21st Century Orc Page 8

  As slow as ice, the fires raging within her, Gore aimed her flare gun at the cop’s heart. Her finger itched. Kill. The murderous intent crawled out of the darkest folds of Gore’s mind, a part of Gore awakened by the road rage. Kill.

  Kill the bastard. Make him pay in blood for the countless brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers lost to their blood-soaked claws. Hands trembling, breath ragged, Gore began squeezing the trigger. The world slowed down, silent and still. Waiting for blood.

  The cop lowered his gun.

  Gore blinked, finger lifting from the trigger. She gasped for breath, clutched her chest as her eyes flashed black. Why?

  A jagged smile the only answer to her question, the cop muttered into his walkie-talkie, “Just some drakes, I’m gonna—”

  Before the cop could finish, Bones fired.

  The shot rang through the parking lot, slicing through the silence as the bullet rammed into the cop’s shoulder, impact spinning him around as the bullet casing clattered against the Magnum Orcus, Debbie screaming as the cop flopped to the ground.

  For a eternity, the world fell quiet. A eternity that lasted half a second before all hell broke loose.

  Not pausing, ripping her gaze away from the cop, Gore slammed the accelerator. The Magnum Orcus roared to life, rushing out from its hiding place. As the Magnum Orcus smashed through their ranks, the other cops opened fire. Each bullet threw Magnum Orcus to the side, the massive slugs tearing through the armor like paper. Gore didn’t care. Neither did the Magnum Orcus.

  “Hold on!” gasped Gore, whipping the wheel right and left, weaving the Magnum Orcus through the abandoned factories.

  “Stop the vehicle!” barked a rough voice. “Stop the vehicle or I will blow your brains out, you jagding Greenskin!”

  Gore snapped her head to her left. A cop clung to the side of the Magnum Orcus. His revolver glared down between Gore’s eyes. For a split second, cold fear leapt up to consume Gore.

  Blight.

  Snarling, the fires within her roaring defiance, Gore jerked the wheel to the side and slammed the Magnum Orcus into an abandoned bulldozer. Metal screamed, bones crushing. The cop’s revolver roared, light blinding Gore. Bells like in the Shakaar cathedrals rung in her skull. Her head spinning about, Gore wove through the wobbling towers, blinking away afterimages. Gore’s eyes rolled up into her skull. Somewhere in the distance, left behind, the cop roared and fired the rest of his bullets into the back of the Magnum Orcus.

  Blight.

  The Magnum Orcus flew out onto the beach.

  “No! Wait, not that way!” barked Bones as he leaned over the side of the roof. “We need to get away from here! To the Narrows!”

  Gore turned to the Magnum Orcus back to the lights of Tao Ein, flooring the accelerator once more. She just hoped she had enough gas.

  “By the Forge Master…” whispered Debbie, causing Gore to turn around.

  In the distance, the rest of the criminals gathered to watch the race fought against an army of cops. Bullets and magic flew through the night sky. Lights fighting back the darkness.

  A losing fight as darkness surged at the edges of Gore’s vision. Her entire body freezing all at once, Gore collapsed. The world spun around Gore. Blinking, growling, her gaze turned downward, drawn through the whirlwind to a dark stain spreading across her stomach.

  “Oh shit,” said Gore as she clutched her stomach. Her foot fell away from the accelerator. She raised her hand to the moonlight. Red covered her hand. “Yup, that’s blood. Ugh, and I just cleaned the seats.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Kiss my ass

  “Oh shit!” screamed Debbie somewhere in the dark. “Gore’s down! Bones, you got to—”

  Her mind swimming in a sea, swept away by alternating waves of ice and pain, her entire body going numb, every breath a struggle, Gore blinked and reached out, her claws sinking into soft flesh. She held tight.

  Debbie gurgled.

  “Shit. She’s hallucinating! Sis! You have to let go!” barked Bones, his face jumping into Gore’s view. His hands wrapped around her wrist. Hard hands covered with calluses and blood. “You have to let go!”

  “Don’t you… jagding touch… me, Bones. You… traitor…” Gore gasped through a mouth full of blood. A small part of Gore’s mind explained that was bad. Then her eyes rolled back into her skull and Gore’s grip faded, her hand smashing against metal.

