Shattered Ladder 1-35 (Patreon)

Ken sat at the scarred kitchen table, empty cup warming his palms. The amber-eyed demon sat across from him, legs kicked up on an empty chair as she picked at a hangnail like he wasn’t even there. Mmm.

He would probably find that more annoying if he hadn’t stunk up the place just minutes ago with the usual morning brew, the smell of the tonic still lingering.

Thick in the plastic cups, it almost stuck to the surface of the apartment’s walls, sinking deep into the threadbare couch and sitting heavy in the kitchen’s stagnant air. Despite it all, Ken drank it down as he always did, the taste of wet copper and bitter earth its own comfort. If anything, he liked it.

“...blegh.” A chunk came loose as his tongue probed his teeth, the taste making a quick and unwanted return.Well, he was used to it.Above all else, it was a reminder, though; a reminder that he was still rebuilding himself from the inside out.

“Mornin’, friends!” The apartment door swung inwards with a shout that neither of them wanted to hear this early in the day. 

“Not your friend.”In Zee’s case, probably not ever.

Ignoring the immediate put-down, Don practically vibrated into the room, a twitchy ball of red-hair and grease-stained clothes looking oddly happy as he slammed the door shut behind him with one foot. “Friends, companions, coworkers…” 

Bouncing into the kitchen, he clapped his hands together as he kept on making more noise than necessary. “Hope you enjoyed the sludge, 'cause we got a job.”

Zee looked up, eyes half-lidded. “Who decided that?”

“You do, Zee-lady,” Don pointed two cocked finger guns at the blonde girl without missing a single beat. “That’s why I’m bringing it your way first. You know how much I respect the chain o’ common, yea?”

Zee slowly returned her attention back to her toenail, eyes narrowed as she let out a low sound from the back of her throat. “Talk.”

“Right-right.” Almost giggling, Don hopped onto the edge of the kitchen counter, too happy and eager as he swung his legs. 

A guy that size… Ken rolled his eyes. 

Hell, a guy Don’s age acting the way he did sometimes left Ken confused how he stayed alive for so long in this messed-up city. Then… 

Well, then he remembered the other times.

“So, so, soooo, your boy tapped one of his contacts, looking to get a fix on something.” Don clicked his tongue, eyebrows jumping.“Drugs?”Don shook his head at Zee’s quick question. “Nah.”“Shooters?” This time, she sounded a little less annoyed and more… curious?

“Nope.” Donny shook his head again, slower this time as he leaned over in Zee’s direction. “Ain’t think you liked ‘em.”“...uh-huh.” Now, the annoyance was back. “Who’s the contact?”“Real friendly guy.” The redhead nodded even quicker than how he’d shaken his head, gaze turned away from Zee all of a sudden. “R-reliable. Hooked us up with a run before.”

Zee’s finger stopped picking, eyes flicking up as her lip curled high in a sneer. “It better not be that ‘Spit’ sicko.”Don didn’t answer, mouth half-open.“Monkey?”

A sound left Don’s throat; something that was half-groan, half-strangled cough. “I mean, I wouldn’t call him sick… He got loose lips. Stuff comes out, boss-lady.”

Ugh. Ken’s own lips turned down. 

He didn't like Spit, either. The guy was a twitchy, gap-toothed mess who absolutely earned his name the way every single sentence came with an atomized spray of saliva and enough of the stuff that left his lips constantly wet. 

Clean run or not, Ken had gotten a faceful the last time they met the guy. Even still… “What’s the job?”

 “Oh, nothing crazy,” Don waved a hand, grin snapping back into place as he grabbed his own portion of tonic. “Like a little smash and grab. Easy money. In, out, grab a noodle bowl on the way home. The usual.”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

“THE USUAL?!”

A scream tore free of Ken’s throat in the chaotically smoke-choked space of the side-alley, vision blocked to no more than two feet in the gray hell.

Nnnnghhh! His left hand was locked in a death grip around a wrist, a street-grade clunker-worthy implant bolted onto an arm stump aimed just past him. Jutting out of the end of that arm-plant and inches from Don’s panicking face was eight inches of jagged rusty iron.

“G-get her off!” Don scrambled backward on the damp trash-layered concrete, boots slipping on something slick and foul as he shrieked. 

