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

JACK

Blood trickled down the drain as the hot spray of the shower mingled with the tears on his face. He couldn’t bear to look at his naked body, the scars that had healed there reminded him of what he had lost. They were tangible proofs that it hadn’t all been a dream. Killing Jeffrey had done nothing to ease Hugo. He felt no respite from the burning chasm in his chest, but it was that fire that kept him on his feet.

Hugo knew as soon as he stepped out of the shower to towel off that someone was in his apartment, but he didn’t care. He didn’t hurry to get dressed or reach for one of the many weapons he had stashed around the place. He took his time rubbing his hair dry, then pulled on a pair of clean boxers.

Broken glass crunched under his bare feet as he made his way into the living room. What had once been a beautiful and warm space was now a wreck. The marble mantle over the fireplace was cracked and crumbling. The bookshelves had been toppled and loose pages littered the dark wood floors. The glass coffee table had been smashed, blood mingling with the shards underneath, and the couch cushions were scattered and ripped.

Sitting amongst the chaos and looking grim was Bobby. They were the exact opposite of their surroundings: immaculate.

“You look like shit,” Bobby said bluntly.

“Wouldn’t you?” Hugo said with a twisted smile. “What do you want?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” And they looked it.

“Is that it?”

“Hugo…if there is anything?—”

“You were right. I should have seen this coming. People like us don’t get to be happy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He sent you, didn’t he?”

Bobby was caught and they knew it. It was plain on their face. “The boss thinks that all you need is a few days and then you’ll be back. If he had seen you that night…He doesn’t get it, but I do.”

“No, you don’t. You wouldn’t be here playing messenger if you did.”

“I know that it was you who killed Jeff and I know you aren’t stopping there. Samuel doesn’t know that you know he gave the order, but if you keep this up he will.”

“You can go now.”

“Hugo,” Bobby snapped. “I’m worried about you. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now, but if you start picking off family men, there won’t be a soul in Tenebrium who can protect you.”

“Look around. I have nothing left to lose.”

Bobby didn’t reply, so Hugo reached down to pull a broken bottle of bourbon from the floor. There was still some liquid inside. He tossed a large chunk of glass aside then took a long draught from what remained.

“I’m sorry.” Bobby’s voice was low and pained. “I warned him that it would destroy you. I begged him.”

“But you went along with it anyway. You stared me in the face, and you lied. You knew what they had planned, what they were doing. You knew it would destroy me and you did it anyway.” Emotions were fleeting for Hugo now; the only constant was grief. The anger that flared as Bobby spoke died before it could really take hold, like it was claimed by the void, like he didn’t have the energy to hold them all anymore.

“He threatened Dana.”

“Get out.”

“We’re family,” they said as if it would change something.

“Not anymore.”

“So, what now? Should I be looking over my shoulder? Watching my back?”

Hugo didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

“Take your shot then,” Bobby said with defiance. “Why wait? I’m right here. I’ve never been a match for you, so just get it over with.”

“You’re not the next name on my list.”

“Hugo…”

“Leave!” He roared.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“Aren’t I already dead?”

Shaking their head sadly, Bobby got to their feet and left.

Bobby would get what was coming to them, but not today. Hugo was working backwards; the more serious the crime the further down the list. Bobby had been his closest friend, the person he trusted more than just about anyone and worse than this he had been friends with Evan. The retribution for such a betrayal would take time to plan, and Bobby’s death would not be quick.

Ignoring the cold that covered his skin in goose-pimples, Hugo dredged through the detritus to sit at his writing desk. He cleared the splinters and shards from the top and placed his hand in the centre. The datastream came reluctantly to life, floating in the air in front of him, composed of blue light. It flickered and stuttered, damaged like the rest of the apartment. He scanned through the various new sites that popped up on his home page. Bobby had been right; the death of Jeffrey Tallow was everywhere.

Jeffrey had been the Conti family’s first choice for arms. He wasn’t their only contact, of course, but his death would be a blow to Sam. Hugo cursed aloud. He didn’t care if he was caught and killed now, but he needed to survive just long enough to scratch all the names off his list. He couldn’t do that if the family realised that he was waging war on them. He was going to have to go in. The thought boiled his blood. Would he be able to face Sam and the others? Would he be able to convince them that he had nothing to do with the death of Jeffrey Tallow?

As if summoned by the thought, a call came in through Hugo’s Cicada. The words: ‘SAMUEL CONTI’ flashed across his vision in blue.

“How are you, son?” Samuel asked with the air of a loving father.

“I’m fine.” The lie cost him something.

“I know you’re having a tough time, but I need you. Will you come in?”

“The family always comes first.” Hugo forced the words out through gritted teeth.

