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"Hell Night"
A Gunsmith Cats shortfic
by Mecha-Ohki
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"Well, that's the last of them," Rally said as she turned
out the porch light. "I guess we get the rest of the candy
to ourselves," she grinned, digging in for her favorites
before handing the bowl to me.
I looked in it to see what was left. It almost seemed like
an unending supply of candy, so much left even after we'd
given away candy for hours. And the kids at our door seemed
unending, too.
That's how it started earlier tonight, me and Rally, sitting
in the living room after all the trick or treaters had gone
home. The kids were pretty good in our neighborhood, no
vandals or little thieves. No, our big problems came from
somewhere else.
We had planned to sit and have our own little horror movies
film fest all night: "In The Mountains of Madness", "Evil
Dead 1, 2 and 3", "Cast A Deadly Spell", "Dr. Phibes Rises
Again", all ready for playing on the VCR. We turned on the
TV and got the 7PM local news, the last channel we watched
yesterday.
* * * * *
"...It seems the problems of other big cities
have come to darken Chicago's doors as well.
Detroit's infamous 'Hell Night', a night of
Hallowe'en crime, vandalism, and arson that
have plagued their city for two decades, is
coming to the windy city.
Police have received word and notified the
media that several gangs have targeted key
downtown neighborhoods and residential
districts. Citizens are advised to stay in
their homes, keep their doors locked and
outside lights on to help discourage would-be
vandals. If you see anyone suspicious, call
9-1-1 immediately. And to all parents, please
take your children home immediately, even if
they haven't finished trick or treating."
* * * * *
"Jeez, that sucks. You'd think they could keep the crime to
themselves, but noooooo..." Rally said, grabbing a can of
soda and opening it.
"Aw, c'mon, Rally, it's not like Detroit put up a tourism
board saying 'Go to Chicago! A new place to commit crime!'"
"I know, I know, I just wish it weren't happening," she said,
before slugging it back.
"Anyway, are we ready? Got the essentials?"
"Pop, chocolate, and cheezies...yup! C'mon, Ash! Kill the
Deadites!"
For the next hour or so, Rally and I sat watching the film,
Rally laughing and me shaking. Sure, movies scare me, but
that's part of the fun...it's fun being scared by a movie,
'cause you know it's make-believe and it's going to end.
We heard a police and ambulance drive the house during the
first hour of the movie, which was no big deal and we didn't
feel we had to get involved. But when we heard two-fisted
banging on our door, Rally got up while I paused the VCR.
I could see her face from where I sat, that she was surprised
and quickly unlocked the door. A young man in his early 20's
pretty much pushed her aside as he stumbled in and closed
the door behind him. I knew something was wrong when Rally
*and* the man were scrambling to put the locks back on.
"What's going on?" I asked before looking out the front
window. Bad mistake. The shotgun blast through the glass
nearly took my head off.
"Just what the hell is this about," Rally yelled at the man
as she grabbed her two-gun shoulder holster from the closet
and why did you bring it to our door?" Rally also grabbed
her own double barreled shotgun and tossed me my jacket and
bag of grenades.
"I was-" the man gasped, wheezing as he tried to compose
himself, "I was just walking down the street home from the
store, a few blocks over when a pickup truck came along. I
guess I was just the first available target." I'd say he
was non-descript, just a nine-to-fiver from the neighborhood
we hadn't noticed before. Hardly the type to deal with gun
toting gangs, so I'd say he was lucky to come to our door.
"Must be one of the Detroit gangs," I said, using my compact
mirror to peek out the window. "They're still there, and it
looks like they're getting ready to do something."
"I'm sorry I brought this on you," the man said, but once I
started running, your house was the first I saw with lights
still on."
"May, how many are there?"
"I'd say about eight, Rally, only two or three are packing."
"Good, easy enough to take out," Rally said back to me. To
our unexpected guest, she had other plans.
"You! What's your name?"
"Me?" he said wittily, "Vukol. I was-"
"What the hell is that, Russian?" Rally asked before shaking
her head, "Never mind. Far side of the room, get the phone
and call the police. And stay low." He nodded in reply,
shaking heavily as started on his hands and knees.
Rally quickly stood up, held the shotgun high, and fired
downward out the top window of the door. The blast wasn't
low enough that it would hit the bastards outside, but it
sure did scare them. Rally couldn't see the result of her
handiwork, but I could.
