Hardman's Bar

By Hadrian Howell (Hardman)

Chapter 16

“Aw, isn’t that cute? A fan,” Classi smiled in an equally dazzling way. “Well, silly, Monsteropolis is only the largest city in the COUNTRY, so of course we do a few shows here now and then.”

“I like it here better than New York,” the one known presumably as Psycho nodded. “Too smoggy over there.”

Another, much more male and much more irate voice called back from the front of the limo. “Are we picking them up or what?”

“Don’t be grouchy, Lennon,” Classi admonished before opening her door and motioning for us to come inside.

Ma… Jonathan… Mags? No… wait… his name is Jonathan. Jonathan climbed inside first, being careful not to injure his arm any more than it already was, followed by a rather eager Raijin, who moved as close as he could to the two singers as possible before getting a smack on the back of the head from the sour-faced driver in the cold blue suit. I got in last, taking a sharp breath due to my injured ribs.

Something weird happened. The car tilted noticeable as I set foot inside. It was acting like I was way heavier than I was. I think I’m the only one who noticed, though, as the car righted itself again and the conversation inside was already started…

I sat down softly next to Psycho and kind of leaned against the inside of the car, placing my head on the cool glass. Psycho gave me a look.

“You smell like booze,” she said.

“An’ you smell li’ a Maxim add,” I grunted, immediately reprimanding myself mentally for speaking as the pain in my throat seemed to clutch my windpipe like a steel hand.

Psycho gave Jonathan a sarcastic look. “Such a delightful friend you have.”

“Aw, he’s an okay guy,” Jonathan shrugged.

“Doesn’t talk much,” Raijin nodded.

I tried to stay stead as the car started moving again, looking out the window and not paying too much attention to the talk behind me. I watched signs go by, advertising businesses of all kinds and sorts. We even passed a bar, but every time I tried to read the name, my eyes fuzzed up and my head hurt.

That didn’t make sense. Why would a bar sign make my head hurt? And why did I get the feeling I knew that place? What was going on here?

Something strange was shaking my head around like a child’s toy, but if I wasn’t the only one, nobody else betrayed their own personal battles with their memories. I did find it a little odd six people could come together so quickly in the space of fifteen minutes though. Almost like some kind of destiny, if you believe in that kind of thing.

Then, the car screeched to a halt.

Psycho immediately turned toward the front. “What’s going on up there, Lennon?”

“Someone’s in the road.”

“Well, get him out of the way,” Psycho responded.

“How?” Lennon asked.

“Honk the horn or something!”

After two stabbing pains in my head, Lennon came back with “He’s still not moving. It looks like he’s scrapping for a fight…”

“Then get out there and beat him down or something,” Raijin huffed.

Lennon laughed a humorless laugh. “I’m not paid that much.”

They continued talking back and forth, but I wasn’t listening. I don’t know why I felt the need to get out of the car, but the air was getting stifling. Before anyone noticed I was moving, I was already half way out of the door before Jonathan shouted a fairly urgent “Look out!”

SOMETHING in my head told me to duck even before Jonathan’s warning, and a foot in a sneaker came over my head like a wrecking ball. I took two steps back before coming upright to take in my attacked. It was a kid. Or a very short person. Either way, he was dressed in a yellow shirt with the letters SD emblazoned on the front in sharpie marker, and he seemed to be looking at me with a sort of burning hatred.

Not knowing what was coming next, I waited for the next attack, which wasn’t long in coming. ‘SD’ approached fast and hard, spinning around once before bringing his leg up into a devastating kick I somehow managed to block with my arm. It might have been the adrenaline by now, but I didn’t feel the kick very much. Almost like I was wearing gauntlets or something.

He seemed just as surprised as I was at my lack of pain, but he wasted no time in recovering, spinning again and slamming his other foot into my injured side. Color exploded into my vision again and I felt myself fall over, But… when my vision cleared, I was still standing. Didn’t I fall over? What was going on here?

The sound of shoelace cutting through the air brought my attention forward again and I caught the speeding foot this time, deciding to press an attack of my own, I brought the other hand in fast with a solid blow to the kid’s midsection. Not really in the mood to show mercy, I twisted at the waist and put as much strength as I could into a throw that sent the brat flying down the road. WAY farther than he should have gone, but I didn’t care. I was already chasing him.

My side pulsed a dull pain, but I ignored it as ‘SD’ stood up, and I got in another punch to the stomach and one to the jaw before he knew I was on top of him. He started to fall backwards, but he caught himself on his hands and sprang into a back flip, kicking me in the chin before landing on his feet, and rocketing forward again to spin around and deliver another of those wrecking ball kicks. It was high.

I went low, and came up with an uppercut which sent the kid flying, again, way farther than he should have. He tried feebly to get back up, but couldn’t seem to manage it, so I took my time walking over to him as a gathering crowd looked on. I caught a glimpse of the others in the crowd. Jonathan and Raijin both looked amazed, whereas Classi and Psycho just looked disgusted. The one I assume was Lennon had a disdainful look on his face.

Ignoring the pain that wracked my body, I grabbed the kid by the shirt collar and hauled him up. “Who the hell are you?” I asked him, my voice cracked beyond even my recognition.

Tops? Is that you? Oh, god, I killed him! Four hits with a Hard Knuckle always beat Topman! Crap! Speak ta me, kid! Speak ta me!

… what?

And the world went… grey? Smokey, dull, and grey. With seven exceptions.

NOW the others were sharing in my confused experience, as they suddenly looked around them. Nobody else in the crowd was moving at all. Just Psycho, Classi, Lennon, Jonathan, Raijin, and myself. The kid in the SD shirt was barely conscious, but he was still breathing.

Then came the singular applause. Which drew all of our attention.

“About time you guys showed up,” said the robot with the G on his chest.