The Mayor breathed easy, looking around the ambulance at his two saviors, Mike and Nadja, still dazed and heart racing.

  “I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what just happened, but I thought I was a dead man.” He chuckled, nervously.

  “Oh you are.” Mike assured. “Just not quite yet.” Mike said, suddenly stabbing his neck with a syringe, and giving him a dose of tranquilizer.

  Tanner and Rowan ran down the same alley, as a black car slid to a stop behind them and the window rolled down. Yuri stuck his buzzed head out of the driver’s seat.

  “Get in.” he said, as they did without hesitation. Suddenly the passenger door opened, Yuri’s loaded Russian 9mm extending out at Alexander’s face, bloody and missing his sunglasses.

  “It’s me, you impaired troglodyte! Drive. Move.” Alex barked.

  “Where’s Caleb?” asked Tanner.

  “He’s dead, drive.” Alex encouraged frantically, checking his face in the flip-down mirror, and carefully picking out a piece of glass from his eyebrow.

  “Fuck, everything!” Tanner yelled, “Get Lincoln and Theo.” She huffed.

  “Dead. This is whole team left.” Yuri casually sighed.

  “Are you shitting me? What happened?” Tanner yelled.

  “Nadja mowed them down like dogs. She does not leave survivors. I don’t know who killed Elroy. Perhaps Carl knew the plan and took him out, or mayor security snipers. I had clear shot. He fired, the mayor moved. I hear second shot and check. Elroy is dead, slumped over rooftop, so I evacuated and headed for getaway car. I get there, Nadja is filling the coffee shop with bullets, and I stopped for my gun, she was gone. I don’t know what happened.” he lied

  “Is the mayor dead at least?” Tanner asked, almost in tears.

  “Unfortunately no.” Alexander huffed. “I think your wondrous Mikey smuggled him out in a wheelchair as a hostage. He shot Caleb before he could dart him, and before I could retaliate, he shot me as well. I was fortunate. His bullet, intended for death, merely clipped sunglasses. I felt pain and something strike my face, so naturally I dropped. I assumed I was dead. When I realized I got very fortunate, I saw an ambulance driving away. I’m relatively sure Mike took the Mayor alive, and scurried away. Your friend is gone, Tanner. He executed one of his own men, maybe that was Carl double-crossing us and then getting double-crossed. He didn’t hesitate to kill Caleb or even blink. He’s a mindless machine of death.”

  “NO!” She yelled. “Mike must have acted in self-defense. He…probably thought Caleb drew a real gun, Carl was dangerous. Fuck Carl. Mike wouldn’t just kill random people unless he thought you were going to kill him.” She screamed in denial.

  “Tanner darling, I dropped my gun, hands up, surrender style. I wasn’t a threat, he just shot for the head anyway. He didn’t just kill Carl, he kneecapped him and left him to die. It was quite personal. He’s taking the mayor alive, for some reason. Whatever he’s doing, Holy man Mike was an illusion from the start, or he is simply dead, and Hitman Mike is the monster left over. I don’t know if Nadja turned him or if he was always evil, but I looked in the face of evil, and he pulled the trigger on me. There’s no Holyman Mike.” Alexander assured.

  “I don’t believe that.” Tanner sniffled. “I can’t believe that. He’s lost in there, in need of saving. Nadja will kill Mike when she’s done with him.”

  “She already did.” Sighed Yuri. “Wake up little girl. Nadja is the devil. She brings out the worst in you. There is no going back. Men like Mike do not kill like that if there is good left in them. She was not there giving orders, she was busy slaughtering people in the coffee shop, who knows how many. Mike is a killer, a monster like her. He just didn’t know it till he met her. She does this to men. If there is evil in them, she makes it stronger and kills the rest. They do not go back. If you refuse to let go of that, you just end up like me. Tossed to the street. I was not heartless enough for her, not lethal enough. She found her replacement monster. You should have funeral and move on.” He informed.

  Tanner sat silently at the clubhouse, the old drafty church walls feeling colder than usual, as she watched the news on low volume. Blurry pictures of her and Rowan plastered the screen, as well as a very unclear picture of a blonde with a padded up ass and sunglasses, no visible tattoos. Nothing to connect her to Nadja or any description. For a split second, there was a frame of her eyes as she tilted down, a strange orange tint to them.

  “Police reports are baffled by today's terrorist attack and failed assassination on Mayor Sandlin, who is recovering from minor injuries at an undisclosed hospital.” Said the new reporter, looking professionally sympathetic. “At least 3 identified gang members may be on the run, 4 of them found dead around the area armed with assault weapons and sniper rifles. Ten civilians and 18 security officers were killed, 8 injured, and nobody is yet sure who planned the attack. Mayor Sandlin has apparently sent a message from the recovery room calling for stricter gun control laws and even a total weapons ban in the city limits. More on that to be expected.”

