Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The One-Eared Neko ❯ PHLEBOTOMIZE ( Chapter 10 )

Part 10 PHLEBOTOMIZE

It was like Hell frozen over. Twisted upside down, rattling out his brains, and absolutely freezing. Duo couldn't stand trying to sleep anymore, when his very genetics itched to crawl out into the night, and his teeth chattered violently in his mouth like military drums. Although he was a wanted criminal, he still retained a sense of conscience and the still small voice in his head yapped at him to consider the traveler's sake. He had, and now he was a blanket short on a cold night for his integrity and shining character. And yet, the kind and generous ideas running through his mind wouldn't cease, although he argued back that he'd done his good deeds for the day. He didn't need anymore mental shit to grapple with.

With a morbid smirk, pressed against a ratty pillow, he wondered mildly if that sullen little thing had rubbed off on him, infecting him with his Dudley Do-Good ways.

The bohemian's lips twitched and he noiselessly lifted from the cot. Still donned in the black baseball cap, he listened for traces of life in the front seat and discovered nothing. His smile stretched emptily in the darkness. When the coast was clear, the shadow slunk over the seat, creeping out in a catty slink and escaping without a sound. He passed over the sleeping form of the traveler, covered in the fleece blanket and highlighted in shadow. He didn't even take a second's pause before slipping outside into the chilly night air.

The door swung close with a simple 'thunk.' A rapid series of metallic ticks followed, clashing against fiery white-yellow sparks and eventually setting the end of a pristine white Marlboro fag aflame. Seconds later, bitter-tasting smoke flirted with the bohemian's lungs, spilling out from his lips as he restlessly paced in the half-moonlight. Boots scuffed at the dirt moodily; ashes fell victim to the midnight breeze and whirled away into oblivion.

Eventually, Duo quit pacing on the shoulder beside the white Isuzu and lifted the cigarette from his lips, impatiently folding his arms. He exhaled into the chill night air. Sullen, berating thoughts coursed his mind like a never-ending injection of adrenaline, always chewing at his brain. Mostly, regressing. And regretting. And wondering the fate of the traveler at his own hands.

For a few solitary minutes, things remained as they were. The peaceful, wooded hillsides slept silently around them, looking like they could simply pulverize him and his tiny truck underneath a heel, but had fallen asleep to the setting sun instead. Dark skies loomed overhead and the stars glittered to the centerpiece of a sliced moon, a neat bowl shape hovering white and silent. Silence was suitable at times, at least when the thoughts in his skull were as messed up as they were now.

Duo moodily twisted his lips around the cigarette, knowing very well what the tar-infected smoke was doing to the walls of his lungs. He didn't necessarily enjoy waiting for cancer, but then again, with his plans, there wasn't much to look forward too after this particular job. Might as well rot from the inside out. With a jaunty angle to his leg not supporting the majority of his weight, Duo kicked impatiently at the ground.

To kill, or not to kill. That's the real question, the bohemian thought darkly. I don't trust any one. I should kill him. Ditch 'im, at least. I've only been asking for trouble letting him hang around too long.

The moon crawled deeper into the darkness, still staring like a ghost down across the landscape and itching irritably at the back of the criminal's head. He was heaving a tired sigh, wisps of twisting white smoke spilling rapidly out, when the distant crack ran in his ears like impending thunder. Like a frightened animal, Duo's head shot up and the grey embers and ashes hewed from his cigarette into the breeze. Distrusting white swam around his all but glowing eyes. Nose twitched and he scowled to himself.

Gunsmoke.

It was too close, he thought darkly to himself. It was familiar, too. That was what set a deep frown across his face.

Duo quickly realized his responsibilities and seethed in the direction of the sound he now recognized as a gunshot, hidden deep within the woods. He knew that that gunshot was luring him. And if he didn't follow it and it sniffed him out, he risked something even more important. He'd signed a piece of paper, and along with it, a few unsaid things were agreed upon between the traveler and himself. The bohemian, his heart-shaped face harsh and barren, shadowed in darkness, testily spat out the cigarette and crumpled it underfoot as he calmly disappeared into the forest.

