Heart of Darkness (Mute)

[Zero]

The truck arrived by daylight - large, black, unmarked, and unremarkable. It rumbled into a row of little-used industrial warehouses on the back streets of Los Santos and backed up to one of several dozen vacant loading docks. Two men wheeled a large, featureless crate, as big as a refrigerator box, off the truck and into the cavernous depths of the warehouse.

Nightfall. Los Santos turned to a smear of muddy, sodium-yellow lights. A teenaged boy powered his bicycle up one of the loading ramps into the warehouse and ground to a halt inside, squinting in the darkness.

"Deke? I... I brought the money!"

The boy carefully lowered his bike to the filthy concrete floor with shaking hands. The darkness seemed to leak out from the place like smoke.

"Back here, Chris. I got the product."

The voice slithered out from the darkness, back behind one of the huge boxes looming around the warehouse. There were just enough abandoned crates to turn the place into a maze. Chris picked his way forward toward the crate and saw a pair of eyes reflecting light back at him, like an animal's eyes at night. Below the eyes was a hand shaking a small plastic bag full of clear fluid.

"And it really works?" Chris asked haltingly.

"Guaranteed from the source," Deke replied. "I even tried out the batch myself."

"And?"

Deke's eyes glinted, a grinning coyote in the light of a campfire. "What do you think?"

Chris swallowed nervously, then dug his hand deep in his jeans pocket to feel for the wad of crumpled bills inside. "Tell me how it works."

"You need to give it some DNA," Deke replied. "Blood works well. Just a drop. If you're normal, the liquid stays clear. If you're a carrier, it goes cloudy. But if you're a mutie, the whole thing goes dark. Just as good as gettin' a gene screen."

Chris stared at the little packet. A storm of conflicting feelings raged inside him and never quite made it out to his face.

"So you buyin' or not?" Deke said. "I'm giving you this shot 'cause you're my friend. I've got other customers to sell to."

Chris took a deep breath and pulled the money out in a tightly clenched fist. Deke grinned and took a step toward him.

There was a sudden hiss of friction and a metallic hum, and both boys jumped back and looked at the large crate beside them to see a long, thin blade had grown out of its side. Then the blade began to glide through the hardened pine planks, which offered about as much resistance as a bowl of gelatin. It carved a neat oval out of the crate's wall, which fell with a crash to the floor. The blade was attached to a handle, which was held tightly by a pair of hands wrapped in a mesh of metal and polymers. A single red eye glowed from the darkness inside the crate, sweeping back and forth between the boys.

Deke screamed and disappeared - literally - into the shadows. Chris, who never got his home-brewed mutancy test, got his answer nonetheless when he started running and found himself three townships away in the space of thirty seconds.

Zero remained more or less motionless until he had completed his internal system checks. He sheathed his sword across his back and stepped out into the warehouse, automatically adjusting his ocular lens for the variable light levels.

*****Downloading mission objectives... ///Download complete.
Accessing...
> Locate Mutant Subject 470113.
> Return Mutant Subject 470113 to home base.
> Return target alive if possible.
> Terminate taget if necessary.

Zero accessed the target's genetic profile from the mission file and studied it, memorizing the entire key sequence in a matter of moments, like a bloodhound memorizing a criminal's scent. He would track the target down. It would only be a matter of time.

The cybernetic assassin shimmered and disappeared, then struck out to prowl the streets of Los Santos.

[Cameron Bell]

The afternoon was rounded off with a glass of pink lemonade. Pink lemonade. Cameron tossed little Jamie an incredulous glance as she handed it to him and gave the cloudy drink an experimental stir with his finger first. Ice cubes tinkled melodically against the glass. He gulped the lot whole-heartedly then went about gathering up the gardening tools he and Ronnie had busied themselves with all day. His knees were caked in soil and Anna was quick to point this out before he traipsed through the kitchen, so he dusted himself down and kicked off his dirty sneakers.

