[REND] 11.3 - Marshy Rowy Reunion

Overdrive

Overdrive’s eyelid uncontrollably twitched when he saw a message from Jim Ambrose pop up on his phone. That literal metallic dick couldn’t help but ruin Overdrive’s good time.

[ Jim Ambrose: 12 next week. Don’t be late. ]

Twelve more people? So soon? Those bastards were chewing through the homeless population of La Esperanza like munching on a corn on the cob. Their demands on him were increasing lately.

Could they not understand that a dozen people shouldn’t disappear in a week? Having cops on their payroll could only delay the investigations so much. Probably, should search for a place out of town or even hit another city.

Dillon should be in charge of this—Overdrive’s trusted lieutenant just had to get himself killed a few days ago. Dillon was like a brother to Overdrive. But Overdrive couldn’t understand why Dillon killed Teflon’s guy while collecting debt payments. If that was a show of power, Dillon should’ve brought muscle along for intimidation.

Killing a distributor hurts their business. Now, Overdrive was forced to punish Teflon’s group. As much as he hated this, he had to do it to show the others that they couldn’t cross him. More business losses.

Smart Dillon finally did something dumb. Probably let the power get to his head. Overdrive admitted that he noticed Dillon was getting too full of himself as they raked the greens.

“What’s the prob, boss?” asked Tommy Gee, someone half as smart as Dillon.

Overdrive waved his phone. “It’s Jim Ambrose,” He sighed as his neuro-aug implants flooded his body with inhibitors, calming him. He required higher and higher doses to put a clamp on stress and anxiety.

Tea Party’s Doc warned him that he shouldn’t rely on it too much, or he’d eventually be immune, his nerves shot up for good. But what could he do? The pressure from getting stuck between Big Marcy and the Tea Party was too much. Overdrive couldn’t function without the inhibitors.

“They’re asking for warm bodies again?” Tommy Gee used a small blade to arrange blue powder into neat lines on the glass table. “Dillon’s supposed to—”

“I know,” Overdrive interjected through tensed jaws. His teeth hurt at times. It could be from the drugs. It could be from clenching his jaws at night. “Dillon can’t get me people if he’s inside a morgue freezer.”

“Boss, why can’t we just move away?” asked the rat-faced Biter. “I know you owe Jim Ambrose and his bosses for this.” Biter gestured at their hideout. “But if we’re not here, we don’t owe them this shit, right? They’ll just take all of this as payment like… like…” He snapped his fingers while his face was contorted in serious thought.

“A bank foreclosing a home,” Tommy Gee added. “Yeah, boss. You’ve made more than enough money for them. We can start again in another city. We don’t need them.”

“Not this talk again,” Overdrive said, groaning. “We’re staying here, and that’s that.”

His debt to Big Marcy was not a chain around his neck; his debt to the Tea Party was. In return for the augments that saved his life, he was now working for them. He was like an expensive smart car in his garage that could be shut down by the manufacturer if the licenses were voided. Meeting Big Marcy and getting into debt with him was all an act. Jim Ambrose thought Overdrive had become his underling, ordering him around to supply the warm bodies for their games in the arena. All for the sake of eventually meeting Mark, Big Marcy's younger brother and the true head of the organization. Dillon was the only one who knew, and now he was gone.

At times, Overdrive thought of pulling the wires and tubes from the ports all over his bony body. It’d be so easy to exit this bullshit world. But he was afraid of dying. Most people were, too, right?

“I got an idea, boss!” Biter exclaimed. “Teflon’s group.”

“What about them?” asked Overdrive, snapping out of his suicidal thoughts.

“Warm bodies! You need twelve? Teflon and his boy are, uh, six. Seven?”

“Seven,” Tommy Gee said before bending down and inhaling a line. “Woah! That’s the good stuff.” He wiped his nose and added, “Yeah, boss. Just give Teflon’s group to Jim Ambrose. Free up our storage room. They’re just stinking up the place there.”

“We should’ve made a dungeon,” Biter said. “This is our castle, and it’s lacking a dungeon.”

“This is my castle!” Overdrive slammed his metal fist on the granite table, scattering Tommy Gee’s powder. Yet another crack on the expensive table. “What I say goes here! And I’m saying that Teflon will pay for what he did—I’ll see it with my own eyes. If I give him to Jim Ambrose, I won’t witness his death.”

“Sorry, boss. I was just suggesting,” whined Biter. “We’ll get the bodies for—huh?”

The door opened. The humongous Moogu woke up with a start and heaved his flabby stature to check who it was. Chewie poked his head in. “Hey, boss, there is somebody who wants to see you. A girl. Says she has information about Dillon's death.”

