Chapter 110: Book 2: Chapter 12 (Mia and Claudia POV)

Chapter 12

Mia Gutierrez

Day 27

Mia wiped the sweat from her brow in the August heat. She’d been tending the hemp crop which had come along in leaps and bounds in just a couple of weeks. Her skills as an Apprentice Herbalist had assisted greatly in that regard and with Malky building up quite a hoard of coin from his nightly monster-slaying, they’d been able to purchase some mana-enhanced fertilisers from the podium which had boosted growth even further.

The plants were already up above her waist, and she surveyed the impromptu rows in the field with pride at a job well done. Originally, after she’d struck the bargain with Keith, Mia hadn’t planned on getting so invested, but it just wasn’t in her nature to half-ass things.

Unlike Keith.

She checked her watch and realised he’d been out for ‘lunch’ for close to four hours.

He really was a lazy bastard.

Constance may have been a shrill busybody bitch, but she was rarely wrong with her accusations where Keith was concerned. No doubt when he came back baked out of his skull, he’d make up some bullshit about having been discussing terms with his ‘contacts’ for when they came to help run the place.

Which was code for getting high with Bruce, if you could consider Keith’s paltry, transparent excuses as code.

Ultimately it didn’t matter anymore. Mia’s inventory and bags were packed.

Today the promised two weeks were up and tomorrow morning she and Malky would be leaving. Mia sighed ruefully as she made her way back to the clubhouse. She had put in so much effort over the past fortnight and succeeded beyond her wildest expectations. She’d actually begun to enjoy the work and it would be a shame to abandon it all.

That pang of regret was swiftly followed by one of guilt. Mia also knew part of the reason she’d worked so hard was the prospect that it would discourage Keith from coming with them. There was no way Malky would leave him behind if he wanted to come. But with hundreds of square metres of his own produce only a week or two from maturity she hoped that even the fear of abandonment wouldn’t be enough to have him scamper after them with his tail between his legs.

Things would be so much simpler without him around.

She cleaned her hands in a large zinc basin filled with water from the creek. The water was cool despite the sun. As Keith was still missing in action it looked like she would have to prepare the evening meal again. Malky should be back at the clubhouse before long. After the work ploughing furrows on the golf course was complete, he’d raided a hardware store and had been erecting chain link fencing around the perimeter of their fields.

All the information and guides they’d got their hands on all said the same thing about the changes the Framework made to the world. The spawned mobs would become more brazen as time went by and we couldn’t rely on the safety of daylight for much longer.

After drying her hands on a club towel Mia made her way back into the clubhouse but came to a halt a few steps into the lounge area. Keith had returned and he was not alone.

The dishevelled stoner stood in the corner of the room beside Bruce, his friend and weed dealer. The pair of them were staring at the green carpet like a pair of naughty schoolboys sent to the principal. Neither one of them had the guts to meet her gaze.

The reason for this was the other six men spread throughout the lounge. Most of them were middle-aged or older, bearded, and wore dirty biker leathers and denim over armour. They weren’t human any longer either, she could see black horns sprouting from their foreheads and their skin had a reddish tinge that wasn’t due to high blood pressure.

They openly carried assault rifles and Uzi machine guns and grinned at her nastily, revealing forked tongues. Mia didn’t recognise any of them, but she did recognise the patch she spotted on the back of one of their jackets. A large growling dog surrounded by flames. They were members of the Hellhound’s motorcycle gang. No wonder they had chosen to become some kind of infernal race.

Mia didn’t know any Hellhounds personally, but she knew their reputation. It was bad, very bad. They weren’t like the guys in Sons of Anarchy, criminals, but with humanised redeeming features. This gang were unrepentant scum. Pure fucking evil with a capital E.

Mia instinctively stepped backwards away from the grinning gang only to be stopped short as two more of their number came in from the outside and blocked her escape route.

The largest member of the gang tutted at her as she did so. “How rude. That’s not how a hostess should greet guests when they come-a-calling.”

This engendered a belly laugh from most of the bikers, but Keith and Bruce only tried to make themselves look smaller.

“Keith, please tell me you didn’t,” Mia whispered with growing horror and dawning realisation.

He looked up at her then and something in him snapped. His shame and fear diminished and was replaced with something altogether darker, hateful, and contemptuous.

“You were going to leave,” he answered with a shrug. “…for him,” he added with an undercurrent of bile in his tone. “I had to do something.”

The large leader grimaced cruelly at being ignored by Mia. He strode over and backhanded her in the jaw with a closed fist. The glove he was wearing had to have been weighted, Mia felt her jaw crack and dislocate the microsecond before the explosion of pain hit her senses from the blow.

