Neon is the Colour of Vengeance (Flappers and False Gods)

THE PUNCTURE

Hugo watched Evan intently over the next few hours, but the man never left the room. He seemed nervous, absent mindedly tapping his foot and fidgeting where he sat across from Hugo.

On a normal day, he could have killed Evan with ease, but injured as he was, he had to be careful. He had to wait for an opportunity, then strike quickly and definitively.

“You okay there?” he asked, watching Evan shift uncomfortably in his seat. “You seem a little on edge. Every time I move you get a little twitchy. Doesn’t seem like the best quality in a surgeon.”

Evan didn’t reply.

“The silent type. I like it. Seeing as you don’t want to talk to me, would you like to know what I’ve been thinking? I suppose it’s more wondering.” Evan said nothing so Hugo pressed on. “Why would you save me?”

“I already told you.”

“So, you’re just soft? That’s a dangerous thing to be in Tenebrium City.”

“I’m not soft, I’m just not like you.”

“I don’t believe you. You’re a surgeon, so you were well positioned to help, but why move me? Why keep me here? Your oath only stretched as far as keeping me alive until Medicus came. I’m starting to think you want something from me.”

“What could I want from you?” He hesitated before he answered just enough that Hugo noticed.

“Then answer me this: If I could get up and leave, would you let me?”

Evan looked down at the floor uncomfortably.

“That seems like a ‘no’. So, I’m a prisoner,” Hugo said indifferently.

“Shut up,” Evan said quietly, his eyes still downcast.

“You might want to try that again with some feeling.”

“Shut up…or I’ll drug you.” There was no conviction to his words.

“Be my guest. Being awake hurts.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“You’re the doctor, you tell me.”

“Any normal person would be terrified.”

“A normal person wouldn’t kidnap a hitman. Are you? Terrified?”

“Yes.” The omission seemed to lift some sort of unseen weight. Evan visibly relaxed.

“Good,” Hugo said darkly.

“You can’t hurt me.”

“Not yet.”

Evan got slowly to his feet and left the room. Hugo subtly reactivated his Cicada. He had several missed calls from Bobby. Hugo needed to make the kill, and he needed to do it quickly. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when Evan emerged from the bathroom holding Hugo’s own pistol aloft.

“And there it is. You look like a kid who found his father’s gun.” It was true, Evan’s hand shook as he trained the pistol on Hugo, but his face was set into a mask of grim determination. “Put that down before you hurt yourself.”

“Shut up!” Evan barked. “I’m going to ask you some questions and you are going to answer them.” His voice shook yet it was clear he meant it.

“Or what?” Hugo couldn’t help but smirk.

“Answer and…you get to live.”

“I’ve known you for all of ten minutes and I can tell you don’t have it in you.”

“You don’t know me,” Evan said through clenched teeth.

“Prove me wrong then. Shoot. Gun me down in cold blood. I’m a sitting duck in this bed.”

“I saved your life. You owe me.”

“That’s not how that works. You made a choice. I don’t owe you shit.”

There was a pause filled only by the sound of Evan’s heavy breathing.

“You’re mafia, right?”

“No, I work for a puppy rescue.”

Evan disregarded his sarcasm. “Which family?”

Hugo smiled maliciously. “Pets Are Us.”

“Don’t fuck with me.” The gun shook in his hand.

“But it’s so much fun.”

“You’re a Conti. You’re assassins, right?”

Hugo laughed. It hurt, but he couldn’t help it. “You make it sound so dramatic.”

“You kill for money, right?”

“God, you have no idea how much trouble you’re in, do you?”

“Don’t patronise me.” Evan steadied the gun with difficulty. “Julian Carter, do you know the name? Do you know what happened to him?”

“Why? Who was he to you?” Hugo asked slyly.

Evan took a step closer as he said, “Just answer the question.”

That step had taken Evan within arm’s reach. Hugo pounced, but as soon as he tried to move, there was a crunch and then a pop. Hot agony blazed across his chest. He fell back. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. Hugo gasped desperately trying to drag air into his lungs, but it was no use.

Evan was leaning over him, his hands holding him down as he thrashed, the gun forgotten on the nightstand.

“…Can’t…Breathe…”

“Dammit. I think your lung collapsed again. This is gonna hurt.” And it did.

Hugo couldn’t cry out—Evan had shoved some clean gauze in his mouth—but if he were able, it would have been heard for miles. Evan worked as fast as he could and when Hugo finally passed out it was a relief.

The next time he awoke, he could tell much more time had passed. His mouth was dry, and his head felt fuzzy. He felt strangely absent from his body, like he was floating in a warm lake. Hugo tried to sit up, but he couldn’t quite coordinate the movement.

