Chapter Thirty-Four

Her body drops on the snowed floor with a muted splatter, the red of her blood instantly seeps through, staining every bit of snow while I, a few feet away, try not to puke anymore.

"Wow…" I hear Austin exclaim, his hands set on his head and his mouth agape, "You really killed her."

Wiping my mouth I reply, "You asked me to, was I not supposed to? Don't fucking tell me you were joking."

Tears threaten to break through my eyes, I'm not sure why either but the salt of it stings and all I want to do is let it all out.

But I can't, I sniffle and wipe my eyes and mouth.

"Oh no, she needs to be dead, thoroughly so. I just thought you wouldn't be able to do it. After last night I mean…"

This fucking…

"If you had doubts I'd be able to do it why the fuck did you ask me to? We could have gotten killed or something!"

He shrugs and squats over her stone still body and begins to pilfer her pockets, "I honestly thought you'd do your kneecapper thing again, pop out her kneecaps and elbows, leave her writhing in pain and I'd finish the job." he shakes his head as he chuckles lightly, "But you actually did it. Well done."

His approval of my actions only makes me abhor it all the more.

"What are you doing?" I breathe, "Shouldn't we be on the move, I don't think my shot went unheard."

He nods but keeps piling things out of the woman's pockets. He's stripped her of her helmet already and taken something that looks like a candy bar out of her wrist guard.

"I didn't hear anything, but that's probably because you're a speedster right?" he looks up at me, asking for confirmation.

I pause for a second, looking down at him as he rummages through her pockets, "I'm sorry, are we really talking about my powers right now? We need to go. I'm not killing anyone else!"

We're right out in the open, exposed in a field of white, standing right beside an ugly large van and the rapidly cooling body of an official.

Still he nods, and at last he gets up and waves the candy bar thing from her wrist guard. "I get you, but if there are any Suppressors on our tail this will tell us." he proceeds to toss the object to me and I barely catch it. "Keep an eye on it."

We get into the van and start moving once again, leaving the Suppressors body in the cold of snow.

I'm not sure when she'll be found but that's not really what I want to think about right now, rather my attention is split between the road we've swerved off of and the communication device in my hand.

It's a golden brown colour and has a slim rectangular screen with buttons on the body.

Displayed on the screen is pretty much a map that shows our current changing location. With a press of a button the map expands a bit and projects a holo, giving a full view of the location of the Suppressors comrades.

There are a lot of them gathered far away from where we're headed and just one in the direction we're headed.

"Austin, there's a Suppressor up ahead, in the direction we're taking!" I yell out over the rumbling and aching of the van.

Not only am I not going to be killing anyone, I'm certainly not in any mood to be killed either. A majority of Suppressors are metas, there's a huge chance I just killed a meta but seeing as I'm not in a manic killer mood right now, it's more likely I'm going to be killed by the Suppressor up ahead if we don't stop.

"Austin!" I yell out again as he failed to respond the first time, "Did you hear what I said? There's a meta up ahead, stop the van!"

"Vern relax, Austin knows what he's doing."

I barely register Rex's voice or words as looking out the window I can already make out a figure in the snow.

Fuck.

"Aust-!"

"Shut it Vern!" he scolds, violently hitting the breaks, "We're at the meeting place. That's our guy, that's our outsider."

"Oh…"

"Just get out there and get the package, we don't have much time." he says, letting out a tired, exhausted sigh.

Right. It's high noon now and he's been driving since morn.

Deciding to cut the man some slack and indeed relax as best as I can, I nod and get out of the van, making sure to keep a feel out for my weapon neatly tucked behind my trousers, just in case.

It takes all of seven steps to walk within inspecting range of them. It's a man, he's got a shawl over his head, presumably to cover the ugly scar that streaks across his face, from his left eye down to his chin.

He's reasonably tall and beneath the shawl I have little doubt he's a ripped, fit figure, be that from the stereotype scarred men have or the feeling of danger screaming off of him.

"Do you have the product?" I say, my voice comfortably above a whisper. I've learned that greetings and pleasantries mattered for little with these kinds of men, although there are some who are fanatic about the way you address them.

The man doesn't speak, he looks away from me and to the similar looking rectangular Suppressor device I have in my hand, his voice letting out a clattering robotic screech that pierces my ears.

My immediate reaction is to reach for my weapon but soon I see what the screech represents.

Over in the distance, the light of the setting sun, dim as it is, shimmers. The shimmer is pulled back and over several heads and folded like material.

Invisibility cloaks.

A large sheet of fabric knitted with cloaking technology.

That's some high tech… just who are these guys..

The people hidden under the cloak run over to the scarred man in front of me. I soon find out as they close in from the distance, they're all women.

Around seven or eight of them all dressed up in dinner outfits line up behind the scarred man. I realize just what the van is for now.

A woman, not dressed like the others walks up to the man and whispers something, he nods and the woman begins to holler at the girls.

"Alright girls, time to get a move on, get on the bus, this is just our first stop!"

As she orders, the girls start moving to the van. Left in stupor the scarred man begins another robotic screeching.

The woman nods and looks my way, "He says he expects his cut, and he's checked the market so he wants no excuses on his pay." With that said they start walking off.

My mouth hangs open at what's transpired.

"Hey Vern! Let's get a move on, there are still Suppressors roaming!"

Right.

As I turn and walk back to the van now packed up with women, I can't help looking back at the two. The woman and the scarred man.

Did they really… did I really just…?

I don't have much time to think about the implications of what exactly just happened, on the nature of the transaction that just occurred because I'm instinctively ducking down with my hands over my head at the high-pitched pinging sound of a bullet penetrating something.

Shock rocks through me. The bullet seems to have come out of thin air at first but as I lift up my head and look around; all over, I quickly find that it could have come from anywhere, particularly any of the many directions several armed individuals have taken. We're surrounded.

The wind billows above and my hair is tossed about, there are vehicles descending, far above our heads with men dressed in uniformed blue and black jumping off of them with ropes.

The police. What are they doing here!

At the first notion that we've been betrayed, my head swings back to the two, the man with the robotic voice and the woman, but only just in time to see them vanish into thin air under their cloak.

Fuck!

"On your knees!"

"Hands on your head!"

Fuck!