Vertigo City

1

Shit. Neon Crusaders. Just keep your head down and you'll be fine.

Axton kept true down the sidewalk, walking through the occasional wash of bright neon lights and the minefield of puddles in front of him. The Neon Crusaders were on the other side of the street from him, and he had no one else to blend in with. Usually, during the later hours of the cycle, Axton would be amongst a group of people all headed to different places to do different things. Neon Crusaders strayed away from large groups of people. It would be hard to pick someone out of it without causing a scene. But now Axton was alone. The Crusaders would have it easy with him. They could mug him, hell, they could even stab him and beat the shit out of him if they so desired, but Axton knew exactly what they'd want.

Out of his periphery, Axton could see their neon green outfits getting closer to him. They were crossing the street. Axton felt himself tensing up with every passing second, and as the Crusaders drifted closer and closer the urge to just try and run grew even more. But he knew that if he tried to run they would have something a little more gruesome for him.

A sudden shove sent Axton stumbling into a shop window. He glanced off of it with his shoulder and corrected his balance. He turned to face the Crusaders.

"Good evening, gentlemen." Axton stated politely. Being calm and collected was key in dealing with punks like the Neon Crusaders.

"Cut the crap. You know what we want." The one who shoved him asserted.

"You're absolutely right. I do know what you want. But you see, I don't have any of it at the moment."

"Y'know. You're one funny motherfucker if you think that I'm stupid enough to believe that. You wouldn't be walking around out here for nothing."

Axton took a deep breath. "Look. I don't have any. If I did I'd have no problem giving it to you, but I can't."

The group's leader summoned an object from behind his back and in a swift move Axton had a gun to his head.

"You wouldn't lie like that again with my fucking gun against your head, would you?"

This wasn't the first time Axton had a gun pulled on him. Somehow he managed to diffuse both of those previous situations, but he wasn't sure he could tempt fate a third time. Axton shifted his gaze to meet the leader's.

"I'm not lying."

The leader pressed the gun a little harder in to his forehead. "Give us the fucking Crush or I put a bullet through your thick skull. How does that sound?"

"I'm serious. I don't have any." Axton emphasized.

A fist struck his gut, and as he keeled over in pain he was yanked to the pavement. One of the Crusaders pinned his arm behind his back, and the other two began checking his jacket pockets. They rolled him over and searched his front vest pockets.

"He's got nothin'. Should we just let him go?" One of the Crusaders asked. Axton lifted his head from the puddle on the sidewalk and looked the leader in eye. He seemed to be perplexed that Axton was telling the truth. His eyes showed anger, but also a hint of respect.

After a moment of thought, the leader turned the gun away from Axton. "I'm letting you go this time," he stated. "But your back isn't clean. We may come around again sometime."

"Maybe next time I'll have some Crush for you." Axton quipped.

"I'll count on it." The leader twirled his pistol on his finger and then holstered it. The two Crusaders who searched him rose and stepped over him to follow their leader away. Axton gave it a minute before he stood up, just to ensure that he would be far enough away from the Crusaders to avoid them changing their mind.