“Get some sleep. We’re going to this Pouncey bright and early tomorrow—”
Vicious didn’t say a word. He just nodded. He was lucky to have a friend like Fearless. He’d probably never have another one quite like him. And so, he too tucked his jacket behind his head.