  “What? Why’d she say that?” asked Debbie, her face replacing Bones’s. Warm flesh pressed against Gore’s stomach. Gore looked down. Debbie planted her hands into Gore’s stomach. The dwarf’s yellow hands were stained red with blood.

  Gore’s blood.

  “It’s a long story,” said Bones, his voice fading. A moment later, the Magnum Orcus roared, drowning out Bones’s breath. The car rumbled beneath Gore’s body.

  Reaching out for her car, Gore agreed, “Traitor… why’d you… sell… abandon…”

  “Wait, what?”

  “It’s a long story,” repeated Bones. Then he burped, “Now, we need to find a doctor somewhere. I haven’t the faintest clue. Been a while since I was back in the Narrows… wonder if the Marrow-Masher’s still active.”

  “You’re gonna take her to a underground doctor?” demanded Debbie, taking her hands off Gore for a split second. Gore gasped, her heartbeat weakening.

  “They’re our best bet. Cause if you haven’t noticed, we can’t exactly take Gore to a regular doctor. I’m not even sure if she has medical insurance,” burped Bones, looking over his shoulder. He gave her a thin-lipped smile. “D’ya?”

  “Don’t…” gasped Gore, closing her eyes once more.

  “See! Even she agrees!” Then Bones cursed, “Blight! What are you doing? Keep pressure on the wound or she’ll bleed out!”

  “Shit!” cursed Debbie. Her eyes curled in shock and she pressed her hands to her mouth. Then she gasped again, “Shit!”

  And Debbie took her hands away from her now-stained face, leaning her entire body against Gore’s chest. Gore gasped. Almost no difference.

  “That’s better! Now keep it like that while I find us a doctor that might not kill us for our sploobocks,” snarled Bones. The Magnum Orcus swerved.

  As darkness verged on the edge of Gore’s vision, Debbie shook her head and reached out to caress Gore’s cheek. She growled, “No. Wait, I know someone who can help…”

  Before Debbie could finish, Gore plunged back into darkness.

  When she awoke, the soft golden glow of streetlights blinked above her. Gore glanced about. Concrete houses crowded the burning night sky. She couldn’t find the moons through the smog.

  “How much further?” asked Bones just as the Magnum Orcus jumped. “Shit. Pothole. Shitty maintenance crews.”

  “Wait! That was a homeless person!” gasped Debbie.

  “Whatever,” burped Bones as Gore turned her head to the side. A dark mass retreated in the distance. “Shitty homeless services then.”

  Broken eyes followed Gore. The same eyes as Gore’s. Eyes full of rejection and desperate desire for meaning in this world.

  The broken mass swirled, twisting into a different shape before Gore’s very eyes. Whispers echoed down the street. The dead pressed against the world of the living as a ghost of Gore’s past pressed on the line between the two. Gore gasped, “Mother… why’d you… why’d they…”

  “Oh shit! She’s delusional again!” gasped Debbie. “Speed up!”

  “What, you want me to run over more homeless people?” demanded Bones. “Make up your mind!”

  Beating the top of the hood, Debbie hissed, “Argh! Wait! Turn here! He’s just a few blocks down!”

  Gore chuckled as she fell into darkness one more time.

  High-pitched screaming unlike anything she had ever heard before pulled her back. Gore winced. She looked through the spikes protruding from the Magnum Orcus’s back. A small halfling screamed from an opened door. White shard-light spilled out behind him, painting him in shadow
s. The screaming lasted about a minute.

  Until Debbie slapped him across the face and hissed, “Fin! Shut up!”

  “Wha-what, what the heck, what the heck is happening?” gasped the halfling as he stumbled back out of view. “Why’d you bring a bleeding orc to my apartment?”

  “Because she’s literally bleeding!” snarled Debbie, advancing on the halfling as Gore’s body lifted into the air.

  Bones cradled Gore in his withered arms, his entire face turning red from effort.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit,” cursed Gore’s brother as he stumbled up the steps. “Why didn’t I workout more in the ‘university?’ I could’ve gotten so buff.”

