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Chapter 41: Voodoo Too

  No matter what happened from here on out, I cannot let these people continue. This went beyond a personal vendetta, betrayal, what happened to Evelyn, or Johnny’s heartbreak. The fact is that the Blackwall must stand. We have nothing better, and nothing worse. Nothing stood in between us and them, except that singular wall. Whether or not I agreed with NetWatch was immaterial – we need the Blackwall. And I’m not about to let these fucking gangbangers spell the death of the human race because some fucking gonk wanted to ‘be on the winning side.’ My interest is in living, and they would jeopardize that for me – for everyone.

  “Gghhuhgggh… fooo…” I panted and heaved my way out of the ice bath, removing the hardline connection and finding a room full of the most twisted carnage I think I could’ve imagined. If there was something beyond death, Maman Brigitte and her crew surely found it.

  “Couldn’t think of a more fitting end,” Johnny mulled over their burnt-out husks, “Runner fucks had it comin’.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s still one left,” I sneered, unsheathing Shinden, “So let’s go hunting.” I looked around, noting the various corners these people could potentially be hiding in… No one was down here yet, though. Otherwise they would’ve tried unplugging me already. No, this place was sealed up, and they’d likely have to break through. Head down the stairs. Probably on the other side of the trains… Okay… Let’s get to it.

  –

  V donned her Noh mask and got to work immediately, filleting Maman Brigitte’s body so that there is no possible means by which she may return to the land of the living. Each body seemed to feel no pain whatsoever, being completely unresponsive – effectively brain-dead. But she had to be sure; she has no idea what these netrunners were capable of. But she did know what they had done, and she would never let their actions stand. Not for Evelyn, not for the many solos they buried on the beaches in unmarked graves, not for her, and certainly not for the Blackwall.

  She readied Shinden, the blade’s spirit feeling more embittered and resentful than ever before, demanding puddles of blood of the others she killed. One by one, V pierced their medullas, making sure none of these people will ever wake up again.

  With their little sacrificial circle dealt with, she proceeded up the train line, coming face-to-face with the first unfortunate Voodoo Boy of likely many. A young, proud warrior, completely on his own. He fired a single shot at her that she deflected with ease, striking him clean in the forehead with his own rifle’s bullet. The back of his head burst open like a cantaloupe, and his body slumped on the cold, grey concrete below. The deep red lighting of the room camouflaged his blood, appearing no different to spilled water at a glance.

  “Shit, she’s alive!” three more guards shouted as they ran onto the platform. V casually stepped over their fallen ganger’s corpse, raising her katana up in front of her face to protect her vital areas. The first shots came in the form of a quick four-round burst, forcing V to rotate her sword to catch each bullet in-turn, forming a plume of smoke trails arcing up over her head like a peacock showing off. Another ganger quickly took a follow-up shot, yet another single shot from an AR which V barely put any effort into deflecting – though she was less prepared for the shotgunner.

  He rounded the corner with a fully-loaded smart shotgun with 24 pellets, catching V completely by surprise. She did her best to drop the sword to his level, blocking a few of the pellets as the rest impacted her groin and right hip, sending her reeling backwards in pain. While she blocked all the important areas, she still felt at least one pellet lodged under the skin as she launched herself forward, reprioritizing him at once.

  The seasoned veteran shrugged off the pain and brushed his shotgun aside with her sword’s reach, forcing him to completely whiff his follow-up shot. She took one more step forward and danced the sword around with exceptional speed, eviscerating him in a tenth of a second and plunging the sword directly into his spinal column. As he fell down and the line of fire opened again, she tugged the blade out with her left hand and got right back to work. Though she felt more dextrous fighting left-handed than before, she was by no means better than with her right. Still, just two more guards proved little trouble for her, certainly in these cramped confines.

  Having memorized the route on her way in here, V knew what to expect next – the cement-filled utility hallway. A dark, claustrophobic, single-file hall, filled with four people running out to meet her.

  She didn’t keep them waiting for long, rounding the corner herself instead and catching them by surprise for a change.

  “FUCK ME!” a woman impulsively screamed just before V took her head clean off. Her sword moved so quickly that the other Voodoo Boys were simply stunned.