  “Terrorist attack.” Tanner sighed. “So we’re terrorists now, and Nadja doesn’t even look like herself on the fucking security feeds. What is the deal with her eyes? Why the hell did they take the mayor alive? They don’t need a ransom. Why get killed over it?” she puzzled as Rowan made his way to the couch, bandaged up and playing up his injuries.

  “I should take a look at your injuries as well.” He muttered to Tanner.

  “No chance. It’s a few bruises, I don’t need your creepy hands poking under my shirt, thanks. How can the news be so much bullshit and no answers, and turn this into some political move? The man was buying women to abuse and have killed for fun, where is that part of the news? He’s the worst politician on that level of power, and they’re saying he’s fine and acting like he’s some victim of the bad guys. HE IS the bad guys, NADJA is the bad guy! Why do none of the evilest people ever get blamed for anything, and we’re trying to help and get called terrorists!? We didn’t even have guns in the courthouse! Did you guys shoot and murder civilians, because I sure didn’t, and I don’t remember us planning that or pulling assault weapons out of our asses. I killed one guy in self-defense, and he was a personal bodyguard to one of the most horrible monsters in the building. Did any of you guys kill ten random innocent people? FUCK, how did we dick this up so badly? How did we fail the mission, let Nadja and the mayor live, not bring back Mike, and get blamed for 10 dead people we didn't shoot and however many security guards were hired for this event and didn’t even work for the mayor directly? How did everything go so wrong?” she asked, slumping over.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Nadja went wrong.” Alexander said, placing down a laptop and opening it. “Nadja went wrong, then made sure Mike went wrong, and then they just fabricated devastation and left us holding the bag. You think Mike’s still in there? Take a look at what’s circulating the web like a viral trend.” He said hitting play.

  Mike pressed record on the webcam, stepping back in a black ski mask with a cross on it, and hood, as Nadja stood in the background, mask and hood as well, candles lit in a circle like a summoning of some kind and the mayor stripped naked on a wooden cross, nailed up to it.

  “Listen closely people. You have sinned and you have denied forgiveness. You have supported men like this, elected evil and turned away when they preyed on the weak.” He said in a muffled and haunting tone. “This man, abused and killed a dozen women.” He said, holding up photos of his victims and pinning them to the mayor as he moaned through the tape on his mouth. “And the police did nothing, because the police only care who pays them the most. Your leaders have failed you, your law enforcement enforces what they want to enforce and leaves you to be victims. A day of righteous cleansing is here. An awakening. If darkness and blood is power, then take that back and use it. All of you. Rise up, kill your gods and your masters and take what should be yours. Your cities, your taxes, your weapons. Take it all back. Those of you too weak to stand and fight will only die like lambs led to slaughter by those in power. Those of you ready to shed blood, sharpen your tools. This will be an age of blood and hellfire. This is a time to ride the horses of the apocalypse into the streets, with death and hell following you. Choose your marks and paint the streets with their blood. Let the city burn, let it run red. But before you send them to their graves.” He sighed viciously, drunk with madness and power, leaning closer to the camera and pull-starting the chainsaw. “Tell them Mister Black sent you.” He said as the video paused.

  Tanner sat back and choked down her tears to stay calm, streaming what she couldn’t suppress down her face like little waterfalls of eye shadow, as she shut the laptop.

  “It only becomes worse from there.” Alexander sighed. “It’s 17 minutes of Mike and Nadja shaving off slices of the mayor from fingertips and toes to a stump. There’s no more message, just carnage.” He said, “Even I found it difficult to finish.”

  “How hypocritical.” Rowan said calmly.

  “Excuse me?” Alexander asked, looking offended.

  “We’ve all cut up a body or two, the man deserved it. Why are we acting like he did anything wrong here?” he scoffed with a chuckle.

  “Because that’s not MIKE!” Tanner screamed, flipping the table. “That’s not the Mike I knew. He was the one telling me to control and keep my vicious inner demon in check, and now he’s just an inner demon calling people to start a war. The mayor is one thing, some of the crooked cops on payroll deserve it, but you can’t just give an order to go slaughter people at will. Some of the cops are just doing their job, some of the leaders could be helping things, they’re not all evil, his whole…” she sniffled, trying to stay calm and not break into incoherent tears. “His whole teaching was to never take a life without knowing it was necessary. A lot of people died today, some of us, killed by Mike, and he’s there celebrating it, hacking up his prey with HER like she’s his partner in crime. Bonnie and Clyde, Not Mike and Tanner. Not cleaning up the worst, just calling for chaos. People are gonna die, a lot of them who don’t need to. That’s not Mike, Mike would never do that!” she said, blowing snot and tears into a Kleenex to breathe.