“Easy there, you’re pretty heavily medicated.”

Soft hands helped him into an upright position. He turned his head and found his face inches from Evan’s. Up close, Hugo could see the dazzling mint colour of his eyes. He thought mildly that he could stare into them for hours. Discomfited by the proximity, Evan pulled away.

“Here, have some water.” Evan held a glass to Hugo’s lips, and he gratefully supped at it.

“I feel…I’m…” Hugo’s words were slurred.

“High as kite. Yeah. But you’re burning through meds and I’m all out. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Where did you get meds? That’s not very upstanding citizen…ly.” Hugo was having trouble stringing his thoughts together.

“My neighbour across the hall is a dealer.”

“Shouldn’t you live in a huge condo in Eltham?”

“I work for a hospital, not a medcentre. I know we both charge, but Metro wouldn’t turn you away if you didn’t have a payment card ready. I’m not in it for the money.”

“You have a thing about saving people, huh?”

“Do no harm,” Evan said again.

Several more hours passed. The mellow, drugged up feeling slowly ebbed away to be replaced with pain. Hugo had no idea what time it was. With the shutters still covering the empty window frames it could have been noon or midnight. He had lost all sense of time during his bouts of unconsciousness.

“How are you feeling?” Evan asked. He was sitting on a wooden chair next to the bed with Hugo’s pistol resting on his knee.

“This again?” Hugo ached all over. Every breath he took felt like his chest was going to split open.

“I just need information, then I’ll let you go.” Evan’s knuckles paled as he gripped the gun.

“You seem nervous. This your first rodeo? Of course it is, look at you. Look at this place. Why are you doing this? We both know you won’t shoot me.”

Evan looked Hugo up and down, assessing the danger and seemed to land where Hugo had. No matter how much Hugo wanted to complete his mission, he was in no condition.

“My father was a mean sonuvabitch and my mother couldn’t cope. He was violent. He hurt her in ways no person should ever have to endure, but the worst thing he ever did to her was leave. One day, he just packed his bags and we never saw him again. I thought it was Christmas in July, but my mom…it destroyed her. He was the only constant in her life. It might have been constant abuse, but…she depended on him. When he left it was like her world ended.”

“That’s a rough start for a kid.”

“I don’t want your pity,” Evan spat the words.

“I’m not offering any. Everyone in this city has a sob story.”

“She’s better now.” Evan pushed on. “She’s in a real good place. She’s happy, but back then she wasn’t equipped to raise a child. She just didn’t have it in her. She’d suffered too much. My father might have been a deadbeat, but my uncle Julian, his brother, he was the exact opposite. He raised me. He came to every event, he taught me how to shave, how to date. He supported me through med school…” Evan tailed off, a sad distant look clouding his expression.

“And then?” Hugo prompted, surprised to find that he wanted to hear more.

“He was a good man. He never gave up on anyone, including my dad. Turns out, my dad went on the run because he owed some gangsters big. Gambling debts. When my uncle found out, he pulled all the cash he had together and set out to find my dad. He said that they would talk to the people he owed and pay off the debts so my dad could come home. The next thing I know, the cops are at my door telling me he was found in some junkyard, a bullet in his head execution style.”

“How long ago?”

“Two years. That’s a hit. It has to be. He didn’t hurt anyone. He didn’t have any enemies. The only reason he would have ended up dead like that is because the mobsters my dad owed killed him. Was it your family? Do you know anyone who kills like that?”

“I do.”

Before Hugo even registered that he had moved, Evan was on his feet pressing the gun against Hugo’s forehead. “Did you kill him?” It was clear that Evan still carried all the pain from that loss. The anger and the hurt bubbled palpably beneath the surface.

“If I did, would you pull the trigger?”

“Tell me the truth.”

“Thought not. Quick and clean is mob standard unless you want to send a message or throw off the cops. But I think you already know that. It could have been any button man from any family in the city.”

“Was it you?” The words were whispered, like Evan was afraid of the answer.

“I know the name of every person I’ve killed, it’s a long list, but Julian Carter isn’t on it.”

“How do I know if you’re telling the truth or not?”

“You don’t. But that gun in your hand? It’s mine. It’s a signature of sorts and it’s rare. It’s the only gun I use.”

Hugo grabbed the barrel of the gun and tried to rest it from Evan’s grip, but his strength failed him. Evan pulled away, staggering back.

“It was a pulse weapon that killed him,” he said like Hugo hadn’t just made an attempt to disarm him.

“Tacky. Low brow. Not my style.”

Evan searched Hugo’s face as if he thought he could read the truth there. He let the gun fall limp at his side. “Would you be able to find out who did?”