  V broke off into a full-on sprint, lunging herself at the second VDB and impaling him in the neck, rotating his spine with her momentum as she hung on to the handle. She violently twisted and ripped the sword out, transitioning back to left-handed wielding in the cramped quarters and completely bisecting the third man’s torso. His implants briefly bathed the area in blue light as the sparks and electrical arcs danced like lightning. In the same breath, she carried the blade up and over before plowing it down on the final poor soul, slicing diagonally through their head and right arm. All four bodies fell at nearly the same time, painting the walls in reds and blacks.

  Placide had other ideas; he knew V’s weaknesses, and held back his final stand with his best men, poised at the far end of a narrow hallway, leaving V with very little room to maneuver her sword. “YOU DARE… COME INTO OUR HOUSE?!” he shouted down to her, his booming voice echoing all the way to the train station as he finished loading his shotgun’s magazine with extremely rare flechette rounds.

  No one in that hallway even stood a chance, with V carving her way up like a well-practiced butcher, scoring hit after hit by using what little cover she had and creating as slim a profile as possible against the jagged brick walls. Her bloodied, dark, digital camouflage uniform suited the environment perfectly, with the enemy focusing solely on her mask and shoulders, making it easy for her to defend herself. Gangbangers were of little consequence, but she still had to make it through Placide.

  He triggered an emergency door as she came up, sealing the train station behind her and trapping her in the church with him. He wanted her all to himself, for the death of Maman Brigitte. For years, he served to back her threats with gold. For every merc she ordered killed, he was the one to do it. His presence carried weight – not just with his physically-imposing build, but his spirit as well. A strong, hardened, Haitian fighting man. He could scarcely believe that this ranyon, casually walking into the main hall and presenting her sword, was to be his match.

  So be it.

  –

  My eyes darted down to the standard-issue pump-action shotgun, the classic M2038 Tactician. A simplistic, blunt weapon – but I didn’t trust it. Placide was a backyard street fighter, I knew the type well. Someone of his stature didn’t rise through the ranks off his strength alone. He was cunning and effective, using whatever tool was most efficient and no less. He knew he would likely be fighting against one person, that person having a sword – which means a shotgun, since he knows that cannot block every single pellet. Much like the one lodged in my hip. No… he’s got something else in store… He can’t quickhack me, otherwise it’d leave him wide-open. I already killed everyone else so that’d be suicidal… Why not a semiautomatic, though…? Wait…

  –

  Her feet began moving before he had time to pull the trigger. “FUCK YOU!” Placide screamed as he fired a single shot that just missed V, peppering the walls where she once stood with jagged, broken shards.

  –

  Flechette rounds, specifically designed to pierce armor. A single direct hit with one of those bastards would turn my insides into soup.

  A second shot decimated the wall I was standing behind, thinning the stone to within an inch of its life. He had eight shells in his weapon; I couldn’t stay here. I may eat one shell… But–FUCK! Third shell just penetrated right beside my head… Alright…

  Dance with me…

  Sideways Chassé, keep low, two steps. Half-sword to absorb the shot. One, two… He shot high… guard up, and riposte. Strike center of mass.

  Sandevistan. Quick, effective. Anticipated him opening the distance… Keep the momentum. Hands first. Use his anger, give him a target. One too fast.

  Fired again. Five shells expended. Tuck in the arms, give me a count… one, two, three, four, one, two, one, two… Sixth shot. Still aiming high. Through the wooden door. He’s professional. Will shoot at my torso or feet next.

  Easy… Take it easy…

  No, high again.

  Drop down now.

  Counterbalance off right foot. Take the pain.

  Reload. Had an empty chamber to begin the fight. Perfect.

  Explode up. Drag the left foot. Quick flick, and burst forward.

  One, two, three, four…

  Get rid of the weapon. Slash the hands and torso. Head likely too protected.

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  Stop.

  Pivot on the right ankle. Heel turn. Transition grip.

  Shinden kicks the weapon to his right.

  Pull back, thrust forward with the left leg.

  Fin.

  –

  Anticipating that Placide would go for the weaker part of the wall, V launched herself down and sideways to avoid the opening shot. She timed it perfectly to his slam-firing technique, catching two flechettes with her sword and sending them center-mass, catching Placide completely off-guard. He recoiled back, the darts piercing his abdomen and exiting out the back. It was the first time in weeks that anyone had drawn blood from him in anger.

