Darkness Girl: Trickster God

Chapter Forty-One: Fortress of Flesh

'Fine. The happy family gets to be together. Super. What happens after that? You just kill me?' 

'That's the general idea.' 

Gareth shook his head. 'You uncompromising types, you're all the same. Dieter was just like you.' 

Regan glanced at the bloody mess next to Gareth's feet. 

'Apparently not.' 

'So he lost. It doesn't change what he was. He was a tool. He didn't have to be, but in the end, that's all people like you can hope for.'  

'Is that your excuse for weakness?' 

'Like it or not, the world is build on compromise. That's why people like you inevitably end up turning to people like me to make the decisions for you.' 

'Are you offering me a job?' 

'What if I am?' 

'Then I'd say you've just made a very poor gambit for survival.' 

Gareth ran his fingers over the ridges of the brass knuckles on his hand. 'It won't change anything, you know.' 

'You'll be dead, when before you were alive. That's likely to be a fairly monumental change for you.' 

'Will it make the world a noticeably better place?' 

'Who said anything about making the world a better place?' 

Gareth threw a pleading look at Sarafina. 'Is this what you want?'

'Regan,' said Sarafina. 'Eva's safe. There's no reason for more killing.' 

'She can't help you now,' said Regan. 'If you wanted to live, you should have tried to make sure you were more valuable alive than dead.' 

'That high handed attitude of yours is starting to seriously rub me the wrong way,' said Gareth.

For the first time Forester could hear a tinge of anger in his voice. 

Gareth punched the palm of his hand. 'What the hell do you know? You're some jumped up kid with a knife and an attitude problem. You think I'm underestimating you? Well guess what? You've just underestimated me. I'm not dead yet. Not by a long shot!' 

Gareth sprang towards Regan with a vicious swipe. It looked like a wild, uncontrolled swing, but as she moved to the side, he suddenly flicked out with a kick. Regan danced backwards with a look of irritation. 

'I didn't have my eyes closed when you were fighting, girly. I know your tactic is evasion.' 

Gareth stayed close to Regan. As she retreated, he followed, lashing out with fast, light strikes. 

'What's he doing?' said Forester. 'None of those hits will do any damage if he catches her.' 

Sarafina shook her head. 'He's tying up her hands. As long as she's busy blocking, he doesn't have to worry about her surprising him with an attack. The instant she drops her guard, those strikes will stop being so light.' 

Regan matched Gareth's speed as she blocked his lightning fast strikes. She didn't seem bothered by them, but Sarafina was right -- there were no openings for her to attack. Gareth was staying uncomfortably close, crowding her in with short, sharp attacks. 

'You didn't bet on me being trained, did you?' said Gareth. 'In my world, a man doesn't rise to the top without having the strength to take what he wants.' 

Regan leant back as his knuckle dusters swept past her eyes. 

'You're a brawler.' she said. 'A skilled street fighter, but ultimately flawed.' 

'Save your breath, girly.' 

'You've modified the basic protector style to make it more offensive. It's a good idea, but your moves are untried.' 

'I don't see you coming up with anything.' 

'You won't.' 

Regan slipped past Gareth's fist as he struck out with a light jab. Forester saw him hesitate momentarily as Regan suddenly appeared where he hadn't expected. 

Regan side stepped and her blade caught Gareth across the kidneys. He stumbled forward with a gasp of pain and clutched his back. 

'She got him!' said Forester. 

'No,' said Sarafina. 'Gareth is tougher than that.' 

'What?' 

Gareth held his back with both hands and arched his spine. 

'That hurt,' he said. 'You almost broke the skin there, and that's saying something.' 

Regan looked down at her blade. 

'I thought that cut felt strange.' 

Gareth let go of his back and stretched up to the ceiling. Forester could see a long cut in his shirt just above his belt. There was a thin red line on his skin like the mark of a whip. 

'My skin and flesh are like kevlar. Your little knife won't work against me, no matter how many times you catch me.' 

He brought his hands down in a slow circle and rolled his head from side to side. 

Regan massaged her wrist. Her hand was still wrapped in bandages. Forester wondered if hitting Gareth's unexpectedly hard flesh had hurt her. She gave the knife a few experimental swings, then lifted it and looked at Gareth down its length. 

'No wonder your defence is sloppy. When you don't have to worry about being cut, you don't have to worry about defensive technique. I wonder though, has anyone ever put that body of yours to the test?'

'I've been in hundreds of fights, and I've knocked heads with all types. I've faced off against enforcers, protectors and transporters. Hell, I've even taken out a few investigators in my time. My flesh has stood up to swords, knives and broken bottles without ever letting out a single drop of blood. You think I should be worried by that little toothpick?'

'Let's find out.'