Ha ha, you thought this fic was dead, did you? Well, think again! I've just had a lot to do, and haven't been able to write much for the last few months... Plus nobody replied to the last chapter... *frowns*
Chapter 7
Crax’s flat had been above a pub, but the pub had long since shut down. The door to the pub had been boarded over, but the boards had rotted, and collapsed as soon as Visk touched them. Tentacles curling in disgust, Visk stepped over the mass of insects that had begun crawling from the wood, dazed, and pulled out his pistol.
There was no working lighting inside the former pub, but the open doorway and gaping windows provided enough light to at least give the appearance of being able to see. What had been tables were now small piles of firewood lying forlornly on the damp floor. There were several large rags that could be called blankets (but only loosely) scattered around the bar, suggesting that the place had been a home for squatters. Now, however, only the chitter of the newly-disturbed insects suggested any kind of life in the building.
Cringing as he kicked the sodden heaps of wood out of the way, Visk made his way to the stairwell at the back of the room. There was little or no light here, so Visk reached for his flashlight. When he illuminated the stairwell, he saw the most treacherous set of stairs he had ever had the misfortune to be required to climb. More than half of the steps were missing, and those that were there looked as if they’d rather not be.
Tentatively mounting the stairs, Visk wondered idly whether Crax came up and down this way every time he left the building, or whether there was a back door. He paused, then cursed himself for not looking for a back door before. Ah well, I’m half way up now. May as well go the rest of the way…
Visk sighed with relief when he reached the top without a mishap. Pausing only to conceal his pistol, he knocked loudly on the appropriate door. There was no reply, so he knocked a little harder. This time, the door creaked open slightly, letting a chink of light out of the room. Visk couldn’t make out the figure stood in the crack, since it was in silhouette, but when it spoke, he was surprised to find that it sounded distinctly mudokon.
“What you want?”
“Umm… Hello…” Visk tried to think of a way to word what he wanted to say. “Is there a glukkon by the name of Crax here?”
The mudokon’s voice was flat and guarded. “Ain’t no glukks ‘ere…”
“Well, do you know if there ever was, and where he is now?”
He could sense that the other was staring at him, and felt relieved when it turned back inside the flat.
“Oi! Crax, Glukk, ever lived ‘ere?”
There was a murmured response, then the mud turned back to Visk.
“Who wants to know?”
Visk froze. “He, umm… I’m with the police, investigating the murder of several muds. We just want to have a word with him…”
The mud paused, then seemed to relax. “There was a glukk ‘ere a while back, but he had, umm, a bit of an accident…” Visk could see the beginnings of a smile on the mudokon’s lips.
“What happened to him?”
The mudokon seemed to suppress a snigger. “Well, he slipped on those stairs out there, and while he was down, we – I mean, someone apparently took the chance to stave ‘is ‘ed in with a brick…”
Visk sighed. “You mean he’s dead? How long ago was this?”
“Good couple o’ months…”
“Well, thanks for your help, anyway…” Visk turned away and began to walk away. As he reached the top of the stairs, he imagined a glukkon tumbling down them, and shuddered. Turning back to the flat, he saw that several of the mudokons had come out, and were grinning at him ghoulishly. He walked back towards them. “I don’t suppose there’s another way out, is there?”
The mud he’d spoken to seemed almost disappointed. “Umm, yeah. Down that way, there’s some stairs on your left…”
Visk sighed with relief. “Thank you…”
* * *
Stepping out into the comparatively fresh air, Visk paused for a while, leaning against the wall and breathing deeply, regretting (not for the first time, and certainly not for the last) his choice of vocation. Then he remembered Frack, and pulled out his radio.
“Frack?”
After a few seconds of static, the reply came back: “Yeah?”
“Where are yer?”
“Just around the block from Smick’s flat, why?”
Visk set off walking in that direction as he spoke. “You’d better wait for me. Radio the rest of the lads, and tell them to meet you where you are. It’s not Crax…”
* * *
“You been checking out the flat, then?”
Frack nodded. “Yeah. Looks like there’s more than one glukk in there, unfortunately. Criminals tend to be cockier when there’s more of ’em…”
“So what’s the plan?”
Frack motioned to the other four officers to listen. “I’ll go up there and ask ’em nicely if they’d like to come to the station and answer a few questions… You guys wait in this alley. I’ll keep my radio transmitting; if yer hear anything that sounds like trouble, come and give me a hand, okay?”
Visk nodded, and the other officers followed suit. “Good luck.”
