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Chapter Seven
Closer To Home
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“The Demon?”
Ren made a fervent hushing motion, dragging Race by the shoulder somewhat away from her very distracted news crew. “Yes. That’s what he was able to get out of them before the last one petered out. The driving into the tree seems to have been rigged by him as well.”
“Everything good, boss?” The boom operator asked, taking the cigarette out of his mouth for a brief moment before returning it. “You want to interview the fish guy too?”
“Shou, I told you not to smoke in here.” Race pressed the base of her wrist against her forehead. “Alright people, let’s call it. Nothing more we can get here, and with enough of a live broadcast that the other stations will be piggybacking off of us for a change. Let’s move out.”
Ren watched as she departed with her crew, the limited amount of customers still in the market returning ever so slowly to their usual pace as they meandered about the store. Ren turned back to the seafood counter, thin enough to walk normally through the small entry point and into the imminent conversation with Fred.
“Kohaku’s okay?” He immediately inquired, barely giving Ren the time to get his gloves back on.
“She should be, yeah.” He sighed, both regretting being that straight-forward about it and dreading what it might mean if she wasn’t. “What else?”
“Later.” Fred replied, turning back to the counter and grabbing a lobster from a crate, slipping it into a glass tank filled with others almost identical to itself. “We’ve got the rest of the day to get through first.”
Ren turned back to the crabs, fully distraught over what had occurred. The safest place he could possibly be is right there… With the side entrance locked, of course.
–
“What’s the point of it, then?”
Tone sat on the bench with his legs swung out, his arms over the back, visually about ready to die at any given moment, while the normally bombastic Kohaku sat with her knees impossibly close together, her elbows against her side. Neither of them looked at each other, instead both staring across the lake at the massive flock of ducks which combed the edges, looking for anything remotely edible.
And, of course, Tone was still wearing that ruined fish costume. Disgruntled or not, it still technically hid his identity.
“Him.” Tone responded, his eyes moving down to look at Corey, happily tearing pieces of bread and tossing it in the general direction of the ducks. “Wild thought it would be within our best interests if we expanded our organization whenever someone with capabilities to offer turned up.”
“And little Corey needed an awful lot of help, too.” He sighed, watching him with a weary air. “From his death onward, we’ve focused our efforts on not just flashy shows of power, but real, devastating blows to the infrastructure of the criminal empires making everyone’s lives worse. In the past, we’d return gestures of arrogance with humbling responses on the same scale; they’ve tried to hit at us before, but never to such an incredible and efficient extent.”
“What will you do now?” Kohaku asked, her voice unusually small.
“Right now, I…” Tone looked across the lake, the suddenly straightened. Jumping off the bench, he bolted down to the edge of the lake and dove, shoving Corey with all his strength into the water, causing the entire flock of ducks to panic and rise.
“WHAT WAS THAT FOR??” Corey coughed as he surfaced, spitting out water. “I WAS JUST-”
“Dive! Reeds!” Tone snapped urgently, getting off his stomach and scrambling towards Kohaku. “Run! Move! NOW!!”
Kohaku turned to run, but Tone grabbed her arm and yanked her the opposite way. “Not the car!! He’ll just take it out easier that way. We have the cover of the ducks, for the moment, but it won’t last.”
“What-” Kohaku was barely able to blurt out before Tone abruptly stopped, then broke into a sprint once more. “I just need to find where I saw…”
BANG
–
“Bleh.”
The wall was still white and boring. Just the same as it had been for the last nine hours. No matter how Rook tried to envision it differently, it still remained the exact same boring white wall.
…
“Bleh.”
–
Kohaku slowly opened her eyes, her mouth set in a scowl.
Despite her indisputable inexperience in the realm of avoiding professional hitmen, she was learning fast, and even flexing her intellectual mindgames at the same time. When the BANG echoed across the lake, she fell with the same timing as Tone’s static body, hitting the walk rather hard. She had a hunch, and now was the only time she could attempt to prove it.
The other people at the pond had begun to flee in all directions after the gunshot. Screaming at random intervals also appeared to be a favorite pastime. Before too long, it was relatively quiet once again.
Her thoughts didn’t stay put for long. What about Corey? Had the shot been directed at him instead? Was he now dead, floating on the surface of the water? Were the reeds not sufficient for him to hide in?
This destructive train of thought ended when a glint of light suddenly hit her eye, and she felt a costumed hand touch against her hair, as Tone ever so slightly pushed himself upwards.
“Gotcha.” He grinned, then stood up and dusted himself off. “Well, let’s get out of here.”
“But won’t he-?” Kohaku inquired, using Tone’s hand as leverage to rise. “I mean, he just took a shot at-”
“I’m sure.” Tone tried to slide his hands into his pockets, but the costume simply didn’t have any. “C’mon, Corey’s gonna be soaked.”
Sure enough, Corey was soaked, as once Tone had stood and peered at the water to determine which of the reeds was wobbling about uncontrollably and making gasping noises, gave off a couple of tones in the reed itself to indicate the coast was clear. “I didn’t think I’d actually have to do that someday.” Corey complained, smacking the side of his head repeatedly in a vain attempt to clear his ears. “And if you say it’s-”
“-Because you never know if you need it, yes, that’s why you do need it.” Tone grinned. “Now wring yourself out; we’ve gotta get you a fresh set of clothes before you become ill and get even shorter somehow.”
“Thin ice, pal.” Corey grumbled as he climbed directly through a clump of weeds. “I thought your plan of going to the park seemed too easy.”
–
“BLEEEEEHH.”
This was getting excruciatingly boring. Absolutely nothing happened from day to day, week to week, month to month. It was almost utterly intolerable for poor Rook, and he would give just about anything to have some excitement going on for a change.