  He retreated to his secondary position beside the wall, making sure to place at least two hard edges so that his enemy could not get behind him. He fired another shot at her torso through the wooden door leading to the basement, the largest part he was likely to hit. With a solid wall between himself and the enemy, he could not see her, but she could not effectively deflect anything.

  Failed again. The wooden splinters danced around the room, clean of any blood and viscera. He had but one shot left.

  V partially left cover, and Placide grinned in anger before pulling the trigger for the final time. But not before V dropped down to her lowest point, practically going prone and causing most of the flechettes to completely miss their mark, save for two which lightly grazed the top of her head.

  As soon as he reached for another shell in his pocket, V shot up like a missile and rushed straight towards him. With his Sandevistan overheated and his hands fumbling, Placide’s fate was sealed. V neatly carved the sword to the tendons of his wrists, not quite dismembering him thanks to his titanium bones. He instantly lost his grip on the shotgun, and before it could fall a single inch, her blade had already met his heart. The laws of physics state that a force is equal to mass times velocity, and with an instrument as tough and thin as hers going at the speed of a pistol round, it produced an effect not unlike a depleted-uranium slug to the chest.

  The battle lasted a full minute from the time V woke up to the time she pierced Placide’s heart, twisting the sword to make doubly sure he would soon be joining Maman Brigitte. Time enough for her to have expended several days’ worth of energy. Thoroughly exhausted, V struggled to stand up and relied purely on her adrenaline to keep her moving.

  –

  “Smooth,” Johnny grinned as Placide fell into a pile of lifeless jelly on the carpet. How kind of him to not load an extra shell into the chamber before coming in here, otherwise I might’ve been in trouble.

  “Yeah?” I smiled behind my mask, “My performance okay?”

  “Exquisite,” Johnny replied with plenty of emphasis on that first syllable. I couldn’t actually tell if he was being sarcastic or not… Hell, I remembered him always taking the piss about me using a sword. But it truly was my most effective tool in here. Never needed to be reloaded, never jammed up, I had control over where I wanted it. All things that Placide failed to do with that shotgun of his. Whatever gets the results, I say…

  I looked back at the absolute carnage I wrought, blood still dripping from my sword. A lot of people died here. A lot of bad people. And a lot of brainwashed people as well. These Voodoo Boys… they treated life so carelessly. It sickened me to think of what could’ve come if this cell had actually managed to breach the Blackwall. If I’d played into Placide’s game, died, and the Relic fell into their hands. If Alt was swayed, even controlled by them…

  Liars. Manipulators. Abusers. They deserved their fates.

  But if I really believed that, then why does my hand tremble so…

  Whatever, let’s just throw my stuff in the trunk and get the hell out of here–

  No… nonono, wait…

  Johnny–GAAAHK!

  My head suddenly erupted into seething, horrendous pain… I ripped my mask and scarf off, throwing them in the car and collapsing in a puddle of bloody vomit in the parking lot… No… no, this was a bad one–AAHHGH!

  “J-Johnny…” I groaned and stuttered, barely managing to get back on my feet long enough to find a chair to sit down in.

  “That the biochip?” he asked me, appearing on the sidewalk as my vision blurred and distorted.

  “This? Oh, no, it’s just my hormones– YES, OF COURSE IT’S THE FUCKING BIOCHIP!” I shouted in frustration, “This is the third time this… this has… happened!!”

  “Okay, first of all, you gotta chill the fuck out ‘fore you burst a blood vessel,” he demanded, taking a seat next to me… GUUH!

  Fuck… this never gets any… any easier…

  “That was your ticker. Sit and rest. Don’t need ya flatlinin’ while we got a job to do,” he said as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, you… you fuck… Mikoshi this, destroy Arasaka that… You’re… like a broken record…”

  “Heh, maybe you really are turnin’ into me.”

  Wait… Why am I holding a cigarette… where did I get… Evelyn’s case?! Johnny… what the fuck!

