Finally doing some C+C:

  "You know, if Chris really is holed up in a building around
here, he's definitely going to be surrounded. You said you heard
him say that there were two targets in the city and one on Lanz
Island? Where is he?"

Probably getting shot at. :)

  "The first target was the new IMHR building where we
were found by White and Rufie. But like you said there

said, there (I think)

  The driver, a tall skinny guy, took of his hat and wiped the
sweat off his forehead. "Hey!" he yelled at me. "You better shut
the fuck up before you get your ass nailed to the wall for
insubordination! What are you two doing out this late? Don't you
know a curfew has been put into effect? I want some I.D. right
now!"

Screw: I'm not a forger. I can't make an I.D, for you. Sorry.

  His partner, an obese Italian with a dirty gray beard was
grinning stupidly and pointing his spot light right in my face,
making it hard for me to see anything.

Actually, that's why you shine a light in people's faces. :)

  The tall cop finally got the clear plastic sheets out, and
leafed through them under of the spotlight. Seeing that they were
empty, he searched all the other pockets quickly, starting to frown.

  "Hey!" he said raising his voice. "There's no I.D. in here!
Or anything else except--out of date condoms!"

Cop: Can I have a couple?

  "Two..." Zig whispered.

  "Hey, fuck you too, buddy!" I yelled.

  My heart was in my throat as I lashed out and hit the man's
shoulder, spinning him around directly into the spot light.

spotlight

 He

squealed and raised both his hands to block out the glare. Zig,
without hesitating and in one swift movement, snapped the snap
and grabbed the officer's gun out of its holster while yelling
"Three!" into my ear. I gunned my engine and we shot forward, the
siren suddenly wailing behind us.

  I shifted up through the gears until we were going 135
down the deserted lanes of the Plaza's main strip. Neon lights and
the occasional bloodshot eyes of drunks hiding in shadows stared
back

He can see bloodshot eyes hiding in shadows going 135?

  I put my foot slowly on the break and pointed ahead. As
Broadway crested a low rise, multiple flashing lights greeted us
from barriers blocking all six lanes. When they cleared the horizon,
I counted four cruisers, three motorcycles, and a police-converted
semi. There were a hoard of cops milling around, all carrying
shotguns and riot shields. Zig gasped.

  "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! They must have Dammed

I don't think that needs capitalized.

 the

whole upper east side! I didn't realize how close we were to the
fires! Look, you can see em!"

Screw: Well quit jawing and get some marshmallows.

  And I could. Around a mile and a half distant was City
Hall, the capitol building, and it was burning too brightly to look
at. That was where the Mandate did all of it's

its

professional work,

and where they lived when they stayed off the Island. I bet a whole
mess of them had been killed when that place went up. I
remembered White telling me that many had been captured too.

  Christ I wouldn't want to be them right now,

Actually, I doubt Screw wants to be himself right now either. :)

  "No!! Are you insane?! You shot at the cops! If they catch
you, you'll be executed in the street!"

  "That's why I'm not going to get caught.

Screw: Oh, right then. Off you go, dead weight.

Get out of here,

and go find Chris. I'll meet you there on foot. Unless I steal a
cruiser."

  I tried to find the right words, but all that came out was
"You idiot!"

Those are pretty much the right words.

  I walked under the single streetlight, and blinked a few
times. The brat with the rifle cocked his head, and then whispered
something to his partner. I suddenly realized that these two could
be Taurs who remembered my face.

Oh? When did he leave any of them alive?

That wouldn't be pretty. My

eyes darted around, looking for a weapon--nothing but cardboard--
shit!

Have to kill them with paper cuts.

  He started walking toward the end of the alley, and the
other gang boy followed. I did the same, now with conviction.
After the sleeves of my blue one got burned, I had picked
up my old 'Raging Bull' jacket from my locker at the track. Red
and black kevlar; wouldn't stop a bullet, but it was the best fabric
for preventing road rash. More importantly it was Das Uberdog's
colors. (I should know, I picked them myself a long time ago.)

Oh? He helped found them or something? Makes it sounds like he personally
chose them.

  My god, I was even younger than I was yesterday. I wasn't
surprised either, because Screw had been the oldest person I had
ever been. My jaw even looked like it was widening. I was still just
as tall, but no longer thin. Flexing my arm in the mirror I was
pleased to see real definition. I took breath and stretched my neck.
I felt younger too. The name Richter was bringing with it the form
I had back then. My environment taking its effects. Excellent.

True. It is going to help him now.

  The only problem was that soon even my friends would
have difficulty recognizing me. I wouldn't

It

to view those sitting in booths. Usually the only man carrying a
on my beer reached its peak volume, I scanned the faces around
me. No one looked especially trustworthy, but a large bald freak in
the corner betrayed a odd

an odd

  "Rick. Well, I guess you do look a little familiar." He pried
the top off the bottle and took a drink.

  I grabbed another from the bar and did the same. "What's
your name again?"

  "I'm the Stitch, and as anyone can tell you, I'm one toxic
mother fucker." He looked proud to introduce himself. "All the
rumors you must've heard are true."

Screw: You're a pansy that bleeds easily and screams like a little bitch?

Stitch: Yup.

  "It's a German rifle, a Heckler and Koch PSG-7 loaded
with 7.62 mm 'Riot Busters.' Thick, long, single shot rifle rounds
that'll pierce those bulletproof glass shields Shock Troopers carry.
You'll need arms like tractors, but I bet you can handle it."

  I blinked. "I don't think that's quite the gun I need to sneak
around with. What else you got?"

  "Well if your delicate sensibilities can't handle a

drop 'a'

  Across the thirty or forty feet of metal dome, Chris stood
alone looking away from me. I could tell it was him by the short
blond hair, rolled up sleeves, and five or six pistols strapped
around his thighs.

Mighty big thighs he has. :)

  The temperature dropped another degree. It would be a cold
night. Depending on how it went, I might find time to curl up with
my girl.

  The thought only made me shiver. I waited still.

  Finally, Chris's shoulders slumped slightly and his head
tilted back. Slowly, as if coming out of a standing, staring trance.
My eyes widened as he turned around. The leather straps on his
holsters had all come undone, and flapped in the wind. If I wasn't
sure at first, I knew now. His face told me all my plans had become
senseless.

Yep. I'd say so. Should be interesting to see what happens next. Nice
cliffhanger to end it on.

D.B. Sommer

             .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
             | Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
             | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
             |     Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject     |
             `---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'