cHApTEr 19. rusH Hour (1 of 3)

Dove Street, where Mioray was hiding, was supposed to be desolate. Yet he heard someone approaching his hideout. He held his breath and froze, trying not to make the slightest noise. Only Mia and Farah should have known he was hiding in the rubble cave, but he didn’t want to take chances, not in his miserable state. Mioray clenched and unclenched the fingers of his left hand. After some practice, he had somehow managed to put his shoulder back in place. The arm still felt stiff, but at least it obeyed him.

Hiding below the window frame, he waited and listened to the approaching footsteps.

A figure emerged above, crouching on the window frame. Mioray sighed in relief. He recognized the black hair and athletic build of the woman dressed in muted brown-green sportswear. He had never been this happy to see Mia.

Missed me? She touched her chin with her index finger, then pointed it toward her chest, eyebrows raised. Then she smiled, happy to see Mioray too.

“You can’t imagine how much,” Mioray chuckled. He pointed at his stumps. “As you can see, I’m not in the best shape right now.”

Mia twisted her lips from side to side.

We’ll figure something out, she signed. Let’s wait for Farah for now.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Mioray agreed. “Say, you don’t have any water on you, do you? It wouldn’t hurt to speed up my healing, because I’m all beat up.”

Mia smiled widely, clearly pleased with herself. She did have a water bottle attached to the back of her waist, which she took out and handed to Mioray. When they learned how water worked on the undead, Mia had started bringing a water bottle on her morning runs. The habit quickly extended beyond that.

Mioray reached for the bottle, but Mia suddenly frowned and spun around faster than a pinwheel. In that instant, blood burst from her right shoulder where her swan badge hung, leaving a bloody hole. Only then did the gunshot ring out. Mioray screamed, terrified that Mia had been shot dead. She did lose her balance and fell from the frame into the alcove, but when she landed, she rolled and pressed herself against the wall beside Mioray.

“Mia, are you alright?!” Mioray whispered anxiously.

She signed with both thumbs raised, moving both hands upward from her abdomen to her upper chest. Mioray wasn’t sure whether she was trying to make a joke, as the sign could be interpreted as survive or I’ll live. Then she continued:

I dropped the bottle.

“Something tells me that’s the least of our problems.” Mioray slowly lifted his head to look outside, only to be met with another gunshot. It grazed his cheek. He ducked again, chattering his teeth so hard he almost broke them. He didn’t see the shooter, but that didn’t stop whoever it was from keeping them in their sights.

Mia grabbed Mioray by the forearm and shook her head with an angry look. He figured she was scolding him for being careless, but he was too shaken to make excuses for himself. The idea of becoming prey in someone else’s game had not been on his bingo card for today.

In the meantime, Mia pressed three fingers together and pushed them into the hole in her shoulder. She felt around inside, widening it, until she pulled out the bullet, completely stained with blood. The bullet was elongated, its narrow end flattened from hitting the badge and then the bone. Mioray took it from Mia’s blood-covered fingers. It was heavier than a regular bullet too.

“It’s a sniper round!” he gasped. “But how… Mia, how did you sense it firing? A bullet from a sniper rifle flies faster than the speed of sound. They say you’re only safe if you hear the shot, because that means it has already passed you. And it’s not a headshot snipers usually go for, but a chest shot, because it gives them more target area and can cause severe blood loss. The bullet doesn’t really fly straight, it drops in a specific direction. Its path is more like a big arc, and the shooter has to factor in wind, humidity, air pressure, altitude, distance–”

Mioray stumbled when Mia slapped him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Hey, guys, are you listening?” Farah yelled through the earpiece. “What the hell is happening? I heard gunshots!”

“Farah, be careful!” Mioray warned her. “Don’t come to us, there’s a sniper somewhere on the street. He shot Mia in the shoulder, but she’s fine!”

“What the… a fucking sniper?!”

