In the Blister, gunfights were natural. Like rain or a dust storm. If police weren't called, police weren't coming. Both the citizens and officers of the Blister preferred that.
That didn't mean they'd never come. They did, and the Synth City Police Department didn't play soft in poorer, crime-ridden districts.
But between the rain, suppressed fire and the sound-dampening garage, SCPD wasn't gonna come any time soon.
A voice outside shouted with alarm:
"Jev! Vince! Rickard! You guys good in there?!"
Jerry heard the voice and carefully tiptoed around the corpses, picked Mohawk's SMG off the floor, then made his way to the door. He poked his head out, then readied his gun and took aim.
Prrra!
He fired a controlled spray outside until the magazine clicked empty, but Arthur could hear the roar of a motorbike as it drifted off.
Jerry cursed under his breath. "Argh. fruckin' rain. I missed."
That was bad.
Arthur couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. His body ached and he'd had too many close brushes with death to think about anything other than rest. He also felt a cruel, piercing hunger in his empty stomach, worse now that the adrenaline had worn off.
Steps came from behind.
Jerry readied his gun and Arthur looked for his, but his panic gradually disappeared once he saw who it was.
"Darlin'," Jerry lowered his gun and arrived by his daughter's side, checking for wounds. "You okay?"
"Fine." Sadie heaved for breaths, pale and sweaty. "Two of them out back. I got one but the other drove off, the coward fruck."
She had a slow gander at the garage. The bodies strewn about, the meat pancake, the metallic stench—not from the usual car parts, but from the pooling blood puddles—and hissing racecar.
"You gotta be kiddin' me…"
She winced, then gazed at Arthur, whose attention was fixed to the mohawked man's corpse.
"He okay?"
Jerry looked, then smiled at him. "He will be. Take care of his wounds, honey. I need to make some calls, a'right?" He tapped her back. "Attagirl."
***
He was bare from the navel up.
Arthur's physique was subject to scrutiny, even before his boxing days. His reach was long but his muscle was unappealing. His tall frame edged between skinny and lean, and his muscles weren't as defined as he'd liked them to be.
His right earlobe was a bloody mess.
Sadie had brought him to a small CCTV room within the confines of the chopshop.
There was only a small table, screens fixed on the corner wall which were switched off. He sat on a stool, a flickering bulb hanging from above buzzed on and off.
Sadie herself had an assembly of medicinal products and tools neatly laid across a table. She pulled out a pair of thin pliers. Tweezers, they resembled, but no nose hairs were that big.
She pulled closer to him and inspected the ear wound. Arthur could smell her perfume between the distinct whiff of petroleum—a peachy scent.
"Some fragments are lodged inside," she said with no particular emotion. "I'll pull it out, alright? Take a deep breath in."
Arthur tensed as she poked the tweezers in and yanked out a small, loose shrapnel of metal with a wet squelch. He groaned in pain. A thin spurt of blood followed as it exited.
She put the fragment on a tray. It clinked as it dropped.
"You did good," Sadie said with her back turned. "Dad'll take care of the bodies. He's got people for that kind of stuff."
Arthur said nothing. She spoke of the corpses like they were bags of grocery. People involved in crime often came in cheery, friendly forms, but beneath it all they were demons.
Arthur looked at his hand, washed but still faintly stained with dried blood. It was shaking, but only a little. Out of hunger than anything.
He felt sick inside, having slain two men. His mother would be disappointed. Perhaps disgusted. He missed her.
Sadie pulled out two wet wipes and slathered them with alcohol. She slowly rubbed away the blood from his ear and cleansed the wound. Arthur's jaw set as the sting pricked at him, but it was tolerable.
"If you're feeling guilty," Sadie said seriously, "then don't be."
She threw the stained wipes in a bin, and Arthur saw them as Jack Boy corpses tossed away.
"They came for you first." Sadie wiped her hands. "Think they'd offer you as much as an afterthought if they'd killed you? You know they won't."
She grabbed a roll of bandages, twirled out a good amount and rubbed it with alcohol, before gently wrapping his ear. Arthur put her as some sort of medic or field nurse. She had the swift movements and graceful fingers that befitted one, at least.
"That's how it goes. If you can remember any kill past the first, I'd consider you a saint."
The bullet took just a nibble, and though it would leave a lasting scar as a souvenir, the damage would eventually heal.
"We're done." Sadie began packing up the supplies, placing an unopened capsule in front of him the size of a fingernail. Blue and oval. "It's a Pivro Pill. It'll make you a smidge dizzy but you'll get some shuteye."
"I don't sleep." Arthur grabbed the pill anyway. Lord knows he needed rest.
She turned to look at him. He looked vulnerable. Weak. Eyes like the gateway to a corrosive, desperate soul lost in its path yet stubborn enough to persist.
Her gaze softened, but Arthur's remained the same.
He stood, grabbed his shirt and jacket and put them on. He gave Sadie a thankful nod.
"Thanks for the help."
She responded with a quaint tilt of her head.
"You're welcome. Dad's waitin' for you at the counter. Seeya 'round, Arthur."
Arthur left the room and made his way to the garage.
To his genuine surprise, the Vilero, the bloody stench, the bodies and even the bullet holes were all gone.
Sparkling clean, with a new shade of paint and cement applied on.
There was another presence in the room.
A thin, ghoulish-looking man with a black tophat on and a lavish gray vest with slick leather boots. He was old—gray eyes, folds of wrinkly skin and a long, pointy nose—and gave off an eerieness Arthur couldn't put his finger on.
Jerry shook hands with him. Long, pale, slender fingers wrapping around the black metal.
The old man turned. For a moment, Arthur met the man's gaze. The man smiled, sending a shiver down his spine.
He turned and left, leaving the garage in a black minivan with two burly men escorting him into the car. It swerved away a moment later.
Jerry came around with a big smile.
"I spoke with Snake. Gave her a run down of what happened. Kept the Vilero incident between ourselves. I'll have 'er up and runnin' in a few weeks, anyway. She's waiting for you back at Nino. I ordered you a Taksi and bumped it up to premium."
He put a hand on Arthur's shoulder and squeezed gently.
"I owe you one, kid. We'll be in touch."