One of the gang must have also realized she couldn't see
because he climbed onto the cab of the truck, high enough to
see into the living room.
"GET DOWN!" I screamed at Vukol, reaching for his jacket,
but I was too late. The two rounds from the semi-auto were
already in Vukol's head, causing it to explode all over me
and the carpet before I even got near him.
I slumped backward on the wall, shock on my face as I could
only look at this poor slob, dead on our floor. I guess I
let emotions get the better of me because I threw a really
nasty concussion grenade over my head and out the window.
Screams from half of the gang told me I'd hit the mark.
A few more pistol blasts cracked the front wall and the
inside wall of the house as I hit the deck, one flying right
through the wall I'd been leaning against. It was obviously
cover fire, because the next thing I heard was the truck
starting up and driving off.
"MAY! Are you alright?" Rally yelled, leaning over me.
"I'm fine, Rally," I said with half a smile, "Though our
visitor isn't doing too good." I signalled toward him with
a thumb, and Rally nodded in acknowledgement.
"Come on, let's get going," she said, picking up the shotgun
again, a case of shells, and reaching for the garage remote.
"You can't be serious," I said. My face was deadpan, but
hers wasn't...she was pissed.
"They murder somebody, *and* shoot up the house? There's no
damned way I'm letting that slide!"
Somehow, I wish I'd talked her out of it. Not thirty seconds
later, we were in the Cobra and chasing them.
Shotgun blasts kept us from getting too close as we raced
after them, and as much as they're a pain in the ass most of
the time, we didn't see one police car on the way.
Not one friggin' car. Doing eighty miles and hour down
surface streets, and *nobody* calls the cops? Just what is
wrong with the people in this city?
Rally kept her guns holstered just in case we saw a cop, and
I sure can't throw faster than a moving vehicle, so all we
could do was chase and hope they'd crash eventually. First
through neighborhoods, shopping areas, high rises, out onto
the freeways. Despite us having the better car, a V8 pickup
is no slouch either and managed to stay ahead on straighter
roads...with a little help from some firecrackers they were
throwing at us, as well as their shotgun.
We must have gone more than ten miles, the streets and roads
all eerily dark; obviously most Chicagoans had more sense
than us (or fewer weapons) and were staying home, but with
so few lights on, even in the high rises, it was spooky.
Only the street lights were lit, as if to suggest "this is
the way to go"....
They finally got off the 126, east of the 90, and drove into
the industrial park where we followed. It was obvious once
we got there that vandals were having a field day in this
part of town. Fires amongst the trash, wrecked cars, street
lights broken, and everything black. It looked so cold and
evil.
"Rally, don't you think we should just give it up? It's
getting worse, and who knows how many of them are in there?"
"May, we're more than capable of taking care of ourselves,
and besides, without someone to blame, the police are going
to want an explanation about a dead body in our house." She
checked that her shotgun was loaded, and muttered something
I couldn't hear in her surprise.
"What'd you say, Rally?"
"Oh, nothing, I guess I must have instinctively reloaded
while we were driving."
We soon found the truck abandoned, smashed after running
headlong into an ATM machine, and two of the passengers in
the back dead from the impact. Driving slowly, we kept our
eyes open for sight of anyone on the streets or in the burnt
out buildings. We covered several blocks without sight of
anything or anyone, and only the sound of the engine's low
rumbling, the crunch of concrete chunks under tires, the
crackling of flames from fires. Absolutely nothing.
Until, of course, a large piece of concrete fell beside the
car. Rally floored it away and I could see through the back
window two of the gang on a roof fifty feet up.
"Shit, we'd be dead if that had hit us!"
"Really, May?" Rally asked sarcastically, before doing a
one-eighty at the next intersection, "I would never have
noticed." She obviously didn't get her own unintentional
pun.
Her gun out the window and back driving toward the building,
Rally fired at the two, hitting one in the chest and sending
him falling off the roof while the other ducked for cover.
In the meantime, another truck drove down the street toward
us, trying to force us to move right and into the concrete
block in a game of chicken.
"Wrong guess, turkey," Rally said before swinging left at
the last second and around the truck. At the same time, I
tossed in grenade in the truckbed as we passed, and we could
see the driver and passenger quickly dive out as the vehicle
went out of control and into the corner of a building and
exploding just before impact.
Another man stepped out in front of us the next block down
carrying a shotgun, so Rally instinctively used our momentum
to turn the car around the right hand corner and away from
the action.