“It must be Jean,” Mioray shivered when he heard Amika’s voice. “Good luck, kids. Once he marks his territory, it’s impossible to escape him.”

Mioray hit the back of his head against the wall. Jean. Of course it was that man. It made total sense. In all the chaos, Mioray had completely forgotten about him. The quiet gunman hadn’t said a word during the competition, acting like he was minding his own business, but he was part of Lokiel’s team after all. So what, that was the plan all along? First they got rid of Matt, and now they wanted to finish off the rest? Or was this just a scare tactic, meant to keep the opposing team cornered while they increased their score?

“Team Lokiel faces their own difficulties as more Soul Collectives have manifested in the crater!” Niles reported in his announcer tone. “But they dealt with one already and added three more points to their score!”

“More Soul Collectives?!” Farah yelled.

“Relax, just five of them, all small fries. Nothing we can’t handle,” Amika drawled. “You’d better worry about yourself.”

As pitiful as it was, she was right. Mioray grabbed a small slab of concrete and threw it outside through the window frame. The slab didn’t even make it out. It fell apart, the dust showering over Mioray and Mia, while the sharp crack told them a bullet had struck it. Jean had them at his mercy. If they tried to leave cover, he would hit them at that exact moment.

The phone vibrating startled them. Mioray took it out, surprised to see Farah calling him.

“Yes?” he asked, confused.

“Oh, give me a break, it’s obvious that if we speak through the walkie-talkies, he’ll listen to us. Look, I’m not far from where you are, hiding at the corner of the intersection with Dove Street. I can see Jean on the roof of the building opposite you. He’s watching that hole where you two are hiding.”

Mia waved at Mioray and started signing. He nodded.

“Mia thinks Jean is toying with us,” he relayed to Farah. “If he wanted to finish us quickly, he only had to wait until all three of us were together and kill us in one go. Instead, he revealed himself when Mia arrived, which let us stay separated, and on top of that, he didn’t shoot either of us dead. It’s like he did it on purpose, like he wants a challenge.”

“Well, I’d say that’s going to be his mistake! He shouldn’t have underestimated us.”

Mioray would have argued with that, but it wouldn’t have been productive. From where he stood, it seemed like there wasn’t much they could do to counter Jean. The man had a good vantage point over the street, and Mioray couldn’t think of anything that would let them escape their hideout without getting shot.

“Is there a way for you to get to him without him noticing?” he asked Farah.

“Nah. He chose a good location. The entrance to the building he’s on is on Dove Street. If I tried to get there, he’d notice me in an instant and shoot me. And even if I managed to get inside, he’d have an easy way to escape and relocate. I’m sure he made note of some extra spots to retreat to.”

I agree, we need to reach him quickly if we want to stand a chance, Mia signed.

Mioray shrugged. He understood that too, but it didn’t help in any way. The only one who could make the first move was Farah, but as she said herself, stepping into Jean’s line of sight wouldn’t exactly help. How were they supposed to get onto the roof in a matter of seconds without giving Jean time to shoot them or change position?

“That’s where your stretching abilities come in, Dismantle Corpse,” Farah said after Mioray voiced his concerns. “I’ll get his attention and force him to take a shot at me. While he’s getting ready for the next one, you jump at him.”

“I’m honored that you recognize my abilities, Farah, but I hate to break it to you that I can’t extend my arms more than fifteen meters, and that isn’t enough to reach the roof in one go. He’ll be ready to shoot me before I get to him.”

Aren’t you forgetting something? Mia signed after waving at Mioray again.

“What?”

I can launch us upward quickly with my voice, Mia signed. Then you’ll just have to reach for him.

“What is Mia saying?” Farah asked impatiently from the other end.

“Umm…” Mioray didn’t like the sound of it. “She’s proposing to launch both of us upward with her voice, so the distance would be short enough for me to reach Jean…”

“Great! Then let’s do it!”

“I don’t know…”

“What? It’s not like she’d be the first woman to carry your footless corpse. Yeah, I’ve heard all about it.”