The petite woman spun around and collapsed to the floor and held her broken face gingerly. She would heal, quicker than ever, but this still wasn’t something she was used to.

Keith at least had the decency to look ashamed of the treatment the big man dished out. “Terror…” he started but trailed off when the larger man glared at him.

Terror kicked Mia in the gut as she lay on the floor and then put his booted foot on the back of her neck. Had she not been winded she would have been howling in agony.

The rat-a-tat-tat of automatic gunfire echoed across the golf course. This distracted everyone for a moment as they all looked to the open door. However, Mia could tell the shots were being fired some distance away.

Terror smiled down at her. “That will be my boys taking away your last hope, bitch, by killing the feeb.”

How did Keith get in touch with these assholes? They were not based anywhere near Flint. The Hellhounds didn’t bother themselves with something as minor as the marijuana business. They were strictly in the heroin, crack, guns, and people trafficking trades. Wherever there was money and misery you would find their interest.

“Marty, pass me a collar and give me a hand,” Terror demanded of one of the two men that had been behind Mia.

A few seconds later and Marty had pulled Mia’s head back by her hair and Terror roughly slotted the collar around her neck and fastened the clasp.

Marty let go of her hair but was soon replaced by Terror who kept his knee firmly pressed between her shoulder blades and he got in close. So close, she could smell the rancid foulness of his breath.

“You belong to us now. Keith here tells us you have quite the green thumb. So, you get to live even if you are a wetback piece of shit.”

Great. She hadn’t just been enslaved by evil, drug-runner assholes but racist, evil, drug-runner assholes.

“There’ll be no running and no more wasting time with fucking pot. Poppies and Bloodroot from now on. Work hard and you get to live. Fucking displease me in any way and I’ll feed you to the dogs, you understand?”

Terror’s threatening monologue was interrupted as a few more of the gang rushed up to the clubhouse and into the lounge. One of them was carrying Malky’s new broadsword that replaced the ice one Torin had given him, and Mia’s heart sank.

Terror stood and released the pressure on Mia’s back. “Is it done?” he barked at the new arrivals.

Mia thought the two at the forefront looked at one another a little nervously before one of them finally answered. “We jumped him as planned and riddled him with fucking bullets. He fell back into the creek and the current washed his body away before we could get to it and loot him. All we got was this broadsword that he dropped on the bank.”

Terror grunted with satisfaction. “Shame about the lost loot. According to the useless sketchy bastard, the feeb had most of their gold on him.”

It seemed to Mia, that Terror hadn’t picked up on the hesitation from his men or he’d equated their reaction as fear of his displeasure they’d squandered a prime looting opportunity. They never said Malky was dead or that they’d got experience for the kill. That meant there was hope that Malky was alive.

And if Malky lived then Mia had hope for her own situation too.

 

***

 

Claudia Gattosi

Day 35

 

Claudia had been ordered to vacate the hotel that morning by her twin brother. He had somewhere new in mind for her imprisonment. She wasn’t disappointed by the change. The hotel had filled up with Luca’s lackeys and their floozies, whether willing or not. The raucous atmosphere kept her awake at night and the stink of alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat almost made her gag with her aromatic sensitivity.

Luca’s slaves cleaned the place daily, but that hardly helped, and Claudia suspected the stench affected her brother and the other Leonids to the same degree and had precipitated the change-up.

Luca had designated a white-walled mansion in the centre of the city, only a few hundred feet from the podium, as his new ‘working’ home. Claudia vaguely knew the place; it was a popular venue for wedding receptions.

She may even have attended a wedding here once. The sister of some guy she dated for a few weeks three or four years ago. She hadn’t known anyone, got bored quickly, and drank too many mimosas. Or the right amount depending on your perspective. The rest of the day and night was a bit fuzzy, but she was fairly sure this had been the place.

Her brother had claimed multiple larger properties elsewhere for his leisure time, but he wanted somewhere at the heart of his fledgling empire to hold court. She’d been summoned to the largest of the rooms downstairs to join Luca and his inner circle for a very late breakfast.

The twisted son of a bitch didn’t insist she join him for any familial camaraderie. He knew she had struggled with weight loss when she’d been human, and he thought it was fucking hilarious to ‘tempt’ her with multiple high-calorie dishes on a daily basis.

Claudia picked at the remaining food on her plate. She’d already eaten about half of what had been put in front of her. She sighed and grimaced visibly for her brother’s benefit. Luca wasn’t half as clever as he believed himself to be. She had a vastly improved metabolism these days and needed the additional calories he provided.

A young woman in the black and white of the waiting staff came in from the kitchens with a chrome platter almost overflowing with pancakes. There was so much food on the tables already that most of it would go to waste, not that Luca cared.

