Cost of Labor

When we left the office building, it was not quite dawn, but close to it.

'Let's not scale the wall again, okay?' I said, looking at the slowly brightening sky. 'Is there a gate close by?'

Mickey nodded somberly and led the way.

'What are you thinking about?'

He shook his head.

'Stuff. Don't worry about it.'

'Okay.'

A few seconds later, he sighed.

'I mean, it's fucking stupid how little we know.'

'About what?'

'Ourselves, man! How did you say it? You weren't sure when the Disease is supposed to start supercharging your Ability? Seems like a thing we should know, being that all wraiths are obsessed with the fucking thing. But really, we know close to nothing, about anything.'

'Well... it's not like you can ask a sick wraith about it.'

'Have you tried?!'

My face darkened.

'Yes, Mickey, I have.'

He paused for a moment.

'Fine. Forget about what I said.'

The gate was closed with a chain, but we managed to squeeze through the slit. Now all we had to do was return to the alley and get into the car.

We were halfway there when three figures stepped from the shadows to block our path. At the same time, someone appeared behind us, closing off the way back.

Crap.

My heart skipped a beat, but then I relaxed a little. It was just some local gang, not the PA. Man, how did my life come to this? Since when was being ambushed by a gang in the middle of the night an okay turn of events?

'You two are lost, fucking wraiths?'

It took me a moment of abject horror to realize that the tall guy talking to us -- he had a gold chain around his neck and bloodshot eyes of a drug addict -- didn't know what we were. He was just trying to be rude to a couple of strangers, using the word "wraith" as a curse.

Mickey had to crane his neck to look the thug in the eye. The local was probably twice his size.

Oh, shit. I really hoped that he wasn't going to say something...

'Why don't you go fuck yourself, fuckwit?' Mickey said with a deadpan face.

Oh, no.

There was a moment of complete silence, and then the thugs started to laugh.

'Oh, man. The blondie has a temper, huh, guys? Should we teach the little bitch some manners?'

The tall thug made a step forward, putting his hand in the pocket.

I couldn't allow this to escalate any further, because if it did, someone could get seriously hurt. But mainly, getting into fights was strictly against my rules: stay out of trouble and avoid notice, at all cost. I broke them already by coming to the museum, and I wasn't going to get into a fight near it. So I put my hand on Mickey's shoulder and said:

'Uh... sorry, guys. We're not looking for any trouble. If we could just...'

'Seems to me like you are lost after all, dude. But you know what? Despite your friend's behavior, we are willing to, like, show you the way. For a small fee, of course. Ammaright, boys?'

The other three thugs started laughing again.

'Now, what would be a fair price, huh? How about, I don't know... every fucking cent you have? That'll be fair, yeah?'

I felt Mickey muscles go tense under my fingers. I squeezed.

'Yeah, man. That does sound, uh, fair.'

Mickey looked at me in disbelief.

'The fuck are you talking about?!'

'Just give him your fucking money, asshole!'

He glared at me, his nostrils flaring. Then spat, and reached into his pocket.

We didn't have much, but the thugs seemed pleased with their haul. The leader licked his finger and counted the bills, smiling.

'Well, well. You two must be the two poorest dumb fucks I've ever seen. You're not holding out on me, are you?'

I shook my head, and Mickey growled:

'Do we fucking look rich to you?'

'Nah, but you're not local, and fuckers like you only come to this part of town to score some dope. And dope ain't cheap.'

I cursed internally.

'That's all we have.'

He looked at me with doubt and then nodded.

'Yeah, I believe you.'

Thank fucking God.

I was starting to believe that we're going to be okay, and then the bastard added:

'But, you see, me and the guys have to be compensated for our labor anyway. So we'll take your coats, I guess.'

Mickey closed his eyes and sighed.

'What did you say?'

'I said: take off your stupid green...'

Mickey charged at him before I had time to say 'fuck!'.

Things happened very quickly after that.

The first thing that happened was Mickey's fist connecting to the thug's jaw with a loud thud. He must have used the Ability to do something to his hand, because the tall jerk flew through the air and crashed on the ground a meter or two away.

The other three thugs jumped us.

The one facing me was a little bit away. He was taking a running start to reach me, so I had a second to act. I threw an affect on his left leg, making it heavier, and another one on his right leg, making it lighter. He stumbled with a surprised yelp and fell face first in the dirt.

The was a loud crack from somewhere to my right, but I had no time to check on Mickey, because the guy that had been behind us was about to send my teeth flying. I dodged and kicked him in the side.

Fuck. Bastard was, like, made of pure muscle. He didn't even slow down for a second.

Now, at this point, I had a hundred ways of breaking him apart into small pieces. But making it without anyone realizing that I was using the Ability, that was a challenge. Plus, I didn't want to hurt him too badly.

So, instead, I took a step back and sent a world-turning affect his way.

In terms of power, it was an insignificant fragment of what I used before to walk up the wall. But I wasn't trying to send him falling into the sky, I was just trying to disorient him. It worked splendidly: the thug froze in place, just for a moment, but it was all I needed. Before he could realize that down was down again, and up was up, I pushed him off balance. The thug tripped on his friend, who was beginning to try to stand up, and fell on top of him.

I spun, looking for Mickey. He was kicking his second opponent in the ribs, screaming obscenities.

'Run, you psycho!'

I dragged him a few feet, and then he got the idea and turned to run beside me.

'Eat shit, fuckers!'

We sprinted for a few blocks, not stopping to check if any of them were pursuing us. Mickey jumped into the driver's seat and started the engine.

'Drive! Drive!'

He sent the car flying, and I had to grab the dashboard.

'Speed limit, dude! We don't want to get pulled over by the police!'

He turned to me, a wild grin on his face.

'I'm not an amateur, Matthew. Relax.'

Right. After what just happened, how the fuck was I supposed to relax?