Meanwhile, inside the Isuzu's cramped sleeper cabin, Heero still drifted through a dark, dreamless sleep that hovered close to the surface of consciousness, due to his less than comfortable position. Although the bohemian had given him the blanket, he still was still laying on his stomach, his face half pressed into the seat after having been dropped in to his current haphazard position. It wasn't the most comfortable of sleeping positions. Time drifted lazily by, impossible to gauge, Heero mumbling softly in his sleep and shifting half-uneasily, twisting the fleece blanket into knots around his legs. Some time after the unnoticed exit of the bohemian, there was a muffled noise echoing through the hills that seeped into the sleepy quiet inside the cabin. Heero lifted his sleep-weary head, his dark hair disheveled and eyes heavy and sore. Glancing out the window, looming blue glow dusted across the hills and in the still boughs of the trees.

Heero sat up. That distant, puzzling noise echoed almost silently within the dark of his sleeping mind but still had drawn him back to life. And now he sat up on the seat, furrowing his brow trying to distinguish it. While yawning and rubbing at his eyes in the dimness, that answer came to him. Heero had stopped rubbing his eye by the second gunshot, and had, in a surge of adrenaline powered panic, begun searching for the bohemian and his temptation smile. He found nothing but luggage and he felt as if something was clawing at the inside of his chest.

Wisps of cigarette smoke clawed at his nose and he quickly glanced outside. Maybe he had gone out for a midnight smoke. He briefly got his hopes up, but Duo Maxwell was no where to be seen. He was gone.

"Shit!" Heero cursed, clumsily kicking the blanket away in his hurry. At the third horrific sound echoing over the hills and into the Isuzu, the Japanese man had violently flung the door open and half-fallen, half-leapt to the ground. Spitting gravel and dry yellow dust, he clamored to his feet with adrenaline burning in his blood.

Panting, he glanced down in time to notice the dying embers of a cigarette glowing in the grass, having chewed the fag with fire to the filter and eventually died down on the gravel shoulder. Heero then stared at the looming blue, hunting for signs of life. He could not even think straight he was so frantic, looking for reasons to believe that Duo had not fallen victim to his own bad karma. That a pair of vengeful bounty hunters had not already killed him.

But there would be no proof. He could only hope that he was still alive and still making rude sarcastic quips in the face of Death.

Heero swallowed dryly and chased after the bohemian. There were faint tracks of boots cutting through the wet ditch and heading into the twisted array of trees at the base of the hill. Through vines and the thick brush Heero pushed into the darkness, his eyes detecting the dim highlights of blue moonlight on the canopy above and on the entanglement of logs, sticks, and long grasses under his feet.

Panic and dread drove a stake through him by the thunderclaps of bullets firing into the air in rapid succession just ahead. He stopped dead in his tracks. When the sounds faded into silence, he cursed hastily under his breath and went as quickly as the dark forest would allow him. He felt so stupid for wasting time-the sound of bullets being fired would lead him straight to Duo, or whatever happened to be left of him.

Why the hell did he leave? Heero was frightened but anger could always find its way around that. That damned troublemaker, why can't he just stay still for a few damned minutes!

When he would stumble in the dark, he would doggedly drag himself from the ground and wipe the slashes of blood appearing on his face from the jagged edges of logs and the sting of thorns. Long ago he had lost all purposeful sense of direction, only clawing forward with blind hopes of stumbling along the bohemian's path, blind hopes of finding Duo along a haphazard trail in the night.

The Japanese man grunted in surprise as the mud flew away beneath his feet and sent him to the ground, growling as he felt a dull discomfort beneath him. He pushed away the log that jabbed into his stomach. He crawled onto his haunches and breathed quietly, trying to interpret the darkness. It was impossible. Duo could be anywhere, and the trail of gunshots had disappeared. The moon had long since fled behind an impenetrable film of clouds and plunged the forest into true darkness. There was a slim glow of light, but none could seep through to where Heero was now. His only choice was to either stagger blindly through the dark, hoping luck would steer him, or wait until the clouds passed and moonlight returned.

On his haunches, trying to gather his wits about him, he pondered the probability of ever finding Duo before dawn, before he possibly bled dry. And worse of all, he wondered how much of his fault it would be if he never found him, alive and smiling, again.