Mioray felt like he was suffocating. His worst fear had come true. Farah had found out about him being carried by Erinel after all. It was so embarrassing. Farah was definitely going to hold it over him forever and bring it up at the worst possible moment. Like now. He, in return, had nothing on her. It seemed like every day Farah gained a new advantage in her endless campaign to torment him.

He grabbed his head. So who told her? The most likely candidates were Kevin and Amika, but it could have been anyone. Lokiel was a safe bet too. The greanrip loved messing with anyone he came into contact with.

“Who told you that?!” Mioray almost cried, forgetting about the sniper waiting for the perfect moment to shoot him.

“Really, is that what matters right now?” Farah asked, though judging by her smug voice, she had gotten exactly the reaction she wanted. “Okay, let me know when you’re ready.”

There was no point in arguing when they outnumbered him two to one. Mioray widened his eyes in disbelief, then climbed onto Mia’s back and wrapped his arms around her neck. He did not expect anything good to come out of it, but if both women insisted, what else was there to do? He decided to leave it to them and focus on his own part, determined not to let them down.

“We’re ready,” Mioray said in a strangled voice, still wrestling with his embarrassment. “Just be careful. We can’t lose you too.”

“I’ll be fine,” Farah replied. She sounded relaxed, but there was tension underneath it. “Don’t wait for the gunshot. Once I end the call, I’ll give you three seconds to act. Don’t fuck up.”

She hung up. Mia patted Mioray on the arm, then put her hands on the window frame.

“One. Two. Three,” Mioray counted.

Here goes nothing.

Mia jumped straight through the frame. Mioray tightened his grip so he would not fall off by accident. That really would have been awkward. Just as Mia landed on the road outside the hideout, a gunshot echoed through the street. It wasn’t meant for them. In the couple of seconds Mia needed to reach the building where Jean was, Mioray turned his head, searching for Farah.

He spotted her not far away, lying on the road in what looked like a baby pose, on her side with her knees tucked up under her puffer coat and her arms wrapped around them. Looking more closely, she wasn’t just lying there, she was sliding. Mioray quickly understood Farah’s move. While they were on the phone, she had frozen the road to make it slippery, and when she left cover, she ducked and curled into a ball, sliding over the ice. Jean would not have had time to assess that. He saw movement and took the shot, expecting Farah to keep running. It was a bold move on her part. Mioray had to give her credit for that.

A determined scream filled the street as Mioray, clinging to Mia’s shoulders, felt a chilly wind licking at his face from below. They rose rapidly into the air, the windows in front of them flashing past in quick succession like a film strip, until the view broke open and revealed the roof and a lone man standing at its edge with a sniper rifle. The man looked startled, his teeth clenched. Mioray smirked. It was comforting to know they had managed to outsmart Jean after the trouble he had caused them.

The hesitation lasted only an instant before the gunman raised his sniper rifle and aimed at them. Mioray let go of Mia and launched both arms at Jean before he could pull the trigger. His left arm missed, landing behind the man, but his right hand caught the barrel of the rifle. Mioray wrenched it to the side, and that was when Jean fired.

The bullet flew off somewhere, scattering blood droplets. Mioray stubbornly kept hold of the barrel even though his hand was badly mangled. His middle and ring fingers were gone, and a massive chunk of his palm had been torn into a grotesque hole. But the hand still obeyed him, so he refused to let go. Instead, he retracted his left arm slightly, grabbed Jean’s leg, and then yanked himself toward the man, slamming into him. They both went down, and when Mioray steadied himself, he found that he was the one holding the sniper rifle.

“Careful with it,” Jean said quietly. He was already back on his feet some distance away from Mioray, now armed with a revolver. “That sniper rifle costs quite a fortune.”