The hell was this now? Overdrive leaned forward, his oversized designer shirt draping over his slight frame. “Let her in, but stay on guard. It can be Teflon's setup.”

Chewie entered the room, bowing as a greeting. A short and petite girl in a red hoodie and a white face mask followed after him, slightly shivering and twitching her fingers. A middle schooler?

“She might be Teflon’s sister or niece or something,” Chewie said.

“Hey, remember what Teflon said?” Tommy Gee blurted, rising from the table. “A woman wearing a red hoodie might’ve witnessed what happened to Dillon? That was actually true?”

“Little girl, you really shouldn’t be here.” Overdrive sighed. He had a weakness for children. They shouldn’t be part of the cruel underworld. He’d been forced into this life and sympathized with others in the same situation. “Anyway, you wanted to tell me something?”

“Tattoo—I mean, Teflon’s innocent,” she said in a soft voice.

Overdrive clicked his tongue. Teflon was probably taking care of this kid. But Overdrive didn’t have a choice in this situation. “I don’t care who’s Teflon to you. If you’re begging for his life, it’s not going to work. He killed Dillon. Life for a life—that’s how it is.”

“It wasn’t Teflon.” She looked straight into Overdrive’s eyes.

“May not have been actually him,” said Overdrive. “One of his guys. What it comes down to, girlie, is that Teflon’s group did it because Dillon killed Fender.”

“That’s not what happened,” said the girl.

“Fine. Tell us your story. Fuckin’ Teflon putting up kids for his alibi. Get on with it.”

The girl timidly nodded. “It ha-happened last Monday. I was walking through Marsh Row. It was late evening. I meet Teflon’s group. I didn’t know who they were, and I was scared of them. But they were nice to me. So nice that Beanie—uh, Fender. He was wearing a beanie then. Fender followed me to make sure I was safe.”

“You’re going to tell me to forgive them because they were nice to you?”

“N-no! Um, there was another guy who followed me—Dillon. He’s your subordinate or something, right?”

“He is, yeah,” said Overdrive. He was getting some off vibes with this girl.

“Dillon was very much a creep and wanted to assault me.” The girl’s tone became more direct.

Overdrive could believe that Dillon might do something like that. “Girlie, if you’re trying to—”  

“Fender tried to stop him,” the girl continued. “But Dillon pointed a gun at him.”

“Ah, I see,” said Tommy Gee, snapping his fingers. “That’s how their fight started.”

“Then they fought for the gun?” Overdrive asked. “Fender killed Dillon. Maybe Fender was—”

“No. Fender didn’t kill Dillon,” the girl interjected.

“Huh?” Overdrive felt his heart pounding, and he didn’t know why. Something was wrong. “Who did it?”

The girl gave him an innocent smile. “I did. I killed Dillon. Also, Fender.”

“Wha-what?” Overdrive didn’t know if he should laugh at her crazy claim. Tommy Gee, Biter, and Chewie laughed. Moogu just stared blankly. “How could a tiny girl like you kill that tough bastard Dillon?” Overdrive joined in the laughter. “What are you, an Adumbrae or something?”

“Well, yes,” the girl replied. “How did you know?”

Silence.

“The fuck?” Biter said. “Weird kid.”

Now, everyone looked confused, staring at each other, unsure of what to do. “What kind of nonsense shit are you saying?” Overdrive started to say.

“Enough of the jokes, girlie,” Chewie said. “Sorry, boss. I shouldn’t have brought—”

“I am an Adumbrae,” said the girl in a clear voice.

Overdrive looked at Chewie, who placed his hand on his gun. He felt it too? Danger. There was something uncanny in the way an innocent voice spoke a line like that. Overdrive thought this was a prank, but the fact that this was continuing made him wary. It didn’t make sense.

“Why do you look surprised now?” the girl asked. “You said it yourself."

Overdrive’s implants were about to pump inhibitors again, but he countermanded it, switching them to release artificial adrenaline. A short, harmless-looking girl was in front of them, but his instincts screamed danger.

“Want me to repeat it?” said the girl. “I am an—”

“Ah!” Chewie pointed his submachine gun at her and fired.

The girl reached for the gun and crumpled its front half with her bare hands as Chewie fired. Bangs followed as shrapnel flew. Chewie staggered back while screaming, his arms bloodied. Moogu swung his sledgehammer fist crackling with electricity. She met the punch, her tiny fist shattering Moogu’s arm. Then she punched Moogu’s stomach, burying her fist several inches into the fatty flesh.

Overdrive aimed his metal hand at the girl. Biter and Tommy Gee also had their guns out. But they didn’t shoot. The girl had pulled down Moogu and used him as a human shield. Her right hand grasped Moogu’s crown, her fingers peeling back the skin of his bald head. Their giant friend groaned in pain.

