Chereads / Drip Work / Chapter 33 - Sirens and Bullets

Chapter 33 - Sirens and Bullets

"Where the hell's Chance!?" Valefar shouted as he ran into the 9th precinct. He saw the watch commander sitting in his chair.

"Detective Gordon? He went with McSweeney to investigate the reports of Mustang's sighting, at Hauser."

Fuck, Valefar thought as he remembered Chance's Hellfire Arm. Dammit, I don't know how much of Showdown, since I never dealt with it back then!. He thought about the Hellfire Arm's other aspects, beyond its main ability that was previously tested during the Haverton's fight with Hobart Trent.

The Representative's eyes widened as he recalled Barbie Keane's panicked call. "Does the police have connections to the people running the speakers around town? The building or whatever's pumping out the announcements left and right."

"We do, why? Is there something else we need to know?"

"Trust me, every single soul in this city will be grateful." Valefar felt a surge running toward him. He then jumped slightly at the sound of a large object making contact with the ground, as he peeked out of the police building's front door. He saw a couple of civilians backing away from a crate.

The crate itself was quite standard, yet there was a medium size rectangular box in front of the crate, as well as a note on the rectangular box. The note read:

LET THE BOX JOG YOUR MEMORY.

THE BOYS IN HELL ARE INVESTIGATING THE FIEND WHO FREED THE ARMS

I EXPECT MORE CALLS AND UPDATES FROM YOU.

EVERYTHING IN THE CRATE SHOULD BE ENOUGH TO COMPLETE YOUR TASK.

I'LL SEE YOU IN HELL

THE GUNSMITH

Valefar raised his eyes but sighed at the exact moment he finished reading. If the Gunsmith literally went out of his way to send a crate full of whatever's inside to handle this Hellfire Arm crisis, then he means business.

Task, he thought, he knew it was his attempt to get the Hellfire Arms back with the help of Chance Gordon and co. As for the box, the Representative opened it and saw a beer bottle.

Correction, it had the overall glass look of a beer bottle, with Hell's Rum written on it in white and had red shadows in the back of the letters.

He might see me if I didn't drink this, Valefar thought of the Gunsmith, whose position in Hell was high, high enough to come up with ways of watching humans even without someone like the Representative.

"Bottoms up." Valefar said as he chugged down the drink. He was gripping the bottle, allowing the auburn red like liquid to dive down his throat, as he gulped loudly once within 5 seconds of him drinking. He gulped just as he emptied the bottle, before he let it loose and dropped to the ground.

For a glass bottle, it sure didn't break once it hit the hard rock pavement.

Valefar coughed heavily and fell onto his knees. The hellish liquor really took a punch to his gut, and his insides to an extent. Though a few bystanders stopped and out came the footsteps of someone approaching him, the Representative lifted his hand.

"I'm fine. It's been a while since I've had a drink." he lied. The spark he felt in his heart, his demonic heart underneath this human shell, lighting race through his body up to his brain. It was all coming back to him.

The Hellfire Arms and their users, including Bright. He felt a whirlwind of visions coming across his mind, because something disturbed it all.

"George?" he heard a woman's voice, one that was too familiar.

Barbie Keane was wearing a gray coat. Though it was late afternoon, the wind was starting to breeze harder than before.

"What happened?" she asked as she took Valefar's hands and brought him straight up. "What's this crate?"

Shit, Valefar thought. He had a theory that most humans were naive, but Barbie Keane might not be one of them. Not by a mile.

***

Shots were fired at Hauser, whilst McSweeney yelled at the nearby civilians on foot or in their cars; to back away. He coughed whilst yelling.

The HAST member jumped to the left side and gave a shot towards Shelby. The grey horse was using its head as a battering ram, while it's energetic legs gave it the strength to charge on.

Chance whipped out Showdown and gave a clear shot. As the bullet traveled Mustang shifted to the right, the bullet just flying onward. A shot from Mustang's Tombstone curved at Chance. The Haverton detective lowered his left to the right; the bullet barely missing his neck.

