Enter The Merc

[Abram Dabra]

As a Mercenary he prided himself on getting any job done, no matter how dangerous or how crappy it may be. It didn't matter if he needed to bust open an old bank vault and raid a safety deposit box for pre bomb valuables. Or he could be protecting a caravan going across the Arizona desert. Even rescuing hostages from vile kidnappers, a job was a job. But man did he forget how much it sucked to be back at the bottom of the totem pole again. He didn't have his reputation in this state, let alone the city. Finding work was rough, and for a while his pride didn't let him take most of the shitty jobs that were thrown at him.

He wanted the good jobs, he wanted to kidnap the daughter of some important gang lord. Or to protect a small group of refugees from bandits as they make their way across dangerous gang infested territory. For a price of course, but really can you put a price on your own safety? He could, and it wasn't cheap. However people didn't seem to want to hire some walk in off the street for those kind of jobs, as his food supply ran out he found himself desperate. Which led to his current job, which was a piece of shit to be sure.

"God, this fucking sucks. I am way to talented to being doing this kind of shit."

He muttered to himself. Literally knee deep in shit. He had spent the last few hours digging out a hole in this guys back yard after being hired to find and repair his septic tank. He was just thankful that he was wearing a helmet or the smell would have been to much for him. As it was he was almost gagging as his shovel slid in to the pool of piss and shit. Another shovel full being poured in to the giant tub that he had built to house the waste.

"And make sure to get it all. I'm not paying you to slack off you hear me kid!"

The client called to him from a safe distance away. Somewhere that the old bat wouldn't have to smell his handiwork.

"Sure thing Mr. Donahue!" He said loudly with a chipper voice. His face scowling behind his mask. "You stupid old piece of shit. Why don't you grab a shovel and shovel up your own stupid shit." He mumbled to himself as he scooped up another shovel full of shit and poured it in to the container.

"What was that?" The client called as he craned his neck and placing a hand to his ears. Old fart had ears like a bat!

"N-nothing Mr. Donahue! I was just saying I should have thought to bring a bigger shovel!" Clyde replied back very quickly. He made a mental note that he was going to have to keep his grumbling down to an internal monologue. He also silently cursed himself, he needed to be extra careful right now. As a new comer he didn't have a reputation to fall back on, so first impressions were everything. He could be a snarky asshole later when people knew that he could handle his shit.

It took him a few hours to shovel out all of the shit from the pit that he dug. And it was messy and smelly work. Not only was he sweaty, but there was no way that he could sneak in to the hole he was squatting in until he hosed off as well. But he couldn't do that until he was done. And found a hose or something. More likely he would just jump in to a lake or something. Fuck the environment and worrying about pollution!

Still, the job wasn't done. The shit was shoveled out. But he still needed to repair the tank and then dispose of the shit. He still had a lot of work ahead of him. And no time for a break. With everything cleaned out he needed to weld up the cracks and large fucking hole that burst in the side of the tank.

Making a foul face behind his mask he knelt down in the shitty mud and brought out the blowtorch that had been provided for the job. Pointing it away from his face as he lit it up. The blue flame reflecting in his mask was enough to force him to smile along with an excited giggle that was almost maniacal in a child like way. Bringing metal and flame together he began to patch the hole up. It wouldn't be a permanent fix. Not like getting a new tank would be. But the guy wasn't paying him to find him a new tank. And in the world they lived in he didn't think there were many new ones left anymore. He certainly couldn't imagine anyone making them.

The patch job was mercifully quicker than the shoveling. But it still took him a bit of time. Not only for the big hole, but there were several small cracks and weak spots that he spotted. He patched those up as well, preemptively. He didn't want to be called back to do this again, or worse. Have this nut sack spread around that he did shoddy work! Once everything was good and patched up, if not exactly pretty he climbed his ass out of the pit and took a second to admire his work. Bending forward and placing his hands on his knees he let out a long exhale.

"Phew. Almost done."

"Oh no your not! You still have to fill in this giant hole you made in my yard you little shit. And then you need to haul away that crap. I won't stand for that crap sitting in my yard."

He gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut tight and sighed again through his teeth before snapping to attention and saluting the old nut sack of a client.

"Of course Sir. I wouldn't dream of leaving a job unfinished!"

Though he would be tempted to take a job to kill this guy on the cheap. He was kind of an ass, but he was right. The job was only half done. As much as he might not like it. Thus began the long process of shoveling all of the dirt back over the septic tank. Filling in the hole, and since he was just using a shovel it was taking forever. But the time he was finished with that the sun was already past it's peak and heading in to evening rather than afternoon. And yet he still wasn't done! He had thankfully acquired a large truck before the job. It was how he hauled the container in the first place. Though now it was a lot heavier as it sloshed with shit and piss and mud.

With grunting and more effort than he wanted to put in to it he was able to shoulder it up the ramp, spilling shit over the ramp and on to himself even more. Though he was already covered in shit. Both dry and wet. He couldn't help but wretch this time and dry heave as he rested inside the truck. That time a little bit of it get inside his helmet and the smell and feel of it was disgusting! Tilting his head back he felt it run back around his helmet and in to his hair. It was gross, but it kept it out of his face.

Shutting the door he approached the old man and held out his gloved hand as he looked at him expectantly.

"Alright old man. Job's done, and I'm going to haul this shit out of here so you don't have to deal with it. Time to pay up Gramps."

Job was done, now he just wanted to get paid.

"Well, you did do the job, but you sure took your sweet time doing it. I'm not sure that you should get the price we agreed on..."

"Listen old man! The deal was I deal with this today, and I did. Now pay up before I open up that truck and give your lawn a new layer of fertilizer!" He said raising a clenched shit covered fist.

Whether it was the threat of retaliation on the man's lawn, or the shit covered fist that was lifted up just under the old man's nose didn't matter. Because the old man's face paled visibly as his legs buckled. Actually, it was probably the smell. He reeked.

"Alright, taking your fucking money you little prick."The old man dug in to his pocket and held out a roll of cash. Clyde snatched that up so fast it was like lightning. Looking at the roll and thumbing through it, heedless of the shit getting on the bills he let out another maniacal laugh. He was back on his way to being on top!

