S1 E8: Death Inc. Pt. 1

Silver Heart (Present Day: Jan 4, 2015) 

I looked at Auntie, smiling softly while we warmed our cold-nipped hands by the fire barrel. Being kind to the one who hurts you is a rare trait. I had to learn from Auntie’s example because my past was only full of regret and bad decisions. From what I can remember, outside my alcohol and drug-induced blackouts, I used to hurt everyone… Anyone… I was living life hard and fast on the edge as a hired gun. The drugs they supplied me egged on my evil deeds and kept me under their control. I don’t think there was a time that I cared enough to try to see things from another perspective or even help someone. All I cared about was my next payday… My next conquest beneath the sheets… My next hard drink… My next snow-filled hit... 

Well, except for my makeshift family… I cared deeply for them… Deep enough for them to inadvertently hurt me… Man, how I miss them. They would be proud of how I’ve changed. I try to talk things out… I try to find solutions instead of storming off. I try to face my inner demons instead of burying them with hard drugs or loose girls, even the occasional guy, no matter how tempting it is.  Even after all this time, I crave what I used to do, but I like the man in the mirror now, a lot more than the one I used to be.

However, even with all these changes, people were nervous around me at the camp. They didn’t know my past; they couldn’t even guess it from how well I could hide things, but they did learn about my blood. About the freakish abilities I possessed. I would hear whispers of curses, theories of alien origins, cryptid parents, government experiments, and even a theory of possession once or twice. Science was never mentioned in this lot of conspiracy theories, at least not a science I could follow.

I was the talk of the camp for weeks--no, months due to how Auntie found me. I’m sure Marcus had something to do with that news spreading like wildfire, even when she begged people to stop spreading rumors. Not that I had any solid evidence, just circumstantial at best, but my hunches were always on the mark. I have yet to experience a day in which my gut led me astray. My best guess as to why he would leak this info would be yet another way to undermine Auntie's authority and slowly gain control. He was so obsessed with power, and he knew how to use fear against others.

Though, to be honest, I couldn’t blame anyone for fearing me. I'm a little scared of myself. If they hadn't recorded what my blood did, I wouldn't have believed it. I would have told them to check into a loony bin. But if I look back on all that has happened in my life... It makes sense. All those times, I avoided death with no explanation… From the shootings to the explosion and all my blackouts… Not to mention that bloody incident when I first joined the homeless network… 

Even now, I can feel my blood move beneath my skin. I just don't know how it works nor how to control it. I doubt I'll ever know, since I want nothing to do with the only mob that would know, the Royal Mob. If I am being honest, I would rather stay clueless about how it works. It has no place in the new life I am building, and I don't need the temptation of that kind of power. Just the thought of what I could do to someone is chilling. I was bad enough as a 'gangbanger'. I didn't need to add supernatural shit to my resume.

All of that needed to stay in the past. This was a new me. It's taken a year, but my life will finally be on track, and I'll be able to get my G.E.D. I can have a future I am proud of. Well, once I can figure out how to deal with the police… I might need to hit up some old acquaintances, if they aren't in jail, to fix my record. But I need some cold hard cash for that. I.O.U.s are worthless when you are starting a new life. Only money talks in those situations.

Maybe Auntie could assign some more free running jobs or information gathering. I know we're all on a set rotation, but if she knows I'm doing it to get off these ruthless streets, she might toss a few extra jobs my way. I opened my mouth to ask Auntie about this proposition, but the words died out when I saw Marcus and some of his goons approaching us. The look of unhinged glee sent shivers down my spine. 

“What do you want, Marcus?” Auntie coldly questioned. Her tone was teeming with barely restrained disgust. Marcus had been breaking a lot of rules lately, and I began to wonder if something more had happened while I was away for the day.  

“We’ve decided your rule over us is over,” Marcus grinned, gesturing to his posse. The other homeless people near us began to slink away as the atmosphere changed into a heavier, electric feeling. The fight was on the horizon and the odds were already stacked against us.

“Is that so?” Auntie growled, her posture stiffening as her hands clenched and unclenched nervously. I had seen her fight a few times in the past. Normally, she wouldn't go down easily, but the scrap with another network last week bruised her up. 

“You are no longer welcome, and the kid is coming with us,” Marcus ordered in a matter-of-fact tone, pulling a knife from his pocket. I froze for a second, my old gang instincts whispering dark thoughts in my ear at the sight of the knife. 

What did he want from me? He actively avoided me or outright taunted me. He never wanted me around… Could this be dealing with the old video and my blood? Did he sell me out to someone? He sells info like no one else and has trafficked before… One of the many reasons Auntie does not mesh well with him.  

The men crept closer. My eyes darted down to my injury. 

Could I fight? Could I run? Could I use free running to save myself? What about Auntie? The others have already backed away, so we cannot rely on their help. Where would we even go?  

Auntie seemed to have found the answer. She shoved the hot barrels' contents towards our aggressors while shouting over her shoulder.  

“Silver, run!” 

Her voice was shaking as the flames shot towards the enemy, momentarily stopping their advance. She couldn't fight, and I doubted we would get far with our injuries, but I obeyed. As we ran, or should I say limped away quickly, I glanced over my shoulder to see Marcus vaulting over the flames gripping his knife tightly. His smile mirrored his crazed eyes.  

I focused on the camp before us. If we could make it under the bridge and through the drainage tunnel on the other side, we could lose them in the streets that followed. The sound of a crashing trashcan forced my attention back over my shoulder. Auntie lay among the scattered debris scraped by the hard asphalt, clutching her bad knee, as Marcus gained on us. I stopped, wanting to go to her, but her voice bellowed out commands with a stoic face.  

“Don’t stop. Leave me here.” 

 I didn't have time to disregard the order. Marcus pounced on her back, pinning her to the ground as his rusty blade came crashing into her spine.