  “The day I become more like you, I’ll pull the fucking trigger myself!” I screamed through bared teeth, throwing the cigarette away, “You’re a manipulator, an egotist, a cynic… every time you open your mouth, it’s to belittle others or prop yourself up on a pedestal you didn’t earn!”

  “Y’know, we get along as the need arises,” he said as he leaned back and enjoyed his smoke, “You should really learn to trust me more.”

  “What, place my trust in an egomaniac with a pathological need for attention and a faulty memory, who can’t even remember the name of a fucking club, let alone one of the most important parts of his life?!” I remorselessly shot back at him, “Are we really gonna do this now?! In the parking lot of the church we just annihilated?”

  “What better place to be to confess one’s sins, am I right?” he grinned.

  “Come on, Johnny, I’m being serious here…” I sighed, “What’s it gonna take for you to actually take a critical look at your life, at what you do to people? How many more have to suffer because of you before you realize that maybe you’re the problem?”

  “What, and you think I wanted this?!” he annoyedly fired back, “Think I wanted to wind up in some corpo-cunt’s head, dealin’ with her fuckin’ baggage and bitchy attitude–”

  “Oh, you’re one to talk about baggage and being a bitch, Johnny.”

  “Yeah, yeah, fuckin’ dodge the problem by turnin’ it around on me, s’all you’re good for.” God, you’re such an asshole…

  I leaned forward and stared at the cigarette on the ground, the one I tossed before…

  “Johnny…?” I hesitantly said, “Why are you doing this?”

  “Oh come on, V, you know why,” he replied with that same sardonic tone, “Somethin’ somethin’ Relic, somethin’ somethin’ Mikoshi. I’m not havin’ this argument again. Change the fuckin’ channel.”

  “No… I mean, why are we always doing this… Are we just… destined to never actually get along?”

  “What, you actually wanna put in a little effort for once?” he shook his head at me, “Color me surprised.”

  “No… Johnny… I’m sick of this… Please, can we just for once sit down and talk?” I begged him, “We have to live with each other every second of every day… You can’t tell me you’re not exhausted. This is torture.”

  “Fine…” he sighed, “I told you what I want. So let’s hear it, then. What is it that you want?”

  “To live? I dunno,” I shrugged, “I… I don’t know anymore…”

  “You said you always wanted to be a dancer, right?”

  “Yeah…” I muttered pensively, staring at the ground, “I remember you telling me this memory you had about me… When I was just a toddler, I remember… uh… going up to this Shinto shrine. It was a warm, misty evening, with dry lightning in the distance. The sky was tinted this bright orange. There was this woman there playing a soft, melancholic piece on an erhu, with a harp rounding out the sound…” I tapped my boot with anxiety, having never told this story out-loud myself, “I guess my mother thought I’d gone off with the other children indoors. But I was always a bit of a rebel, heh… I walked alongside this big, long pathway towards the music. And… and that’s when I saw her.”

  “Dancing?” Johnny asked me.

  “No… it was… something more than that,” I thought to myself, “She moved like water… I remember being utterly captivated by the way her hair blew in the wind. How her kimono flowed around her curves. She looked like a spirit. Every movement was graceful, flawless, effortless… and she was smiling. I had never… never… seen my mother smile. Not once before, not once since. But as she rotated, I caught a glimpse of her face, and it was the most beautiful, elusive thing I had ever saw… I had never seen her so vulnerable.”

  “And you wanted to recreate that for yourself?”

  “No,” I shook my head, “I wanted to be the one smiling. To be the one to bring children to tears with joy. To create wonderful, mesmerizing, and fleeting moments of beauty with my body… The woman I saw that day was as mythical as a leopard, her movements so captivating. I… I wanted to be her…” I could feel a tear streaming down my cheek, “Instead, I became a swordfighter… She practiced with polearms and swords because it was her passion, and she shared that passion with me… But I never told her that all I wanted to do was dance. To make other people happy…” I picked up my head and looked around, “And now I’m here. Halfway across the world… And I don’t know what I want anymore…”

  “Nobody said you can’t make that kinda impact anymore,” Johnny said as he leaned over the table between us, “They say that death is the measure of who a person really is. They reveal themselves on their deathbed. So my question to you is, how’re you gonna react when the bells start tollin’.”

