Most people will never understand the strange feeling of dragging a dead robot through a public area. I, however, had the luxury of getting to feel that special feeling on a weekly - on a good week daily - basis.
I trudged through the farmers market, avoiding the eyes of the everyday, happy citizens who were just trying to buy a nice looking apple. Or a stick of celery. I had never been to a farmers market before.
Eventually, after walking through the market for enough time to raise at least an eyebrow, I found what I was looking for… the family who had so graciously let me hijack their car..
I hadn't brought them their car, but I thought it might be nice to tell them where it was.
And so, I approached who I assumed was the father. I tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned around. Immediately, his eyes shot to my cargo, and his eyes widened in what I interpreted was horror.
"I apologize for stealing your car, but I want you to know that today you did the world a great service,��� I said.
The man's eyes did not leave the body of the vocation. "Mm-hmm," he managed.
"Alright," I agreed. Pointing in the direction of where I had left the car, I said, "It's over there. It might still be on, so you probably will want to hurry."
"Mm-hmm."
I patted him on the chest, as if we'd been buddies for a long time. "You've got a good taste in music."
And with that, I left my friend. eti
I continued through the farmers market, looking for one thing in particular. As mentioned earlier, the Bounty Officers were an underground organization. By underground, I truly mean underground. I was looking for a sewer drain.
After a couple of minutes of searching, I stumbled upon one. I knelt down, and took out my communicator.
Communicators were sort of like cell phones, but they had a shit-ton more purposes. Bounty Officers used them to communicate with each other, to track bounties, and most importantly, to access headquarters.
I placed the communicator face down on the sewer drain. It sunk into a compartment that appeared, a compartment that was exactly the size of the communicator. The sewer drain's grooves started to put on a light show, producing a purple light that zipped around the little inlets.
After a couple seconds, the sewer drain happily barked, "Authorized," and the sewer drain slid out of the ground and moved to the side. It really was an impressive feat, one that the Bounty Officers had invented themselves. A high tech security system designed as something that people assumed their shit was floating under. Genius.
I threw the vocation's body into the hole, and then slipped through myself. I fell for about three feet, before my boots entered the water that was at the bottom of the drop. It produced and disgusting squelch, and I cringed at the sound.
My vocation buddy had found himself a comfortable position, consisting of him being face first in the water.
A grinding sound alerted me to the fact that the sewer drain was closing, and suddenly I was blanketed in black. My communicator fell from above, and I caught it easily with an outstretched hand. After the drain closed, the slot you put your communicator in would open and then close, leaving enough time for the device to plummet safely into the hands of the Bounty Officer waiting in the shit water.
Pressing a button on my communicator, a purple light started to be emitted from my device, successfully illuminating all that was in front of me. It wasn't anything special, just a tunnel leading to the headquarters.
I knelt down and grabbed the hand of my culprit, and started to trek to the headquarters, dragging the vocation behind me. I felt bad for doing this, but the big hunk of metal was heavy as hell, and had murdered an innocent human woman.
After what felt like an hour of walking, I finally arrived at the headquarters of The Bounty Hunters.
A circular room spread out in front of me, as if I was standing on the edge of a sphere. The walls were made of green, cement bricks, contributing to the sewer theme and producing a damp smell. In the middle, on the flat bottom, a metal table sat regally, on each side sitting a leader of The Bounty Officers. This was where they did all their persecuting and interrogating. Tunnel entrances scattered the sphere, leading in from all the neighborhoods of Boston. It was quite a sight, and I was excited to be a part of it.
I walked - well, more slid - down the side of the sphere towards the thrones, still dragging the vocation behind me. When I arrived at the bottom, I walked around so that I was in front of the leaders, and set the robot's body onto the ground, kneeling down on one knee.
"Very good, Officer Chapman," belted the leader to the far left. Her blonde hair was long, and she wore an outfit that could really only be compared to body armor. This was Officer Burton.
"I hope it wasn't any trouble," said the man sitting to the right. He looked extremely calm, and tubes tangled all around the throne, flowing through which was the golden liquid of HARMONY. This was Officer Anderson, and he was about the only Bounty Officer I knew who used and condoned the drug.
"We got a lot of calls about a man dragging a body through the farmers market in the area that you just came from. We took the liberty of assuming it was you. I'm not mad, but next time, if possible, could you try to be a little more discreet?" asked the woman who sat on the throne in the middle. The woman sported aviator sunglasses, and her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. I had heard about the cop movies of the past, and she matched the description of every hard-ass, not giving two shits character I had ever been told anecdotes about. There was one thing for sure, you did not want to be on Officer Wright's bad side.
"Yes, ma'am, I apologize," I said, and stood up, smiling at each of the members.
"Was it easy?" asked Officer Anderson.
"No, actually I think my ribs are broken… but it's-"
"Did he say anything before he died?" interrupted Officer Wright.
"Yes, actually, he did," I said. "The vocation said, and I quote, 'You and your race are fucked.' Mind my language… his words not mine."