"I only got 6 of the Deadly Shells." Mustang muttered to himself as he loaded another Deadly Shell. "It'll be a while til they can come back."

He fired the Deadly Shell at Chance. The bullet scraped the side of his jacket slightly. The Haverton felt something burning, and saw part of his jacket corroding away.

No wonder the car and the pole died just like that, Chance thought about the bullets from before as he let out a breath. Before he fired another curved shot.

Kill him in a proper fight, the voice from before spoke to Chance as he hid near a car, away from Mustang's vision. He saw McSweeney struggling to keep Shelby in check. The HAST member blasted his Sucker Punch into the horse's face. Parts of the horse's flesh splattered onto the ground, before it's body fell.

"McSweeney! Chance yelled as Shelby's dismembered face started to piece itself back together again, before connecting itself towards its body. McSweeney reloaded Sucker Punch with a sleight of hand before he gave another shot. The Haverton saw at the corner of his eye; another Deadly Shell from Mustang.

A large bang came out of Showdown when Chance gave a curved shot; Showdown's bullet came at a monstrous pace of speed, it's edge coming in front of Tombstone's Deadly Shell.

The two bullets collided, and a slight shockwave pushed back Chance and Mustang behind.

"You're a tough man, boy!" Mustang yelled toward Chance. "But I doubt you know how to really use that thing."

Sirens were heard, Chance recognized them as the same ones when he was running away from Bright,

"Citizens near Hauser! A Hellfire Arm user is around the area! Get into your homes or accommodations as well as stay inside immediately! No one is allowed to go outside until the area is clear and certified by the Morissey Police Department!"

Next came the police sirens, Mustang turned to the left and saw many black and white police wagons coming toward the scene at high speeds.

Even if those coppers didn't have Hellfire Arms, they still would hurt him and Shelby.

"I ain't risking it." he said, but he remembered about Bright's request back at Quitely Island. It hit him. Behind Shelby were the open streets.

When Chance aimed toward his opponent's head, he felt a surge of black and red electricity running in his body. He winced and dropped down to one knee.

Killers do not shoot their targets when they're silent! The disemboweled voice spoke loudly in Chance's brain. He felt his head was banging. Felt like someone was really beating his brain with a hammer, and blood would spew out because of the cracks.

He was grateful that wasn't the case, but he gritted his teeth regardless.

"Chance!" McSweeney yelled as he aimed another shot towards Shelby, but he turned to see Mustang now holding the stock of Tombstone, swinging it like a baseball bat, before Tombstone's front end smashed McSweeney in the cheek, sending him flying to the front door of a building.

Mustang grinned at the situation unfolding and ran past Chance.

"I'll deal with you two later, especially your Showdown!" Mustang yelled as he got onto Shelby. "Once you're all dead I'll get my prize from Bright!" Shelby neighed loudly and galloped far away from the scene, heading into the deeper parts of Downtown.

Sirens were still wailing as cars were stopped. One police wagon in particular stopped, and Chance saw Fermor come out of it.

"Chance! Rosenthal asked me to get here as soon as possible."

"Fermor, he's getting away, the Hellfire Arm user." Chance started as he started to get back up on his feet. What the hell just happened to him? That odd surge, that electric shock of red and black?

Makes me wonder if Valefar hasn't told me anything I should really know about Showdown, he thought at first, but soon he recalled that the Representative wasn't in the Old West when Showdown was around.

Whatever flaws Showdown would have, he would have to adapt to it.

"Chance!" McSweeney barked. "Get that son of a bitch!"

"I'll drive." Fermor responded without any hesitation. The sirens from the police continued to wail as Chance entered the passenger seat of Fermor's squad car. The MPD officer looked at the Haverton with worry. "You alright?"

"Don't mind, me, gun it!" Chance demanded as Fermor put his foot down, marking his chase towards Mustang. I just hope Freddie and the others are doing fine, he thought about the other potential Hellfire Arm users other than his current target.