  “I… I don’t know…” I sighed deeply, “Johnny… mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “When you died… what did it feel like?”

  He took a long drag of his cigarette and stared at his knees. “Was on top of the world when it happened… death, failure… not an option, not a thought… But death… death feels real now. It’s only now that I know it.”

  “What do you mean, now that you know it?”

  “Mikoshi… It felt… I dunno, like sleep…? Lacked awareness, any sense of time, didn’t mark it…”

  “What was it like? In Mikoshi. Did you… feel anything?”

  “They did what they wanted to me in there… I just remember… a cold, black void… fear. Screams… Or was that your death…?”

  “That sounds horrible…” I whispered to myself, “I’m sorry you had to go through that…”

  “If I could only see inside Saburo’s head,” Johnny’s face went into a half-smile, his comment drawing a slight chuckle from the both of us, “What goes through the mind of someone who creates a place like that… You know what I’m talkin’ about. A desire to control someone. Not just brainwash or manipulate, but full-on control. Like a puppet. And Arasaka’ve taken that idea, patented it, and wrapped it up in a neat little bow… prolly got teams of netrunners workin’ for ‘em right now, not knowin’ up from down cause their brains are bein’ reprogrammed like computers.”

  “Yeah…” I breathed out, “I wonder what that’s like…”

  “You don’t want to, trust me,” he said while breathing smoke out his nose, “Imagine that you were told your whole life that two plus two equals five. You put it on tests, your mom and dad sat you down and studied it with you. It’s not a matter of psychology, it’s a matter of data. If a part of your mind thinks that two plus two equals four, they can rewrite that code and you’d never know the difference. All your memories, who you are as a person, everything – would say that two plus two equals five,” he took a brief pause, “Imagine doin’ that to someone. Rewritin’ everything you personally disagree with, shaping them like a fucking golem made of clay. That’s what Mikoshi does.”

  “And that’s what you’re doing to me…” I sighed pensively, “Changing, erasing me whether I want it or not…”

  “Yeah, I know…” he nodded, “That’s why I’m gonna fix it.”

  “You’re gonna fix it?” I furrowed my brow and got up, “So I’m guessing this is your declaration that you know what you’re gonna do once I give up my body, right?”

  “If you got a better plan of takin’ out that abomination then I’m all ears,” he said, reappearing next to a railing as I leaned on it, “How else we gonna get Alt into Mikoshi?”

  “No, I know… I’m just… well, not thrilled about this whole thing. To put it mildly.”

  “As if this was my grand plan all along,” he crossed his arms and kicked a couple cans down the sidewalk, “I’m just wingin’ it the same as you.”

  “Oh, is that what this is?” I grumbled, “I guess that makes sense. Gone from wanting to kill me to not wanting to kill me to wanting to kill me again, now we’re back…”

  “Here we go…”

  “Look, Johnny, I know where this is going by now, okay? And I will not help you nuke Arasaka Tower again…” I scoffed, getting into my car with Johnny reappearing in the passenger seat, “Do you even know what happened after? Do you even care?”

  “Course I do. Leveled the whole goddamn place and for one reason or another, Mikoshi just pops back up like it never left, same old story,” he rolled his eyes, “Now’re we gonna get the hell outta here or what. I’m hungry.”

  “Oh you’re hungry, are you?!” I hissed, “You know what, fine.” I stomped on the throttle and peeled out of the parking lot at full-speed, driving the wrong way down the road until I found a skip in the median.

  “Where you headin’ off to so fast?” Johnny laughed, “Oh yeeeah, another one of these drives, I love it.”

  “Shut up,” I yelled as I crossed the river heading into the city.

  “Seriously, just slow the fuck down and let’s talk this out.”

  “Alright, fine, fine…” I shook my head and let off the throttle, “So talk.”

  “I know you got some shit goin’ through your mind, V,” he stirred in his seat, “So let’s hear it.”

  “Fine… you wanna know?” I could feel my lips begin to tremble again, “Alt’s plan… eliminating my soul to save my memory, it… I don’t… I don’t know about this, man,” I sighed… wait, what was I doing in the City Center, of all places… “I… I can’t, I…”

  “Alright, let’s getcha home…” he frowned, “C’mon.”

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