Chereads / Drip Work / Chapter 19 - One Pissed Off Guy

Chapter 19 - One Pissed Off Guy

Chance's eyes burst up wide open.

His sense knocked him up and he was wide awake. The air in Morissey was surprisingly cold even in the morning. The east coast air that was slipping in through the cracks of his small apartment wasn't anything new to him.

Nor was his memories of the war, when Valefar the Representative first showed his face. Sometimes Chance remembered the sounds of bullets flying all over the place, in addition to the screams of the Japanese soldiers dying at the hands of U.S Marine Hellfire Arm users.

He remembered getting shot in the abdomen by an enemy soldier, then waking up the next day in a hospital bed. What he dreamed of the night before was the last he ever saw of Jack Lark, Douglas, Peckham, and Rowland.

Although his superior Andrew Denton and soldier Billy Fields, that was a different story.

After the war was over, the Hellfire Arms were said to return to the Hell's Gunsmith, but as Valefar mentioned, somebody went into Hell and freed a bunch of them.

Things can be seen as differently depending on the person using them, guns included, guns made from Hell especially. Said guns were also unbelievably out of place, in addition to making people look different and having destructive abilities.

Where do I even begin, was the thought that came to Chance the first time as he launched himself out of bath and got himself ready for today. Stacy was right, there was going to be a lot of work to be done.

Getting Lloyd Howitzer's murderer and the motive behind it.

Getting back the other Hellfire Arms are still out there in the busy and crowded city. Who knows how many are there exactly.

Raiding that meeting Angus O'Malley's associate had with Earl Wayne Johnson, a Dripper from Drip Work.

These thoughts were gone by the Haverton detective as he turned to hear knocking on his door. All readied up in his suit he placed the gloves Valefar gave to him the day before.

As the door opened, Chance saw a larger man with a five o'clock shadow, wearing a beige overcoat in addition to a dark brown fedora. The man's hands were both in his pockets and he stood tall and proud.

Higgins.

"Off to somewhere already, Chance?"

"I was."

"I need a word with you, in person."

"Right now."

"Yeah, you're quick to understand. Other Havertons should learn more from you, instead of talking back to their superiors." Higgins spoke as he entered the apartment and sat himself on a small chair. Chance followed and sat opposite of his boss in the Morissey division of Havertons.

"A lot has happened since yesterday. I can't imagine you going through an entire day having an investigation and encounter two Hellfire Arm users." Higgins said as Chance looked down and leaned in his chair. "How's progress on your side?"

Chance told him regarding the recovery of Hellfire Arms Blade, Fang, and Aftershock.

"Fang? Yeah, detective Hazelton showed me herself and her Hellfire Arm. The thing came to her! I was worried at first, considering the payment needed to use such an Arm, but seeing how she's dedicated to the job of recovering the Arms, I'm assuming she's up to the job as Detective Bass. Besides, I'm sure you know that Chandler gave all Havertons the full pass to do whatever necessary.

Higgins then chuckled at the mention of Aftershock. "Aftershock. Who knows that that Gunsmith was thinking of making these guns and giving appropriate names but damn, isn't he accurate."

"I saw that thing in action. The Representative gave a showcase to all of us and shit, the building almost went down when he just shot a soda can out back. Too powerful even for a HAST member." He paused. "What else?"

"The Representative, I mean, Valefar." Chance started. "We met a guy named Galley who owed him something, turns out it was just an excuse for Valefar to force the guy to help find the Hellfire Arms."

"Did he go overboard? Cause I'm aware that this Valefar isn't human."

"A bit." Chance replied. "Thankfully he was reasonable enough to listen to me. That wasn't all, whether by sheer luck or just plain stupidity, Galley turned out to be working for Angus O'Malley, and has a meeting with a Dripper from Drip Work Inc."

"That's a find for sure. This Dripper must have a Hellfire Arm on his hands. If he wasn't, it still could be a lead for us. Galley give any names?"

"Earl Wayne Johnson."

"Can't say it rings a bell to me, but I'll be sure to have a detective find any info related to him."

"My plan was to gather any HAST members and hopefully raid the guy, Hellfire Arm user or not."

"Yeah…I don't think that's going to happen." Higgins took out a cigar. He opened the nearby window before he lit the cigar and inhaled the smoke. The smoke went out of the window by the time he opened his mouth.

"You almost got killed, twice." Higgins spoke. "Sure, a HAST member helped you during your fight with that Rat King at Sunshine Heights, but it was HIS Hellfire Arm that supported you, and we both know that's his by the end of the day."

"You want me to back off from my plan."

Higgins snuffed his cigar into the cigarette tray that was placed on the small table. He knew Chance didn't smoke, but the Haverton detective had in store just in case somebody did want to light a cigarette or cigar.

"You pick up things fast. Most people would say you have a good intuition. It's not that I don't think you can handle it, no. These last 2 years you've been a valuable asset to the Havertons, but this isn't the war, not the normal kind. The last thing I need is a member of the agency being killed in the worst way possible by a Hellfire Arm."

"Could you hear me out on something?" Chance asked as Higgins nodded and leaned back into his chair. "First time I met Valefar in the commissioner's office, he told me that somebody went into Hell and freed the Hellfire Arms. There's no way on Earth somebody would just waltz into Hell and do something that stupid."

"Even if you have a point, where do we begin on that?"

Chance became silent as soon as his boss said that. Seconds passed before he spoke again. "What if this person had a Hellfire Arm of their own? How do we know they ain't still out there?"

"You don't have to worry about that Chance." said an unfamiliar voice. Higgins felt a figure behind him before he turned to see Valefar, and jumped slightly out of his seat.

"The fuck you came from?" Higgins demanded

"Door." Valefar spoke. Higgins' eyes locked onto the still closed apartment door, then looked at the Representative again.

"You really know how to make an entrance do you?"

"Heh, word play. I came here to tell you two that in Hell, we're not just sitting on our asses and expecting the humans to do all of the work, even though us demons could have done that." Valefar paused. "It's bad enough that I had to go through the entire night doing my end of this crisis."

"Got any news for us? Cause Higgins just gave me a big fat no for me to get that Dripper Galley was supposed to meet, and I really need to play my part in all of this."

Valefar smirked and seemed impressed. "Chance Gordon. Always dedicating himself into anything he gets involved with. Looks like he's a valuable asset, huh Higgins?"

"He is. But don't you do anything that's out of your reach." Higgins spoke before he took his leave.

"Good news. Officer Fermor just got a call from a family in Little Italy, their son found a Hellfire Arm just hanging from the rooftop."

"That's all?"

Valefar looked unsure. "Did I tell you that when a Hellfire Arm user dies, the Arm is placed close to their dead body?"

"Let me guess, somebody died?"

"Yeah, Matthew King." Valefar spoke as Chance's eyes widened. "Somebody took care of him big time, but the same somebody took his damn Hellfire Arm!"

"Do Hellfire Arms leave a distinctive mark on dead bodies by any chance?"

"Yeah…" Valefar said, raising his eyebrows. "Why?"

"What was the condition of King's body when you first found it?"

1 second of silence past.

2 seconds.

3....

4....

5....

"Crimson mist-" Valefar's collar was grabbed by Chance and the Representative was shoved to the wall. He could see the burning anger in the detective's eyes, narrowed down. The Haverton's muscles under his eyelids were even showing a bit.

He's pissed, Valefar spoke of Chance. At the moment, this was not the Haverton detective who was previously focused on his job, or didn't talk much to him.

This was one pissed off guy.