But, nothing would happen. Because the only way for something to happen would be for someone to come inside, and that would need the massive, four-inch-thick mechanical door to somehow open on its own, without the presence of a key - which it literally could not do.
Just as he pondered over this, however, the door clicked. Someone had just inserted the key, which could, of course, only logically mean one thing.
Finally, Rook thought. Ren’s come home.
–
Ren folded the bright orange rubber overalls over his hands, awkwardly trying to hide how much he was eyeing Fred, who was eyeing him right back. But Fred seemed to be much less hampered by awkward social situations, as he noticed the approach of the store owner far sooner than Ren managed to process.
“Sir?” Fred began, but he was waved off by the approaching gentleman, who dominated the room. “Go on home Fred, me and Ren will lock up.”
“Yes sir.” Fred grabbed up his things and glanced at Ren worriedly as he departed. Ren stared up into the black, beady eyes of his superior, as an uncomfortable silence dragged on and on.
Ren had no insecurity about his height, but the presence of Mr. Oisim Makuei was a concerning one. The difference between his modest six-foot-one and the imposing six-foot-four figure of his superior really did feel like David and Goliath, the disparity making he feel much shorter than he actually was. Not to mention that, in spite of his features not bearing any sort of indication to it being his race, he bore heavy tribal-style tattoos across his bald head and perpetually-scowling face, leaving barely any skin uncovered.
“You’re getting sloppy.” He frowned, finally speaking after what felt like an hour of silent judgement.
Ren sighed, making himself break from his superior’s rather observant eye. “You’re right, sir. And I can’t afford to be sloppy now. We’ve got someone else under our care, another member of the masks.”
“You do his will in death; it is good.” He made a rather animalistic grunting noise which indicated his shifting of topics. “I have given you much in order to ensure the survival of his ideals. It is useful to know there is some good coming of it.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Ren replied, making no indication that he was anything other than tensed.
“I will lock up; you may go, wolf mask.” Oisin turned, walking off and staring with his well-developed hands in his pockets at the rest of the store, even as Ren slunk away towards the entrance in the hopes of finding a bus still operating at that hour.
“I wonder.” He continued to speak as he heard the doors close behind Ren. “Will it be enough?”
–
“ALL The stairs??”
“So this is what going up in an elevator feels like.” Corey pretended to gawk at the process, earning an even more guttural reaction out of Kohaku, who threw her hands towards him in disbelief as she stared in stark disbelief at Tone.
“He’s the boss. I don’t make the rules,” Tone replied with a shrug. “Even if those rules seem awfully arbitrary and silly, they’re still the rules and we still have to follow them. It’s nice to not have my legs feel like they’re burning off at every given second.”
“Is that because of the-” Corey began, but instantly clammed up when he realized he was running his mouth. “Sorry.” He retreated into the far corner of the elevator and looked about with injured eyes.
“So… Why are you riding the elevator now?” Kohaku raised an eyebrow.
“If you’re willing to keep it a secret.” Tone raised a finger to his mouth and gave a wink in reply. He couldn’t help but smile as he did; it helped to have someone with as blazing of a personality as Kohaku had to lessen the stress of the situation and give him something to bounce humor off of every now and then.
“Finally,” He glanced at the doors of the elevator as they opened. “Ladies and pond swimmers, allow me to introduce you to the greatest overly cramped apartment on earth.” He stepped out of the elevator, but suddenly jumped back inside, whacking Corey on the nose and nearly bowling him over.
“Take him back down.” Tone whispered.
“What? I don’t-”
“Take him back down, drive to Ren. Tell him to call me. Go.” Tone stepped out of the elevator once more, pressing the close doors button as he exited. They slowly responded, sealing Kohaku and Corey inside as they continued downwards.
“Well,” Kohaku awkwardly opened conversation,clapping her hand over her knuckles. “You’re gonna have to help me out here, kid. I have no idea how to get to the supermarket from here.”
“Don’t you have a GPS?”
“Oh right, duh.” She whipped out her phone and typed in the address. “So what’s it like in there, huh? In the apartment? Is it nice? Do you at least have separate rooms or whatever?”
“It’s fine.” Corey responded, slipping his hands into his pockets. It was clear that without Tone present, he was in no mood to enter into conversation, and the pair exited the building in silence. As they drove off, Tone waited in silence for another five minutes, considering his options.
Options. As if there was somehow more than one option available. It read like a trap, a big and blatant trap, set to blow the minute he walked inside. Was it men with guns lying in wait for him to enter? Was it a bomb of some kind, or a camera to catch their identities when they all came home? And why would they leave the door open for such a trap as well?
Ah, well. He adjusted his collar, quietly stepping forwards and through the open door. I’ve done stupider things today, it seems.
–
It was a nice wall.
Nice, white, and pure. Not a spot anywhere on it. That was the nice thing about that wall; it didn’t have any kind of mark.
It was a little hard to see at the moment, but the wall was surely just as clean as before. Just because the warped fingers and distorted faces wouldn’t let him have any other thoughts, it didn’t change the purity of the white, now did it? Of course not. It was still immaculate in spite of it all, the cries of agony etched into those wretched faces, the shrieks they uttered at the unholy pain they suffered, the faces, their faces…
The door had been left open. So as the elevator ascended, opened, and descended in turn, Rook could only look at the previously on guard and now aghast Tone and whisper out his reply.
“The walls are immaculate. They aren’t screaming to me,” Rook said, his pillow almost entirely hidden by the pile of well-dressed corpses. “They’re so quiet, Tone, so quiet, so very, very quiet…”
–