  “Darling…it’s him.” Alexander said calmly.

  “I know it’s…Mike’s body. But the man who saved me and took me in was real, and this wasn’t in him.” She said thinking about the notes and journals. “It wasn’t awake yet I guess. I know that man in the video is Mike. I realize that. But he wasn’t a monster till he met Nadja. He was a good man. But you’re right.” She said, gathering her thoughts and swallowing harshly. “He’s gone now. My Mike’s gone, and she killed him. Whatever she put in to fill the gaps isn’t something we can save. He knew that. All along he knew that. He predicted it, he passed everything to me, and told me to do my job and lead the team, kill the monsters. And he knew he'd be one of them some day.” She said, standing up and stomping to her backpack and grabbing her SMG.

  “Whoa, slow down.” Alexander said, lightly touching her shoulders and calming her. “This is not something to gallop valiantly into. This is something to consider and plan, and prepare for. We do not have the firepower, nor the team, nor the preparations to do anything tonight except something stupid that accomplishes nil. Please just put the gun down.” He begged her.

  “Whatever the Hell Mister Black is…” she said. “I can’t kill him. But someone needs to. And that fucking snake that killed my Mikey needs to die too. That belongs to me. You’re right, we’re not ready. We don’t have guns or connections or money…”

  “I can get this.” Yuri sighed, opening a beer from the kitchen area, a silhouette behind the TV screen casually having a beverage with the utmost confidence. “I said I can get this. You think Nadja has no enemies but you? You think I am the first bodyguard she kicked to the street for failing her impossible expectations, and her spoiled rich little bitch wishes? She has enemies. They lack motivation and reason to risk their lives. I also have connections who would like her dead, with money. And money is a very good motivation and reason when you add it to revenge. This is an effective recipe, it just takes time to make it.” he shrugged.

  “What if I can’t wait?” Tanner asked coldly and oddly calm. "What if nobody can?"

  “Then go get killed, she will gladly do it. I will become leader of the group, find another cute killer as mascot, and we drink to your memory. Choice is yours. I won’t stop you. You won’t get very far. It will be very sad.” He nodded.

  “Shit.” She sighed. “Kinda wish Carl was alive now, but he’d just switch sides every ten minutes, and then we’d have 3 problems some day. So what do we do in the meantime? While we’re waiting to make connections and build a team and a plan, what do we do?” she asked Yuri.

  “We just…remain.” Alexander said. “It will be a storm of red and black, we cannot change that. We did not create that. We will not be among the dead that it brings. We learn to survive and lie low, as we have all done so many times. We survive, to fight another day. And then…we probably still die, but doing something glorious.” He grinned. “Be part of that with us, but not tonight.” He said, rubbing her back and handing her a beer.

  “I don’t drink anymore.” She said, standing up. “Unless I end up in a safehouse with Nadja bunch of guns and I know I’m not coming back out. Then I’ll take that offer.” She said, staggering off to go rest. Yuri retired to his room with some food and a 6 pack, business as usual. Rowan smirked and looked over at Alexander, who slowly glared back.

  “A storm of red and black…how poetic and overly dramatic.” Rowan giggled.

  “It calmed her down and cleared her head. My grand poetry is a distracting pleasantness.”

  “Still. How very Alexander of you to make a speech for the dead, to impress a girl. She finds you annoying, you know? Speaking of clearing heads, how is that little cut on your brow? Did you do that little nick yourself, to impress her, instead of just saying you gave up and let him go? Or did he really miss your entire gigantic head? The monster that takes headshots from miles away manages to only graze you and let you live. Are you sure you didn’t just hide behind the dumpster and wait till the monster was gone?” Rowan prodded.

  "Oh, do try and wiggle your way into my head and gaslight me. You think a cannibal who eats women is going to impress her, just because you got a bigger scar in that fight? Please. You’re just the same monster as the Preacher but without any skills or teeth, or testicles. A vulture. I’d rather be the lesser wolf beaten down by the bigger one who lived to circle back, than the scavenger that picks the bones of the dead for food…quite literally.” Alexander defended.

  “May the gentleman's games begin?” Rowan asked, sipping his glass of water.

  “That’s your problem, thinking it’s all a game. May the HUNT begin.” Alexander corrected, making his leave and heading to the basement to plot and tinker.

  “Well…it’s no fun at all when you think of it that way.” Rowan smirked, sitting in the dark and silently listening to the sound of nothing, the blackness enveloping him and his highball glass of room temperature bottled water, sipping it like a fine wine and enjoying the serenity of nothing at all.