Luca proved ever reliable as he yelled with false care. “Put the pancakes down by my dear sister. She looks hungry. And make sure she has plenty of butter and syrup to help wash it down.”

The young woman looked about nervously. Claudia’s end of the table was already cluttered from Luca’s earlier impositions. Seeing the girl’s distress Claudia shoved a few other items on top of one another and made enough room for her to deposit the tray. The server smiled gratefully at Claudia and deposited the pancakes in front of her.

Luca laughed uproariously and his cretinous acolytes followed suit, even though most of them were unsure of what they were supposed to be amused by. Claudia forked a handful of the pancakes onto her plate and drizzled some maple syrup on them doing her best to look mortified at her own dietary weakness.

The real challenge was hiding how famished she really was at these meals.

Claudia needed these shaming sessions to continue as Luca also liked to conduct business during mealtimes, aping what he’d seen in dozens of mafia movies. This was a good opportunity for Claudia to learn more about what was going on and if Luca believed her to be dreadfully unhappy, he was content to have her present.

Speaking of information Luca beckoned and a downcast John Wilkes entered the room and took a seat in front of the table.

“How did things go overnight, Johnboy?” Luca inquired.

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Luca was referring to the nightly defence of Grand Rapids. When dark fell the monsters would come out to play and they had increasingly been making attempts to enter the city. Johnboy fidgeted by tapping the side of his leg, clearly reluctant to speak and then Luca slammed his fist on the table, causing the cutlery to jump and clatter and a few glasses of juice to wobble.

“Now, Johnboy,” Luca growled.

“Yes, boss. Um…uh…things haven’t gone according to plan,” Johnboy finally admitted.

Luca’s eyes narrowed as he stared at his subordinate. “Elaborate,” he said slowly.

“Well, we were trying to blood some of the newcomers and conscripts like you asked, but the creatures are getting tougher and well…well…there are more of them. We’ve had to form larger parties with more experienced members to get through the night and that has slowed levelling and didn’t really decrease the number of casualties.”

“I don’t give a fuck about losing some fucking weaklings, Johnboy,” Luca grunted.

Johnboy looked at the floor and even Luca couldn’t miss the subtext that there was more to be reported and it wasn’t good news.

“Spit it out, would ya,” Luca snapped with impatience.

“Yeah…so…uh…so the team up in Comstock Park got hit a few hours ago,” Johnboy started.

“A few hours ago?” Luca interrupted. “You mean in the daylight?”

“Yes, in the daylight. They were caught by surprise and were attacked by giant black lizards as big as Rhinos.”

“Am I to glean from your hangdog expression that they suffered heavy losses fighting these lizard things off,” Luca pressed while swigging back an early morning bottle of beer.

“In a manner of speaking,” Johnboy hedged.

The sound of glass shattering filled the room as Luca crushed the bottle in his hand. “Explain,” he demanded hoarsely, barely controlling his temper.

“They didn’t so much as fight the lizards off as the lizards left after they wiped out most of our guys on that side of the river.”

Luca’s roar of unbridled rage at the news forced Johnboy violently backwards, breaking the chair he’d been sitting on as he fell back. The noise conveniently covered the tinkling giggle that Claudia had failed to contain.

“Why am I only hearing about this now?” Luca screamed at the room.

“I’m…I’m… sorry, boss. We only found out ourselves after it was done. The guys at the bridge barriers had their hands full, what with the fleeing residents and keeping the lizard tank things from getting over the river,” Johnboy stuttered from his position on the floor.

“How many did we lose?”

“About three hundred of our guys. Maybe double that in slaves and citizens who couldn’t get through the barriers before they had to be closed.”

Luca drew a Tec-9 from his inventory and unloaded the magazine into Johnboy’s prone form. Fortunately for Johnboy he was wearing his armour, so Luca’s physical expression of dissatisfaction didn’t prove fatal, and he lay there moaning piteously.

Luca slammed the gun onto the table with little regard for its welfare and sat back in his chair growling from the back of his throat.

“Benny, Donny, carry Johnboy out and get him a health potion, will ya.”

The order had come from the man sitting on Luca’s right. Sal Vincenzo. Sal was a childhood friend of Luca’s and foot soldier for the family. He was a recent arrival as he’d been in Detroit during integration. Nobody had known until then that he and Luca had still been so close. Luca didn’t admit it, but Claudia suspected Sal had been spying on the family in Detroit on his behalf.

When their cousin Ricky returned to Detroit after his visit a few weeks ago, word spread about what Lucas was doing here. Sal and a handful of others defected the very next day.

Since arriving a few days ago, Sal had been elevated to the top table for his loyalty and the information he brought about the activities of their cousin, Ricky.

