Gun and a runner

A scifi story in near future with flying cars

Thru the aeons of aeons man travelled, shot and screwed up people, we drop in into his memories.

"No poison you poison bitch asshole!" screamed the man in need of a good deed. She was caught off guard and the poison bitch screamed.

"You can't say a word that stops me, in gonna send my nightmares and poison and real life threats to you with my dream machine"

The deal was done, the man was cursed to repeat mistakes of past old ones and let to believe that that wasn't the case. 

Man, shall we say ... was well to his fourties and a old detective outfit. That's the spirit

"Find the goddamn infiltrator unit and get it's ass capped or you won't get 500 petros from the organizer of this concert venue extravaganza we have built" screamed the fat old organizer king that wanted to hire me, the good ol detective.

Cold cyborg ass, that's what I was looking for, sounded fun and funerals at the same time. Things might go sideways I thought when I jumped into my Road jumper 700. A hover bike that can jump and doesn't throw me over the handle if you will. So a huge concert was coming and they were getting bomb threats from the liberator front that wanted shit to be free for whatever reason, but truth was it was impossible to know what they really wanted. One time they left a car bomb that they took from the bottom of my car in front of my face. The guy just left without saying anything but it smelt like this fiasco. ”not happening this time, alright”.

    Back to reality, what I needed was a faster blaster than my antique snub nose revolver. I hit the streets and this time they didn't back, heh. I found what I wanted quick, a handful of destruction. No need for implant, shoots straight. Just like it's new owner. After scavanging thru old bazaar like buildings full of junk I got home with couple of pills to test, some grass and this new gun. The pills were for action and grass for sobering my mind for too much world confrontation. I needed a rest, even thought stuff I bought resembled some kind of lunacy act. I wasn't into that, not this time. I slept on the sofa, tv on, I needed an electric lullaby.

A morning ensued, something new and fresh was in the near future, I could feel it. Something great was about to happen. Or exciting, probably not great who Im to fool, usually I got a rough ride future past fast thru junction shit rather than good times in the highway mile of stars or whatever bs I could dream off.

I hit the streets like they were begging for mercy, i would destroy some metal to the 10000m/s bullet wall and so forth. No need for compromise, total destruction and the first stop was old mama's oiling station, these bastards run on oil and god knows what kind of battery doo dat. Mama's was a good place for clues.

”Hello mama, where is the oil cooking this time” me

”Right here unless you mean chinese cooking with the gutter oil and stuff” mama

”So what the hell is cooking in the streets, i want some answers”

”No answer if you dont spit out some petros from your filthy mouth”

At this point it was good to remember i forgot to wash old legos for time to time, especially if i was blood thirsty for steak and stakes and stop and go and so on.

”Okay, there is a small petros dealing lowlife bot called Mis piernas cujen around the backstreets, half a building and dealing, fast being that, watchout cos he pulls that proton shooter faster than a minx in heat, you can find in his normal habitat called ¿Qué diablos aquí? A human establishment of fresh liquids.”

”Okay, i gotta go check this mofo out and in a hurry, i need some answers”

I hit the road again 200 miles per hour. The roadie as i called my new carish vehicle would get me quickly to the poison bitch. Simple, kick the door in, bullet to the head and adios poisonous existence. Sike, it had to happen, i arrived quickly.

Boom, no crash, no burn, wheels in rotation magnets screaming, i hit the small yard. I needed to see blood. When i kicked the door i didnt realize she had company. Projectiles flying i hit her and 2 goons on the left. It was done, plain and simple. I heard screaming thought, quick i grabbed petros from her table, around 2000 units and jumped towards car, a cat scared me. But sike again good ol heart didnt give up yet, i would quickly throw everything in and hit the road again as a winner, this wasnt time to quit. Neo tokyo would be a fine place to cool down, not the real one but european hub of japanese that moved there after the third bomb. Ticket was 200, i needed to also cash in with the organizer, cha-ching, money was gathering up. And so was my appetite for booze and good food. Quick ticket from the traveling app and after the quick flight i hit the ramen shop near airport. Cyber noodles hit my insides like sumimasen from a baka gaijin mouth would hit the waitress' ears. And a nice cigar, i didnt know earth had such desires. Cigars are like jazz. Or something, i was getting a good buzz from beer. The grand menu was tempting me. I ordered beer platter, funny man Natsuki wanted to join in, soon i found myself in beer karaoke ”heaven” the food and drink was overflowing. I sang old favorite highway star and Natsuki busted out some japanese funk singing.

