Anthology - SHADOWRUN - Spells and Chrome

Abiola stared off into the distance. Eighty-five naira and a bottle of beer. How had he come to sell his soul for so little?

Babafemi leaned back in his chair, and slapped one of the young men crowding the bar on the arm. "Or you could always become a fisherman."

Everyone laughed at Babafemi's grand joke.

And that's really what it was about. Choices. He could go work for one of the corps, who were less decent even than the mercs they hired. Or he could eek out a meager living, just another poor maghas paying tribute to Babafemi or some other petty thug while the poverty of Shomolu drained the life out of him.

Or he could go back to carrying a rifle for anyone with the naira, go back to killing for money.

No, there weren't any other choices.

So he would be a soldier in the gang wars. And why not? He'd just be killing another Babafemi on the other side. Hadn't he told himself he was willing to do that, just a few minutes before?

Abiola cleared his throat. "You're just going to kill the Dragons, right? We're not going to… hurt any innocents."

Babafemi's face screwed up into an expression of faux shock. "Innocents?" he said. "My boys and I would never hurt innocents." A broad smiled stretched across his handsome face. "But let me tell you something, Abiola. Isn't no one in this world who is really innocent."

Then Babafemi laughed out loud to show he didn't really mean it.

Even though Abiola knew he did. • • •

The western sky was on fire with the sun's death, molten orange shot through with gold, fading to dark blue and then purple. Beneath that magnificent sky the cool air of dusk carried the rotten stink of garbage and the rattle of automatic gunfire. Teenagers grunted or cried out as bullets took their lives and their bodies fell upon the mounds of refuse they sheltered behind, just one more piece of garbage for Lagos to bear.

How did I come to this place? Abiola wondered.

A bullet spanged off the 50-gallon drums of sludge Abiola crouched behind, sparking orange as it ricocheted away.

Sure, this is a lot better than being a merc, he thought sardonically.

He fired his AK high into the darkening sky, hopefully giving the Dragons something to think about without actually killing any of them.

The Dragons were making their stand at the back end of their territory, up against the short border with Surulere.

Babafemi said it was because the Dragons were afraid to come out and face the Ammits, but Abiola wondered. People whispered that dark things sometimes came out of the spooky Surulere and took the weak, the old, or the very young. Maybe the Dragons were back here to protect their neighborhood.

The border was a place of garbage. No metahuman would step foot in Surulere, not even to throw away refuse. So the people stacked their garbage here, dotting the border with stinking mounds of rotting filth.

Which gave Abiola an idea.

He glanced left, saw Babafemi crouched behind a pile of garbage, firing away with his Ares Viper Slivergun. Abiola drew a deep breath and shot out from behind his cover, crouch-running toward the gang leader. He dove behind Babafemi's pile of garbage.

"Hey, nice trick," said the boy. "You know you can get killed doing that?"

"I know how to end this," said Abiola breathlessly.

Babafemi's face brightened. "Yeah?"

"They won't fall back into Surulere."

Babafemi snorted. "Who would? That place's walking death."

"All you have to do is set a trap on either flank. Then we push them hard in the center they'll flee-right into our hands."

Babafemi scowled. "Too complicated. Good thing you're not in charge."

Abiola opened his mouth, but Babafemi cut him off. "Wait." And then he disappeared.

Abiola turned and fired a burst at the opposing side to keep the Dragons on their side of the twenty, thirty-meter no man's land.

Babafemi returned carrying a little girl in his arms. She was maybe eight, her eyes wide with terror. She shrieked as Babafemi wrestled her to the ground. She flailed at him with her little fists. Babafemi hit her hard in the face and she went limp.

"Hey, Dragons," he shouted. "Got one of your little sisters here. Surrender or I'll kill her."

"You can't do that," whispered Abiola fiercely. "These guys are thugs. They're not going to give over because of her."

Babafemi shrugged. "Then we'll just have to keep plugging people until they do give over."

Abiola looked down at the dazed little girl and then back up at Babafemi. He almost killed the gangster right then. But that would only make him at war with the Ammits, which was a sure death sentence.

And it would do nothing to help the civilians caught in the crossfire.

"Don't kill her," said Abiola. "I have another idea."

"What's that?" asked Babafemi.

But Abiola was already charging into the no-man's land, firing his AK straight and level. A Dragon popped up and Abiola laid him out with a well-aimed burst.

Fire sliced through Abiola's left arm, but he kept going.

He arced around a pile of garbage and caught the surprised gunner just as he was turning. Abiola roared and smashed his fist into the boy's face.

The Dragon dropped like an unstrung puppet.

Another gangster stepped toward him, his rifle leveled at Abiola's chest.

Abiola reached forward with his left hand, pushing the rifle's barrel up so that it fired over his shoulder. Then he dropped the Dragon with a blow from his right fist.

He sprinted toward another garbage mound, this time dodging Ammit fire and caught two more Dragons.

"Down on the ground," Abiola growled.

One of the men went for a knife and Abiola shot him dead.

The other got promptly and eagerly onto the ground.

Suddenly the sound of gunfire started to die off. Finding an enraged troll behind their lines was enough to scare the Dragons off.

Wearily, Abiola settled to the ground his back to the garbage mound. He was shaking with the after-effects of adrenaline and his left arm throbbed with pain.

For a moment he closed his eyes.

When he looked up again he saw Babafemi looking down at him, smiling from ear to ear. • • •

The full moon shone down on Babafemi Kosoko's paltry victory, its silvery light joining the firelight of the burning garbage mounds. The Ammits had set them afire to celebrate their defeat of the Dragons, filling the border with a choking smoke that tasted gritty in Abiola's mouth.

Seventeen boys and men had died and for what? So the Ammits could gain three more recruits (captured Dragons) and round up eight civilians-all women and children.

And so Babafemi could proclaim his superiority to all.

Babafemi raised his voice above the drunken hoots of his men. "I thank my good friend, my brave friend, Abiola Fashola, who greatly aided our victory."

A ragged cheer went up.

Abiola bowed his head, but could not bring himself to speak.

"Tonight our brother showed the true heart of an Ammit."

Abiola swallowed. This was what he'd been afraid of. He did not want to join Babafemi's gang. Doing limited jobs for them was quite different than being one of them. "I thank you," began Abiola, "but-"

He was cut off by one of Babafemi's lieutenants. "What should we do with these?" he asked, pointing at the frightened pack of women and children with the barrel of his assault rifle.

"Kill 'em," said Babafemi.

"No," Abiola barked.

A cloak of silence suddenly descended over the makeshift camp, only broken by the crackle and hiss of the dirty fires.

"No?" Babafemi whispered.

Abiola licked his lips. "I mean no disrespect, Babafemi Kosoko. Only.. I thought the reason for this mission was to show the people of Shomolu that the Ammits could protect them better than the Dragons."

"Which they'll see if the Dragons' people end up dead," insisted Babafemi.