“Always. Come straight to my office when you get here.”

The line went dead, and Hugo let out a sigh that was more like a snarl. He could do this. He had to. If Samuel realised he had killed Jeffrey, he wouldn’t get a chance to enact his revenge and he refused to let that happen. Evan deserved blood.

Hugo was crumbling, slowly ebbing away, but he had to convince everyone in his life that he was fine. That a couple weeks of moping had been all he needed. That Evan had been nothing but a passing fancy and the loss of him didn’t matter. But how? The loss of Evan consumed every waking moment. It was Hugo’s every thought. The absence of the man he loved felt like someone was clawing at his chest, but he couldn’t let it show. He had to lock Evan away. He had to put him inside a box in his mind and lock it. He had to forget Evan existed outside the four walls of his apartment.

Hugo dressed in a dark midnight blue suit. The colour had been somewhat of a trademark of his and he had to look the part. It was with a deep-seated unease that he made his way to Borden Tower. He hadn’t set foot in the place since…he couldn’t bear to think about it. And yet, as he stood on the street in front of it, it looked no different. Nothing had changed with the building, just with him.

Hann seemed to know that he wasn’t in a mood to talk, and he entered the elevator code without a word. Hugo’s heart pounded in his chest as the lift rose. He was about to put on the performance of his life, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready. All too soon the doors opened, and he was stepping out into the penthouse.

Of all the people that could have greeted him, he was relieved to find himself face to face with Mariam Conti. She was a Middle Eastern woman in her late forties, with glossy dark hair and a prominent nose that gave her face a regal quality. She was the epitome of a mob wife: beautiful and far smarter than she let on. Mariam was dripping in gold jewellery which only served to make her look more queen-like.

“Hugo,” she said warmly as she drew him into her arms. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Hugo stiffened in her embrace. He didn’t want a mother’s comfort; it would cloud his judgement.

“Thank you.” He kissed Mariam on the cheek then gently pulled away from her. “Dad is waiting for me.”

“It’s too soon. I can see it on your face.” The sincere concern in her rich brown eyes was almost too much for him to bare.

“I’m fine. I want to be here,” Hugo lied.

“Sam will find the person who did this and make them pay.”

Bile rose in the back of Hugo’s throat, but he forced it back. All he could do was nod, but it seemed enough to placate Mariam.

“Dad is expecting me.”

He turned away from her and headed to the study. The door was ajar, and as he entered, he found Bobby perched on the edge of the desk as usual, while Samuel worked at the console behind it.

Bobby froze when they saw him, the blood draining from their face. Hugo stared them down for a moment, silently daring them to say something, but they didn’t. He turned his attention to his father.

“There he is,” Samuel said with a paternal smile. “Thank you for coming in.”

“Put me to work.”

“Are you okay, son?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, buddy?” Bobby said with a nervous glance at Samuel. “You don’t need a few more days? You lost the?—”

“I’m fine. I’m back.”

Each time he said it, the lie got easier and easier to perpetuate. Hugo’s mask had slipped into place. It fit like a glove.

“Getting back to normal is the best thing for him.” An outsider may not have been able sense the threat in Samuel’s voice, but Hugo did. And so did Bobby. He was warning them not to push. “He had a little dalliance, and it went badly. I’m sure he just wants to put it behind him.”

Bobby’s eyes went wide, and they moved their hand subtly to their jacket where Hugo knew they kept their gun as if they thought Hugo was going to lunge for Samuel, but Hugo didn’t react.

“Who’s my target?” Hugo said, stepping further into the room and ignoring Bobby.

“Attaboy.” Samuel leant back in his chair and clasped his hands over his stomach. “This one is a civilian contract. A dame caught her husband cheating and wants him gone. She’s an heiress and doesn’t feel like splitting her fortune in the divorce. With what she offered me, I’m not sure there is a word for the amount of money this bim has. Be creative and make it look tragic.”

“What about a Jonk crash?” Hugo offered.

“Make it happen.”

“Send me the details and I’ll get to work,” Hugo said to Bobby, who was still watching him warily.

“I’ll walk you out,” Bobby said with a deferential nod to Samuel as they got to their feet.

“Call me as soon as it’s done.”

Hugo let Bobby guide them into the main area of the penthouse and searched the space with his eyes, making sure they were alone before saying, “What?”

“A few hours ago you were falling apart. Now you’re all business?”

Hugo shrugged and turned away, but Bobby grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in close. “Don’t fuck with me,” they said in an undertone.

“Or what?”

“If you make a move on Samuel, I will kill you.”

“You mean you’d try.” Hugo’s face split into the first genuine smile it had worn in weeks. “If you are so worried about me, why don’t you tell him that I know what he did? Better yet, why don’t you warn him?”