It was time to head back home to Darius, back to flyport, there was a rude guy checking chip cards, he said

”baka gaijin cardo desu” and i said

”fuck off, but here it is”

”arigatou idiot”

i got beer sweats at the flying machine. The fly was quick cos i was nodding. Apocalypse now and hitting every corner wasn't and option. I had to find new screws, bolts and nuts, so i dont go nuts. Ramen was on the table, the good shit, not packaged and depressingly steaming it at home. Farts felt vile, my alcoholic butt wasn't feeling good. I also needed to find some runtz weed for the smoothness, for the brain, for the soul. Smoot jazz wasn't my thing but good ol' tunes might also soothe me back to life. Maybe some brain chips too, my head felt buzzy and not in a good way. But first sleep. My old pal the holographic Gatto gave a good old computer purr when i got back home. Hit the hay, or the self monitored sleeping pod as they say.

Head felt little better when i woke up, mission: head check from the local quack, check armanents, get new crew or check in with the old pals and new money making scheme. I hit the streets, quack was in friendly mood ”come on in and have a seat” the doctor was in and checking my head,

”yup, definately no good, garbage, they put a virus in you in nippon and bullshitted your brain to have some disease, i also have some cheap chips if you wanna fry in your brain”

”hell to the yes, GET IT OUT and lets see the chips after” quack was quick and i started to feel better after the oncoming keystrokes on his brain machine.

”Now for the chips, i got brain intensifier, brain be gone eternal high, bullshit boobies on your sight and ofc aim better”

”aim better and i dont need fucking tits at my face doctor”

”oh yeah, maybe that's too idiotic”

SCREWWWWWWWWWW ON!

*BIUMMMWWW*

”what the fuck”

I started to aim all over the place, there was a crosshair

”Is this fucking permanent”

”Oh yeah but i can take it off too for a price, this is 5000”

”Okay, i hope this works”

”on/button for attional 50”

”Okay i guess that makes sense, does it always warm up like old monitor?”

”Yes, its not perfect”

”Okay”

The streets were smelly but friendlish, i guess i gotta lukewarm my way into new adventure. Firstly let's check out this new ”eye” as i was wearing, head hurt a lil bit from the operation. Shooting range was the option. 10/10's on close range, 5/10 at long, okay its not perfect, but i shoot close up and this thing was fast now, it also responded when i said handgun or shotgun or whatever.

It was time to eat, why dont women understand hamburgers i wondered. Meaty, fresh produce, all things a man needs, maybe they dont need that. Or maybe i met wrong women. Anyhow. Eat half a hamburger, threw it in the air and bulleye shot it. Meat and produce spattering all over the place.

It was time to get jazzy, jazz bars, blues bars, rock bars, all bars, all drinks. My favorite place was Rock on rockhard. Cheyways on rocks on ginger stilts on lemon soda. Hmmmmmmmmm i wanted to murmur on this drink. And i did, murrrr soda concoxion. There was some shady peoplpe about, i had to socialize.

”Howdy, do you guys shoot or move”

”What”

”DO YOU i mean okay i guess not”

”So fellers, do you do money on the deepweb or shoot and gather the prices”

”No, we are just bank tellers”

”Oh, then i wont tell”

”I guess not”

I had to get out, i have been had, this murmur and sorrowfully normal presence wasnt my thing. Okay the usual places, blah blah gather troops, forward! And beyond!

It was too easy if i just mercenaried up but thats all i knew i guess. Places to hit was different story. I needed something easy to sell. Guns perhaps.

At the mercenaries, they only drank moonshine drinks, earlier in the day less moonshine more soda, later soda was gone. Lots of grimaces later in the evening as the teeth hit the cleaning agent.

”So you got a new plan”

”No, but i need men and i need em fast”

”So be it but we need a plan”

”Yeah, money doesnt appear without a good plan”

”So be it, you remember where to find us”

Operation Cold Metal, it had to happen. So i had to find someone fairly rich or deep in business, sigh. More nosing around needed. ASAP. The merc bar wasnt place for this and it wasnt called a merc bar but thats what i called it. Maybe jew alley had something i could find useful. Time to hit Dave's place and by hitting i mean bullshitting. Magnets hit the road and my space car was quickly curving from the parking place.

At Dave's.

”Hey, I need info on some local business”

”Okay, it will cost ya”

”How much”

”Not much, i want someone with money and guns to be taken care of”

”How about this japanese liquor, i had 12 bottles, you can have 4”

”What is it”

”Cyber something, i dont know, it says cyber, goes to your head and you see a cyber dream after being drunk and sleeping”

”Okay, sounds nice, so they guy is this fat bozo by the name Jacquez”

”What did he do to get to you?”