"Well it was a pleasure doing business with you Sir. I hope in the future you think of me when you have a job that needs doing. And don't forget to recommend me to all of your friends!"

He tucked the money in to one of the pockets in his vest as he pulled out a damp and stinky business card and handed it to the man. As in he took the man's hand and shoved it in to his hand.

"Don't forget, if you need a job done big or small I'll do it and I'll do it right." As long as he didn't expect service with a smile. Giving the man a two finger salute he would turn and walk away.

What a loser.

Hopping in to the truck he turned the key and started it up before pulling out of there. Laughing once again. Not an easy job as he normally would like. But he was working on just his own body power at the moment. He needed to be able to resupply, but soon he wouldn't have to do this crap anymore. He just had to shoulder through it, like when he was still a rookie. As for now, he needed to figure out where he was going to dump this shit. They didn't exactly have water treatment plants anymore. So there was no environmentally friendly way to do that. But hey, who the fuck cared about the environment anymore right? He probably wouldn't take it there even if there was. He had a suspicion that they would charge him to take care of this load of shit he had riding in the back.

"Oh I know! I will just dump it in to the ocean. Drive the truck off a pier and make it someone else's problem. Plus it will get me cleaned up. Clyde old buddy you are a genius! You are too good for this world."

He said to himself a bit to excitedly. Turning the truck to the West he began to he'd for the coast. He had a general idea of where some of the major powers were, so he knew he didn't want to head in to the South West. That was pretty dangerous for someone on their own. Especially since he wasn't under contract. So that meant either the Dragons or the Crows. And word on the street was that the Dragons were a bunch of violent psychopaths. So that meant the Crow's territory.

It took a while of driving to get there but when he got close to the coast he gunned the truck forward, making sure that his seat belt was unbuckled. Diving out of the side of side of the truck as it flew of some random pier. One that probably wasn't made to hold a truck of that weight, but hey, not his problem.

His body slammed in to the cold water and it began to fill up his helmet as he was submerged, the weight of his gear making it harder to stay afloat. And as water filled up in his helmet it would get harder to breath. Struggling and forcing himself upward he broke the surface and reached up to unseal the breathing apparatus of his helmet to allow the water to pour out as he began swimming to shore.

Each swelling of the waves putting more water in to his helmet before it started to drain forced him to take precious gulps of air while he could. He didn't have time to fiddle with the helmet though while swimming. Not if he wanted to stay afloat.

He made it to shore with the crashing of a wave and coughed up water while on his hands and knees, staring at the sand and watching the stream of shit colored water drain from his helmet. He took long gasping gulps of air, he hated large bodies of water like that. He wasn't used to them, but it was the most efficient way to dispose of the cargo. Speaking of which, he looked back and to his delight the truck seemed to be fully submerged in the water. It was the perfect crime, and no one would be the wiser. At least he hoped. Because who cared. All that was left now was for him to make his way home. Picking himself up and brushing himself off he began to head East toward home.


Job word count: 2,300

[Abram Dabra]

"Johnny is a good kid. Always has been, he never caused no one no trouble. He was hard working and honest. He was the best son a man could ask for. He was a giver. Never a thought for his own safety or well being. He just wanted to help people. Always going on about the importance of community and rebuilding."

The older man wiped his arm over his nose sniffling loudly as tears threatened to stream down his weathered face. Tiny wisps of snow white hair stood out along his head giving the distinct impression of bed head. Though Clyde suspected that the man hadn't slept in over two days. Or if he had it would have been fitful and broken. He looked run down and beaten.

He supposed he could understand since he lost his son from the sounds of the story so far. But honestly the kid sounded like a real knob job. He never trusted people that went on about helping others for no reason other than it was the right thing. In his experience people that did that were hiding something, and it was never good. No one was that nice that often for nothing. And the people that may have been legitimately that nice died a long time ago. It was a whole new world, and if you showed that kind of weakness then you were just asking to be torn to shreds.

"He sounds like he was a real idiot."

He said as he rolled his eyes. His face hidden by the mask. The man's eyes widened as if Clyde had just struck him, his mouth moved trying to form words, but shock or rage stopped sound from escaping his dried old lips. Clyde just held up a hand.

"Don't get me wrong, he was your kid and you gotta do what you gotta do for him. I get that. But from what you are telling me this guy walked in to Barker controlled territory alone, without any weapons or means to defend himself. And for what? To chase after some brat that went where they were not supposed to? Sounds to me like the kid's parents should have kept a better watch on their snot nosed brat and this issue would be moot."

But it wasn't, and this guys son was missing. Was he being insensitive? Probably, well definitely. But he didn't give a rats ass. It's not like this dill hole was going to be taking a hike through Sean Barker's territory to look for his son. He wouldn't make it back, that was for sure. No, that's why Clyde was here. To do what this man didn't want to do, or couldn't do in this case.

Not that the man seemed to care. Clyde had just insulted his son! Who may or may not be dead. He was quivering with rage at this point and Clyde saw his eyes dart to a knife on the table. Clyde's brows furrowed, but he didn't move. He was trying to paint the picture of being completely comfortable and unworried. Even if he was a little worried.

"You fucking piece of shit. That's my son you are talking about! You don't fucking talk about things you don't know anything about!"

Yup, he struck a nerve. How lovely. Damage control.

"Look Grandpa. I didn't mean to cause offense." He kind of did actually, the guy's kid sounded like a real fuck wad. "I'm just saying that wandering in to hostile territory unarmed is not the smartest choice he could have made. But hey, we all do dumb shit. Like I'm going to take this job."

Which really was stupidly risky. He knew it, he didn't have enough equipment to really feel comfortable doing this job. But he needed the money and this man was desperate. Almost as desperate as he was. And desperation meant he was willing to pay for it. He could probably squeeze a couple of hundred out of the old wind bag. And for what? Bringing back the kid alive, if he was still alive.

Which he probably wasn't.