  “Jagd off…” mumbled Gore, struggling to break from her brother’s filthy grasp, trying to summon all her strength. She had none. “Hate…”

  “Adorable as always, sis,” murmured Bones, his eyes diving black, clouding over with emotions. The reflection in her brother’s eyes was the only light in Gore’s vision as Bones carried her into the halfling’s immaculate house. Then white consumed her.

  “Where can we put her?” asked Debbie from somewhere ahead.

  Gore blinked, looking around at the impossibly clean home. No. It couldn’t be called a home. Too clean. Too clean… Gore fell deeper.

  “Wait, wait, wait! I didn’t even agree to help you treat a jagding Greenskin!” cried the halfling.

  “What did you just call her?” demanded Debbie, her voice cracking. “Take that back! Now!”

  “Shit! Both of you! We don’t have time for this shit!” snarled Bones, setting Gore down on a cool surface. “Shut up and treat her or I’m gonna tear off your throat!”

  “B-but…” began the halfling.

  Debbie shouted, “I’m calling in a favor, Fin! How about you tie up that bundle of nerves you call a brain and get to work?”

  “I-I, um… where do I begin?” asked the halfling, appearing above Gore’s face.

  “You’re a medical student, right?” asked Bones as he pulled a bundle out of his coat and bit into it. Wriggling crumbs fell on Gore’s face. “Medicine it.”

  “That’s not how medicine works! I’m a dental student! Not a ER doctor! How am I—”

  “Figure it out,” growled Bones. “Or I swear, I will burn down this entire world along with you and all the miserable reprobates who inhabit it. Get to work now~”

  “Ohgodsohgodsohgodsohgods,” screamed the halfling as he scurried away. In the distance, he screamed, “Why’d he put her on the jagding dinner table?”

  “Well, now that that’s taken care of, you can hold down the fort right? Cause I’m gonna go get high as jagd,” muttered Bones as he stumbled to the door. “Don’t try and find me.”

  “Good… rid…” muttered Gore as she started falling back into darkness. “Traitor…"

  “What happened to you guys?” asked Debbie.

  Bones burped, “Don’t ask.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Interlude

  Wiping the blood from his hands as he walked out of the alley, the Orc breathed in the cool air for a few blissful moments and tried to collect himself. He failed. The war flashed in front of him once more before he downed another handful of Blight bug. Then he glanced back into the alley. Over a dozen criminals lay dismembered behind him, their red blood covering the walls. The Orc sighed as he glanced up with fading red eyes at the Dwarven townhouses. White paint smeared with red.

  Such a nice neighborhood too.

  After the race in Roomenya and the ambush by the police, several Warboyz and other gang members had tried hunting down the unaffiliated racers in a attempt to track down the mole. Including the female orc named Gore and her idiot brother Bones.

  The Orc couldn’t let that happen.

  Not yet. He still had uses for the girl. Momma G needed the girl to be alive.

  But now was not the time for Gore. He had a new girl in mind. Though new wasn’t the best adjective for the ancient matron.

  The Orc strode through the empty streets, through flickering pools of glint light as he marched his way into the dingier parts of the Dwarven District, right on the edge of the Narrows. He ended his journey standing outside of a mechanic shop nestled inside a old warehouse. Graffiti ran across the corrugated sides depicting orcs riding on dragons and spiders, fighting all manner of beasts with chime-hammers and rocket launchers. Artistic. If one thought such unrefined images could be art.

  It’d been a while since the Orc used a paint other than blood to mark his territories.

  A demon train rumbled above the shop, muffling the hammering and whirring of machines from within. The Orc glanced to the side of the shop. Dozens of young orcs scrounged through a graveyard of cars and other vehicles.

  He whistled. His aunt had become quite successful.

  The Orc, his eyes turning white in fear, paused and reached into his pocket for a quick hit to calm his nerves.

  Ah… his last batch of Blight bug.

  Chewing the raw Blight bug in his mouth and then spitting out the remains onto the gravel, the Orc started walking towards the mechanic shop.

  A stray drake hissed as he approached. The little dragon’s wings flaring, the drake crouched low, baring its fangs. Though his eyes turned dark, the orc snorted and continued on his way into the shop. The drake followed him.

