DH.2.3
"Use your head, Nothing. You think someone wouldn't notice a smoking crater where this kid's head used to be when they dig the corpse up from the Delaware? If history's taught us anything, this kid has, like, five more rugrats waiting for him to come home and knowing exactly where he went. We won't have time to do anything crazy," Mrs. Heartbeat says, withdrawing one glove from her hands, revealing sharp, red nails. "Let's just do this the easy way. I'll turn his heart off, and when they find him, everyone will assume it's hypothermia. How's that sound?"
Mr. Nothing stares at me. Well, I can feel his eyes, behind big black sunglasses, boring a hole in the back of my head.
He sighs. "Every fucking time, we have them dead to rights. Dead to fuckin' rights! And there's some stupid reason why we can't just ice them. You know what? Fuck that, I'll deal with the consequences later." Click. "Down on your knees, and prepare to meet your maker."
"That's not a very nice thing for a Christian man to say," I comment, even as I'm getting down on my knees and very vividly preparing to meet my maker. How would Sam get out of this? How would Sam get out of this? I'm trying to make noises but nothing's happening, and I know it's because of Mr. Nothing. "Can you let go of my fucking shoulder, at least?"
"You think I'm retarded?" He asks, grabbing me tighter. He presses the barrel of the gun against my head. Every single regret in my life flashes through at once. I'm sorry, Amelia. I'm sorry, Amira. Mom, Dad. Jason, Sam, the others. Akilah, too, you were too good for me. Not, like, in a romantic--
BANG!
The bullet sails right through the edge of my face, ripping off a chunk of my upper ear and carving a gouge across the side of my hair like a bad haircut. I can now say with 100% certainty that I am not really "cool" with getting shot, FUCK, OW.
I'm used to working deaf, though. I just have to push through the pain, Bloodhound style. No problem. Why'd he miss? It's only when I get yanked to my feet and given a running start do I have the smallest little bit of an idea. I catch sight of Akilah darting around from container to container, so I sweep out through every gun I can think and I start eating noises. I always keep a couple of gunshot noises and firecrackers ready, so I play them right on Mr. Nothing's sunglasses and Mrs. Heartbeat's earrings, too, as close to their ears as I can get them.
I won't bother mentally transcribing all the sound effects, you get it, man.
The world explodes into chaos as Akilah appears out of nowhere, strings of invisible force whipping out and snatching goons off their feet like rag dolls. I don't know where the hell she came from, but in that moment, I've never been happier to see her scrawny ass.
All around me, Kingdom flunkies are shouting and scrambling for their weapons as Akilah flings them aside with deft, practiced movements. It's like watching a master puppeteer at work, bodies flying every which way with a mere twitch of her fingers. Behind the mask of confusion and rage, I see more than a few of them start to put two and two together, tracking her erratic motions with their guns.
I can't let that happen. I've already eaten a bunch of gunshot noises, I blast it right in the faces of the closest gunmen. They reel back, clutching at their ears and howling in pain at the sudden deafening boom. Perfect opening.
Springing to my feet, I book it for the nearest container, ducking behind it just as the first shots start ringing out. Bullets ping off the metal all around me, kicking up sparks and shredding the powdery snow. One of them just barely clips me, ripping a cut in my clothes. Too fucking close.
"What the fuck was that?!" I hear Mr. Nothing bellow over the cacophony. "Who's shooting us?"
I chance a peek out from behind my cover and see Akilah zipping around the edges of the yard, using the containers for cover as she disarms goons left and right. She moves with a fluid grace, every tug of her invisible strings precise and economical, betraying not an ounce of wasted energy. I know she can't keep it up forever though, not at this pace. Sooner or later, she's gonna slip up, and then what?
I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. No time for doubt, not with this shitshow unfolding. Right now, all I can do is try to buy us some breathing room and get the hell out of this deathtrap. I focus my powers on a nearby snow plow, the roar of its engine loud even through the clamor of battle.
With a flex of will, I snatch the noise for myself, leaving the plow eerily silent as it chugs along. It's a lot louder when it gets blasted back in Mrs. Heartbeat's face, directly in her nostrils, making her recoil into the snow, her face clenching up tight like she just got pepper sprayed. Have you ever listened to a bass-heavy song super loud in the car? You ever notice how the kick drum makes your eyes twitch? It's weird, isn't it?
