I agreed to go out with you.'
She pressed her fingertips to my lips to stop me from saying anything. 'I know you, perhaps better than you know yourself. I know you're a good man, a strong man, and I know I love you. There is nothing you could say that would change that or make me think any less of you.'
I sat there stunned for a moment or two as I realized the true depth of her feelings for me. Somehow I'd assumed there was no way she could feel the same way about me as I felt about her, but that proved to be a fallacy that exploded with the greatest of ease. Still, she didn't know about my lunar mood swings, and that revelation would sorely test the strength of her convictions.
I started to speak, but something caught my attention above and beyond Lynn's head. Two hollow-eyed kids came around the corner of the trode kiosk, then ducked back when they saw me. Alarm bells immediately went off in my head because even though they'd washed off most of the jack o' lantern makeup the Hallo-weeners affected, their jackets were black and orange- Halloweener colors.
'Are you done feeding the birds?'
Lynn immediately caught the concern in my voice. 'What is it?'
I looked around and saw more potential Weenies loitering in the background. 'Gangers. I don't like it.'
She sighed with exasperation to cover her nervousness. 'Wolf, thisis a public park. They have the right to use it.'
I nodded. 'True enough, but this just doesn't feel right.'
Again she tried to play it light. 'I think you just want to get me back to your place…'
I stood and held my hand out to help her up. 'No denying that. Why don't you scatter the rest of the bread in one huge papal audience, and let's get out of here. We'll keep it natural, as if nothing's wrong…'
'Wolf, you're scaring me.' She crushed the bag, then up-ended it and let the crumbs spill out. 'Let's go, if we must.'
The fear in her voice gave way to anger. I knew it wasn't directed at me exactly, and I immediately focused my reaction to it on the Weenies who had started to follow us. At the same time I wanted to kick myself for having left my Viper behind3. The situation that appeared to be shaping up was not one in which I wanted to be unarmed.
The Wolf spirit's voice echoed through my head.You need not be weaponless, Longtooth. Embrace me and I will deal with your enemies.
'No!'
Lynn looked back at me. 'What?' Despite her fear, I saw her concern for me reflected in her green eyes.
3See, I wasn't kidding, was I?
I shook my head. 'Nothing important.' I glanced at the forest of gray buildings at the landward end of the pier. 'I'm not sure if we're being followed or not, but there's a quick way for us to find out.'
She hesitated for only a second. 'Lead on.'
I guided her toward the crosswalk as if nothing unusual was happening at all. The Weenies stayed with us, but lurked at the back of the crowd gathering to cross the street. I worked us toward the curb, then pulled her into the street. 'Run!'
The irate honking of horns and the squeal of brakes drowned out any shouting from the other pedestrians as we dashed into traffic. Lynn let her fear run riot and the adrenaline made her nimble and oh so quick. She cut around the front of a Ford Americar and between two Honda minivans while I vaulted a silver Porsche Mako. The driver shook his fist at me through the windscreen, then went white as a bullet shattered the safety glass.
The next two silenced shots went high, but I saw them hit the Sumitomo Bank building. Adrenaline lending wings to my feet, I caught up with Lynn and grabbed her right hand in my left. Without warning I stopped and swung her around into the alley behind the bank, then I paused and made yet another in a long line of mistakes. I turned back to see who was pursuing us.
The lead grunge snapped two shots off with his silenced Ingram Mk. 22 before another Mako-this one white and sporting a dorsal fin telephone antenna-took him like its namesake would take a swimmer on an Australian beach. The lower portions of his legs whipping around like nylons on a clothesline, the ganger bounced from the hood to windscreen, then up over the top of the car. I'm not sure where the antenna caught him, but it looked crimson to me as the car continued through the intersection.
One of the two bullets peppered me with concrete shards and lead splatter as it hit the wall near my head. The other one hit me square in the ribs and spun me back into the alley. I ricocheted off the opposite wall, then sprawled unceremoniously on stinking bags of garbage.
Lynn dropped to her knees and reached out to me, then her hands recoiled in horror to cover her mouth as she saw the bullet hole in my jacket. 'Oh, God, you're shot!' The blood drained from her face and I sensed she wanted to run, but refused to give in to her panic. 'I have to get help…'
I held a hand up as my body once again let me breathe. 'Wait… I'm battered but not bloodied.' Gingerly I opened my coat and the.45 caliber slid across my t-shirt and to the ground. 'See, no blood, no foul.'
It heartened me to see the relief in her eyes. I saw no reason to mention that the bullet had broken at least one of my ribs and mat if the Weenies got any closer with their guns, my t-shirt wouldn't stop their evil intentions, much less another bullet.
I took her hands in mine and gave them a squeeze. 'Go further along the alley. Duck down behind that big dumpster there. I'll be along in a second. There's something I have to do.'
'I don't want to leave you here all…'
'Just a second, babe, then I'll be with you. Trust me.'
As she headed back down the alley, I worked past the pain and reached inside myself. Deep in my heart I touched the Wolf spirit. The Old One hauled himself up into a sitting position and looked at me disapprovingly. The red rebuke in his eyes found allies in the scarlet shadows rippling over his black form.
Even before the Old One had a chance to speak, I cut him off. 'I need your strength and your speed and your senses, and I need them now! I have no time to debate you. Now!' Without waiting for his acquiescence, I pulled myself out of the self-imposed trance and smiled as the world reordered itself in accordance with my new perspective.
Despite the fetid garbage surrounding me, I could still smell the lingering trace of Lynn's perfume and the fear it helped mask. I heard the sounds she made as she ducked to safety, and the sounds of the rats in the dump-ster behind which she hid. More important, though, I heard the asthmatic wheezing of a Weenie running toward where he'd seen me fall.
In an instant-the broken rib a twinge of pain to be ignored-I was on my feet and had flattened myself against the opposite wall of the alley. The acrid scent of gunsmoke burned into my nostrils as the silenced snout of another Ingram Mk. 22 poked around the corner. Without hesitation I grabbed the gun and yanked, pulling the startled Weenie into the shadowed byway. I tore the gun free of his feeble grasp, then smashed its blocky butt against his head. He collapsed without so much as a moan.
Following him came a gillette who'd learned to move almost silently. My first warning of his presence came when the forty-centimeter-long claws built into his right hand telescoped out with a click, then whistled as he swung them at me. His cut came waist-high and should have sliced my belly open, but I'd already begun to twist away from him before his attack began. The trio of polished steel blades shredded the right flank of my jacket and razored through the t-shirt and some flesh, but they didn't get enough to put me down.
Before he could turn his wrist around and try to backhand me with the blades, my right hand locked on his hand. I bent his hand inward toward his own chest. Anticipating my move, he retracted the claws and relaxed in preparation for using some esoteric martial art to turn my attack against me. That's why it surprised him when I jammed his fist against his own chest, then smacked the gun in my left hand against his funny bone.
The blow numbed his forearm and released the claws.
I stepped over his dying body and out onto the street again. The half-dozen gangers and razorboys racing down the sidewalk collided abruptly as their lead elements tried to stop. I stroked the Ingram's trigger twice, sending two three-shot bursts in their direction. Fortunately for them, and whoever does the workman's compensation filing for the Halloweeners, a heavy-set ork up front absorbed most of the damage. One bullet lanced sparks from a gillette's left-arm assembly and another folded an ork over as it drove his navel out through his spine, but otherwise it left the band unscathed.
Four out of at least ten down, and me with a half-empty clip and busted barrel staves in my chest. Why the