“Thanks. Fingers crossed I won’t need it…”
Without another word, Frack holstered his gun and tucked his radio into his belt. Buttoning up his jacket against the wind, he made his way out onto the street and approached the building. Visk backed back into the alley, tensing slightly, and keeping his ears peeled for the first signs of trouble on the radio. The other officers were silently attentive, listening to the distorted silence, and sensing very little else of the world. Visk wondered if raids like this were common in the force; this was his first, but that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t just extremely lucky… For all he knew –
He was jolted from his musings by the crackling of voices on the radio. He almost drew his gun and charged into the building then, but he realised in time that the voices were merely the sound of Frack and the building’s occupants talking quietly… Visk strained his ears to make out the muffled and distorted words, but was unable to distinguish anything more than a dull mumbling. He began to become accustomed to the noises. What had he been thinking? Oh yes, about raids. Odd, did all officers in stakeouts find their minds wandering like this? He thought about glancing behind him at the other officers, but found that his body was too tense to make such movements without great effort…
The gunshots his subconscious had been secretly listening for came. Leaping into action, he shot around the corner and pounded down the street towards the steps, his fellow officers not far behind. Visk paused in his haste and fumbled with the door handle, before one of the others grew impatient and shoulder-barged the door, splintering the frame and knocking the door open. Without hesitation, they charged up the stairs towards the suspect’s room. As they rounded the corner onto the landing, Visk saw the crumpled figure of Frack lying beside the open doorway, blood dripping from a wound in his upper arm. Assuming the worst, Visk ran up to him, jumping in shock as bullets whizzed around his head as he passed the doorway. Diving to the floor again beside Frack, he saw to his relief that the wound wasn’t serious, although Frack’s right arm appeared to be unusable, and he seemed to have passed out. Turning to the other officers, Visk saw that their guns were all out and ready. Shaking his head, he called out to the occupants of the flat.
“We’ve got you outnumbered! Give up now and we won’t hurt you. Carry on shooting, and we may be forced to kill you…” He was taking a huge gamble. For all he knew, they might not outnumber the flat’s occupants, and it was reasonable to assume that the glukkons inside were trained assassins, whereas his own men were rookies, like himself…
There was a pause, and the guns inside the flat were silent. Clutching his rifle in his sweaty palms, Visk leaned his head slowly round the doorframe. He didn’t see much inside, however, as the moment his head rounded the frame, there was a blaze of gunfire, and he withdrew his head swiftly. Turning, he nodded angrily to his fellow officers, and indicated that they were going in…
After making the signal, Visk dived into the room, his eyes immediately seeking shelter. After a moment’s indecision, he dived behind a sofa in one corner, managing to avoid the hailing bullets. The officer that followed him, however, was not so lucky, and collapsed to the ground, blood fountaining from the bullet-wound in his shoulder. Two of the others made it behind Visk’s sofa, while the third stopped to drag his injured colleague behind a different chair, narrowly avoiding being hit himself.
Breathing heavily, Visk tried to consider his options. Cursing himself for diving in so recklessly, he realised that he still didn’t have a clue how many criminals they were up against, or even how well armed they were. Glancing at the others, he realised that they were looking to him for orders. He wondered for a second why he seemed to have fallen into the role of leader almost by default, but decided that they shouldn’t wait around to think for too long…
“Okay,” he whispered to one of the two sligs beside him, “I’m gonna make a run for them. You come with me, you two – ” he addressed the other slig and the slig behind the other chair, “cover us. Okay?” The sligs nodded. “Okay. Go!”
Heart pounding, Visk leapt from behind the sofa, running erratically towards the table behind which the enemy seemed to be sheltering. He saw a stocky Glukkon rise up on one arm and take aim at the slig running beside him, but one of the sligs behind them managed to get a bullet into his hand, making him grunt and drop the weapon.
Then they were upon the criminals. Swinging his gun round to bear at one of them, Visk realised his mistake. The glukkon snarled, and with one swing of his arm, knocked the rifle from Visk’s arm, and knocked him to the ground with a jarring thump on the side of the head. As he sank into unconsciousness, Visk realised that they might have had a chance while they were further away, since they were more or less on equal terms with the glukkons when both were using guns. The one thing they shouldn’t have done, however, is get close enough for the glukkons to use their powerful arms…
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Guns don't kill people, People kill people! Using Guns.
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..... Do what you want...
(Psst, Dan, you want me to code it so you can put it on your site? I have a few "cheat" ways to do it.)
It's just a matter of getting it from the Brain into the Word Document.
