Armando

CHAPTER 4: ARMANDO

Lev lifted the manhole lid slightly and peered through the opening to get a view of his surroundings. The sun had set while they were underground, leaving it dark outside.

"What do ya see?" Mickey asked from down below.

"The coast looks clear," said Lev, "But it's too dark to tell. Hang on, I'm climbin' out."

Lev scaled the remainder of the ladder and stepped onto the ground above. The tunnel had led the two men to a back-alley lot surrounded by apartments and what appeared to be the rear of a nightclub.

"Am I glad to be outta there," Mickey said, climbing out, "I reek o' shit now!"

"Yeah," Lev acknowledged, "These catacombs run along the city's sewer system, so it's to be expected."

"So, this is Sota?"

"Yeah. Looks like we're at the corner of Fifth and Montana. Alright, here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna snatch a car off the street, then use it to reach your father's place quickly."

"You know how to hotwire one?"

Lev nodded.

"Lemme check the street one moment," he continued, "Stay here, alright?"

Lev made his way down a narrow corridor leading to the street. He saw vehicles – Both flaming and undamaged – As well as a lot of dead Slime, but no sign of life.

"Alright," he said making his way back to Mickey, "Looks like the coast is clear. Follow…"

Before Lev could finish, he was shot through the arm by an unseen assailant.

"ACK!" Lev yelped, falling to the ground, "Zun fun a hur!"

"Holy fuck!" Mickey cried, "Stay down, Lev!"

Mickey reached for his weapon and looked around frantically. Several armed Infested could be seen on the fire escapes of the surrounding buildings.

"We're exposed," Lev groaned through the pain, "We gotta find cover!"

"Right!" said Mickey.

Mickey fired several shots up at the Infested while simultaneously helping the injured Lev back to his feet. The two men tried to run to the street, but found their path blocked by both Crawlers and Walkers.

"Shit!" Mickey snapped, "I thought you said the coast was clear!"

"It was a moment ago," said Lev, "GAH! Watch the arm, will ya?"

"There's gotta be a way out…"

With no other option, Mickey and Lev headed over to the nightclub. Lev fought the creatures off while Mickey blasted the hinges off of the emergency exit.

"Inside," Mickey said, kicking the door down, "Come on!"

The two men ran inside with the Infested close behind. At the next intersection, Mickey and Lev placed their backs against the wall and reloaded their Tommy guns, then turned to face the Slime once more.

"Eat lead, motherfuckers!" Mickey shouted while blasting away the creatures, "HAHA!"

"Fardorbn Tokhes!" Lev yelled.

Lev was suddenly grabbed from behind by an infested cabaret dancer.

"Oy," he shouted, as he struggled with the woman, "Get this crazy broad offa me, will ya?"

"You know I'd never hit a dame," Mickey laughed, "So I'll just shoot her instead!"

Unfortunately, before Mickey could save Lev, he was grabbed from behind by a different dancer. In the time that it took Mickey to fight off his opponent, Lev was overwhelmed and forced to the floor.

"HEEELP!" he cried, "AAAAGH!"

"Ah geez," Mickey cried, "Lev!"

As the woman pinned Lev down, several Crawlers pounced on him and began vomiting down his throat. Overwhelmed by the escalating situation in the corridor, Mickey made the harsh decision to euthanize Lev to spare him from transformation. Soon after, Mickey fled the corridor and entered a security office, where he encountered minor resistance from additional dancers and Crawlers.

"Goddam these guys!" Mickey snapped, while shooting them all down, "Gonna kill every last person in town? I don't think so!"

With his submachine gun ammo running low, Mickey was forced to switch over to his rifle. After fighting his way out of the security office, Mickey headed over to the dancers' changing room next door which was considerably more quiet. Wigs and clothes were thrown about the slime-coated floor, along with the corpses of dancers.

"I fuckin' hate nightclubs," Mickey thought to himself, "Buncha…Wait a sec."