Anna was preparing the dinner, a generous spread of various breads, cured meats, cool dips, and a large healthy salad, Cameron also guessed there would be plenty of pink lemonade involved. Not that it mattered for he had no intention of joining the rest of his genetically disfunctional surrogate family for dinner that night. He informed Anna by way of a note, written using colourful markers and placed lop-sidedly on the fridge using a Piglet magnet, that he was going bowling with friends and would have fast food for dinner courtesy of the generous allowance he was afforded each month from a mystery uncle who he simply described as "European".

So, after a refreshing shower and a quick word with Ronnie, Cameron borrowed his bike and cycled out into the warm glow of the evening sun.

[Mute]

The cheese wire squeaked as it broke his victim's skin. Something resembling a gasp of pain escaped his mouth, promting Mute to pull harder until his hands stung. The man was a burly thing, large veins throbbed under the constriction in his neck and his cleanly shaven head was cut deep from being rammed into a brick wall, he was too dazed to fight back and soon his struggle came to an end with one last drawn gurgling rasp. Mute discarded the body to one side then slumped down next to it, his back pressed against the blood-stained wall, while he caught his breath.

He had encountered the man muscling his way into an apartment in a shoddy low-rise motel. It would be more accurate to say that he had been sat patiently on the bed awaiting the enforcer's arrival so that with a well-timed kick, he would be sent careening over the creaky wooden rail and fall from the gangway. Unfortunately, the fall hadn't killed him and the youngster was forced to get his hands dirty. The execution was quick and simple enough but it wasn't where his work ended.

A butterfly knife was retrieved from the back pocket in his jeans, he flicked the handle and it opened, spun, and clicked fast on the other side, the silver blade revealed. Under the newly lit haolgen lamp, the dead man's face shimmered with sweat and shadows ran where his skin was creased from the exertions of his agonised end. He positioned the knife gingerly over his cheek, the tip punctured his clammy flesh and he carved letters in his face - FU - one on each cheek.

F.U., or Freak's United, is an entirely fictional band of mutants imagined by Mute and his partner, and designed to provoke the hatred and retaliation of mundane gangs and criminal organisations in Los Santos. Thus far their plan was working a treat, Freak's United had become notorious in the local media and, sooner or later, someone's hand will be forced. His work finished, he gave one cautionary glance across the vacant parking lot and departed for the neighbouring tree line.

[Zero]

The search was four days old. Zero had canvassed several nests of mutant activity across Los Santos, including Redencion House, where his surveillance turned up a few promising leads.

There were also the police blotter reports of escalating mutant gang violence in the borough. Zero had been recording those and transmitting them back to base for analysis. He had been told that they were at once too foolhardy to be organized and too professional to be random, which meant that the killings were not the end in themselves. This made little difference to Zero. For him, the mission was always the end.

However, learning to think like the enemy made it that much easier to predict his moves. So when Zero intercepted a cell phone call from one Tres Once to another indicating that the mystery killer was hiding on the second floor of the Parkside Motel, he interpreted it not as a mistake but as bait.

Shrounded in optic camouflage, he sat in the darkness of the abandoned, trash-filled park and listened to the distant scuffle. Beside him lay a heavily used mountain bike.

Zero drew three tranq-tipped senbon and waited for his target to appear.

[Mute]

Beyond the distant trees the sky was coloured purple and below them the park had sunk into darkness. Mute stepped out into a clearing where at the centre of which was a playground, there were swings and a roundabout, a couple of see-saws and a climbing frame, all sat on a bed of wood chips and surrounded by a waist-high iron fence. The only sounds to be heard were the crunching of grass under his feet and the distant roar of the freeway.

Mute sprung over the fence and approached Ronnie's bike, he hefted it upright and cocked his leg over the seat. A shimmer in the air and he ducked, gasping with fright. There was the faint whistle of something small sailing past his ear, and as he righted himself he felt a sharp pinch somewhere between his shoulder and neck. It felt icy cold beneath his skin. There was another shimmer of movement and he dived, crashing on top of his bike, the spinning wheel threw up wood chip and it struck something solid. And invisible.

Frantically, he pulled at the thing embedded in his shoulder, it was a needle of some sort and it glimmered in the dark. And with dawning shock, Mute understood, and clawed and crawled across the floor as the world started to turn.