  However, the hiss drew attention from one of the orcs working within the shop. The young mechanic took a look at the Orc, the mechanic’s eyes flashing red, and grabbed a ripper ball bat studded with Shasta claws, moving to intercept before the orc could breach any further.

  Stopping in his tracks, the Orc raised an eyebrow as he peered at his doppelgänger. Minus the scars and tattoos, of course.

  “Huh. I never knew I looked so ugly,” slurred the Orc, his eyes diving into black. A broad smile split his face.

  “Get back, drunk!” snarled the young mechanic, raising his bat. “Go look for scraps somewhere else.”

  “Wow! Wow! Wow!” gasped the Orc as he spat out a shell of Blight bug. He stepped forward, eyes wide, blood boiling at the accusation. “I am not a drunk! I gave that up a—”

  The young mechanic swung his bat and caught the Orc in the side.

  Red filled the Orc’s vision as he tumbled, crashing into a bin of discarded parts. He coughed up blood. Lips curled back into a smile. He deserved this.

  “Marrow!” snarled a deep voice from further within the machine shop.

  The Orc glanced up. All work had stopped and all eyes had turned to a large orc matron marching through the shop. Sparks bounced off a wyvern tattoo dancing across her scarred skin. She bore silver on her tusks, and iron in her eyes. The matron was one of the few orcs to make it to old age, and that alone made her one of the most dangerous beings on the continent. Not a woman the Orc, or any orc with more than two brain cells, should cross.

  So the Orc just laughed through a mouthful of blood, “Aunt! It’s been so long!”

  He reached into his coat and grabbed his rifle. Just in case.

  “What?” demanded the young mechanic as he twirled the bat up for another swing. “He’s out of his mind like One-eyed Knuckles. You can see the dragon blood tainting his veins. We need to get rid of him before he does any damage.”

  “Wait. Stop, Marrow.” The orc matron grabbed the mechanic’s bat and crushed the metal in her claws. She narrowed her eyes. “I heard of you,” growled the orc matron as she bent down and offered a hand. “What do you need?”

  Letting go of his rifle, his eyes steeling grey, the Orc smiled and growled, “I need your help. Or rather, Momma G needs your ‘help’ with these racers. You remember Bones and Gore?”

  The orc matron frowned.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Not completely useless

  Blinking death from her eyes, groaning like a collapsing building, her body battered like a building that already collapsed, Gore awoke to find herself in a sterile world devoid of everything good and joyful. She lay on the floor of a small living
room. Cold enamel pressed up against her back. White walls, floors and ceiling surrounded Gore. Books lining the walls without even the smallest speck of dust. Nothing out of order.

  Except for her blood. Crimson splotches trailed away from Gore to the door.

  “What the… argh…” hissed Gore, clutching her stomach. She noted with surprise that she wore a new shirt, one with guns and roses emblazoned across the front. Blight bug wafted off the cloth. Gore reached beneath, her fingers running across an absurd number of stitches circling around her bullet wound. There was more string than flesh. “Shit job…”

  Her muscles screaming at her, Gore pulled herself shaking onto her feet, glancing about. On one of the couches, Debbie lay curled up in a thick wool blanket, mumbling in her sleep. Meanwhile the halfling, who Gore assumed had treated her, sat slouched on the other couch. Both fast asleep.

  Gore smiled, contemplating her next move.

  Were Gore a lesser orc, she might have repaid the two’s generosity by stealing them blind. Though, Gore couldn’t see anything worth stealing. She sighed and rummaged through her pockets, searching for her keys. She closed her fist around them. Everything else was still in place. At least, Bones hadn’t taken the Magnum Orcus.

  Wait.

  Where was the bastard?

  Gore spun about the room once more, scanning any nooks or crevasses where her brother might have hidden himself. But her brother’s only sign was the unmistakable reek of Blight bug.

  “Good riddance,” hissed Gore, rubbing her stomach.

  She immediately regretted that decision, cursing as ripples of burning pain rushed up her chest. Gore cursed, “Shit!”

  That only made the pain worse.

  “Gore… you awake?” asked Debbie, rubbing her eyes as she yawned, shrugging the blanket off. Then she shook her head and snapped her eyes wide open. “Gore! You’re awake! Oh thank the Forge Master, we thought you were a goner.”