In that moment, Mickey had a revelation; if he could somehow reach the underground parking lot, Mickey could easily secure a car and escape.

"Where are the fuckin' stairs now?" he thought.

"You lost, señor?" said a distorted voice.

Mickey turned around and saw a short, balding Cuban man wearing a red shirt with a white suit jacket. The man had slime leaking from his eyes and mouth, which was fixed in a manic gaze. Mickey immediately raised his weapon.

"You're in my club, muchacho," Armando taunted, "You stand no chance here!"

"Yeah?" said Mickey, "We'll see how you fare against a bullet in between your eyes, you slimed piece of…"

Before Mickey could fire his weapon, he was pounced on from behind by another dancer. As Mickey shoved her away, Armando used the opportunity to grab Mickey and slam him into of the make-up tables that lined the wall, shattering the mirror.

"Ow," Mickey groaned, as he slumped sideways onto the table.

Armando then approached Mickey and wrapped his hands tightly around his throat.

"You're a killer, amigo," he said, moving his face close to Mickey's, "Perhaps you could be of great use to us. What say you, Señorita?"

As Armando held Mickey down, the dancer approached the make-up table. The slime that ran down her bare arm began to take the shape of a Crawler. Mickey glanced up in a panic and tried to pry Armando's hands off of his throat.

"There's no resisting, boy," Armando chuckled, "Just give in…"

"Like hell!" Mickey spat.

He then grabbed a shard of glass from the broken mirror and plunged it into Armando's eye, causing him to let out a horrid, distorted scream. After kicking Armando away, Mickey reached for one of his pistols blasted both the dancer and Crawler away.

"Sorry," quipped Mickey, "Show's over, doll."

Mickey then turned his attention back to Armando, but the Cuban had disappeared from the room.

"Fuck!" he muttered.

Mickey then fled the dressing room and stepped onto the main stage. The central room of Armando's nightclub was in disarray as flipped tables, broken bottles and dead bodies decorated the floor. The main entrance was barricaded with chairs, tables, and other furniture, but despite the patrons' efforts, the Slime had still gotten in. As Mickey studied the room, he noticed slime leaking from the ceiling.

"Must've gotten in through the vents," Mickey observed, "These poor sons-of-bitches never stood a chance."

Just then, Mickey heard a noise coming from nearby.

"Hello?" Mickey called out, "Anyone there?"

Mickey cautiously made his way to the opposite side of the stage where a storage room lay. After pressing his ear momentarily against the door, Mickey shot the hinges off, then kicked it down and stepped inside.

"Hello?" Mickey repeated.

Mickey was suddenly pounced on by a balding middle-aged man in a brown zoot suit. Having anticipated the attack, Mickey successfully fought him off, then struck him in the face with the butt of his pistol. The man fell to the floor, clutching his broken nose.

"Stupid goddamned wop," Mickey spat, "I thought I smelled you the moment I entered this club!"

Mickey then pointed his rifle at the man and prepared to fire.

"W-Wait!" the man pleaded, "My name's Lorenzo and if you wanna kill me, then go ahead. But there's a civvie in here with me, and if I die, her life is in entirely in your hands, pal."

Just then, Mickey heard panicked sobbing. While keeping his weapon trained on Lorenzo, Mickey backed towards an overturned table. When he peered over, he saw a young woman in a pink dress with victory rolls cowering behind it.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Mickey asked.

"L-Lucia Tritto," the woman squeaked, "I came with my friends, but…"

"Yeah, yeah," Mickey interrupted, "I didn't ask for your life story!"

Mickey then slung the rifle on his back and helped Lorenzo back up.

"What was the plan?" Mickey asked, while offering a cloth napkin to Lorenzo, "Wait out the invasion in here?"