“He pulled us both off the streets, man. He raised us,” Bobby implored. “He’s our dad.”

Hugo leant in to whisper in their ear, “What if it was Dana?”

Bobby blanched at that. “He will kill you,” they said as Hugo made to walk away.

“He can try.”

“I know you loved him, but it was just business.”

“And there it is. The reason you’re on my list.”

Hugo pulled away again; this time, Bobby didn’t try to stop him.

Mariam was gone when Hugo returned to the main room, and he was glad. It was harder to pretend with her than it was with the others. Inside the lift, he touched his hand to his Cicada.

“Hi, Jackie. It’s Hugo. I’ve got a job. Feel like throwing me an assist?”

Five days later, Hugo was sitting on a low stool in the office of Li’s Autoshop, facing the owner—Jack Li.

The office in which they sat was brightly lit by spotlights overhead. The walls were cinder and the floors concrete. Jonk parts were scattered all around. Jack was a mechanic by day, but by night he was a driver for hitters like Hugo.

“Bobby done did us proud,” Jack said, clicking his fingers in appreciation. “Your man is going to the opera tonight, booked a Jonk from Gold Transporters, but Bobby has rerouted the booking. We pick him up at seven-fifteen.”

“We’ll need to be in the Jonk. His wife wants the watch she gave him as a wedding gift back. Apparently, it was her father’s.”

“Samuel didn’t say nothing about a robbery,” Jack said, looking up from his Index.

“Think of it as proof of doing.”

Jack shrugged and went back to reading the holographic skin-mag he had projected into the air.

By six-thirty they had both changed into black tuxedos, ready to play the part of chauffeurs. They waited at the back entrance of the Autoshop for their Jonk to arrive. Quite how Jack had managed to procure a limousine transporter at such short notice, Hugo didn’t know.

The night was crisp and clear. The yellow smog that surrounded the city had thinned out and Hugo could almost see the stars.

“So, what’s the target’s name?” Jack asked, checking his watch.

“You didn’t read the file? You’ve had days.” Hugo all but rolled his eyes.

“Bridget and Randal really needed my attention.” Jack winked at Hugo, who grimaced.

“Spencer Laroux, sixty-four. He made his name in the news cycle but his money when he married Vanessa Hamilton-Laroux. He couldn’t keep it in his pants, and she’s out for blood.”

“Monogamy is a cruel thing for some.” Jack shrugged and peered skyward. “Speaking of—I know you’re smitten, but you ever step out on Evan?”

“What? No. Never.” He felt like his heart had evaporated in his chest, but Jack didn’t seem to notice.

“Where he at anyway? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

The rush of air above signalling the limo’s arrival saved Hugo from having to answer. He forced Evan back behind lock and key and focussed on the task at hand.

The transporter was long and black, with large front lights and a rectangular body. It was much longer than the usual models and didn’t have the customary rounded doors.

“Let’s go to work!” Jack said excitedly.

Jack, like so many who lived in Tenebrium’s underworld, was entirely desensitized to the horrors of what they did on a daily basis. Hugo had been the same until he became a victim of the underworld himself, and yet, there was not a bone in his body that would feel guilt over Spencer Laroux.

Spencer Laroux was wearing a pinstriped tuxedo when the limo landed next to him. He was of Egyptian descent, with greying hair and a finely trimmed beard. He looked younger than he was and gave off an air of charisma, even as he stood still on the rooftop of his grand apartment building.

“Good evening, Mr Laroux,” Hugo said as he got out and held the door open for the man. “My name is Dex; I’ll be your bodyguard for tonight.”

Spencer inclined his head slightly by way of greeting. “What happened to Morgan? Is he ill?”

“Family emergency,” Hugo lied smoothly.

“Shame. Give him my best.”

It was Hugo’s turn to nod. “Please.” He held out a hand directing Spencer into the back of the limo.

“And you are?” Spencer asked Jack as he settled himself on the expansive black leather sofa that spanned the back of the limo.

“Roland Chang,” Jack said with a grin that showed off a dimond encrusted grill Hugo hadn’t noticed before.

“The opera doesn’t start for another hour, perhaps we could take the scenic route?” Spencer asked, peering out the window.

“Yes, sir.”

Hugo followed Spencer’s gaze as the Jonk limo soared over Tenebrium. It really was beautiful with its Art Deco buildings and rainbow of coloured lights. It was like a living breathing thing.

“She’s a wonder, isn’t she?” Spencer said as if he had read Hugo’s thoughts.

As it turned out, Spencer was pleasant company. He was friendly and talked to Hugo and Jack like equals, not the help. None of that would change his fate, however.