[Zero]

Mute felt a knee crash solidly into the center of his back, pressing him down against the ground, and a hand with an iron grip closed around the back of his neck.

Zero dropped his camouflage and shimmered into sight, a gunmetal gray suit of armor with one crimson, glowing, cyclopean eye, neither fully machine nor fully alive. He shifted his grip and turned Mute's head so he could get a look at his face.

**** Target confirmed. *****

Holding his last senbon between thumb and forefinger, Zero prepared to drop it straight into Mute's carotid artery.

[Mute]

Something malignant was coursing through his veins, affecting his every sense, the pain in his back faded and a dreamy haze closed in around his field of vision. And through that haze he caught a glimpse of his attacker, nothing more than an onimous shape and an angry red glow. In its hand he made out a glistening sliver of light, another poisoned needle, and knew that it was over. The death he'd escaped had finally caught up with him and it was time to join his sister, the sister he'd been helpless to protect. Helpless.

No! He didn't want to die. He wasn't ready to die. The senbon whistled through the air - he wasn't going to die - and snapped against his skin. His roar was silent but the effect was all the same, he struck the ground beneath him with his open hands and both he and his attacker were sent up into the air amongst a shower of wood chips. He hit the ground with a heavy thud, the air rushed ouf of his lungs and he choked desperately, scrambling across the floor in the knowledge that he was free of it, if only for a moment. He reached the fence and pulled himself up onto his knees, his heart beating wildly to chase away the drowsiness plagueing his heavy limbs.

[Zero]

Zero was not prepared - either for the failure of his senbon or the massive burst of strength from his quarry. The parameters for Mute's mutation had not been specifically described to him. He decided, in mid-air, that he would have to update them as the mission progressed.

The cyborg twisted around so he landed on hands and feet like a cat. Then he charged at the boy with a feint and then a flurry of savage strikes, intent on overwhelming his foe before the sedative wore off completely.

[Mute]

It was like a wall of fists, fists made of steel, each one being driven into his body with the force of a charging bull. He'd staggered to his feet, barely, and had raised his arms in a vain attempt to defend his head but it was like a machine; relentless and powerful with punches like pistons. And buried beneath that groggy stupor, Mute saw himself being pummelled and it felt like drowning, and he feared for his life. In his fear, he found himself.

One of the unmerciful blows sailed past him as he bobbed out of its crushing path, the following punch was parried clumsily and glanced off his jaw, he staggered against the fence like a beaten boxer slumps against the ropes. This time, however, he saw the attack coming, and everything slowed down. The figure had raised itself up to deliver a fierce backhand to his head, Mute surged forward and ducked to put all of his upward force into an uppercut which, if it connected, could give him a valuable window of opportunity. He clenched his fist, and clung onto his life with it.

[Zero]

The cyborg saw the boy's muscles bunching up for the assault and turned his head so the attack glanced across his cheek instead catching him squarely in the jaw; even so, the force of the blow staggered him and gave Mute momentum. Zero warded off another pair of blows, each one stronger than the last, far stronger than a nineteen-year-old boy should have been able to muster. But there was little guile, little planning. His opponent was fighting out of desperation and instinct, fighting like a cornered animal.

Zero gave him the opening he was after - a slight dip of the elbow, just enough to give the illusion that he was tiring. And when Mute struck, Zero seized his arm, spun around, and flipped the boy over his back, slamming him bodily into the chain-link fence.

[Mute]

The fence rattled from the collision and Mute was to bounce from it and crumple to the floor like a ragdoll. Except he didn't. His fingers slipped through the holes and hooked around the mesh, the momentum from the collision still thrust his body away from the fence but he used this to his advantage. His feet found his attackers neck and coiled around it, and with a sudden twist of the hips, he expected to hear a satisfying and conclusive snap...

[Zero]

If it was possible to surprise Zero, Mute may have just done it - but the cords of artificial muscle surrounding the cyborg's neck were strong enough to keep his spine from snapping under the strain. Mute's weight still bore him down to the ground with a crash, and they fell in a heap, Mute on top.