"I was sent here by her brother," Lorenzo explained as he wiped the blood from his face, "Along with this other guy, Stefano. We was asked to keep an eye on her while she hung out with friends – You know, all discrete and such – But then all hell broke loose. I escorted Lucia to safety while Stefano covered my ass. It don't look like he made it."

"I see," said Mickey, "Well, I thinned their numbers somewhat, but there's still a fuck-ton of 'em waitin' for me out back."

"So, I guess reachin' my car on the street ain't an option?"

"No, but I have another plan. I'm gonna find the club owner's car keys, then head to the garage and take his ride."

"That does sound like a plan."

"Um," Lucia said, emerging from cover, "If you're lookin' for Armando's keys, you can start by checkin' his office. It's near the entrance, just by the coat rack."

"Good," said Mickey, "Let's go! You, stay close!"

Lucia nodded and followed the two men out of the room. They made their way across the dance floor and toward the entrance where a hallway lay.

"Oh God," Lucia cried, "It's those…Things again!"

"Stay back!" Mickey warned.

Lucia covered her ears and cowered behind Mickey as he and Lorenzo fought off the horde of Slime occupying the hallway.

"AAAAHH!" Lucia screamed, "HEEELP!"

Lucia had been grabbed by an Infested waiter and was desperately trying to fight him off. Mickey saved her by drawing his knife and plunging it into his throat.

"They're comin' in through the windows now!" Lorenzo yelled.

"I can see that!" snapped Mickey, "Hold 'em off while I search the office, will ya?"

"Hurry the hell up!" Lorenzo pleaded.

Mickey grabbed Lucia by the hand and fought his way into the office, where he frantically searched for keys.

"Where the fuck are they?" Mickey demanded while flipping over a chair, "You said he kept 'em here!"

"I-I don't know," said Lucia, "I-I-I just assumed they'd be here. M-Maybe Armando has 'em on his person?"

"You assumed? You assumed?"

"Hey, don't you fuckin' yell at me! I'm just a victim here, alright?"

"You know I don't like hearin' dames curse," Mickey grumbled.

"Really?" Lucia said, "Heh, sounds just like someone I know."

"A little help here," Lorenzo said from outside the office, "Guys? Guys!"

Mickey ran out of the hallway and onto the dance floor to find Lorenzo battling a horde. Infested were pouring in from both the stage and the windows. Mickey immediately jumped in and helped Lorenzo clear them out while Lucia covered her ears and ran behind the bar for cover.

With the Slime cleared from the main hall, Lorenzo and Mickey stopped for a moment to catch their breaths.

"Fuck," said Lorenzo, "We make a good team, eh?"

"Sh," said Mickey, "I hear somethin'."

The two men heard music coming from the stage. When they turned to look, they saw an infested man in a white tuxedo playing the grand piano. A buxom infested woman in a red dress and fur shawl walked up to the microphone.

"See that?" laughed Lorenzo, "Fuckin' things actin' like they're still human! Huh."

The woman began to sing, though it came out as a gurgle and a moan that was barely in time with the music.

"Sorry tuts," Mickey quipped, raising his pistol, "No encores…"

Before Mickey could fire, Armando suddenly appeared behind Lorenzo and snapped his neck.

"Son of a…" Mickey said, turning his handgun on Armando.

Before Mickey could fire, Armando shoved Mickey in the chest, hard enough to send him flying across the room and onto a table, causing it to break in half.

"ACK!" Mickey groaned, clutching his aching chest.

From behind the bar, Lucia watched in terror as Armando made his way over to Mickey.

"GET UP!" she begged, "Please, mister!"

"I told you this is my bar, cabrone," Armando growled, "You and your friends don't belong here!"

"The hell I do!" Mickey spat.

As Armando grabbed Mickey by the shirt collar, Mickey grabbed a bottle of gin and slammed it on Armando's head, but it did little to faze him.

"That the best you got, amigo?" Armando taunted.

Armando pulled Mickey to his feet, then hurled him towards the bar. Mickey collided with the countertop, causing several bottles to collapse.

