Two detectives ventured onward, new garments in one hand, premium weaponry in the other. The folded cloth of the uniform felt to Eyes like nothing he’s ever experienced, a brand new luxury outfit fit for only the most notorious criminal to walk the wastes. He instinctively caressed the shirt and vest as he walked mindlessly forth aside his partner. The two knew better than to don the mark of a gang of cold killers in such a densely regulated IDPD area, even their disheveled appearance seemed to draw attention from the immense groups of patrols and police loyalists, dressed in their blues and whites.
“Don’t get yourself noticed, there champ.” Fish snapped, as Eyes began to pull his uniform once more, simply to feel the absolute quality of it. He immediately snapped to, and shoved it back into the bag from whence it came, not immediately caring that he may have created another wrinkle in the fine silken vest.
“Just through this sector, then we’d be wise to wear our new ‘gifts” Fish muttered to Eyes after the passing of an IDPD commandant, rank badges glistening in the sun. The tall towers of trash once standing in the inner city became metallic and concrete as the two traversed through the Northern sector. Machine gun embankments became prevalent on every block and propagandized walls displayed their threatening loyalty, speaking to a world in which Marshal law is the wastelanders dream.
Ahead stood a cobalt steel archway over the Northernmost wall, a true testament to the unwavering diligence of an interdimensional police force hellbent on oppression and marshal law.
“Beautiful bureaucracy at work” Fish remarked under his breath. “Lucky for us, they don’t care about border control. You get out of line, they’ll just shoot you.”
The two continued under the monument, as the cracked sidewalk abruptly formed to gravelly sand, shifting uncomfortably beneath their feet. Decrepit plant matter dotted the barren sea of death.
Eyes absorbed his surroundings, noticing each fallen shrub, turned rock and nomadic trader along the path. This was a new experience for him, as the city offered a societal danger, Eyes began to think of the natural dangers that may await.
The two hiked onwards, the desert a display of beastly predation. Vultures circled to their left, their beady eyes focused on detritus to be consumed. A piercing screech echoed from their circle, as the flock descended in an almost military fashion. Heat mirage emanated from the ground in all directions, and as if the sky had signaled it, the hottest hour of the day had begun.
Fish had already taken off his overcoat, and Eyes’ sleeves were rolled to his elbows.
“Get comfortable, kid. We’ve got about a mile to go.” Fish remarked, noticing Eyes’ impending heat exhaustion.
The two traversed onward until a concrete hut was visible distantly.
“Alright. Let’s get dressed before we get much closer. I doubt these boys’ll take kindly to some unfamiliar colors.” Fish said. Eyes, looking ready to pass out any minute, began to do so immediately. The two stashed their clothes aside a near cactus and walked forward to the structure.
A shot rung in the air from behind them.
The concrete hut was unguarded, the only target confirmation being a Venuz spray painted onto the side. The building was relatively small up close, only the size of a single room. The two approached the door, fully uniformed, and knocked three times. The door opened a crack, and closed almost immediately. Ten seconds pass, and the door opens completely once more. A boy, hardly a man looking to be no older than twenty, held the door open for the duo to enter, and immediately closed it behind them.
The room was equipped to be fully stocked to capacity with guns of all types, but what lie before them were empty shelves and broken-down crates. The only firearms inside were the rifles slung over the shoulders of Venuz gangers inside, only four of them manning the outpost.
“You guys our backup?” one asked, his body looking swollen like that of a septic disease victim.
“Sent to investigate, heard some business has been going downhill.” Fish answered. “Any of you know anything about… this?” Asked Fish, gesturing with his arm to the entire room around him, barren of supply.
The shortest one in the room answered, his right arm scaly and black, far more muscular than his left.
“Damned raiders. You two didn’t get stopped?”
“Not ‘round these parts, didn’t think they traveled this far out” Fish said.
Eyes stood still, unsure of whether to be afraid of the men inside the room, or the men that supposedly lurked outside of it.
“Lucky sons of bitches” the swollen one responded.
As if on cue, a gunshot could be heard outside the concrete walls of the structure. Everyone in the room turned toward the direction of the sound, facing the door. Two more shots rung out, and vultures screeched distantly.
“Animals, all of them. Just looking to kill really.” The boy said.
Eyes immediately looked towards Fish, wide-eyed and distressed. He took out his notepad and began to scrawl a message.
He held it outwards towards fish who promptly nodded in response.
“What’s he sayin’?” scaly-arm inquired.
“He’s got these powers, y’see. Kind of like a sixth sense for danger. Real smart one, he is.” Fish explained. “What he says is that you should duck.”
In the course of a split-second, a mechanical cocking sound chipped through the wall, Fish dove to the floor, pulling Eyes down with him by the shoulder. An illuminating spray of bullets came bursting from all sides, the crates, shelves, and plywood window coverings all expelling sawdust and wood chips into the room. Fish held Eyes’ head down with his own. The sound was the loudest thing Eyes had ever experienced, sitting in the middle of an active meat grinder, any and all upward movement would render them nothing more than ground beef. The spray continued, illuminating the dark bunker-like building with the noontime sun.
The firing stopped as abruptly as it had started. Fish immediately sat back up and scooted back into a corner, pistol already drawn and at the ready. Eyes still laid facedown on the floor, arms outstretched. He slowly turned and rolled across the floor towards Fish and began to sit back up beside him.
“Gun. Now. Don’t shoot, just pull it.” Fish ordered. Eyes, still in shock, snapped to and fumbled for it, dropping it on the fresh wood mulch that littered the concrete floor. He picked it back up and held it at the ready.
Fish inspected the room. Three bodies lie scattered across the room, spattered in various colors. Scaly arm and the swollen one were nothing more than limbs, their torsos obliterated by the heavy caliber rain. Another nameless ganger sat lifelessly against a concrete corner, his shirt no longer white, but a grotesque shade of dark crimson.
A head of bleached hair and two emerald eyes arose slowly from an overturned metal locker. The kid backed against a wall, still sitting, gun drawn. His breathing was regulated, but a hint of trauma pushed his features into a worried sorrow, a fear of death that was justified by the pieces of what were once his comrades.
Fish signaled to him with a finger pointed upwards, as he and the boy rose to a standing fortification beside the window. Fish and Eyes had their pistols drawn, positioned at either side of the window at the ready. It seemed like forever, a lifetime of silence awaiting a response, or even a distant footfall. At last, it could be heard, the slow crunch of heavy footsteps on gravelly sand. Distant chatter followed, deep voices speaking a language unknown to familiar ears.
“How many.” Fish grunted under his breath to Eyes.
He strained, obviously focusing deeply, and opened his many ocular orifices wide. He held up four fingers, and stretched his arms out to motion for the word “big” before holding up another one finger.
“Four of ‘em plus a big guy? No problem.” Fish responded.
The footsteps gained in mass and volume, holding true to Eyes’ prediction. Tense, was their movement and breathing, as any sign of life from within the building would result in swift execution from their assailant.
Swift justice came delivered on the door seemingly out of nowhere, as the metal entryway crumpled beneath a monstrous boot. The three holdouts snapped to look towards the newest hole in their concrete bunker. Present to meet them, standing at eight feet, he raised his massive weapon, and opened fire.