[Mute]

If it wasn't for the adrenaline overdose keeping him on the move, Mute would've froze, he got his first good look at his attacker and they were a mere breath away from each other. There was no face. No eyes. Just a stark red glare. He was on his feet again and fought off a rush of diziness as he ran away. If he could just get to his bike. He didn't dare look back.

[Zero]

In one fluid motion Zero pushed off the ground and swung up onto his feet. His target was already running, and Zero gave chase, feet pounding, servos hissing - he made up ground like a cheetah on a gazelle. But Mute caught the handlebars as he passed and didn't even break stride to find his seat; a few strong pumps of the pedals, and he was pulling away from his pursuer into the darkening street.

Zero slowed down from his sprint, tracked Mute's motion down the street, and then broke off toward the motel parking lot. He knew a fellow who would not be needing his vehicle now, or ever again.

[Mute]

The bike tore off down the street, rocking frantically from left to right under the shifting weight of its occupant. His chest heaved and his thighs burned but his pace never faltered. The wheels juddered as he turned off the sidewalk and swerved out into the road, there were few cars but he kept close to the edge in case he needed to take a sudden detour. His mind was fixed on getting back to Redención House and as quickly as possible. It had been so close.

The night air lapped at his hot face but it brought him little solace, questions raced through his head and he wondered if Spectre...

A thunderous roar and an angry gnashing of metal sounded as a pair of glaring headlights broke through hedgerow beside him, Mute gasped. Behind the steering wheel hovered an ominous red eye. His efforts redoubled and he rose out of his seat and pounded at the pedals as the car swung out into the road and turned in pursuit.

[Zero]

In Zero's hands, the car was merely another weapon. The tires screeched as he swung it wide into the far lane and straightened, lining up the center ridge of the hood on Mute's rear reflector.

They were on a residential street with a significant downhill grade. To the right side was a long row of parked cars, a narrow sidewalk, and closely packed, dilapidated town homes with a continuous wall of iron fences and gates. To the left was an old church, a cemetery, and further down, a large schoolyard - few places for Mute to escape to. Zero pressed down on the gas pedal, fully intending to send Mute flying up over the hood and into the street behind him.

[Mute]

The sound of the revving engine struck his heart like an icepick and he wrestled with the handlebars, sending the bike veering off to the right, it hopped up onto the sidewalk and disappeared behind the long line of parked cars. Again he pumped furiously at the pedals, up ahead he saw a break in the pavement where a narrow alley seperated two of the tall town houses and, given a small glimmer of hope, he switched gears with the flick of a thumb.

There was a rattling clang and the pedals spun out of control, offering no resistance to his cycling, he looked down and found to his horror that the drive chain had come loose during the gear change. All he had left to lend him speed was the streets naturally steep decline. His clammy fingers hovered eagerly over the brake handle as the alley, and escape, rapidly approached.

[Zero]

Zero marked Mute's trajectory and speed and the distance to the alley. He gave the car a little more gas, pulling ahead of the crippled bicycle.

As he approached the alley, he jammed the parking brake and twisted the steering wheel savagely to the right. The car skidded around the last of the parked vehicles, spun ninety degrees, and planted its front bumper into the edge of the fence, blocking off Mute's escape into the alley.

[Mute]

In the split-second Mute had to react to his pursuer's latest move, he realised braking was out of the question, and crashed full speed into the side of the car. Launched out of his seat, he rolled forward and as he soared over the hood, planted his hands down firmly and performed a picture perfect front handspring. On the other side of the car, he hit the ground running, and was relieved to find the tranquilizer's effects had fully subsided. Behind him, he heard the vehicle reverse and struck one of the parked cars with a heavy crunch, the wheels gave a hungry screech and it was on the hunt once more.

It was impossible to outrun a speeding muscle car, Mute knew this and he leapt, sliding across the hood of another parked car and out into the road. His feet carried him quickly over to the other side, his eyes darting about for an escape route; his best option was the graveyard and it was close. And so was the savage growl of a V8 engine.

[Zero]

Zero saw the opening as soon as Mute did, and, for all the advantages he held, a human-sized body could change direction much more quickly than a large car. Just before Mute made his break, Zero swerved into the oncoming lane to cut him off, striking him with his right fender.