Or he could bring back proof that he was dead. He figured the kid's wallet and picture would do. He assumed the Father wouldn't appreciate him bringing back an ear or something. Still, he thought it was best to ask about what he would want him to bring back. Just in case he had a preference. The job in his mind was more of an item fetch job than a rescue mission, because from what he had heard about the Barker troops that patrolled in this area they really did not play nice.

"You will? You will bring back my boy?"

The man's anger seemed to fade as hope shifted back as the dominant emotion in his eyes.

"Thank you, thank you! You don't know what this means. He is all I have left in the world. After his Mother died in the bombings. It's just been us. Thank you!"

The man clasped his hands in front of him as he dropped down to his knees. Clyde wasn't sure if the man was thinking him or thanking God. Again, not that it mattered much to him. He wasn't doing this for the thanks, he was doing this because he needed to get paid.

"Don't thank me yet Old Man. I need to know what you want me to bring back in case he didn't make it. And remember, I'm not a fucking charity. You're paying up whether or not he is alive. I will not have my livelihood held hostage by some brainwashed loser soldiers."

Not the most tactful way to put it, but he thought it got the point across. And that was what mattered, he wasn't being paid to be nice and spare his feelings. The man's face fell again but he slowly nodded. If reluctantly. He seemed to be afraid of pissing Clyde off. That if he did he might just say fuck the job and leave. Well good, that was a good attitude to have, it gave him more power in negotiations. More clients should be afraid that he will decide to not do the job. It would make his whole life so much easier to be in more demand that he was and to be able to be picky. It was a luxury he couldn't afford however. Not now at least.

"You're right. Of course. In case the worst happened."

His voice was dulled as he spoke and the old man looked down as he thought about what could be brought back to show what happened to his son. The only person he had left in the world. It was almost enough to make Clyde feel bad for the poor bastard. Almost.

"He has a cross around his neck. A necklace that his mother gave him when he turned twelve. If you could at least bring that back I could have a piece of both of them."

It would probably kill the man. It sounded like it would, but that just wasn't his problem and he just couldn't bring himself to care that much. The wasteland was full of sad stories like his, and the desert that he came from had been equally as tragic. You couldn't let yourself get suckered in by every sap with a sad story. All you could do was keep walking forward.

"Understood. I will bring your son or the crucifix back. I give you my word as a professional."

Clyde lifted himself off of his ass and gave the man a salute before leaving him alone to his sad and depressing thoughts. Maybe the guy would get lucky, who knew. Sometimes people were blessed with simple dumb luck. Who was he to judge?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Barker territory was as one could expect, a shit hole. A lot of ruined buildings all over the place, and he didn't see anyone as he traversed the broken and crumbling streets. It was certainly a blessing if he was going to be honest with himself. Still, just because it was empty now didn't mean that he could let his guard drop. That was a sure way to wind up dead.

He kept to the sides of buildings and shadows as much as he could. Keeping low and being short did wonders for hiding when needed. And by not walking down the middle of the street like a jackass he would hopefully avoid any spotters or snipers. And yeah, he knew sniper rifles wouldn't work, but a long bows would. And he has already seen more than one freak with super powers in his day. He didn't need to be electrocuted by electricity or have a spike of ice impale his heart. No thank you, he would much rather live and collect his money and then get a big pair of titties shoved in his face.

He remained unmolested through Barker territory for probably the first twenty minutes. That was a good sign he supposed. Barker had a lot of men, but not so much that he could have people stationed at every corner. He probably used check points near his bases and on main roads, with patrols going along random paths through the city. It would keep the patrols from being to predictable while the check points remained constant threats. It is what he would do if he was Barker.

It still left gaps for tricky little people like him to exploit of course, but shot of walling off the whole territory and having men at every corner above and below ground, there was no way to patch up every hole in security. If someone was clever enough and determined enough there would always be a way.

However good fortune wouldn't last forever and eventually while ducking down one of the side streets he heard the sound of feet marching on uneven concrete. Ducking back down an alleyway he crouched behind a large pile of rubble. Doing his best to flatten himself against the rubble he flipped his cloak up over his helmet to hide most of it and prevent sunlight from glaring on it and making him easier to spot. But he kept enough of it uncovered to try and watch the patrol.

Five men and something... on a leash. It appeared to be humanoid, but it was wrong. He couldn't see eyes and it's thick leathery looking hide was discolored in multiple areas. It was muscular and misshapen. Like someone had injected muscles in to it instead of letting them develop naturally. Clyde couldn't take his eyes off of the thing, watching as it's head rolled about seemingly at random. It's head stopped facing the direction that he was in and looked right at him. Well, looked wasn't the right word, because with it staring right at him he saw that the beast had no eyes.

He forgot to breath and just froze. It was honestly the most horrific thing he had seen in his life. He had never encountered anything like this. The worst he faced in the desert were a couple of freaks that were to tough for their own good. But this thing, he didn't know if it was even human. Or if it even used to be human. It felt like hours passed in the time that it took for the creatures head to roll to the other side again and the patrol to keep moving. His heart resumed beating and he let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. He watched as the patrol passed, his body trembling. He didn't know if the thing saw him or not, he supposed not since they kept moving. But it felt like it was looking through him.

"Jesus Christ what was that thing. I don't like this, I need to find numb nuts and get my ass out of here."

He hissed quietly to himself. He couldn't just go back though, not without completing the job. It wasn't even an option on the table to consider. But how the hell was he going to find this stupid kid here? And what if one of those... things got him? Questions that he didn't have the answer to. However, he would find a way. He was a mercenary and a professional. He signed a contract and he would complete his objective. That was his way, and that was the only option.

He peeled himself away from the rubble and pushed back his cloak. Looking around the alleyway that he found himself in he needed to find another option. Not only because running from one side street to the other would take forever to find his target. But also because if he was deep enough to start running in to patrols then he didn't want to be on the street.

Not that being off the street will be much better. They probably have snipers. But it would allow me to get a better lay of the land. However the sewers are probably a lot safer, but the odds of finding my target in the sewers are pretty dismal.

