Anthology - From the Street

"What am I" Alex asked.

Cayman flicked a scowl. "I dunno," he said. "The appendix, maybe."

The day had gone downhill from there. The night was humid, they'd been on surveillance so long he hadn't had any real food to eat for half a day, and the long coat he was wearing was hot and unbalanced, tilting him to the left where the cutter was sheathed.

The cutter. Every time he thought about it he wanted to pull it out for another look, but simply carrying the thing was enough to get him arrested.

The cutter was two Cougar fineblades mounted on three-foot long handles with bolt cutter action. The blades would open slightly wider than a thick shoulder. If Alex placed them just outside the shoulder joint and pulled them closed with enough force, they would pass through the arm like a falcon cutting through air.

But he couldn't take them out now. He was on the clock.

A few squatters scurried from one abandoned warehouse to another, but other than that the streets were empty. You live in the Barrens long enough, you develop a sense that tells you when to stay inside. You don't develop that sense, you don't live long. Alex was the only person loitering on the street, sitting hunched on a scooter like he was drunk or hung over. He didn't have to do much acting.

Savini's resonant voice came in the headset, sounding like a sportscaster. "He's working the upper body now. Boy is he working it."

"Any signs that he's tiring?" Cayman asked.

"Naw, naw. He's having fun. He may be getting stronger."

"Drek."

Alex half-hoped Cayman would abort, but nothing further came through the transceiver. He reached into his inside pocket and rubbed the grips of the cutters.

Savini came in again. "Okay, the vic's coughing blood. He's meat."

"Conscious?" asked Spindle.

"Yeah… ummmmm, wait, wait, he's going, he's fading… no. Unconscious. Good for him – he needs the rest."

"The vic's not our concern," Cayman said curtly. "What about the Toad?"

"Checking out his work. Standing over the vic, looking at the cuts and everything and… drek! He just zapped him! Vic's body's twitching like a landed fish. That was mean! "

"It's good, it's good, let him get it all out. Then we'll let him calm down. Then he's ours."

Alex appreciated Cayman's confidence, but he wasn't sure that a man who electro-shocked unconscious people for fun could ever be considered calm.

"Okay, okay, he's taking a few steps away. Looks like… yeah, his chest is heaving a little. He's breathing heavy. He's feeling all that work he just did. You were right, C, you were right."

"We're set, then. Two minutes, then we go."

In those two minutes, Burt the Toad slowly strolled south away from his victim, who was still lying on the street, unconscious and twitching. The Toad looked like a cube, as wide and thick as he was tall. His face was buried in the warts that earned him his nickname. If he noticed Savini watching him from above, he showed no signs.

He covered a block and a half and then was hit by a taxi.

It was a precision blow, 25 km/hour. Wouldn't kill him, probably wouldn't do any kind of serious damage, but would take him to the ground.

The rest of the plan would take 23 seconds. Leadhead and Cayman jumped out of the back of the cab as Spindle prepared to gun it backwards. They threw looped ropes over Burt the Toad's wrists, pulling them tight, then stretched his arms out by pulling hard against the Toad's considerable strength. Slowly, his arms raised. The butt of a machine pistol poked out of the end of the Toad's arm and loosed a few rounds at Cayman, but his armored vest absorbed them.

Alex pulled his scooter to the curb right after the taxi ran into the Toad, and he ran up just behind Leadhead and Cayman, holding his cutters in front of him, jaws wide. His eyes zeroed in on the shoulder joint. His knees felt wobbly, but his hands were firm.

The cutter was two feet from Burt the Toad's shoulder when the knife blade flashed out of the arm. Alex only saw it as a deep shine in the night, twisting into the rope Cayman held, slicing it easily. Cayman fell backward, and the precious arm was free.

"There's a knife!" Cayman screamed angrily.

"Yeah, yeah," Leadhead said, straining to hold the Toad.

"There wasn't supposed to be a knife!"

"Yet there it is," Savini said dryly. "Hold on, I'm coming down."

Alex jumped backward as the arm came slashing toward him. He parried with the cutter, and the power of the Toad's arm swept the tool out of his hands. It clattered on the street, ten feet away.

Alex glanced at the cutter. Burt the Toad saw it, Alex saw him see it. He feinted toward the cutter then leapt backward, flipping, landing upside-down on his hands, pushing off, landing again on his feet, out of the Toad's range. Duster had tried to teach him a half-dozen gymnastic moves, and that was the only one that had taken, thanks to his newly powerful legs.

The Toad surged forward, raising his arm above his head, letting the mercury drop to his shoulder. Then, suddenly, he stumbled to his right. Leadhead had let go of his rope, and the sudden lack of a pull forced the Toad off balance.

Two voices spoke in Alex's mind. Alex told him to keep moving back; X-Prime told him to go for the cutter.

He didn't know he had made a decision until he was stooping to grab the cutter. He snagged them just as the black tower that was Leadhead ran by, charging the Toad. Alex turned in time to see that the Toad had his balance back and was swinging his arm.

Leadhead saw it, too, and skidded his heels to reverse his momentum. But he was too late. The Toad's arm swung in an underhanded punch. Alex could almost see the fist gain speed as the mercury flew the length of the arm. Leadhead was bent backward, almost falling, when the fist caught him in the stomach. Leadhead's shape abruptly shifted from convex to concave as his whole body collapsed around the Toad's fist. The Toad lifted him more than a foot off the ground, then Leadhead flew back, landing on his back, skidding on the pavement.

Alex was so fixed on the cybernetic right arm that he almost missed the left coming at him in a roundhouse. He ducked, rolled, and thrust the cutters in the Toad's direction, slamming the handles together. The Toad yelped and jumped backward. Alex had sliced the Toad's pants and taken a little skin, too.

Then Cayman was there, behind the Toad, working his kidneys with both hands. The Toad grunted and whirled, leading with his right arm, knife blade extended. Cayman was ready, though, and evaded easily, ducking as the arm passed over his head then leaping forward, leading with his head, trying to tackle the Toad.

He bounced off him like a rubber ball hitting a cinder block.

The knife at the end of the Toad's arm flashed down. Cayman tried to roll but couldn't move fast enough.

Alex got the cutters under the Toad's arm and swung up, catching him near the elbow. The blow was strong, but Alex held on to the cutters this time.

The cyberlimb slid down the length of the cutters, still moving down, but diverted. It dug into Cayman's leg, but shallowly. There was a flap of skin, there was blood, but no real damage.

Cayman got to his feet, Alex drew the cutters back for another blow, Leadhead tried to get to his feet, and Savini finally emerged from the warehouse across the street. The Toad retracted his knife. A gun barrel pointed out instead.

"Gun, gun!" Alex yelled. Cayman took two running steps, leapt, and grabbed the lowest iron rung of a ladder set into a brick wall. He pulled up, bending his knees, getting himself as high as possible. Two shots entered the wall below his feet.

Alex saw his chance. He opened the cutter, aimed the blades, thrust them toward the Toad's shoulder, then pulled them shut, all in one quick motion.