”He spat at my face first of all and then laughed it off and said im a lousey trader of shit, he used to be a customer”

”He lives in Delta sector near the loading station”

”Damn, they got cameras”

”Yes, during the day but nightly you could go in peace”

”Does he have any defence”

”Just a cyber dog with metal claws and his piece he sleeps with, he used to say he sleeps with a gun and doesnt trust women”

”He doesnt know whats coming”

Back at merc's. I got 2 guys, these 2 russians Molo and Tov together. They had blasters and mithril coated leather coats.

It was time to hit the place, night arrived in Delta sector. Jacquez's place was close, we stalked out the station, it clearly was tightly kept place in wrong place of all of places. Some fat guy was eating cheese in front of the place. Surely we needed to do crossroads and get the place from the back. Luckily it was silent neighbourhood. Just the right kind of place. There was a wall thought, car roof trick would do. Drive the car close and jump on. Dont break the ceiling thought on this, or fuck it, fuck it up, it was stolen anyway. Ride it like it was in debt to you. Or something, back to the gig. Dudes were on top of the car and heave-hoing inside, we checked before hand with my wallhacked eye that the target was sleeping. Or at least bungalowing in his bed, dog was firmly in place in front of it, near the door. I also saw a double barrelled pump-action with big magazine. I had to hack the dog to sleep with my laptop, the job was easy, target it, Doggy Good Sleep on, ta-dah. The dog also had a lazer tail and badass cyborg eye for eye sniffing. Dangerous. The backyard was small and only ways in were window and door, luckily it didnt even have a lock, I guess he didnt know people would ever come, what an care free fellow. Small dogs started to appear on the screen, what the fuck? Damn, hacking defence. Then a video ”AHHH MOMMY MILKERS AAAAHH UUHHHH” It was fat guy rubbing himself and milk was flying, what the fuck 2.0?

”Aah gotcha, old paralyzing steak trick”

Molo had thrown the steak for the dog that was waking up since they opened the back door and my hack failed with weirdness. I had to check it out myself, i climbed the car. And took a glance. Dog was down and fizzling in shock with steak hanging in its mouth, Jacquez deeply in sleep. There wasnt much to steal thought, i had seen an armored trunk they had to picklock with a keycard hacker i still had from old gig.

*Pling* it said when facing the keycard holo hole. And the chest opened, good amount of loot. We also took the mean looking big blaster. Mission successful. Or so we thought, lot of molice action when we were driving back. Sirens blaring in the night, i had to drive according to posted speeds. Luckily it was a riot near Delta Sector and not our thing. Jacquez was still sleeping and dog having near heart attack but still living. I paid the boys, took the loot and it was the next day. I hit the bar, there was a man almost yelling about how fun digital core was. I had to know what the hell it was.

”LISTEN, SMALL ANIMALS AND OTHER CREATURES IN HOLOGRAM FORM, IT'S SO MUCH FUN COS YOU CAN TURN THEM OFF TOO”

”I saw one pooping one time and small bulldozer-like thing came to eat it up with nets”

Then tere were small robots one said

”Never take my blaster, my life depends on it”

And cats, CATS! Those furry little bastards. Robot version didnt need to feed, and little kisses felt like real, or what im blabbering about, i dont know, where was i. In deed i, the book. Hahaa, back to the story.

I didnt need one thought, i needed a hard joint of that stiff shit. ASAP, too much mind mongering around here. Loot, i needed to get rid of it. Then black market quickie. Big Dick's had to do, Guns N Fun it said over the door. Heading in. Meathead, i mean Bruiser was beside the door, happy fat man at the counter.

”Hee-how this is the loot i got this time”

”Siiike, see, i dont wanna know where it came from”

”Have a look, how about this nice gun”

”Never seen something like this”

”I got ammo too”

”Alright”

We went thru the loot. It wasnt that plenty, got enough coin. Onwards to fun! I hit the street running, no way i was gunning soon, the job was odd enough with its elements. Old Pastafarai had to do.

”Stiff shit mon”

”the stiffeeessttt son”

Dude had a snake, it sizzled a bit before laying down again, clever eyes of cold python power. Anyhow, the stiffness had to make me feel iffy. Illest to the bone, badass super star, or something. I thought i was loosing it or getting hang of it. Little little jointerino, ah yess. It hit the spot. Just right.

I was laying down in my car, bass boosting a bit and rattling it. I didnt know if this was good idea but old hot box was the way to go for this kind of man.

”Motorized super satan~”

Was blaring from the speakers, yes, indeed, this was the life. Lil tv on. The president was on the news. Something about wars and old nuke bunkers being diminished and harvested. None of my business but at least it was entertaining.

”Dildo unchained, coming to movies”

”Nnn NNN nNNnn, moto saws in the distance, somewhere near you, cold hard steel”

Okay, tv was gettin too intense, the record was over, hand cranking my model Ludacrisious Speedo sportster, thats not the name but came to my mind. Hit the streets man, do something. Energized.