It came down to if he needed safer travel at the moment, or if he needed information. Sadly the answer was obvious, safe travel did diddly squat for him if he didn't have his objective because he sure as hell wasn't planning on squatting in these lands longer than he needed to.

The alleyway only offered one alternative option, and that was going up the fire escape. However it was old and rusted, parts of it were missing. He couldn't use it to get all of the way to the roof. Which just pissed him off more.

"Stupid fucking pudding gang stealing my winch. I oughta go back to Arizona and shove a fucking electric eel up their asses. Freaking dessert loving freaks."

He grumbled bitterly. Poking his head out of the alleyway he took another gander to make sure the patrol was clear before climbing on top of the rubble pile that he hid behind. Taking a deep breath he tried to gauge the distance between him and the ladder to the fire escape, that someone had left locked in a mostly up position. Sometimes he hated being short.

"Alright Punk, you can do this. Just jump."

Swinging his arms three times he mentally braced himself before leaping off of the rubble, falling almost short of his goal as his hands barely clasped the bottom rung of the ladder to the fire escape. His arms jerked painfully in their sockets but his grip held.

"Grreaaahhhg."

He pulled himself up the ladder. Which was annoying for the first few rungs until he was able to get a foot in. From there it was simple enough to get on to the first platform. He began to climb up to the next level as the fire escape shook under his weight. A testament to how fragile and rusted out it was, because he was not a heavy man. His pace quickened as he rose up each level, the escape threatening to pull itself off of the wall, which it did by the time he reached the fourth level.

A loud creak and a snap echoed out, deafeningly loud to him because he desired silence. The fire escape tilted as it began to pull away. Gripping the rail he tried to keep from falling off as he climbed on top of the rail leaped from it to the end of the other wall as it fell. Half of his body hooking into a window that had thankfully been missing it's glass. Groaning he pulled himself into the building and collapsed on to the ground. His hand moving to his stomach to feel it. God it hurt, but there was no blood.

"The things I do for money. Sweet, sweet money."

Rolling over on to his stomach he picked himself up and looked around the building that he found himself in. Wishing for just one brief moment that he would randomly stumble in to the kid that he was supposed to find here hiding out. Coincidences like that happened all of the time in fiction. Sadly this wasn't fiction and he just wasn't that lucky. Never had been, if he was he would be back in Arizona and running his titty amusement park already.

The room looked like a cleaned out living room. Some broken furniture was pushed against the far wall, and dust covered everything. His guess was the place used to house squatters but they probably got cleared out months ago, if not longer.

"Whatever, not my problem."

Moving out of the room he headed for the door out of the apartment, opening it a crack and peeking outside. No guards in the hall, that was good. Opening the door wider he began to trek up to the roof from the inside. Chuckling to himself over his luck.

"Well this is great, they will know someone was here, but since I didn't use the door to this building which is all boarded up they won't know where I went. They will probably conduct extra searches along the street level, but I bet those numb nuts won't think to look up."

He laughed a bit louder before opening the door to the roof. Shielding his eyes from the sun he looked up. It was probably late afternoon at this point, and clouds were starting to gather. He doubted it would rain, but overcast was nice. It would cut down on glare, but it also meant he would have less daylight to find this kid. And without night vision that presented it's own problems. He already knew he wouldn't be searching for the brat come nightfall, he had a feeling that was suicide without any gear. So he would be able to look for a couple of hours and then he would need to find a safe place to set up camp for the night. Somewhere out of the way of patrols. Probably in a building somewhere.

A fire would be out of the question though, that's how squatters get spotted. Casting light and shadows. And a fire would be able to be spotted from quite a ways away in the dark night of the city. Especially by people that are actually looking for intruders or anything out of the ordinary. He didn't know this Barker guy, but he didn't get to where he was today by being careless, and he wasn't going to expect Barker's men to be careless. It was always better to assume and plan for your enemy to be better prepared then they are. There was no such thing as being over prepared, he would take having contingency plans in place that never get used to being busted and killed any day of the year.

Casting a look around for something he could use here, once again wishing to high heavens that he had his God damned winch. But wishing didn't do jack shit. He did find several boards that he could use to make a bridge across the roof, but they were pretty thin and rotted out. He wasn't sure on how stable they would be. And he found some long pieces of PVC piping. It was possible that he could use that to pole vault across.

"Hmmm."

He weight his options and picked up the board, moving it a bit and feeling it crack under it's own weight. It was far to rotted to be of any use to him. It could probably burn well enough, but that was irrelevant. Looked like he was going to have to pole vault.

"Ugh."

It didn't feel like a good idea, but staying here was an equally dumb idea and wouldn't get him any closer to his pay day. Hefting the pipe in his hands he adjusted his grip and jammed it in to the ground. Trying it out a few times to get an idea for how the pipe would bend and how much give it had. Not a lot, but it would have to do. Moving to the far side of the building he took a few deep breaths to try and calm his nerves. His heart was fluttering horribly. And if his hands were not gloved then they would be a sweaty and slippery mess.

"Alright, here goes nothing."

He ran forward for the edge of the building.

Do it for the money. Do it for the money. Do it for the money. Do it for the money. Do it for the money. Do it for the money. Do it for the money. Do it for the money.

He slammed the pole in to the edge of he building, right in the crevice of the ledge, he was gripping at the top of the pole and he leaped. Sure enough the pole bent and he went flying across the gap in the buildings. Crashing in to the roof with a thud and a roll, the pole clattered along the roof and his head felt like a ton of rocks were rolling along inside it as he slammed it against the rooftop, thankfully the helmet offered him some protection from the damage that would have caused. He needed his brain, it was his only really valuable asset.

Getting up once more he brought his hands up to his helmet and readjusted it as he moved to the edge of the building and looked down at the streets below. No sign of a patrol on this block, and no sign of his target. At least he didn't see a body among the rubble. Which meant that he was going to have to keep looking. Probably jumping from building to building and checking ledges. At least until he had to cross a street or something. Then things would likely get a bit trickier. He would cross that bridge when he got to it though, but it probably wouldn't be a bridge. He was thinking something along the lines of zip lining across. Because that would be bad ass and fun, and keep him out of the patrol paths.