The attacker snarled as the hood of her ratty jacket fell back, showing off a shock of neon-blue hair and a face that would have been really pretty if half her teeth hadn’t been swapped out for iron spikes. Son of a-!Servos in the rough implant whirred as the arm jerked back, nearly pulling free from Ken’s grip on a reversed path from Don’s stomach. Ken dug his feet into the ground, grip tight and muscles in his arm bunching up as he refused to give the psycho stabber an inch. Leverage… He needed to keep the leverage he had. Twist the radius.

His arm moved, forcing a yelp from the snarling attacker. Now lock the elbo-

He didn't get the chance.

A blur of pink flew fast up and into Ken’s field of vision, a pair of bright boots slamming a brutal spear of a dropkick into the blue-haired woman’s chest.

The impact sounded no different than a dropped melon, air leaving the attacker's lungs as the force ripped the arm out of Ken’s grip. The woman had as much ability to resist the blow as her ribs did as she flew free and came to a hard stop into a stack of rusting drums, body an unmoving slump. 

Ken’s eyes snapped back over to Don, the other boy almost flat against the opposite alley wall and panting like he was the one who had just been fighting.

“THE USUAL?” 

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The first hour had actually been fine. Super easy, honestly. A straight logistics run that hadn’t even sent them all that far out of their own neighborhood, making the whole thing barely an inconvenience.Zee set the pace, parting the crowds nearest her as a pink warning sign. While Don mapped the route as usual, Ken took the rear of the group, C-Card hanging free and shining dully around his neck. They’d hit the storage unit exactly where Spit had told Ken the package would be, all of them staring at a sealed gray case easily able to fit into a pack. 

Not too big, and not all that heavy either.

“You’re the mule, monkey.” Meaning Zee immediately shoved it into Don’s arms. “Carry it.”

All in all, pretty simple and clean.

At least, it had been up until the last three stacks of the return route.

That was when the math changed and Don looked up. “We got eyes.”

Ken turned his attention to the right, tracking Don’s gaze to a group of four in ratty hoods, oversized down to their knees, cutting a parallel line through the crowd a street over and keeping pace. Implants. Yeah, they had them from what he could make out under their cloaks, but Ken didnt need to look long enough to notice them.

And that wasn’t all he noticed, either.

Their stuff was the crude kind, street-grade limb replacements that just fit wrong on their bodies for some reason. Even more so than cheap clunk-parts did, from what Ken had seen. One of them caught Ken looking, her metal fingers vanishing deeper beneath her hood before she blended back into the crowd. 

“Yeah, we gotta move faster.” Ken didn’t need to look at Don to hear the panic. “Like now now.”

Two more hooded figures stepped out of a cross-alley, as soon as Don said it, both of them cutting off their front path. 

Ken’s eye spasmed, a twitch in his left that was already annoying. Six now. He knew for a fact that if he turned around, he’d see the other four closing in. Please don’t be there… please don’t…

He cast an eye back. Fu-!

“By now,” Don squeaked, “I mean nownownow!”

They didn’t question it a second time.

Not even Zee said a word as they took off through the backstreets of the Four-Four.

The second they started pushing it, Ken heard a distinctly female yell echo off the corrugated metal walls behind them, the narrow alley walls throwing the sound in a half-dozen different directions.

“Monkey, talk!” Zee’s command came loud and angry, the girl not even slightly winded as she rounded a sharp corner, pink soles splashing through toxic puddles. “You know these guys?”

“Know is a real funny word, boss-lady!” Don huffed, heavy metal case banging against his back with every step he took. “And guys is just wrong there!”

“Talk faster!” Some poor guy got his eardrums and ribs abused as Zee’s shout blasted him in the ear the same moment she shoved him aside. “Now!”

“Okaykaykay!” A bit of hysteria in his voice, Don took in as big of a breath as he could manage as he started rattling off words Ken tried to pay attention to. “So that’s the Bolt-Ons! Nice girls, very nice girls, yeah, good with money management and bad with… uh…” 

The taller boy took in a hiss of air. “Let’s call impulse control? Yeah, that. But, yeah, I know of them, yeah!”

Bolt-Ons? Ken had exactly enough time to register the ridiculous name before one of the hooded figures rounded the corner behind them, surprisingly fast on heavily modded legs that were more cheap metal than actual flesh.

“Donny—!” 

A grating female voice barked from behind them, the sound almost making the redhead trip forward mid-step as his head snapped around. “Meeena, heyhe-nononono!”

Ken looked back over his shoulder just in time to see their pursuer’s arm whip forward, a small dark can taking to the air as his eyes went wide once.

