F*ck My Battle Scars

Chapter 2

Several minutes pass before the man removes the ice and checks on the wound. With no surprise, the blue has become considerably smaller. He smiles and says, "Cold still does its job, doesn't it?" Suddenly, a phone rings from behind the black coat. The man gets up and answers.

"Hello?"

"Scarecrow, here's Black Eagle. Is the package ready?"

"Scarecrow is down, for now. Come to the Back Dawn tomorrow. The package is ready, but delivery will be done then."

"Well received! Black Eagle out."

The phone call is done. The barman puts the phone back in the pocket of the coat and sits back by Kay's side. He takes her hand and sighs. "Why do you have to be so loyal to yourself?" On those words, he slowly closes his eyes and succumbs to sleep...

Dawn takes place quickly. Despite the pain and the lack of sleep, Kay still gets up and dresses. The barman is by her side, deeply asleep on the uncomfortable chair. The girl smiles and, before leaving, covers him with a blanket, wishing him sweet dreams. Kay leaves the building and calls Black Eagle, who picks up immediately.

"Black Eagle, Scarecrow is calling."

"Jesus, you gave me a fucking heart attack! What happened yesterday?"

"The package is ready. Meeting at the Back Dawn. Don't make me wait!"

"Christ! Threatening me? Ugh... Ok! See you there. Black Eagle out."

On these words, Kay hangs up and rushes towards the murder scene.

There aren't any cops, but still, a lot of people are present. All are men dressed in black with thick pairs of sunglasses."Fucking agents..." Kay thinks, hiding in the shadows when another car arrives. A black and shiny Mercedes pulls around the corner, and an elegant young man gets out. Dressed in a crimson-red suit with sunglasses on, he looked like the son of a Russian mafia boss born with a silver spoon in his mouth and way too much money. His hair is white, shaved on the sides, and pulled back. His skin is also pale. From afar, Kay observes as the man approaches the crime scene. "What do we know?" "A broken neck and no sign of potential struggle. Whoever did this knew exactly what they wanted. The crime was planned." The man in the red suit kneels beside the corpse and unveils it. The image is gross. Not only is he covered in garbage, but the twist on the victim's neck leaves a gruesome pattern on the skin, a mix of blues and veins. "The work of an expert..." he thinks out loud, a fascinated gaze in his eyes. He gets back up, removes the latex gloves from his hands, and throws them onto one of the men present. Returning to his car, a sudden thought struck him. From the shadows, Kay observes cautiously, overtaken by an intense curiosity. Why did he bring so many people? Why does he break their agreement? She clenches her fist tightly onto her coat, biting her tongue to avoid yelling out all the names currently popping into her mind. The young man adjusts his black tie as he yells out loud. "I know you're out there somewhere out there, demon of the night. Come meet me tonight at the Tower, for us shall discuss in proper manners..." Saying so, he re-enters the luxurious car, and his men drive off, leaving the back alley as empty as it was yesterday. After counting up to 1000, Kay  walks out from her hiding spot, she returns to the corpse and stuffs it in a big black bag. Once the package is prepared, she takes out her shattered phone and makes a call.

"Come pick me up. Ready for delivery."

"Copy that. Are you alone?"

"I counted. We are good."

"What do you mean you counted? Was there someone else?"

"Mind your fucking business and just do your job!"

Kay hangs up, feeling pissed. Putting away the phone, she sits on top of the gross rampage bag, takes out her cigarette pack, and lights one. For a 20-year-old, she smokes a lot, around three packs a day. Many would have already passed due to intoxication, but not her. Kay barely even coughs. "Curse those lungs!" she thinks every time. Curse everything, indeed! Curse those fuckers who make this life a nightmare, curse those mafia players with their heads in the skies, curse those scientists who give her false promises after each package. Curse them all! Kay cracks the cigarette, extinguishing it onto her skin. The smell of roasted skin flies up her nostrils, but Kay doesn't budge. Once the cigarette is thrown aside, the skin immediately begins to heal. The reddish-harmed skin quickly turns into a brown crust, which is then replaced by freshly new skin. As Kay observes her hand healing, the squealing tires of a car are heard, and then a double honk. Kay sees a grey, rusty pickup at the entrance of the alley, with dust flying from under its tires. A middle-aged man pops his head out of the window. He's dressed in a white yet dirty t-shirt and a blue carrot shirt and has a baseball cap on his head. His hair is long down beneath his chin, and his eyes are brown. He slaps the door several times, calling out for Kay to come. She gets up, picking up the heavy bag effortlessly. She throws it in the back of the truck and then jumps onto the passenger seat. "Jeez! You look like shit, Kay! When was the last time you showered?" Kay gives him a side look, but despite her poker face, the guy sees the beginning of a smile. "Not before your last shower." The guy laughs, tucking a cigarette in his teeth as he lights the grumpy motor. Kay rests her head on her hand, looking outside the window as they leave this shabby part of Horiah. The half-broken radio plays a vague melody among the sound of gravel roads as they reach the main street. As he drives among the neglected buildings, the guy keeps smoking, sparing Kay little gazes. At one point, he turns up the radio and starts muffle singing. Kay looks at him, annoyed and surprised at once. The guy smiles as he gives Kay a push on the shoulder, trying to grip and pull her mood up. After several tries, he gave up, focusing on the road, but, to his astonishment, Kay joined with light taps on the door. Her head was slightly rocking, in sync with the song, and she even started singing. The driver, feeling extremely proud, started yelling out the lyrics, singing at the top of his lungs, which Kay soon copied, with a smile finally drawn on her face. They kept on singing for the drive, from the moment they left the city, all the way through the boiling desert, and so on, until they reached the Bunker...