"Oh God!" Lucia cried from behind the counter.

"Lucia," Mickey groaned, "Y-You gotta get outta here! H-Hurry!"

Lucia ran from behind the bar and out a nearby exit.

"That your girlfriend?" Armando taunted, "Once I am done with you, she's next!"

"Don't you fuckin'…"

Armando then slammed Mickey on top of the counter and dragged him across, knocking over bottles and drinks before sending him flying onto another table, which he rolled off of and onto the floor.

"You are weak, my friend," Armando laughed, while Mickey struggled to get back on his feet, "Nothing but a pequeña puta."

Enraged, Mickey immediately got back to his feet.

"Weak?" he snapped, "That's it! You're goin' down, old man!"

Mickey then raised his fists to his face and entered a southpaw boxing stance. Armando smirked, then charged Mickey, who slipped outside the attack and delivered a hard left to Armando's ribs. then followed up with a right hook to the face that sent Armando spinning and slime spurting from his mouth.

"Got plenty more where that came from," Mickey taunted.

Armando glared at Mickey, then dashed toward him once more. After bobbing and weaving under Armando's assault, Mickey threw a right overhand that struck the Cuban in the nose. He then followed that up with a series of jabs to Armando's exposed face and torso, before finishing him off with an uppercut to the chin that sent him colliding with the bar. For a moment, Armando clutched the counter for support, then shook his head and puked out more slime.

"Done already, old man?" Mickey laughed.

"Not in a million years, muchacho!" Armando growled.

Armando rushed Mickey yet again. This time, Mickey ducked and grabbed Armando by the waist, hoisting him up into the air and slamming him down onto a nearby table, snapping its legs and causing it to collapse. The bottles that sat on the table had shattered, spilling booze all over the club owner. Mickey then pinned the Cuban's chest with his foot while proudly holding up the car keys he snatched from his person.

"Thanks for the ride," said Mickey.

"Hijo de puta!" snapped Armando, thrashing about on the floor, "You are a dead man! YOU HEAR ME?"

"Sorry pal," said Mickey, taking his lighter out of his pocket, "As much as I'd like to stay and dance some more, I got places to go."

"Oh, no, no, no!"

Mickey then tossed the lit lighter onto Armando. The booze soaking his skin and clothing acted as an accelerant that burned the Cuban alive in seconds. As the fire began to spread across the floor, Mickey fled the main hall and headed down the corridor Lucia ran into earlier.

"Lucia?" Mickey called out, "Lucia, where are you, damnit?"

The corridor led Mickey down a staircase to the club's parking garage. However, the moment he stepped inside, he was struck from the side. As Mickey fell to the floor, he glanced up at the man who had hit him; a shorter man sporting a blonde crew-cut and dark blue zoot suit.

"Just what in the fuck do you want from my sister, huh?" he asked, pointing his Tommy gun straight at Mickey, "Ya fuckin' Mick…"

As Mickey glared up at the man, Lucia suddenly appeared and stepped in front of him, diffusing the situation.

"Manny, wait!" she cried, "Please don't hurt him! This man saved my life!"

"Did he now?" Manny said, lowering his weapon, "Alright, Mick, tell you what; for savin' my little sister, ya get to live. Ready to bounce on outta here, Luc?"

Lucia nodded, then followed Manny to his car

"Bye mister!" Lucia called out to Mickey, "Thanks again!"

As Mickey stood back up, he watched Manny and his sister drive out of the garage in a black convertible.

"The things I do for dames," he quipped.

It didn't take Mickey long to find Armando's convertible, as it was the most extravagant car in the lot. After getting inside and starting it up, Mickey drove out of the garage and back onto the street, where he met some resistance.

"Outta my way!" he commanded, while running over some Infested.

Mickey drove far away from the nightclub, which continued to burn from the fire he started. At last, there was nothing standing between him and his father.