Big mistake.
Because of the cornering speed, we barely avoided a burning
wreck of a car and swerved away just in time. But we had
too much speed, and hit a flipped-over car not fifty feet
beyond the burning one.
Our front left corner was light and the bumper higher than
it would have been if we were going straight. When we hit
the wreck, our front left tire was exposed and caught the
bumper of the flipped car. As if it was carefully planned,
the overturned car acted like a ramp and the Cobra's left
side went up in the air.
Driving on two wheels, Rally desperately fought to control
the car, but when we hit the next ruined car, it was too
much. We flipped over, sliding down the street another
fifty feet before the sparks from the roof stopped. I
guess I was screaming because Rally slapped me.
"COME ON! GET OUT!" Rally shouted, tugging at my sleeve as
flames shot up from the gas tank. With my eyes wide open
now, I scrambled out of the car, just remembering in time to
grab my bag of tricks. Not just because we needed them, but
I knew if they blew up we wouldn't be able to run away fast
enough.
Rally must have been hurt in the crash because she limped
down the street as we ran. It was then we realized how bad
things were as what we thought was an eight man gang showed
themselves to be a forty man army. With only one choice, we
headed toward the neared open concrete storefront. If we
couldn't run, at least we wouldn't be smoked out of hiding.
We both dove through the broken window just before another
shotgun blast flew overhead. Rally quickly bounced to her
knees and fired again and again. While I threw a few bombs
out into the street, Rally switched guns and reloaded. She
swore something fierce when she heard her precious Shelby
explode. She also swore at something else as she reloaded,
although we were a little to busy for me to ask what.
As much as neither of us liked it, we were mass killing these
people. Criminals or not, we didn't want to kill anybody,
but it wasn't a choice anymore. This was survival. Judging
by a rough head and intestine count, we must have shot or
blown up sixty or so of these bastards.
"Having fun, ladies?"
Stepping out from the shadows of our makeshift bunker, a
non-descript man spoke with a calm voice and smile on his
face. Rally only looked at him for a second before firing
into the crowd again, but I was too scared to look anywhere
but at him and how he mopped his brow with a cloth.
"Don't worry, the front is the only way into the building,
so you needn't concern yourselves with being attacked from
behind. Well, I'll leave you to it. Oh, in case you were
curious, it means 'herder'," he said as he stepped in front
of us and out the broken window, dropping the bloodied
handkerchief on the ground behind him.
The thugs outside seemed totally uninterested in him as he
sauntered down the street, whistling. The crowd outside
just grew and grew and set their full attention on us.
"Rally, I've still got plenty of grenades, how about you?"
"May, Shut up and keep throwing." Her face was tense, teeth
gritted as she continued to shoot and kill the gang members.
"I'm just asking, Rally, I just wanted to know if you're
running out."
"Shut up, May!" Rally shouted, firing again and again, both
guns blazing.
"But, Rally, when we left the house I only had-"
"SHUT UP, MAY!" Rally was screaming at the top of her voice
now, tears streaming from her eyes. Though she would never
admit to it, she knew what I was thinking because she didn't
even pretend anymore.
Without reloading, she was firing ten, twenty, thirty, forty,
fifty bullets non-stop from each gun. Gang members outside
died again and again, but just kept being replaced with more
and more. It was getting worse, not better, with no sign of
any way out. I was sorely tempted by then to hang on to one
of these grenades instead of throwing it onto the street,
just to see what would happen to us. But I didn't.
And that was how we got here. Unlike horror movies where you
know there's going to be an ending, we didn't. But what else
can we do but keep firing and killing them? After all...
It's hell night.
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End.
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"Sinister Purpose"
(written by John Fogerty,
as recorded by Creedence Clearwater Revival)
When the sky is gray
And the moon is hazed
I'll be down to get you
Roots of earth will shake
Sinister purpose
Knockin' at your door
Come, and take my hand
Burn away the goodness;
You and I remain
Did you see the last war?
Well, here I am again!
Sinister purpose
Knockin' at your door
Come, and take my hand
I can set you free
Make you rich and wise
We can live forever
Look into my eyes...
Sinister purpose
Knockin' at your door
Come, and take my hand
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Notes:
1. I consider this a sort-of rough draft, so if there's any
comments, feel free to tell me.
2. I don't hate Rally or May, this was just a good idea. ^_^