He repeated his process of vaulting from building to building, peeking down alleyways and in to rubble looking for something displaced more than it should be. Anything to give him an idea of where the kid could be. He even pulled out the picture the old man gave him, just to make sure the kid's face was burned fresh in to his mind. He didn't want to find the wrong kid and lose out on his paycheck.

Eventually Clyde determined that the kid wasn't on this block, at least this side of it. And he was going to have to cross the street and hit the next block of buildings. Working his way to the tallest building he could on this side of the street by going in through the windows and climbing to the roof once more he wound the large cables that connected this building to the power lines and to the next building. He began to take off his cloak when he saw movement down below. Dropping down on to the roof he crawled closer to the edge and saw another patrol making it's way across the streets. Possibly the same one from before. He was to far away to tell for certain. But it seemed to have the same makeup, and another one of those freaks.

And this time it went down in to the alleyway where the fire escape had been destroyed. It was out of sight from where he was, but he didn't need to see it. He heard what happened next. A blood curdling shriek. It startled him and he backed away from the edge. An almost primal instinct taking over for a second. The scream sounded like death. His death. Throaty and shrill at the same time it echoed not just through the city but through his very soul. He didn't even have the presence of mind to chuckle at the thought of still having a soul. He just wanted to curl in to a ball and cry. There was only a small pocket of his mind that was trying to regain control of the terror that was gripping him.

Clyde. Clyde. Clyde. Clyde! Clyde! Now listen to me you worthless piece of reheated shit. If you don't get your ass moving then you are going to die in this hell hole. Is that what you want? No? Then get your fucking pale ass moving you dumb fuck!

Trembling he nodded to himself and picked himself up and gripped both ends of his cloak and rolled it so that it was tight. Like when they used to snap towels at each other's hairy asses back in gym. Hooking it over the power lines, making sure it was over a few of them to distribute his weight and not snap them he jumped off of the roof and zip lined across the street. Making it to the next building with another thud and a roll. The patrol was out, and they would be searching the area looking for signs of him. He doubted they would find any, other than the fire escape but he wanted to put some distance between him and them just to be on the safe side. Hooking the cloak back on he moved to the edge of the roof and found the fire escape. Praying to the giant voluptuous tatas in the sky that this one was more stable than the last he hopped down and vaulted himself down the rails to the next level over and over until he found himself back on the ground.

From there he would dart between side streets and alleyways in random directions. He didn't have a target location in mind, so there was nowhere logical hat he would head. He was just looking for something that seemed like it might be safe. He found it several blocks away. Another building, it looked like it used to be a motel or something. Good enough for him. Making his way to the second floor of the building he started testing the rooms until he found one door that had the lock broken.

Fucking bingo bitches.

Sliding in he shut the door behind him and pressed his back in to it. His right hand moved over his heart as he tried to catch his breath. It felt like his heart was trying to pound it's way out of his chest, and so far it seemed to be doing a damn good job of it.

The room itself was a mess. It was ransacked and the mattress was dirty and old. Someone had sliced in to it with a blade from the looks of it. Probably used it to stash something once. Papers littered the floor, and a desk was tipped over. Not that he needed a desk for anything other than a barricade. He shoved the desk against the door. Something that took more effort than he really wanted to admit. It was heavy and he was a small guy. But he managed it.

"Phew. Time for another break."

He said to himself as he fell back on to the ripped up mattress. Allowing himself a moment to lay down and just collect himself. He was sore, and exhausted and no closer to finding that kid. He hoped that this place would be a good camp for the night. But as the sun was quickly dropping over the horizon and the clouds he didn't really have the luxury of trying to find himself a five star hotel. And he was pretty sure if there was one here the service would not only suck but be ruthlessly creepy. So he would make camp here and then he would take off just before dawn.

He wasn't sure how he was going to find the kid. Because this plan so far wasn't working. Any doubts about him being dead or alive were dispelled though with that blood chilling shriek the creature let out. There was no way that kid was alive, there was no way that he had stayed hidden this long. So the question was if he died, what then? His guess was some kind of mass grave. Because a cremation would produce a lot of smoke, and it would take hours for each body. It would be a waste of time for Barker and them to do that.

Throwing them in to the ocean would work, but currently he was miles away from the coast. So a mass grave made the most sense. You just throw bodies in until it's full and then bury it and dig another one. No muss and no fuss.

"But how do I find the mass grave they are currently using without being caught and killed myself?"

That was the question to ask himself tonight. He could keep poking around randomly until he found it, but that could take forever, and he might get spotted. As much as the idea chilled him to his very core it felt like he was probably going to have to follow a patrol. But to do so he would need to stay far enough back to not be caught by them. Especially by that freak on a leash. He didn't even know what it was, but it scared the living hell out of him.

"Fucking old man better pay up. That's all I am saying."

He said as he took off his helmet and set it to the side, laying down to sleep. He was going to need to be at his best tomorrow if he didn't want to end up inside of one of those damn things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


His sleep was fitful and shitty. He probably didn't get more than an hour of sleep before he woke up tossing and turning and trying to fall asleep again. Each time he had dreams about that thing finding him and ripping him apart. Or that shrill scream of his. In one dream he was the thing, and he was leashed up. That one was the worst. He wanted to kill it, to put it out of it's misery and to make himself feel better. But he really didn't want to fight it.

Rolling out of bed he wiped the drool from his mouth and the crust from his eyes and pulled out some rations from one of his vest pockets. They were crushed from being slept on, but they tasted the same. Meaning they tasted like dried shit. But it was food, and it gave him the protean he needed. He just wished it didn't taste like stale cardboard.

"Time to fucking rise and shine."

He said yawning to himself as he put his helmet on, and snapped it back in to place. He spent a few minutes stretching and limbering up. He was expecting a lot of running, and jumping, and hiding today. He didn't want to move the desk again, so instead he popped himself out of the back window. Just popping the glass out of it's slider and leaving the window wide open. Just in case he needed to come back in a hurry he could do that. Climbing out of the window he closed the blinds and would be on his way. He needed to find a patrol, as crazy as that was.

