To sin or not to sin?
A preacher man once told me 'thou shalt not kill' but in truth, we are all sinners. I wont tell you I am a good man, but I will tell you that things will get done when I say I will get them done. A man's reputation means everything, or else aint no good being anyone, really.
Some poor jackboot in OT terrritory been fileting people, mostly children. I hear things all the time over the screamsheets about who might be at fault. None these fools really know much, and the truth gets kinda grey with every passing week that go by. I click on the gridscreen and listen to OT and Neut Telecasts about who could be next? Your brother? My girl? The neighbors children? Who knows? Thats part of the fear tactic that the broadcasters sorta put on a body. They sit there behind their silk screens and digital bunkers while they tell you, that youre not safe. Are any of us really safe? But, that question dont bother me near as much as this poor idiot.
Some chuckleheads gotta get his due comeuppance for this. No one kills children and lives to laugh about it.
Some headshrinkers will tell you about 'method' and 'criminal mind' and all sortsa other terms that are better left for the educated to quandry over. This really aint the kinda thing some slackarsed investigator can really do. In order to know the mind of a killer, in some ways you gotta relate.
"Hey hunny, you coming home tonight?" Sweets to the sweet. My ladylove is always looking out for me.
"Not tonight, girly. Some poor fool made himself a cause. Don't wait up for me. This might be an all nighter."
"Youre on a job?" she responds, a little disappointed.
"You could say that. I dont spose dinner can wait, sweetheart?" I know she planned something tonight, and many a part of me hates to make her wait.
"We talked about this already!" Yeah, shes upset. I am a damn fool sometimes.
"I know hun, but this is important. I have to go take out the trash."
The voice com goes dead. She's pissed, and I know it. I could have easily explained to her the situation, but that just means if Ahava decides to come, she will be another target. I dont think I could live with that on my conscience.
I yalm out to Newland, and talk to an old buddy of mine. He and I go back to the old days, but Slim is retired now. Gotta bad limp now, and as an NT that's as good as being dead sometimes. I ask around a few questions and get an idea where to start. He tells me that I should probably look around Home, Harry's, or 2HO. Lots of places to hide there, and most of the kills were near the gridterms. That way, theres always a place to run. I decide to try his first hunch.
20 minute trip later, and I get to Home. I like Home, really. Its kinda quiet sometimes, until the electrical storms kick up wind and crag, then its just another dustbowl. Recent alien attacks destroyed a portion of the outer wall, and near the docks. I grease a few locals but few of them know anything but how to dirt farm. Not much help at all. The slimiest of them points out a tavern near the downtown court. He smells like mold, and damn near pisses his pants when I lift him off the ground, and my one good eye beams at him from under my hat. Some people just cant control themselves.
There are plenty of squatters in Broken Shores too. This is near a ripe place to be picking all sorta wayward fruit.
I go into a place called 'The Sandbox' and aint a righter name for it. Inside are situated all sortsa types. Dirty scammers, refugees, traders, fixers, facemen, and even some mercenaries near the back all take up space here and there. The joint smells like bad synthbeer and wood alcohol, almost like the still itself is under the counter. I take off my coat and grab a chair off to one side. The server saunters over in the usual way, and asks me in a canary voice, "any particular poison today?" I nod and knock on the plasteel counter. "I'll have a whiskey, and none of the well crap. I wan't something with a little fire to it."
"One whiskey, on its way." She turns on her heel, and flashes me a smile.
Poor girl, prolly the only pretty face working in this farm. Must be bad for her with all the types I see populating around me. I kinda shut it down, knowing I can't save the entire world. A pretty face is usually the first signs on snakes under the sheets too. The world we live in is fulla danger signs.
I take a gander around. All of them look like they could be a potential murderer of some merit. It's not much help. The face drops my whiskey on the table. One of her pale leg slips outta her dress, like she thinks I am some sorta rube. I drop a few creds, more than the usual tip. I am still a sucker sometimes. But still, the bank aint broken yet. She flips her hair and winks. I raise the shot and give the old girl a wink back. "Whats a tough like you doing in this town? We normally get regular folk and the like here. What's your story, partner?"
I look up sideways and put the glass shot back down onto the table. "We'll I got me a score to look up. Think you can keep a secret?" I curl my lip, throwing my own game back at her. I gesture her to get close. Her eyes widen, and she leans in, half sitting on my tabletop.
"I am looking for someone." I say, sorta blankly.
"Well, what kinda someone you looking for?" I can tell from her chest, she thinks shes got me. Too bad this young lass dont know any better.
"The kinda someone youre not supposed to be looking for. The kinda person who'll give ya a rough night, and might leave you in a bad situation the next morning." She nearly gasps, and then moves her rump from the counter to my lap. Her hair falls about my shoulders, and I remove my hat.
"Well, Hero... I get off around 2am. If you got someplace we can be. I can make sure to be there." She crinkles a smile.
Inside my head I can hear it now. Dinner getting cold, and shes prolly livid. I did say that I was gunna make it. I disappoint her sometimes though. I may be a man, but sometimes not a great husband. She knew what she was buying into.
"Well then, lets just stick to business, sweetheart."
"Oh I can be reaaaaaal business-like if you want, Hero." She straightens up in her seat, taking my hat from the table and placing it on her head. The smell of her perfume was cheap, but she was making excellent headway, if I were interested.
I get in really close and whisper into her ear. "I am looking for a rough type. Not someone good with the ladies. A mean one. Someone that aint happy about something, and is looking for revenge. Someone whos hurt people."
Her face downshifts almost instantly. Her bright smile replaced with a sort of grim demeanor.
"What I mean to say is, if there was a man who was fitting the description.. you think you could point him out to me?"
She nods, and then straightens herself back up. She twinged a bit, I can tell, but it was ever so slight. "If someone comes my way, I'll be sure to tell you, hero." She winks and then gets off my lap. Yeah......
After a few drinks, some roughnecks walk in. I am an observer type, so this kinda piques me some. They look OT on off duty time. I can only guess that they were some small detail where their types would be best fitted. Probably guarding docks or some other outta the way places.
The waitress spends an extra second with one of them, and ever so silently motions in my direction.
I finish up my whiskey and then get up to use the gamode. I usually do this, so that the bad guys can come up with a plan with me outta the room. It's a game really, being a hunter. You stir the pot, and wait to see what comes up. Its easier to track something thats looking for you, instead of you looking for it.
When I come out, surefire they aren't here. I drop a few creds onto the tenders counter and tip my hat on the way out.
I decide to take a walk. A long walk. Hopefully the backstabbing that the server girl gave me will chum the water, as it were. I get a few blocks down, and then towards the docks. There is an are with little light, and I decide thats prolly the best set up point for me. There's and old abandoned apartment complex there, and looks like it would be hard to call for help from.
