The Streets of Boston - Chapter 12: Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

• Posted by Teineeva June 6, 2016 - 1,436 views

  

  November 9, 2287

  I would have to get another suit. Bloodstains were nasty enough to get out before the war, but now that dry cleaners aren’t a thing anymore, this one’s ready to be tossed away. I would probably have to leave the city soon though. Important matters required my attention.

  The pond at the back of Diamond city was deserted and so were the fields. Even the dj of the local radio station had run out of his crappy caravan to watch or help out with the fire. It was surprising how fast it had taken on, despite the heavy rain of earlier today. At least that calmed down a bit.

  I plunged my scarlet hands into the waters of the pond, ignoring the sound of my geiger counter ticking away, I could kill someone every time I heard that sound. Bloody geiger counters. The blood on my hands was easily washed off. People tend to say that innocent blood weighs on your soul and clings to you like nothing else, but to be completely honest it was rather easy to get rid off, with the right mentality and a bit of water or abraxo cleaner.

  I say that, but for whatever reason I was still holding onto that old letter opener, and had plunged it into the water along with my trembling hands. Why was I trembling? I laughed, don’t tell me I’ve grown soft; it’s too late for that bullshit. I just murdered two woman, one of whom was just a kid, and lit their “house” on fire. Not to mention what happened in between.

  Piper was extremely resilient and knew how to withhold information. I wiped the spit off my face. Nasty bitch of a reporter. The flaying did eventually get to her tough. It was sad I had to put her down, I quite liked her. If she wouldn’t have been so obsessive over those synths we might even have become partners. A reporter and a mob boss, ha! The world had seen worse duos. What information she did give was rather surprising.

  I looked back at the letter opener, it was odd how effective the thing was at removing skin, and flesh. I knew how to break fingers and ribs like the best of them, but I needed a tool for the rest of the work. And I couldn’t find a knife. I’m pretty sure there were knives in the kitchen but I couldn’t really let Piper out of my sight. Damn, I had to hit her unconscious a few times to stop her from trying to call out for help. Sure I could have cut out her tongue, but I needed her information, I needed to know if there were any loose ends that still needed to be tied up.

  Regardless the look in her eyes when I shot the brat was priceless. The utter terror was delicious. I shot her in the back instead; can’t have people fleeing on me now, can I?

  It took a while before it sank in who I was though, she kept calling me a Synth, mostly in combination with whatever insult she could attach to it. It was only when I cut into the palm of my hand and let her smell and taste the blood that she believed me. I was no synth, I am Simon Lafoy.

  Once my hands were clean I stood up and looked at the Wall. the spectacle of flames and the shadows they projected were utterly breathtaking. I found myself an old fauteuil and took in my handywork. The flames that licked the edges of the old Publick Occurrences office acted as a projector, illuminating the Wall and drew all kinds of animated shadows and forms upon the green metal screen. I wondered if anyone else was looking at my craftsmanship like I was right now, the mayor perhaps? The bastard probably had a way better view than me from his high tower in the stands. Although I guess my seating could be called “rustique”.

  I hated “rustique”.

  I eyed the stands in envy, someday I would make sure I would be sitting there. After all how hard could it be to convince these plebeians that I would be a good mayor? Who was I kidding? I didn’t even have to convince them. Who I did have to convince were the big players: the Latimers, the Hawthornes and Cooke. And I already had a place where I could start. But first I would have to act on the information Piper gave me.

  I never thought I would hear his name again but apparently he was still alive. Resilient bastard. I don’t know how he did it, but he survived. Nicky, Nicky bloody Valentine was apparently still around and the only one to know who I was.

  The question was, would he recognize me, and would I recognize him? Nick and I used to have a deal. See, Nick was a cop before the war, and the man was obsessed with taking down Eddy, not because he particularly supported the US law and order department, but out of a personal vendetta. So when the law couldn’t help him any more, he came to me; the other end of the law, the law that reigned the parts of the city where the police didn’t dare coming through. Eddy and I were the real kings of Boston…

  I looked back at my hands to find that they were still covered in blood, didn’t I wash it off? I walked back to the pond and dipped them into the cold water again. I must have nearly jumped into the air when I heard the crackly voice beside me:

  “Hello darkness, my old friend

  I've come to talk with you again

  Because a vision softly creeping

  Left its seeds while I was sleeping

  And the vision that was planted in my brain

  Still remains

  Within the sound of silence”

  As soon as I had gotten back to my senses I noticed the old radio on a small table just a few steps away, had it always been there? I didn’t care, this wasn’t my taste of music anyway. I washed away the blood and stood up.

  And as I walked away fading into the eerily lit darkness, a bloodied letter opener was stuck in a sizzling radio near an old radioactive pond. An almost poetic end to such a hallowed evening.

  November 10, 2287

  I walked down the alleyway until I spotted the red neon sign: “Valentine detective agency”. Typical, the old cop becoming a detective in a world like this. He and I were the proof it was damn hard to get rid of old habits. I smiled. His habits were probably more sanitary.

  I knocked on the door. No answer, but I could distinctly hear a woman sobbing on the other side. That was probably Ellie, Nick’s assistant, just like Nick himself she was a close friend of Piper so she was probably quite distraught by the news. Apparently they had found the carbonized corpses of both sisters buried in the rubble of their old house, some striking news indeed. What they hadn’t found and would never find were the bullets, one had been lodged in Nat’s suprasternal notch, a very fine shot. The other in Piper’s back, just above her Lumbar Vertebrae. I can still remember how hard I used to laugh at my father when he told me I would have to follow a year of medical school while he taught me the basics of the craft. I still couldn’t believe how handy it had become to know how and where to cut people. The fact that I had been stupid enough to pack my vault’s library with some basic medical texts had also helped. You tend to never forget something you have read a few hundred times.

  Anyway, I knocked harder and this time the sobbing voice replied.

  “We’re closed, come back when the detective gets back.”

  “Sorry Miss, but I really need his services, could you please tell me where I can find him?” I answered, as calmly as I could. The door slid open. And a young woman, with cool brown hair and irritated amber-green eyes appeared, it was clear she had just wiped away the waterfall that had been her face..

  “You can’t, he has disappeared. He went away on a case a while ago and hasn’t come back since. So we’re closed, indefinitely.”

  “Please, I really need his help. It’s a matter of life or death,” his specifically, “if you can tell me where he went I might be able to ask the mayor for help, he owes me a favor.”

  “Everyone in town knows the mayor won’t move a finger for the disappeared. But if you really want to help, I’ll tell you.” She opened the door and beckoned me to come in.

  “Thank you, I would very much appreciate that.”