Chapter 5 - Garrett
The closer it got to sunrise, the more tempted I was to simply go home and crawl into bed. It seemed cruel to expect us to maintain our regular daily duties on the same day we had to stay up all night scouring the city for monsters. Irresponsible, even.
But I forced myself to keep walking, even as my feet began absently wandering towards the compound.
At this point, it was highly unlikely that I’d find anything, and despite the overwhelming feeling of disappointment, I was also immensely grateful.
The two emotions crowded my tired consciousness.
On one hand, I was desperate to feel useful—to find myself a purpose other than simply existing.
On the other, I was absolutely not confident in my ability to use the shiny dagger sheathed at my side. I’d sunk it into the practice dummy plenty of times in the past few days, but I still winced every time I felt the tip piercing the outer skin until resistance gave way beneath my hands.
What would it feel like to stab something living?
I shuddered at the thought.
The streets were surprisingly active for a weeknight, mostly occupied by university students and tourists whose schedules weren’t dictated by the days of the week.
A handful of late-night bars and clubs still had small groups of people crowding around their doors, smoking and chatting and eyeing me with interest as I walked past.
I was supposed to spend my entire first night with Brother Lucas, but he’d abandoned me early in the night with a wave and a shrug.
"You’ll be fine," he’d said in response to my feeble protests. "The chances of you running into anything are a million to one."
"Won’t you get in trouble for going home before sunrise?"
He smirked. "That’s the perk of volunteering to train a newcomer. You get to have them take over patrol while you get an early night on the worst day of the month."
And so, I wandered alone, more conscious of my clothing than I felt with other Fratelli around me. Somehow, the black felt brighter and louder when there was no one around to buffer its ostentatiousness, and I noticed more than one smirk as I meandered through the city.
I pulled my phone from my pocket as I walked past the entrance to a particularly rowdy club, trying to look busy as a crowd of women smoking cigarettes openly laughed at me.
It was just after five in the morning, and if the app on my phone was any indication, there was only an hour or so remaining until sunrise.
With a relieved sigh, I decided that I could safely begin heading back to the compound without worrying that I’d arrive too early.
I could always take the long way home to avoid looking too eager to crawl into bed.
With the sounds of laughter fading behind me, I sped up my pace slightly, suddenly feeling more tired than I’d been in a long time.
So heavy was the fog of exhaustion surrounding my thoughts that I almost didn’t notice movement coming from the alley to my left.
Had it not been for the raucous cheer, I might have kept walking, assuming that it was a rat or other small animal.
I stopped in my tracks, feeling my shoulders slump. The alley was too dark for me to see more than the outline of shapes moving against the backdrop of stone walls.
They’re just doing drugs. I tried to tell myself. Surely it was just a group of clubbers who had snuck outside to snort a few lines of cocaine before returning to their party.
I took another step forward, ready to leave them to their antics and head home. But a niggling sensation at the back of my mind slowed my forward momentum.
With a sigh, I forced myself to turn left and begin walking down the alley, keeping myself as flush against the wall as I could and focusing on the shadowy forms before me, willing my eyes to adjust to the dim light.
It was definitely a group of men—that was obvious from the voices. But I couldn’t tell exactly how many, or what they were up to.
Then, a different voice cut through the crowd, and I felt my heart stutter in my chest.
It was clearly a woman’s voice, higher and softer than the others. And where the men’s voices sounded excited, hers sounded strained. Whatever was happening at the end of this alley, she was not a willing participant.
Rage pounded behind my ears as I began to move faster, still keeping myself hidden by shadows as best as I could.
"Come on, sweetheart." One voice cut through the crowd as I got close enough to hear. "It’s an authentic American experience."
I realized with a lurch that I recognized the voice. It was the man from the day before, the one Brother Lucas and I had chased away from the fountain.
I supposed it was foolish to assume that his perversion limited itself to inanimate objects.
It was safe to assume, then, that the other men surrounding the lone woman were the friends who had been cheering him on. Bile rose in my throat as I imagined what they could be cheering this time.
"I’m not interested in that experience." Her voice was surprisingly calm and clear, and I found myself admiring her tenacity. I didn’t think that I’d be as levelheaded were I in her situation.
I could see more clearly now, and I tried to count the number of men waiting for me.
There were five of them that I could make out, and I felt myself balk.
I was a decent fighter—anyone who wanted to join the Fratelli had to prove themselves competent in combat sports—but even with the element of surprise in my favor, and the presence of a weapon, I wasn’t confident in my ability to take on so many people at once.
Again, the temptation to turn around and simply leave nearly overwhelmed me.
I was brought here to fight monsters—real monsters—not to pretend I was Batman rescuing strangers on the street. No one would fault me for walking away from a fight that I was certain to lose. In fact, no one ever needed to know…
But then the man spoke again. "I’m not really asking, honey."
And something in his voice, something in the sickly way the threat spilled from his lips with ease, unearthed a primal sort of rage somewhere deep within my belly.
I pulled my dagger from its sheath with a soft swish, just as the dull sound of a thud echoed through the alley, followed by a cry of pain.
The man at the front of the group dropped to his knees, and I couldn’t help but smile, knowing that she must have kicked him somewhere sensitive.
"Fucking bitch," another voice cut through the din. The crowd surged forward, and I knew it was now or never.
"Hey!" I shouted, stepping out from the shadows and into the dim streetlight.
In unison, their heads turned back to look at me, expressions of surprise, anger, and perhaps a little fear etched onto their faces. Behind them, I could see the woman they’d cornered. Her short, black hair gleamed in the low light, and she looked… annoyed.
What?
It was only then that I realized I’d stupidly given up one of the few advantages I’d had in my desire to appear like a hero. Namely, the element of surprise. I’d fully announced my presence, and they were not impressed.
"Are you fucking joking?" one of the men chuckled as they all relaxed their defensive stances. "It’s one of those freaks from yesterday."
"Do you just appear wherever you’re unwanted?" Another sneered as they collectively took a step toward me. "Can you not see that we’re busy?"
With as much bravado as I could muster, I clenched the dagger in my hand tighter. "I can see what you’re busy with," I said in my most menacing voice. "I’m here to tell you to stop."
They all laughed. The woman rolled her eyes.
"And what are you going to do about it?"
I moved the dagger in my hand so that it reflected the light, hoping that the threat would be enough to warn them off.
Clearly, it was not my lucky night. They did little more than laugh, fanning out as they moved slowly towards me.
I was able to dodge the first couple of blows, ducking and weaving through their fists and feeling my blade connect with something satisfyingly soft.
But it took an embarrassingly short amount of time for them to get me to the ground, and suddenly my entire world was pain as fists and feet rained down on me from all directions.
Between the barrage, I saw the woman begin to slip away, moving slowly down the alley in the opposite direction, and I felt a small bit of pride that I’d at least succeeded in distracting them long enough to let her get away.
I didn’t think that they’d kill me—they didn’t quite seem like the type—but if they did, at least I’d slip away knowing that I’d done something tangibly good in the world.
The edges of my vision began to dim, and I wondered vaguely whether one of them had kicked out the streetlight by mistake.
Just before the blackness completely overcame me, I heard a vicious ripping, followed by the collective sounds of terrified screams, and the tirade of blows stopped immediately.
Something wet and hot splashed across my face, and I thought for a moment that it might be enough to jostle me back to consciousness.
But all it did was trickle across my brow, somehow comforting against the throbbing pain, soothing me into a place somewhere beyond feeling.