Around fifteen minutes into the journey, when they were engulfed in the tide of traffic zooming around the Slipstream Highway, Hugo struck.

He lunged forward and hit Spencer hard in the face, dazing him, then he pulled zip ties from his pocket and bound his hands. Hugo grabbed the seatbelt that Spencer had neglected to wear and clicked it into place. With deft hands, he undid the man’s bowtie and used it to gag him, before wrestling his heavy gold watch from his wrist.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jack asked, peering over his shoulder, though he didn’t sound particularly concerned. “I don’t remember this being a torture gig.”

“It’s not.”

Hugo moved quickly behind Jack and reached over him to engage the auto pilot function.

“What’s the deal? You just jonesing to get your rocks off? It’s really not my scene.”

Hugo put his arm around Jack’s neck and dragged him backwards out of his seat and into the main body of the limo. All the while Spencer was struggling against his restraints and letting out muffled yells.

Hugo let go of Jack, who fell to his knees coughing. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Three weeks ago, you gave Alice a ride to my apartment. Why?”

Rubbing his throat, Jack heaved himself onto one of the seats adjacent to Spencer. “She said she had just finished a job and needed a getaway. Jonks are tracked. She needed a private transporter. She called me for the same reason you all call me.” Jack’s tone was erring on the side of belligerence. “So what?”

“Do you know what she did when she got there?”

Something in Hugo’s face must have scared Jack, because he sat up straighter and raised his hands as if in surrender. “I don’t ask questions. You know that. Getting involved like this—” he nodded to Spencer who was frantically trying to free himself, “— it’s a rarity. In fact, I only came along because…because…”

“I asked for you.” Hugo’s blood was like fire in his veins.

“If your girl stepped out of line, that’s nothing to do with me. I don’t know anything about it. I swear.”

“Then I guess no one will know why I killed you.”

There was a tearing sound as Spencer wrenched himself free. He tumbled forward out of his seat and immediately touched his hand to his Cicada. “Tenebrium Police?—”

Without a second though, Jack and Hugo dived at the man. Jack grabbed the hand touching the comms device as Hugo pinned Spencer to the ground. Spencer struggled, trying to wrench his arm free from Jack and buck Hugo off. He squirmed and fought with such ferocity that he nearly managed to shake them.

Abandoning his attempts to subdue the man without overt violence, Hugo punched Spencer hard in the side of the head, knocking him instantly unconscious.

Panting, Hugo and Jack extricated themselves from Spencer. There was a moment of calm before they jumped into action. Hugo sprang for Jack and missed as Jack ran the short distance for the driver’s seat. He disengaged autopilot and took the wheel. Jack sent the limo into a barrel roll that saw Spencer and Hugo crashing into the ceiling, then back on to the floor in a painful heap. As Hugo struggled to his feet, Jack repeated the manoeuvre, but Hugo was ready this time. He grabbed hold of an armrest, pulling out his gun as he did so. When the limo righted itself, Hugo landed perfectly on his feet. He moved behind Jack and pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of his head.

“I can pull this trigger before you can even think of your next move,” Hugo snarled. “Engage AP and get up.”

Jack pushed the button, then raised his hands and got to his feet. “What did I do to you, man?”

Hugo didn’t reply. He pushed Jack to his knees, then pulled the door lever. A rush of cold air filled the limo as the door swung wide. Alarms blared in the Jonk as the sound of the busy highway all but drowned them out. They were hundreds of feet in the air over the Pleasure Quarter. The people on the streets below were tiny specks, completely unaware of what was happening above them.

“Please don’t do this!” Jack yelled as he tried to scramble away from the opening, but Hugo took hold of his collar.

“I have to. You’re on my list.” And with that, he threw Jack from the limo. His yells were cut short as he collided with a Jonk taxi flying below them. Then another. Then another, before he was finally in free-fall. Hugo didn’t bother to watch him land. He turned to Spencer, who had woken up some time before but appeared too scared to act.

“You seem like a nice guy. Hopefully, you won’t suffer.”

Hugo sat in the driver’s seat, not taking much interest in what Spencer was doing. He aimed the Jonk on a downward trajectory. The sudden change in elevation caused Spencer to fall back into his seat. “Why?” was all he could muster.

As the Jonk soared rapidly towards the side of a tall tenement, Hugo moved to the open door. This was going to hurt, but it had to if it was to be believable. Timing it as best he could, he jumped, trying to land on a lower rooftop. One moment he was flying through the air in a free-fall, the next he was colliding with concrete. The limo hit an adjacent building and exploded on impact, as pain exploded through Hugo.

The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was his femur sticking out of his thigh.