The cylinder beeped once in midair.

A second later, the half-crowded alley went dark, a chunk of the space enveloped in a cloud of chemical-thick gray smoke as screams and shouts filled the District 44 backstreet.

God, what the! He could barely see his hands, anything past his fingers in the darkness too hidden for him to make out. Sounds, though; there was plenty of that, the chaotic sounds of bystanders panicking as they coughed and hacked and scrambled for safety. 

Something heavy slammed into Ken from behind and even half-blind, Ken knew that panicked screaming voice. Don! He spun, pivoting in his cloth slippers in time to spot the glint of metal rushing out of the smoke.Right toward Don’s stomach.His hand lashed out on instinct, grip latching around the metallic wrist before it could go any further. “Shegonnakillmekillmekillme!” Don screaming right in his ear did not help his focus as he struggled gainst the whirring servos of the attacker’s implant.All Ken could do was scream back. “THE USUAL?!”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

And now, here they were.

“Keep moving!” Zee grabbed Ken by the collar of his green tunic, yanking him forward and away from the unconscious blue-haired woman. “We’re close enough!”

Three bodies bolted out of the smoke cloud, a slightly wider but just as congested street in front of them. Don was still wheezing, face patchy and as red as his hair as he did his best to keep up with Ken and Zee.

“S-so, Bolt-Ons, yeah!” Don gasped out between strides, still trying to explain while running with his life on the line. “Small crew! Up-and-coming! Well, there’ve been a lot of Bolt-Ons over the years, but these are like, I dunno, the twentieth try at it or something?”

Ken matched Zee’s pace as he looked back at Don, his lungs enjoying air that wasn’t really clean at all but it was at least breathable. “What does that mean?”

“All-girly crew!” Don panted. “Former streetslits—that’s, uhhhh....”

A ragged sound left him, a throat clearing that sounded like it wasn’t the fault of the smoke they’d just been choking on. “Certain kind of workers, without crew protection, who do… uh, a different kind of work. Hard out there without someone at your back. Especially if you're all about the business of making people happy-happy, y'know?”

Ken stumbled slightly, thoughts grinding as heat rushed up his neck and competed with the adrenaline already making his heart race. His eyes snapped over to Zee, their boss’s face red as he felt. For the first time since he’d met her, the big tough gang girl was completely silent as she staring dead ahead and refused to slow down.

“So… Bolt-Ons…”

“For the obvious reasons!” Don answered Ken’s non-question with a loud laugh, voice cracking at the same time. “Usually, they do other parts but the arms and legs are newer! They run jobs now! We're apparently running the same one!”

They’re fast. Ken’s eye twitched again, the sound of heavy clanking still echoing not too far behind them. 

“You two might be in a little trouble with them, not just me. They can tell you’re Walkers!”Ken aimed a glare Don’s way, confusion and irritation fighting for a place on his face. “What does that have to do with anything?”“Most streetslits run from Walkers down here!” Donny let out another laugh, but this was one was clearly a lot more forced. “You hardbodies don’t know your own strength! Or you do, and a bunch of you are just sick in the head!”

Ken’s stride hitched again, Don’s implication bouncing around in his skull as he thought about what strength like his or Zee’s could do to a normal person in a private moment, on purpose or not. 

He didn't have much time to process it, though, not when two more hoods dropped from a short rooftop right in front of them, blocking the path. Crude chrome glinted under neon as Zee screamed an order and refused to slow down for even a second.

“Don’t stop!”

She launched herself at the one on the left. 

Ken took the right and immediately ducked sweeping backhand from a heavy iron fist, the wind of it ruffling his dreadlocks. His elbow struck back, a brutal jerk inside the guard cat that caught the woman under the chin. Without wasting a moment, Ken snapped out with a straight punch, catching the hooded attacker in her chest the same moment her head snapped back.She dropped and Ken spun, looking for Don without a second thought.

The bigger boy was almost frozen, muttering things under his breath as he stared with panicked eyes at the sight of another Bolt-On scrambling down the street to catch up with the three of them.  “Get on my back.”

Don blinked, his brain lagging. “…what?”

Oh my G-! Ken didn't wait for the redhead to process the command.

He yanked the redhead forward with a single pull on his arm, back already turned as he dropped low. Don fell forward, long arms falling around Ken’s shoulders. Ngggh… Heavy, but not that heavy, Ken grunted with the weight still. I can work with this.“Hold tight!”