“I’d rather not kill any of you,” the girl said. “Okay, I’m fine with killing. But if you don’t give me a reason, you’ll all survive this night.”

“Shoot through me, boss….” Moogu moaned.

“No need for that.” The girl moved Moogu around like a giant stuffed toy. Overdrive’s arm shivered as he aimed. She smiled. “Do you have an aim assist in your eye? Isn't that cheating? Want to gamble on shooting my head? That’s the weakness of us Adumbrae, right? Supposedly. If you do hit me, and I don’t die, then that’s the end of all of you.”

She’s right, Overdrive grimaced.  

“But so long as you don’t do anything stupid,” she said, “you all have a chance to live.”

“Did Big Marcy send you?” Overdrive hadn’t finished the sentence when he knew that wasn’t possible. Big Marcy wouldn’t bother with this. If Big Marcy wanted anything from Overdrive, Jim Ambrose would barge right in.

“Big Marcy? Ah, no. I’m an Adumbrae doing my own thing. Not part of any group.”

“Yo-you’re really a-an Adumbrae?” Overdrive regretted not accepting Doc’s offer for additional scanners for his left bionic eye. Overdrive didn’t have any more upgrades than necessary.

He didn’t need a scanner because the girl was ready to prove her claim.

She pulled up her face mask to expose her mouth while still covering the middle of her face. She bit the index finger of her left hand clean off, flesh and bones and all. Her blood streaked her pale lips like lipstick.

She held up her hand missing a finger for all to see while still mostly hiding behind a semi-conscious Moogu. She had a huge smile as if the pain of cutting her finger didn’t bother her.

“Ahh!” Biter yelled.

“Don’t shoot!” Overdrive shouted. “Don’t fucking shoot or we’re dead.”

“Holy shit…” Tommy Gee whispered as a small nub grew out of the bloody stump.

A few seconds more, and a bone had formed. Flesh crept up the white material to cover it. Overdrive saw it in full detail with the zoom feature of his eye. He flooded his system with inhibitor chemicals as his heart started to pound. An Adumbrae! They were fucked!  

The girl spat out her finger and fixed her mask. She showed them the finger and wiggled it. “Infinite fingers.”

Overdrive couldn’t understand why an Adumbrae suddenly showed up. “Are you… Are you one of Big Marcy’s—?”

“No. I’m not one of those fake ones. No one knows about me, that’s why I’m keeping my identity secret. Just call me Red Hood.”

“Not… fake?”

“A real one, dummy,” she said. “How hard is that to understand? I became an Adumbrae the natural way. Naturally unnatural. You all look like you’ve seen a monster. Oh, wait. That’s me.” She giggled. “Anyway, there’s no need to be scared. I’m very reasonable.”

“What do you want?” Overdrive demanded, flipping through the possibilities.

This girl, Red Hood, could be one of Big Marcy’s Adumbrae acting on her own. To what end? He couldn’t fathom. Or she could be telling the truth, and they were talking to a real Adumbrae, a monster from another world, operating on no rhyme or reason of humans.

“I want to… right a wrong. Like, I want you to let Teflon and his friends go because they’re innocent. They also lost a member of their group, same as you did. The difference is that this is Dillon’s fault.”

“I’m sorry! We’re all sorry,” Overdrive said. This was no longer about Dillon. If anything, Overdrive was angry at Dillon for poking a bear with a stick. Worse than a bear—an actual Adumbrae! This was about survival. He was willing to say anything that could make this Adumbrae leave. “Right, guys?”

Biter and Tommy Gee eagerly nodded, mumbling their agreement.

Overdrive lowered his arm. “Put down your weapons,” he hissed at his men. They complied. Overdrive put on a trembling smile. “Yeah, we’ll release Teflon.” If this monster were interested in Teflon, then maybe Overdrive could use him as a shield.

“Not just him,” said Red Hood.

“Of course! Teflon’s gang is free. Tommy Gee’s going to get them back there. No tricks, I swear. Tommy, go!” Overdrive smiled again as Tommy fell to the floor in his hurry to reach the storage room. “Again, I’m truly sorry for what Dillon had done. There’s no need to kill us.”

“Don’t give me a reason to,” she said.

What fucking bad luck this was! Overdrive raged at the deceased Dillon in his head. This was more trouble than when Dillon shot the wrong guy when they used to be hitmen.

Or… could it be good luck?

The girl mentioned she wasn’t part of any group. Was it possible to gain her as an ally? She could be the ticket to escaping the bullshit sandwich that was Big Marcy and the Tea Party. It wouldn’t hurt to try… but it’d truly hurt if he made a mistake.

But this was his only chance of fighting back.