Once more he made it to the streets and kept himself to side streets as much as he could. Hugging shadows and keeping to piles of rubble. Trying to keep as small as he could he began to hunt the patrols that were likely still hunting for him. Or more accurately they were hunting whoever destroyed that fire escape and made a ruckus. He hadn't been seen yet, at least as far as he knew. And he would like to keep it that way.

It was actually surprisingly hard to find this patrol, it was possible they were in another area? Well good, it would give him the chance to get to the high ground again. He retraced his steps to the good fire escape, and made his way up that one. Being careful this time. He didn't want a repeat of yesterday and to trash another fire escape. That would just be shitty. And luck was with him, it wasn't guarded. It might have been far enough away that they didn't think of it. Besides, there were other fire escapes too, he just knew that this one was good because he used it to get down.

He made it to the roofs once more and peered over the edge just in time to catch a glimpse of movement on one of the main roads. It looked like a young man. Not his guy, the hair color was wrong. This guy was a ginger, while his target was blonde. But the man was walking down the main road like an idiot! Clyde wanted to scream at him for being so stupid. But that would be even dumber! So instead he moved to get a closer look. And the man was beaten up pretty bad. He was bleeding, and his walking was wobbly.

If he had to make a guess the guy was probably banished from one of the gang territories and sent here to die. But that was just a guess, he didn't follow the politics too closely. Yet at least. He planned to get more of a lay for the political climate down the road. It would help on negotiating jobs and figuring out who might want or need his services the most. Turmoil was good for business after all.

This might be my ticket.

He could just follow this dude and wait for him to get picked up. Maybe help him get picked up sooner rather than later. After all the longer he stayed here in Barker territory the longer he was in danger and the less valuable his time was. He was not being paid by the hour.

Glancing around he found a small piece of rubble, something for later and he shoved it in to one of the pockets along his vest. It wouldn't be big enough to take down a guard in all likelihood. But it could make some noise if he needed it. With that secured he proceeded to follow the man from the rooftops. Waiting for him to run in to a patrol sooner rather than later, he was on the main road after all.

He got about five minutes further down the road before he spotted a patrol round the corner. But the man spotted them too and he dived for an alleyway looking for cover. Crouching closer to the edge he watched as they started to close in, but they hadn't seemed to have noticed the man yet. Frowning he reached in to his pocket and held the piece of rubble. Waiting until they had just passed the man hiding in the alleyway before throwing it at the pile of rubble that he hid behind. It made a sound of rock hitting rock and a few pieces of rubble fell with it.

Once more that terror inducing scream filled the air as the freak on a leash rolled it's head back toward the alleyway. The guards all turned and rushed toward the alleyway and the bloody man now without options chose to try to fight his way out instead of running.

It was brave, and Clyde could admit that. But it was also stupid. He had been counting on the guy being one of those warrior honor bound types. They never seemed to understand that sometimes the best move was to run from a fight. Well, for his stupidity he would get what he had coming, and Clyde didn't even have the decency to feel ashamed or bad for the guy that he had in essence just killed.

"It's his own bloody fault."

He mumbled to himself as he watched the fight. And to the guy's credit he put up a good one. He took down two of the men before the beast reached him. And it grabbed the man in his powerful arms before slamming his back in to it's knee. Clyde could hear the sickening crack of his spine breaking from where he was on the roof. And maybe he did feel a little bad. But he quickly brushed it off again once more reaffirming that it was the guys own fault for being stupid. It was a dog eat world and now he could find what he needed, and as a bonus they would think they found the guy from last night. Namely him.

It wasn't survival of the fittest, it was survival of the smartest.

The body was dropped to the ground by the creature before one of the soldiers slammed their boot in to the man's neck. That was it, game over. And Clyde watched it all, there was no flinching away from it. It was the results of his actions, and he would not flinch away from his choices. In the end that is all he had, all anyone had. Their choices.

One of the men picked up the body and slung it over his shoulder as the patrol started to head back the way they came. It seemed that he was probably correct with his thinking. And he followed from above. Being wary about check points. He figured he had to be getting close to one soon. And he was right.

Another twenty minutes in to Barker territory, following that patrol he noticed a lot more men around in the streets. Barricades set up and even a few people on roofs like him.

"Shit!"

There went his easy stress free ride. He dropped low and made his way to the roof access door of the building he was in, creeping inside and making his way down a floor. Finding a room with a window that overlooked the next building he opened up the window and climbed out of the room to hope over to the next building. Gripping the windowsill with his fingers, barely able to hold on as he pulled himself up, placing a gloved hand against the glass to slide it up. He pulled himself up and into the building, panting as he did so. This was freaking stressful. He should have taken another shit fixing job. Those were boring, but at least they didn't make him age ten years from stress.

He crept his way up the stairs again to the roof access. Opening the door slowly to avoid it creaking as he peeked out. Looking at the guard that was overseeing the square below. He crept out of the building on to the roof, sneaking up behind the man. He was going to go for a silent take down. But just before he got in range the roof creaked.

"What the?"

The guard turned around and didn't seem to see anything at first. Until he looked down to see Clyde there. He opened his mouth to call out only to find Clyde's fist slamming in to his throat. The man gripped his neck as Clyde drove his knee in to his crotch. kicking his legs out from under him he dropped a knee in to his gut as he clamped a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet before punching him square in the face with his free hand. The man's head slammed against the roof and his eyes rolled back in to his head. He was out for now.

"Not my best, but it will do."

At least an alarm hadn't been raised. Dragging the man inside the building, not being at all careful with him as he pulled him down the stairs Clyde proceeded to strip him down to his boxers and use his clothing to tie and gag him. He would have used it as a disguise, but the guy was like six inches taller than him. It never would have worked. So this was the next best option for him.