Before more doubts could infect his mind, there was a sign of hope in nothing but black. A disturbing volley of bullets cut the air and an enraged, warning scream echoed simultaneously. Very near by. Heero twisted his head to the right and staggered to his feet, ignoring the fresh cuts bleeding along his arms from the invisible, thorny brush as he crept towards the source of the sound. He was careful this time not to bumble blindly through the dark, hovering low the ground and holding his hands out to serve as radar for unseen items in his path. Eventually, the darkness began to give into a dim illumination, one that was starchy and white and artificial.

And the voices. He could hear them now. A familiar velvet tone cried out in rough, gruff exclamations of pain and rage, amongst the snarling male tones snapping out simultaneously

Only a few more meters and the distant, washy glow had sharpened into a white glare of headlights pouring out onto the vegetation and spilling down the hill. Heero quickly hid himself behind a nearby trunk and reined in his breathing as he pressed his back against the cold, damp moss of the maple trunk. He took one last deep breath and carefully peered around. Blinding white glare was all he saw at first, painting the stressed lines of his face pale white. Eventually he gave his eyes time to adjust and absorbed the sight laid out before him.

In the thick foliage, there was a small clearing, ripped into the ground by the wheels of the several small cars that circled the dirt arena. Their headlights glared into the night and cast light on the sick event in the center circle. Heero growled, unable to distinguish faces and bodies from the blurring shadows silhouetted at this distance, and stalked closer. The strong aroma of wild berries inflamed his senses as he pressed to a thorny raspberry bush dense enough to shield him from being seen while allowing him a clear vantage. White light glared, but he glared in return and eventually he could see exactly what was happening.

But it wasn't any better.

A low, vicious growl formed in Duo's throat and hissed through his clenched teeth before a boot bashed squarely into his face and Duo's neck whipped backwards. Little torrents of blood leaked down his nose, his split lip ripping open again and bleeding down his chin when he struck the ground. On his shoulder, with all of his weight and the momentum from getting kicked in the face. He keened out, but quickly bit down on his lip swallow it, and the brunet criminal lay prone and vulnerable. The looming shadows of six men of similar height and loathsome dispositions chuckled lightly amongst themselves as one kicked dust in to Duo's dirt- and blood-crusted mouth and eyes. He spit out a mouthful of red into the dirt and coughed harshly.

They chuckled lightly, as if some one was making a cute little joke about stock prices at tee-time, dressed in pastel polo shirts, clubs underarm and lemonade in hand. It was disgusting. Heero's stomach was in absolute revulsion and he had to resist the taste of vomit rising and the urge to retch.

Only after he'd clamped his palm against his mouth and his churning constitution had calmed down did he find the nerve to look up again.

The man whom Heero recognized better as an unconscious body dangling off a semi-truck with a broken nose stepped forward again, looming over Duo. Though Heero couldn't see the expression, to hear the malicious threat in the bounty hunter's voice explained all the loathing.

"How do you like it, you fucking whore! I bet you like to be roughed around, don't you, you filthy animal!" The man named John screamed down at Duo, who was still reeling in dizzy sensations of pain and groaning reluctantly, and delivered another solid kick that sent him rolling. "You think you're so advanced, so smart! Newsflash! You're not!"

Duo struck the metal grill of a black coup with more than force than he should have and slumped to the ground, gasping into the dirt.

"You're just evolutionary pond scum clouding the surface! Nature's very own flaming fuck-ups!" John screamed, stalking after his prey. "And I'll never allow you to waltz into our lives and leech off all our honest hard work like the monsters you are!"

The bohemian had long since bled out all his pleasantries and his true anger had come to the surface. His now lethal, vengeful eyes burned death threats into the bounty hunters skin, promised to tear him limb from limb, very slowly. It would have been enough to frighten any reasonable man, but John's rage seemed to override that.

Duo struggled to twist his face out of the dirt, glaring upward, arching his lip at the sour taste of blood in his mouth. He growled loudly, sounding more like a cornered dog than a young man. His velvet voice had turned to wet gravel sliding across aluminum sheets. Pure, undiluted, useless fire. Even his teeth flashed like an animal as John finally walked over, forcefully fisted his hand around his skin, and dragged him up by the nape of his neck. Duo snarled in anger, conveying just how much affection had for him, and spat in his eye.