Don let out a sound that Ken hoped he would have a chance to make fun of him later as he started running.They moved quick, the two of them behind Zee as she kept cutting towards where they knew the drop-off point would be. Soon enough, their boss-leader disappeared into the crowd and into another back street.Ken followed after, ignoring Don’s shouts and screams from the uncomfortable ride. Soon enough, they came to a stop and one purple eye started spasming for the third time today as he saw Zee’s pink jacket vanish over a rooftop. I hate this girl so much.

Because of course, she’d have to climb when he was carrying someone.

With a sigh, cloth-wrapped feet and bare hands found jagged handholds to carry his weight, the rusted window ledges, and the exposed piping threatening him every moment with the reminder of the fall and Don not helping at all with his own commentary. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it. 

Don was heavy enough, the metal case only making that harder to handle, and the tight grip around Ken’s neck was definitely not doing either of them any favors. If I can’t breathe, you die too, idiot! Soon enough, the roar of the market receded below, replaced by the wind and the distant grind of the air scrubbers. 

The lower rooftops were almost a completely different city than the ground level. Far from the upper-strucks as well, it was even more narrow, dangerous and just out-and-out cluttered, rusty ventwork, leaking pipes and the massive tangled lines of wires choking every third path. 

Ken moved forward still, thighs burning as Don's weight made things awkward and harder than it had to be. The older boy had almost given up on speech completely, just hanging on for life now as his fingers dug painful ditches in Ken’s collarbone, by the time Ken finally found another way down to the street again.Almost.

“Problem.” 

“I see it.” Ken groaned directly back at the single word spoken directly into his ear.

Two problems, actually. Both of them stood not too far past the drop-off point, spread out and waiting, apparently having taken a path that was much quicker and direct than the frickin’ rooftops.

It didn’t take long for two to turn into four, shouts ringing out as another set darted in from the right. Zee, where the hell are you? They had lost their boss somewhere behind or ahead of them in the maze of rooftops, whatever path she had taken was definitely not theirs.

Wherever she was, though, it didn’t really matter.

Mostly because it wasn’t here.

Okay… Ken breathed. Four on one… He nodded his head slowly, even as Don sat heavy on his back. I can do this. Right? Or I can run… yeah, running sounds good.

“Monkey!” 

Ken and Don snapped their heads up.

A figure of pink appeared directly above, atop a ledge. Zee breathed hard, grease streaking her clothes and a coating of blood fresh on her knuckles. “Catch!” Her arm whipped forward, something small and dark flying towards the boys.

Don let go of Ken’s neck with one arm, fumbling the object for a second before getting a solid grip. Ken’s eyes went wide, Don’s doing the same as they both stared at the ugly snub-nosed gun made of junk parts.

“Use it, idiot!”

Don’s face went through a half-dozen different expressions in rapid fire, before he breathed out slow. His right arm rested on top of Ken’s head as the gun pointed out.

The sound was deafening, ringing in Ken’s ears, as he flinched; eyes snapping shut as he kept perfectly still. Jesus! By the time he opened them again, the first Bolt-On had stopped dead with a neat dark hole in between her eyes. She hung there for a second, defying gravity, before collapsing backward, arms and implants completely limp.

The other three froze, staring at the body of their crewmate.

Don fired again, his target clearly not a person as the heavy slug hit a rusted fuel drum sitting next to the rest of the Bolt-Ons, punching through the metal with a shower of sparks.

The women didn't wait for a third shot as they scrambled for safety, scattering over the concrete and diving into the shadows as they abandoned their score.

The loading bay fell dead silent, Ken’s ears still ringing.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

A few minutes later, they were done.

For the day and with the job. 

The contact, sweating as heavily as the fixer for this job spit, pretty much threw the pouch at them, the guy grabbing the case before he vanished up a service elevator.  

Zee stood near the edge of the bay, tossing a heavy leather bag of Iron Yuan up into the air and catching it, coins clinking for the second before she shoved the bag deep into her jacket. 

Ken stood back, rubbing the ache in his shoulders, as he blinked over at Zee. How much money do we even have right now? The thought slid to the back of his mind as he watched Don walk over to their boss, the ugly mess of parts that was somehow workable as a gun held out handle-first. 

Zee atared at the weapon for a second before looking back up at Don, eyes rolling over in her head as she turned her back and started walking.

“Keep it, monkey.”