“That’s your plan? It’s a terrible one. Any names I could give you would kill you on sight. And if you found the killer, what then? You’re in over your head. Let this go.”

“Maybe I won’t shoot, but I can deny you pain meds.” There was a slightly desperate air to his voice now. “Could you find out?”

Hugo contemplated this. “Probably. But why would I?”

“I saved you and you aren’t leaving until I get my answers.”

“You don’t have the stomach for this.”

“Don’t push me.”

“That’s all I’ve done—and you still haven’t made a move.” Hugo struggled into an upright position. “See, if it was me, I wouldn’t have asked so nicely. I would have jammed my finger into an open wound, or better yet, I wouldn’t have saved me until I talked. You aren’t cut out for this.”

“But I did save you and you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to. You call Medicus and I’ll be happy to call the cops and explain how you tried to kill me. So, I ask again, can you find out what happened to my uncle?”

“Finally, a little backbone. It’s sexy.” Hugo mulled over his options for a moment. “Let’s deal.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“I don’t need your money.”

“Then what do you want?”

Another good question. What did Hugo want? He didn’t want to admit to Samuel that he’d made another mistake. He didn’t want to hear Bobby’s jibes about getting injured by a civilian no matter how good-natured they might have been. He didn’t really want to kill Evan Carter. If he was honest, he wanted to chase the curious feeling he had about the man in front of him. “I don’t want to admit to the brass I got hurt on a job. It’s not good for the rep. You keep me alive, get me better, so that the family never finds out, and I’ll do everything I can to find out what happened to your uncle.” Hugo had no reason to offer that deal, there were other ways to get out of his current predicament, but he did it anyway.

“You won’t try to kill me again?” Desire for the truth was warring with Evan’s better judgment. Hugo had him; it was written clear as day on his face.

“Why would I kill my doctor?” It sounded like a threat because it was one.

They passed the next several hours in silence, Hugo dozing in and out of consciousness as high fever claimed him. It was dark by the time it had broken, and he was fully aware of his surroundings again.

He scanned the room for Evan and quickly spotted him sprawled across the small sofa, his long legs dangling over the edge. A half-eaten bowl of soup rested precariously on his lap. Hugo’s gun was nowhere to be seen.

Holding his own hand to his mouth to muffle any shouts of pain, Hugo attempted to stand. With a Herculean effort, he dragged himself to his feet. He made it two steps before he fell to his knees, the pain and the exhaustion making him feel sick.

Evan roused as Hugo hit the floor and sprang into action. He pulled Hugo’s arm around his shoulder and tried to take him back to the bed.

“What don’t you get about needing rest?”

“Need the bathroom,” Hugo said breathily.

“Fine. Lie down and I’ll get you something to?—”

“You know, I think I’ll save myself that little indignity. Help me into the room and I’ll take it from there.”

Shaking his head, Evan half-carried Hugo across the room. It was a small apartment and yet, it felt like a marathon. By the time they reached the bathroom door the only thing keeping Hugo on his feet was Evan.

“Just let me help you. I’m a doctor, remember? I’ve seen and done far worse.”

Groaning, Hugo agreed.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” Hugo said after Evan had settled him back into bed.

Evan didn’t respond, he just moved back over to the couch and sat down. He looked tired.

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“You’re the patient. Not me. Do you want something to eat?”

“You look exhausted. If it’s all the same to you I’d rather my doctor didn’t collapse.”

Evan surveyed Hugo for a moment. He seemed to be warring between naturally good bedside manner and his dislike of the man who had tried to murder him. “Eat something and if you keep it down, I’ll sleep.”

“Deal.”

“Are you going to try and kill me the moment I shut my eyes?”

“I might be a monster, but I keep my word.” That was true, a violent killer he may be, but Hugo rarely reneged on a deal.

“Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?”

Hugo suppressed a smile; he kind of liked Evan Carter.

The archway that led to the tiny kitchen was right next to the front door. Hugo watched lazily as Evan heated some soup and poured it into a bowl. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was until the smell wafted into the main area.

“I hope you like tomato,” Evan said mildly. He wrapped the bowl in a dish towel and settled it gently onto Hugo’s lap before handing him a spoon. “Be careful. It’s hot.”

Hugo took a small mouthful of soup and felt the warmth travel through his body. He took another and then another savouring the taste before he started to feel sick. Slowing his pace, he looked over at Evan who was watching him like a mildly interesting science experiment.

“You should leave,” he said after a moment. “When I’m better and you have your answers, you should leave Tenebrium.”

“Excuse me?” Evan looked genuinely nonplussed.

“You have two options here. Stay and die. Or run and hope to God they don’t find you.”

“You can’t scare me into leaving my home.”