The bounty hunter didn't move for a second, his hand gripped around the bohemian's neck so tightly that it was turning bright red, and suddenly thrust his knee as hard as he could into his stomach.

Duo crumpled like a rag doll and lay wheezing on the ground.

John leaned down yanked him back up to eye level, and this time by his hair. Now Heero saw it: the reason Duo hadn't swung back and dished good Hell to his middle-aged captors, who were suffering from mid-life crises and persistent love handles. Industrial-strength rope had been knotted brutally around his wrists and his knees. The rope was so rough, and had been tied so tightly, that there were bleeding chaffing marks over his wrists, all caked in dirt.

Duo's shoes rested in ashes next to a red gallon of gasoline and charred matches, another blow to his pride. There was a breakout of blood extending around his waist, and tiny lines caked in his hair from the staples from the staple gun lying beside one of the bounty hunter's feet.

John allowed Duo's bare feet some purchase on the dirt as he pulled him up by his hair, but his legs seemed too overwhelmed in pain to do much but shake with rage and slump beneath him. But the bounty hunter didn't stand for that. With another merciless yank, bringing out another bestial screech of mixed rage and frustration from Duo, he hissed at him.

"And I'll get everyone of you bastard children and then hunt down each of your demented parents for bringing little shits like you into my decent world, threatening my children and my way of life!" he bellowed at Duo and his pain-ridden but defiant face. From his distance, even Heero could imagine the horrible, meaty, ignorant taste of his breath on his face. "Can you understand what I'm saying, fucking lowlife?!"

For a moment, the bounty hunter paused. His face was flushed in the stark white headlights, glaring on silently into the night. And his nose seemed to be deliciously broken from their first encounter. This fleeting pause gave the pistol-whipped criminal the opportunity to scrap up his voice to respond.

"Loud and clear, fucker," Duo rasped, smirking happily.

John's face twisted in fury and he lashed out at Duo again, this time putting his fist around his neck and squeezing it until he could feel his throat beginning to collapse beneath it. Duo was gritting his teeth and resisting the screaming pain, turning faintly purple in the face. His arms twitched violently, wanting to claw at the suffocating hand at his neck. John sneered happily and released him moments before he would have blacked out.

Throwing the bohemian forcefully into the dirt, it initiated a quick round of laughter and scattered applause from his bounty-hunting buddies. Duo's defiant grin was quickly lost to agony's hard fist as it struck him in his stomach, knocking the air and the wits from him. John dumped his body on the ground again and ground the side of his face into the dirt with his shoe for good measure, before stepping back and admiring his work.

The once graceful man managed to tax his muscles enough and clumsily lift his battered body onto all fours. He slowly turned his only to see the boot swinging toward him and the dark shadows looming in a death circle around him, stinging headlights burning behind them. The tip of the boot stabbed into a rib, propping him up onto his knees ever so gently, before one of the other bounty hunters handed John a crowbar and it came down on the back of the bohemian's head. Duo barked out a rough "Fuck!" before collapsing to the dirt again. Amazingly, he had not been instantly knocked out.

John was not satisfied yet, sneering and tossing the crowbar away. Perhaps bent on venting his rage on the not-so-innocent con man until his blood rained down on the dirt and Duo smirked in defiance no more, he lifted him up again. Luckily for Duo, it was by collar of his shirt.

He watched with sadistic pleasure as the bohemian's blood and dirt-marred face lolled backwards as if he were dead, his black baseball cap secured to his head with staples and his skin pocked with various cigarette burn marks. Cigarettes from his own pocket. But there was no smile on the bounty hunter's face. "And I swear to that good Lord in Heaven, I'll do whatever it takes to accomplish that. I will." Duo frowned at him, still half-gasping for air. "Even if it kills-well, you!"

John picked him up in one hand, as if he weighed no more than a few pounds of flesh and bones, by the chest and flung him through the air. He struck the hood of a fire-red Mustang and then volleyed to the dirt and folded lifelessly. Another snarl escaped him before his rage finally gave in, just struggling to get air into his pained lungs. His ribs ached, his chest was covered in boot marks, and his ears throbbed as if they were going to explode from having multiple guns fired right beside them. Duo Maxwell had had the shit and fight beaten out of him.