I use the distraction to slip out from behind my makeshift barricade, keeping low and using the stacks of containers as cover. Akilah sees me moving and with a tug of her invisible strings, yanks a heavy equipment crate into the path of our pursuers. It buys us a few precious seconds as they scramble to get around the obstacle.
We keep leapfrogging our way towards the nearest exit, me running interference with phantom sounds while she clears our path. Every gunshot that rings out is met with the deafening retort of another pistol, snatched from who-knows-where and blasted right back into their stunned faces. It's disorienting even for me, all these layered noises crashing together into a discordant symphony of violence and chaos.
I spot a gap in the fences up ahead and angle for it, Akilah hot on my heels. More gunfire rips through the air around us, punching fist-sized holes in the containers and kicking up fans of snow with each impact. One lucky shot grazes my side, sending a blinding starburst of agony ripping through my body.
I stumble, nearly going down, but Akilah's there in an instant. With a flick of her wrists, an entire stack of empty crates goes toppling over, forming an impromptu barrier between us and our pursuers. I gasp for breath, pressing a hand to the ragged tear in my coat. It comes away slick and crimson, the sudden shock of seeing my own blood making my head swim.
"C'mon, D, we gotta move!" Akilah shouts, grabbing me by the arm and hauling me bodily towards the exit. I grit my teeth against the blinding pain and force myself to keep moving, one agonizing step after another.
We spill out into the streets, the sounds of pursuit fading into the howling blizzard. Akilah ducks us into a nearby alley, sheltered from prying eyes, and I slump against the filthy brickwork with a groan.
"Shit, you're hit bad," she pants, her face a mask of concern as she examines the wound. "We gotta get you some help, man."
I try to play it cool, flashing her my most charming grin despite the way my vision is starting to tunnel. "What, this? Nah, baby, it's just a scratch. You shoulda seen me last Tuesday."
She's not buying it though. Quick as a flash, she shrugs out of her coat, sitting atop her winterized costume, and starts bunching it up, pressing the makeshift bandage tight against my side. Pain lances through me, white-hot and all-consuming, but I force it down with gritted teeth.
"Don't give me that tough guy bullshit," she snaps, her eyes glinting with a mixture of fear and fury. "I saw how much blood you're losing. We need to get you somewhere safe, ASAP."
I nod, already feeling my strength fading as the adrenaline rush ebbs away. "You're right, you're right. I know a place not far from here. Just…help me up, okay?"
She loops one of my arms around her shoulders and together, we stumble out into the street. I do my best to guide us, snatching snatches of conversation and ambient noise to mask our passage. Every step is agony, the world tilting dangerously from side to side with each shallow breath.
At one point, I trip over a loose chunk of ice and nearly faceplant right onto the sidewalk. Akilah hauls me up with a grunt, her face set in a grim line of determination as she adjusts her grip. "Come on, stay with me. We're almost there."
I want to make some wisecrack about how heavy I am, but my mouth can't seem to form the words properly. Everything feels leaden, disconnected, like I'm suddenly operating on a delay. The blood loss must be catching up to me finally.
Somehow, I manage to guide us deeper into the frozen maze of side streets and back alleys that make up this area of Tacony. We stick to the shadows as best we can, doing our level best to avoid any groups or wandering patrols. Not sure how successful we are – it's all kind of a blur at this point.
And then, finally, like a desert mirage, the battered old facade of the Tacony Music Hall looms into view. I nearly pass out from sheer relief at the sight of it. We made it, somehow. Must have burned through all my nine lives getting here, but hey, at least it's not a total wash. Akilah slams on the door - BANG BANG BANG! And a rush of voices comes down from Heaven to meet us, my head swimming in barely-there delirium.
Akilah shoulders her way through the busted front doors, practically dragging me at this point. I catch glimpses of familiar sights – the dusty lobby, the chipped tile floor, the dimly-lit halls branching off in every direction. There's a time I used to know every nook and cranny of this place, but right now, it all seems like ancient history.
Voices echo out to greet us, familiar and concerned. I see shapes moving towards us, hands reaching out to help support my dead weight. Sam's face swims into focus for a heartbeat, her weird razor-sharp teeth gleaming in the half-light. She's saying something, I think. Or maybe screaming it, I dunno. Everything's starting to go fuzzy around the edges now. Something is going into my cuts, and it's stinging like a motherfucker.
The last thing I'm aware of is Akilah gently lowering me to the floor, her lips moving in frantic words that I can no longer make out. Shapes and colors bleed together, the noises around me quickly fading into an ominous, all-encompassing silence.