"It's quite alright, Officer Chapman," said Officer Wright. "Well, good job. Here is the money from the bounty…"
Officer Wright took out her communicator and pressed a couple buttons on the screen. Then, she made an upwards swiping motion. I immediately felt a buzzing in my pocket from my communicator, who had just received the $10,000.
"Thank you, ma'am," I said gratefully.
"Do you have family, Mr. Chapman?," asked Officer Wright. This seemed very sudden, and for a split second I was taken aback.
"I have a wife, ma'am. Why?" I answered.
"Well, it has something to do with the vocation you just brought in. I'm sure you know that he is a part of a terrorist organization?"
"I'm aware." I swallowed hard.
"That terrorist organization has just been identified. The other cities are calling them Destruction, due to their goals and actions. Can you guess why they are starting to target Boston, Mr. Chapman?"
I thought for a second, trying to think what a giant terrorist organization would want with Boston.
Then, it hit me like a boulder that had been hurled by a giant. "M-ma'am. I believe Boston not only has the biggest supply of HARMONY in the world, but the headquarters of the HARMONY Organization is also in this city."
"Precisely," said Officer Wright. "We have received a tip that Destruction is prepared to infiltrate the HARMONY Headquarters, destroy the drug, replace it with a powerful drug that does the opposite of HARMONY, and then blow up the building so that it couldn't be resolved for years."
"Jesus Christ… that's a big tip," I said.
"Yes it is. And you're going to do something about it."
"Me?" I was awestruck.
"Yes, you. Monty Chapman, it has become painfully clear over the past couple of years that you don't play it by the rules, or even know what the rules are." Officer Wright leaned back in her chair. "And in a situation like this, that's exactly what we need… a person who isn't afraid to get dirty or beat up. A person who can take a punch."
"Okay," I managed.
"Don't worry. You have a choice. After you foil the plan of Destruction, you will receive quite a lot of money, as well as a medal of bravery. $1,000,000 to be exact. Tomorrow will be your briefing," explained Officer Anderson.
I nodded, and accidently started to think of my wife. What would she think about this?
"Like I said," said Officer Anderson, "you have a choice. But if you come through that tunnel tomorrow for the briefing, there's no turning back. We cannot guarantee anything… except that if you succeed, you will be a hero to the world, and we will be forever in your debt."
I nodded once again, I couldn't find any words.
"If you come tomorrow, we will brief you on the undercover part of the job, as well as what exactly the drug is that Destruction is planning to replace HARMONY with. We are aware that there is a lot to think about. You are excused, but we hope to see you here tomorrow."
I didn't even nod this time. I clambered up the side of the sphere and reentered the tunnel I had exited.
Walking down the tunnel in a sort of daze, one thousand thoughts zoomed around my head like a series of trains, each of them holding passengers that were screaming different orders. Some were screaming, "Do it!" others, "What about Genie?" Some screamed, "Why Monty Chapman? A flabby, worned down Bounty Officer with nothing but anger issues and a blaster?"
I resisted the urge to shriek as I stood under the sewer drain from which I had dropped down. I grabbed my communicator and pushed a button on it, and a circular portion of the floor started to rise, like an elevator. As I grew closer to the drain, and slid up and to the side again, and after what seemed like an eternity, I was above surface again.
I wandered through the crowds of people, bordering on even knowing where I was. It was weird to have your brain be this scrambled. Not knowing what to do, I entered a liquor store.
After blowing some of my bounty on Jack Daniel's, I started to down it as I limped closer to my apartment. The pain from my ribs started to ease and the alcohol numbed the pain. I drank faster.
About a year later, I arrived at my apartment building and slipped through the door. Falling into the elevator, I pressed Floor 12, then Floor 23, before finally arriving at Floor 16, my place of residence.
I almost kicked down the door, and stumbled in. Genie must have already been asleep, because the house was empty, and the only sound was the TV, which had been left on and was playing some type of cheesy late-night sitcom.
My ribs crackled and whined while I pulled my clothes off and I got into the warm shower. The shower was usually where I went to think. It was peaceful there, but right here and right now, I couldn't think of a single thing. I was a bad decision maker, and this was the biggest decision I had ever had to make.
I got into a pair of boxers and slid into bed next to my wife, who was sound asleep, most likely dreaming of lollipops and gumdrops, due to the empty HARMONY syringe that lay next to her head on a bedside table.
Closing, my eyes, I tried to imagine the pros and cons of what I would have to do. I came up with a simple list.
Pros: I would get $1,000,000 and I would get to be a hero. On top of that, I would be saving my city, and not only that but the world. I would get to experience the adrenaline junkie's dream, participating in an against-the-clock, undercover, terrorist-fighting, life or death operation that would most likely end in my brains being splattered all over the place.
Cons: I would have to leave Genie for a long time, and we had just decided that we were going to try for children. She had even picked out the names. However, we were both young, and I would most likely be able to try for kids after this operation. The only other cons that I could think about was the fact that as mentioned extremely recently, this probably wouldn' end very well for me. But fuck it.
I was in.