It was not as if that meant anything to Mioray. He was not proficient with guns, and with his dominant hand injured like this, he could barely use the sniper rifle anyway. In a way, Jean still had the upper hand. Mioray glanced toward the street, but from where he was, he could see only the roof ledge and the orange sky. He could only hope Mia had landed without injuring herself.

“That was an impressive stunt,” Jean said as he took out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. Then he pulled a lighter from inside his sand-colored coat. “I was anticipating different possibilities, but not that one. Having abilities really changes the rules of the game.”

“Maybe we can end it here, then?” Mioray suggested. “Just say goodbye and go our separate ways?”

Jean only snorted. He lit the cigarette and exhaled a puff of smoke.

“I hate that I don’t really feel it anymore.” Jean spat the barely smoked cigarette onto the ground, then aimed his revolver at Mioray. “Sorry. I’ve got a contract to finish.”

“Yeah? And who’s your client?” Behind Jean, Farah emerged from the stairwell.

The man turned on the spot, his revolver now aimed at her. He was not hurrying to shoot. Was he stalling? Or did he think he held all the cards and could finish the job whenever he wanted?

“I’d be a poor contractor if I gave that away. Confidentiality and all.”

“Huh,” Farah drawled sarcastically. “That’s what you say, but it’s not exactly a big mystery, is it? Who else would profit from taking us down except Lokiel?”

And again, that devilish greanrip. Wherever Mioray went, Lokiel’s presence seemed to follow, terrorizing him and everyone else.

“As I said, miss, I don’t reveal information about my clients,” Jean said simply.

“So what are you?” Farah tilted her head to the side. “Some kind of hired assassin?”

“I was. Though I’m still active now, just under a different name, since the old one was erased with my death. Even when you’re dead, money is still a necessity.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Farah scoffed. “I thought I’d be free and independent when I became undead, but no. I still have to work and earn money, otherwise I’d be broke.”

Mioray couldn’t believe his ears. Were they really bonding right now? Over money, of all things? Not to mention that Farah was not being entirely honest. Thanks to Terry, they had access to his money, and most of the time, if they needed something, they used that. Farah did earn money, that was true, but mostly to buy herself an apartment in the future. In ten years or so, if she got lucky.

Mioray shook his head. None of that mattered right now.

“Where is Mia?” he asked.

“She’s fine,” Farah answered. “She’s going to look for that Soul Collective on the loose while we keep Jean busy.”

“Hmm, but I can’t have that,” Jean cocked the hammer of the revolver. “As much as I’d love to talk about money, I’m not getting paid for talking. Another time, maybe.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Farah unzipped her puffer coat and dropped it onto the ground. “It’s always nice to meet someone who understands the value of money.”

“Though I have to ask, why can’t you let us take care of the Soul Collective?” she added, faint steam leaving her mouth as the air around her turned colder. Mioray could feel it even from where he was.

Jean took a step back. He was self-assured, but still wary.

“As I mentioned, I don’t discuss the details of my contracts.”

“Interesting,” Farah arched her brows. “You could’ve just said you wanted to stop us from raising our score. Either you stay quiet even about obvious things, or there’s another reason we don’t know about.”

Farah jerked to the side at the exact moment Jean fired at her. His first shot missed, but he fired another right after. The second bullet was guaranteed to hit her. She threw her hands upward as if lifting something. A moment later, a jagged pillar of ice burst from the ground, nearly biting her hands off, but she pulled them away in time. The second bullet, then the third and fourth, all ended up lodged deep in the ice.

“You’re not the only one who has honed your skills over the past eight months, Mioray,” Farah stepped out from behind the ice pillar unharmed. She shifted her gaze to Jean. “Now let me show you what Heatsink Corpse is capable of.”

She lunged forward, crystalline snowflakes swirling lazily around her. Jean fired once more, but the bullet froze in midair, with a thin line of ice forming along its path all the way back to the barrel. The gunman jerked his hand, snapping the ice off the revolver. Then he dashed along the roof ledge, trying to keep a safe distance between himself and Farah.

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