Once he was satisfied that the guy was tied up well enough and wouldn't be going anywhere he made his way back to the roofs. Carefully making his way across the rooftops, trying his best to follow that patrol until he found it. A mass grave. A pit full of mangled bodies. Even from his distance on the rooftops he could smell the stench of rotting and bloated bodies. The man from the street was dumped in to the pit without ceremony and the patrol left. No one seemed to even notice the pit. It was like it wasn't even there. That was good and bad, it meant he might be able to get what he needed without to much hassle. But it was still out in the open, and that meant going down there was sure to get him spotted. He retreated away from the area. He would have to return later. After the found the guard he knocked out and swept the area. His best bet was going to be at night now that he had a target.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As night fell he crept his way back in to the area. Dropping low after getting past the first perimeter he dropped down to the street. He clung to the shadows like ink making his way closer and closer to the mass grave. Letting the patrols pass him by. And there were a lot more of them here, but thankfully these guys didn't have the freaks with them. That was a huge moral boost for him. He could handle normal soldiers. At least he felt like he could.

He just stayed in the shadows watching the pit for a while. Timing the times that patrols moved past it until he was sure that he had it down. He had about twenty minutes. Ghosting past a patrol he jumped in to the pit. The smell of rotting flesh was overpowering and he had to clench his jaw to keep from gagging. And he couldn't let himself dwell on it either. If he let himself picture and visualize what he was doing it was all over.

Digging through the bodies he looked for the boy that he was sent to find. He had to be here, there was no other place that he could think of to find this brat. Deeper in to the pit of bodies he dug until he found the boy. He looked just like he did in the picture. But he heard foot steps. He froze in the pile and played dead.

"Looks like we got another one. Carl doesn't think it's the guy that knocked him out earlier though. He said that guy was small. A kid."

Clyde heard the sound of two men laughing.

"Fucking Carl got beat up by a kid. How fucking embarrassing. Can you imagine?"

Another bout of laughter before he felt something slam in to him. A dead body. He cringed under the weight of the body but he didn't shift of push it off. That took iron will power as the irrational fear of them burying him in this pit with all of these dead assholes started to creep in to his brain. He counted out five minutes. Staying completely still, barely even daring to breathe as he waited. He needed to make sure they were gone before he left. Once he was sure that there was no one else around he grunted and shifted that body off of him before reaching in to the kid's shirt and grabbing the cross. Holding it up to his face to make sure it was the same one.

It was.

"Sucks to be you kid. But at least with this your Dad can get some closure. And I can get a nice fat payday."

He grinned. He was so close to being done with this and getting paid. Oh how sweet that would be. After all of the stress of the last two days he was ready for this to be done. To go back to base and sleep and gorge himself on water and food. More importantly, to be far away from this shit hole! He picked himself up and stood in the pit, hopping up to grab the ledge as he hoisted himself up. Shoving the crucifix in to one of his many pockets he started to make his way out of the compound. In and out like a ghost, that was the plan.

The plan just didn't work this time. A light shone down on him as men started shouting. Their words seemed to blur together as his heart leaped in to his throat. But he definitely caught the word intruder. Not good, and no way to talk his way out of this one. There was only one thing he could do, and that was run away like a little bitch!

He bolted as fast as he could for the perimeter with all of the guards. Not the best idea to be sure, but running deeper in to the complex wasn't going to help. He was going to have to try and bust through the main entrance before they could seal it off and try to lose them in the city somewhere.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!

He kept dashing as fast as his short legs could take him, rounding the corner and seeing the perimeter and the soldiers moving to try and intercept him! Dashing off to the side he jumped up, his right foot landing on top of a barrel full of water for the men on patrol. Kicking off the barrel he jumped over the men, their arms reaching up to grab him and just barely missing as he rotated in the air. Landing in a crouch for a half a second he pushed himself forward as he kept running.

A sickeningly terrified and shrill laugh escaping his lips as he kept running. But he wasn't alone, and those guys were not far behind him. He swerved down a side street and then back to the main street just thankful at this point that those fuckers didn't have guns or crossbows or some bullshit like that. If they had it would have been game over.

Quick and random turns down various alleyways and side streets was giving him a small lead. But he knew it wouldn't last for long and he was wearing himself out. Turning down another side street he saw his chance to get away. The sewers! Quickly rushing to the grate he bent down and pulled on it, and with a grunt of effort it budged and lifted up. He opened it wide enough for him to fit in before scrambling down and sliding the top shut over the sewer. Climbing down in to the dank tunnels he heard the footsteps rush over the street above him.

One of the men yelled that they thought they saw him take off to the right. They were going to try and cut him off. He let out a slow sigh of relief as he leaned his back against the dank wall of the sewers. It was pitch black down in the sewers, made worse by the fact that it was night time. Wishing for night vision goggles wasn't going to help him now, all he could really do was place a hand against the wall of the tunnel and start making his way North and out of the territory. He wouldn't take the sewers the whole way out. He would get horribly lost and who knew what he would find down here.

No, he would just go a little ways away and chill out before climbing up a random access ladder to return back to the surface. Once he was back above ground it was just going to be a matter of making his way back out of Barker controlled territory and to his client. He was unable to rescue his son, but he was at least able to complete his objective.

He reeked of death and shit, but he was alive and he had made it out of Barker territory. Slowly he trudged back to the house of his client. His coming announced with the dawn. It was almost blinding to his eyes which were struggling to stay awake. He needed sleep badly, but he would finish his mission first. Everything else was second to the mission. Standing in front of the door he knocked three times, loud and hard. He heard shuffling from inside and groaning like someone waking up from sleep. Sweet sweet sleep. But the door opened and the face of the old man, his client peeked out at him. At first he saw shock, then hope. The door opened wide and when the man saw that he was alone Clyde got to see what heartbreak really looked like. Up close and personal.

"Nono..."

The old man backed away like Clyde was death himself here to collect on his soul. And in a way it might not have been far off. Clyde stepped in to the clients house uninvited as the man continued to back away. Fearful of what his return meant.

"I have completed the contract. The primary mission objective had been terminated long before my contract was established. The secondary objective has been secured."