Claudia had been a little bit panicked, afraid that Sal might have learned of her clothes store meeting with Ricky, but it would appear her cousin had kept that little nugget close to his chest.

Benny and Donny grabbed the mewling Johnboy and hauled him out of the room. The room was silent apart from the sound of Claudia’s knife and fork as she cut up a pancake and shovelled it into her mouth in brash defiance of her brother’s mood. Luca glared at her and then sat back down.

“Fuck!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. This was followed by a string of other obscenities and broken crockery as Luca hurled whatever he could get his paws on at the walls.

Nobody had the courage to interrupt Luca’s childish temper tantrum.

He shouldn’t have been surprised. It’d been over a month and all the guides said that was when bigger, deadlier beasts would begin to appear and even the smaller one’s habits might change as they grew in levels.

Although it came as no surprise to Claudia that Luca had overlooked the shift in difficulty, his arrogance had always been his greatest weakness. Even now, when he should be issuing orders to reinforce their borders and increase daytime patrols, he wasted time throwing a tantrum.

With everyone distracted Claudia surreptitiously sent several plates of food into her inventory for later before the rage-storm that was her brother got to her end of the table and continued his non-verbal destructive tirade.

Into this maelstrom of discarded food walked the skeezy accountant Larry carrying a large cardboard box. Claudia smelled the stench of cigarettes that clung to him before he entered the room.

“Larry,” Luca bellowed, startling the man. “You better be bringing me some good news.”

Larry stood there transfixed for a moment, taking in the full scene and promptly swivelled in place and started to walk out of the room twice as fast as he’d entered.

Claudia couldn’t restrain her laughter this time and that earned her a cuff around the back of her head from her irate brother. He then howled in sympathetic pain as his actions against her were returned in kind to him.

Despite his anger, and the seething contempt in his eyes, their twinned bond’s retort snapped him out of his spiral of wrath.

“Larry! Get back in here, ya fucking moron.”

The accountant shuffled back into the room holding the box before him like it was aflame.

“What’s in the box, Larry?” Luca demanded with a hint of resigned defeat and stalked back to the head of the table.

“Yes, boss. This arrived via our market a few minutes ago. It was sent by the head of the Outlaw Nation gang in Chicago.”

“I didn’t ask you who sent it, Larry. I asked you what was in it,” Luca snapped.

“Ah…yes. Well, it would appear to be the head of the emissary we sent to negotiate an alliance between our two organisations,” Larry admitted ruefully and gingerly placed the box on the table in front of Luca.

Luca opened the box quickly. He and Sal peered in and confirmed its contents.

“Those arrogant fucks,” Sal exclaimed. “They’ll pay for this. This means war!”

What surprised Claudia, though, was the equanimity with which Luca took the news. He looked calculating, not angry. That was never a good sign from a hothead like her brother.

“It was a longshot anyway,” she heard him mutter absently to himself.

Now her interest was piqued. What had her brother been up to?

“Any word from their rivals, the Street Nation?” Luca asked Larry after a moment’s contemplation.

The creepy former accountant was shocked by the unexpected question. “None that I know of. I was unaware that we’d sent anybody to negotiate with them.”

Luca gave him a withering stare. “I don’t tell you everything, Larry.”

With that, Luca rose and motioned to his men to follow. This news had given him fresh purpose and he left without a second glance at his twin sister, forgotten as his thoughts churned with his machinations.

Claudia remained seated and thought things over. Mealtime was the only time when Carla would pull a vanishing act. She had to look good for her ungrateful brother, but she’d show up soon enough now that brunch was done.

Claudia internally reviewed what she knew of the two Chicago gangs. The members of both gangs were predominantly African American, and they bitterly hated one another. She knew that much. Trying to forge an alliance with both at the same time would be foolhardy even for her brother.

Therefore, given his apparent nonchalance at the Outlaw Nation’s graphic refusal, Luca’s real efforts had been to win over their rivals, the Street Nation.

The emissary would likely have been an assassin or spy. Somebody who was supposed to do something to the Outlaw Nation that would help win over the Street Nation.

Had that gambit failed? The lack of a response from the Streets suggested it had, but then again it may have been too soon to expect something from them. Luca’s behaviour favoured the latter for the time being, but that wouldn’t explain his muttered words.

The Outlaws were based in the western part of Chicago. Street Nation in the east, near the docks.

The docks.

That had to be what Luca was after. Access or control of the Chicago docklands.

Officially the why remained an unanswered question. Though Claudia was confident she could fill in the blanks.

Luca hadn’t mentioned Torin Carter in weeks. But she doubted her brother had forgotten the bloody nose he’d given his organisation or that he’d brazenly passed through the city again a few days later, apparently armed to the teeth.

Or that his ship might be worth enough to buy a small country.

Luca would never forget that.

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