“You’re playing with the mob here. That’s who sent me. That’s who I am. It’s some shit luck, but you don’t have a choice. Run. You aren’t cut out for the underworld.”

“And you are? You got distracted by a pretty face.”

“A beautiful face,” Hugo corrected inconsequentially. “You saw me kill a man. I used my fingers to dig around in his skull and pull out the bullet I put there.” Evan looked repulsed. Good. “I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. I’ll honour our deal, but after… the people I work for…Run. That is the only repayment I can offer you.”

“So, you really aren’t going to kill me yourself as soon as you’re back on your feet?”

“Apparently not.” Hugo had no desire to kill the man, but equally he had no desire to die for him, and that was what would happen if his family found out Hugo had let Evan live. Evan had to leave for both their sakes.

“Tenebrium is my home.”

“Don’t you get it? Life as you know it is over. If I don’t kill you—someone else will. No loose ends. Ever. They will never stop coming for you.”

“Tenebrium is my home,” Evan said again. His face was set, defiance shone out of every pore. “I won’t be driven out of it by people like you.”

“Then I might as well kill you now. At least I’ll make it quick.”

“You can’t scare me.”

“Clearly, and that just shows how in over your head you are.”

There was a knock at the door that stopped them both cold. It was gentle. Somehow, that made it more threatening.

“We need to hide. The bathroom. Go.” Hugo was immediately on the alert.

“It could be anyone.”

“Move. Now.”

The knock sounded again, this time accompanied by a feminine voice as sultry as it was sweet. Alice. “Evan Carter? This is the police. Open up.”

Evan moved almost instinctually towards the door.

“Stop,” Hugo hissed.

Hugo tried to get to his feet, but the pain was too great. He stuffed his own fist in his mouth to stifle a yell. The gesture seemed to convince Evan where his words couldn’t. He reached down to help Hugo stand and all but carried him into the bathroom. Hugo struggled to keep himself awake as the darkness tried desperately to claim him.

The bathroom was tiny. Simple and clean, but in desperate need of updating. Evan set Hugo down on the floor and pulled the door shut. Both listened hard. There was the sustained rattle of a hand trying a doorknob, then the rhythmic clicking of a lock being picked.

Hugo pressed a hand over his mouth and nose to supress the heave that was trying to expel the soup he had eaten.

“Evan Carter?” Alice called again. There was a moment of silence then, “It’s me. The place is trashed. Blood everywhere.” Pause. “No. No body but maybe Hugo moved it.” Another pause. “He’s probably lying low somewhere. You sound worried, Bobby. Should I be jealous?”

Not long after, they heard the door shut, but it was a while before they moved back into the living area.

Hugo was struggling to stay conscious as Evan laid him back on the bed. “We need to leave here.”

“We have to take you to a hospital.”

“No. I can’t have them know I got injured on the job. Sam isn’t that forgiving.”

“Who’s ‘Sam’?”

“My father and my boss. It doesn’t matter. We need to move. Someone is going to notice you aren’t dead, sooner or later.”

“I’ve already told you, the only place we’re going is the Emergency Room. We can figure out what we are going to do after that later.”

“Like it or not you are in a tough spot. There have been no cops. No one is looking for you because no one has any reason to believe that you’re not okay yet. You either need to get dead or get gone. The choice is yours. More of them will come.”

“What happens if I just go to work like nothing happened? You get better, I get my answers, and we just get out of each other’s lives.”

“Nothing at first. Then one of my people decides to check up on you and the next thing you know someone like me is knocking at your door. You got lucky. You’re no match for me or anyone like me.”

“I did okay,” Evan said, a faint note of hubris in his voice. Hugo wondered where it stemmed from.

“No, you didn’t. If I hadn’t been reckless, you’d be dead. I could have shot you through your window and you’d never have known what hit you. You stabbed me and it barely slowed me down.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“Good. That’s the first sign you’ve showed that you actually wanna live.”

“Looks like we’re each other’s problem now.”

“I was supposed to kill you and I didn’t. The mafia aren’t just going to let that go. We need to hide. That woman—” he pointed in the vague direction of the door, “—was Alice. She’s like me but worse and believe me, she is someone you never want to meet.”

“I won’t leave.”

“Then our deal is off.”

“You wouldn’t.” Evan pulled Hugo’s gun shakily from the back of his trousers and aimed it at Hugo. “We agreed. I keep you alive and you get me answers.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Me? I’m a stone-cold killer and I will not die for you. We either leave or the deal is off, and you will not see tomorrow.”

It was a full minute before Evan replied. Emotions warred on his face as he thought, flickering and changing so quickly Hugo couldn’t identify them all. “What do I do?” The gun fell limply to Evan’s side.