His eyes moved downward, but the expressionless mask did not move and just continued to stare at him. Uncaring and unflinching. No matter what Clyde may or may not feel the client needed to see him as impassive. As neutral. That was why he always wore the mask when dealing with his clients. It wasn't about Clyde, it was about the persona that he represented. He was an asset, he was not a friend. He was not an enemy.

His hand reached in to the vest and pulled out the small silver cross and set it on the table next to where the man stood. Once it was there he took a step back to allow the Father to examine the piece. To ensure that it was the right one. He took it in shaky hands as tears began to stream down his face. His body wracking with silent cries of pain as he clutched the cross tightly and placed it to his heart. Clyde watched in silence as the man mouthed his Son's name over and over, unable to make the sounds form.

The line between respect and annoyance was often times a thin line to walk. And with how tired Clyde was the line was atom thin now. He watched and let the man grieve for a few moments in silence, but just like at a funeral when you had to pay the caterers so too did he need to pay the messenger that broke his heart.

"I am truly sorry for your loss Sir. And I know how hard this must be for you, but we need to finish our transaction."

He did know how hard it was for the man. This wasn't the first time he had given someone bad news, and his own family had died at the hands of this cruel world. He knew what the man was going through, he just didn't give a rat's ass. All he wanted was his money so he could leave this man to his misery.

"Of course..."

The man said sullenly, defeated. His shoulders slumped but he kept the cross clutched in his hand as he made his way to the back room. Clyde heard a bit of rustling and a few moments later the man was back and handing Clyde an envelope. Not being one to take the man at his word he opened the envelope and saw that inside there was indeed money. Thumbing through it and giving a quick mental count everything appeared to be in order. The envelope would find itself placed in to it's new home. Folded up and placed in to an inside breast pocket on the vest. Zipped up of course to ensure that it didn't fall out.

Clyde offered the man a small bow out of respect as he took a step back.

"Thank you for your business. I regret that I was not able to give you the news you hoped for today. I wish you all of the best Sir. Goodbye."

There was nothing he could say to make this right. So he wouldn't try. So he would leave.


((OOC: Word count of IC post 9001))

[Abram Dabra]

"Fucking Dragons."

He sighed heavily, his hands pressing in to his legs as he bent over trying to catch his breath. This was not turning out at all like he thought it would have. When he first heard that the Lightning Dragon wanted to meet with him and had a job he was expecting something a little more exciting. Perhaps some scouting in to Barker territory, or sabotaging a rival gangs defenses or something. Something with some glamour to it. What he didn't expect was to be digging holes around the whole fucking city and putting up poles!

The only real saving grace was that he wasn't expected to do the whole Dragon territory. He was apparently not the only one contracted with this work, which meant he wasn't getting paid as much true, but he was also not going to be at this until the end of time. Because it was taking forever!

Behind him was a large truck full of the poles and weird rocks that were attached to the top of the poles. Black and they made his hair stand on end. Like static electricity. He shook his head.

"Fucking creepy ass blind Dragon asshole. Didn't even give me a choice because showing up and not taking it would have been a freaking insult. Ugh. At least it will be good for business. He did say that if I did a good job the Dragons might have more work for me. But fuck, if it's more roadwork crap I might just have to pass."

Shaking his head again he straightened up.

"Shut up Clyde, a jobs a job, you want to be picky with what jobs you take then let these assholes know you are the best. And you do that by finishing the fucking job."

Mental pep talk concluded he made his way back to the truck and opened it up. Inside were dozens of poles. The rest of his quota for the day. Each pole twenty five feet long with those weird black stones on them. And they were to line them along the main streets of the territory no more than thirty feet apart.

"Alright guys, let's get this one finished up."

Yeah, he had guys too. Big tough looking guys. He was glad for the extra muscle considering how much labor this way, but he couldn't help but shake the feeling that he was also being watched. They made his fingers twitch, but at least he knew that he could make a quick get away if need be. He doubted any of these assholes could catch him once he took to the high ground. If it even came to that.

Several of the large men hopped in to the truck as Clyde took the base of the pole.

"Alright, on three. One. Two. Three!"

With a grunt they lifted up the pole and he walked backwards with the base at a quick pace. Quicker than he would have liked, he had short legs and there was a hole somewhere behind him that one of the guys had dug out. Glancing back he tried to keep an eye out for the hole.

"Easy. Easy. Alright, we are over the hole. Get ready to lift on three. One. Two. Three!"

And with another grunt they tilted the pole upward as Clyde guided it in to the hole. Pulling on it once it was in to make sure it came in straight. And there it was! Another one completed! Only like a bajillion to go.

I really don't see why he insisted on having me do this if he had the goon squad able to lift this shit. And they are bigger than me too.

He thought a little bit bitterly to himself. Such a waste of his talents. At least he was in charge of the team. It helped his pride but he could imagine that it bruised a few egos among the men there since he was an outsider. From what he gathered they had some freaky gay brotherhood thing going on. It was pretty weird if you asked him. Not that he was dumb enough to say it to their faces, but he didn't see how one of them wailing on you until you bleed would make you loyal.

I just don't get people I guess.

"Alright good work guys. Let's fill in this hole now!"

As the words left his mouth one of the guys was already wheeling over a wheelbarrow full of wet cement. Clyde grabbed one of the shovels and started to fill in the hole while some of the bigger guys held the pole straight. Because that was a very important part of the job. The poles needed to be straight. For aesthetics he imagined. Maybe they were trying to rebuild finally and make things look nice.

The shoveling took a bit longer now. He was slowing down, tired from busting his pale ass all day with this stupid job. He was more of a thinker with his jobs. This kind of steady back breaking honest labor was killer for him. And there were no real good short cuts to cut down on time and effort. It was just one of those jobs that he had to muscle through. He hated jobs like that.

"Alright, looks like this is gonna hold now."

He said after they held it a while. Letting the cement start to dry up. Just like the poles they had done before. Loading up the shovels and everything back in the truck he hopped in to the back, holding onto the handle on the outside of the truck as one of the Dragons started to drive off. Only another thirty meters until the truck stopped and they would have to do everything all over again. Sighing once more he looked up longingly at the sky.

Just think of the money.

((OOC: Word count 1000))