Panting silently into the dirt and closing his eyes, Duo felt the painful tugs of a morbid smile forming on his face. "At least they can't hurt the traveler," he groaned to himself.

"Got something to say, whore?!" John roared, swinging his leg forward as if snapping a critical field goal. Heero didn't dare to look away but he was still scared shitless to watch it. Duo screamed again as he crumpled to the mud a few feet away, but this time it was only in pain. There was a bleeding gash just below his collarbone where his boot had struck him.

Heero's entire body shook with rage, but he was helpless to rush in. The sick spectators all wielded considerable firepower, pistols held causally at their hips as they laughed and made light conversation. Running in like a fool would not help Duo at all, only provide him a companion on the stairs to Hell. But what the hell was he doing, standing around doing nothing? Doing nothing!

As the bohemian writhed helplessly, trying to retain a few scraps of his pride by crawling to his knees, John kneeled next to him, glancing smugly at the back of his head. "So, not so powerful now, are you?" he snarled smoothly. "No, don't try to get up. You'll only hurt yourself in your condition." John laughed infuriatingly and stood back up.

Duo gasped for air as the bounty hunter nudged him over with his boot with mocking gentility, sprawling him on his back. A mix of pain and paralyzed fury contorted his face into something mindless and ugly, anger gleaming in his violet eyes. John stood over him and surprisingly didn't kick him in the face again, just smiled down at the prostrate criminal.

"Do you really think you're a person, huh? Did you ever believe for one moment that you're even half the being that we are, you sick twisted thing? What did your mother say to you? What did she purr into your ear when you cried, realizing what you were-the monster you were?" The bounty hunter began to pace shortly around him.

"And did you believe it? Did you go out to play and think that your monstrosity had been forgiven, just like that? A kiss to make everything better, when she knew she couldn't change what was really wrong. You were just living a sick illusion. A half-life, to fit your blasphemous half-soul!"

Duo only glared in return, promising slow and agonizing murder. His agony and impossible defeat, with blood streaming out his mouth and nose, did not stop his furious stare.

"Did you hear me, you pile of shit!"

Finally, all bohemian nobility shattered. "I hear you, fucking pansy!" Duo screamed back, curling his lip dangerously as he growled in a ragged voice.

The bounty hunter roughly dragged him from the ground, snarling back at him. "What?!"

"My mother-" Duo rasped, his head whirling in a bright dizzy swirl from being moved so quickly. But the snide smirk quickly chased it away. "My mother died in an attempt to try and save me from those fucking men who slaughtered my family, my friends, and all the people who had loved me, in cold blood. She died because she knew I wouldn't waste her sacrifice. She loved me and knew I deserved to live. She wanted to save me."

"I knew her kind, philandering around shamelessly with beasts. She was a dirty, wanton slut who deserved to burn in Hell," John snarled. "She probably didn't know the horrible sacrilege she had committed, keeping slime like you here on Earth."

"What about your mother? Is she alive, John?" Duo hissed promptly, flashing lethal teeth in a grimace-smirk.

Fire flashed in the bounty hunter's eyes and he narrowed them instantly, clenching his fingers even tighter around the bohemian's collar and neck. "Your filthy tongue doesn't deserve to talk about my mother!" he screamed. He was almost horrified to see that Duo hadn't passed out yet, even though he was crushing his throat, and continued to accuse him fearlessly.

"Is she still alive? Would she be too chickenshit to sacrifice herself for your sake?" Duo stared defiantly into his captor's eyes. "Or would she realize it would be worthless? That a bigot bastard like you isn't worth a shit, not even a second glance, let alone her life?"

John snapped and violently pounded the limp waif into the ground in an indescribable wave of defensive fury. Seconds later, grimy fingers dug mercilessly into Duo's bangs and hauled him from the ground, gasping and snarling in pain. His knee crushed into the bohemian's face and again a keening of pain sliced through the midnight air. The body of the notorious con man, Duo Maxwell, collapsed lifelessly into the bloodstained dirt and fought no more. All that was left was to wait for the wings of Death to flutter around him.

Maybe this was a mistake after all… At least they can't hurt Heero this way, he thought once more, staring dazedly at the black shadows that loomed silently around him, before the swirling clouds of insanity, rage, and pain took him away into unaware blackness.