Carry me back to Cali [Canon Free Roam - Chapter 1]

”Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” I was running full tilt through the streets of San Diego, while the world was a hail of bullets behind me, pattering against buildings and streets like a heavy rain. A rain of lead. This time I had messed up big, way bigger than I ever had, and I was going to kill everyone that had ruined my leisurely life very slowly. Simple job they said. Just grab the girl and bring her to us they said. COULD HAVE TOLD ME SHE WAS THE DAUGHTER OF THE LOCAL CRIME SYNDICATE OVERLORD! WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE TO KNOW! A bullet ricocheted off of a nearby concrete wall as I rounded the corner on to Main and 52nd, taking a chunk of the concrete with and spraying it right in my face, which decided to draw a line of blood on my brow to run into my left eye. Great…now I can’t see out of that eye. Rubbing the blood away as I ran, I was not exactly sure how I was going to make it out of there this time, but maybe in the mall. I rushed through the doors with a storm of bullets right behind me—

[Record Scratches]

Ah, you’re probably wondered how I got in this situation, right? Alright, just have a seat over there and get comfortable, because I’m about to take you on a wild ride. Starts off slow though, but don’t worry, it gets better. Oh yeah, I’d had to leave New York and go to California…you know why. Anyway, here we go.

[Record needle scratch and it begins]

The new place was not too shabby, if I did say so myself, and of course I did. A few furnishings pilfered from the dump and washed up, whatever was left here as décor, and even a bit of alcohol behind the bar downstairs. After the cops raided this place for being a whore house, I took up residence in the abandoned husk of its former glory, a place called the Firehouse, due to it once being a firehouse back in the sixties. The pole was still there of course, dropping down from upstairs living quarters to the garage, which was converted into a bar, then converted into a strip club whore house combo, and finally converted into my home. This time I had paid cash though, through an anonymous source, which was just an alias front account of mine. It was nice to own something. It was also nice to always have a bit of cash, so I always had a little bit of work lined up, delivered by patsy to my doorstep of course. Tonight, such a patsy arrived.

The guy was maybe my height, a little bit taller, with slicked back brown hair and brown eyes. Quirkless, just like the local crime bosses liked in their patsies. Those guys would do anything for work because, in a world with quirks, if you don’t have one you can’t really find a job. So anyway, this monkey in a cheap monkey’s suit is knocking on my door at eleven thirty three at night. Lucky for him, I like the night, so I’m up and sliding down the fire pole to get to the front door. He looks at my skinny frame and frowns, his own body a bit more sizeable than my own, but doesn’t say anything. Smart. “Got some work for you from Mr. Galente. Here.” This idiot, just saying it out on the street like that? Well, might be safe, as this was the Galente Family territory and, fortunately enough, all the cops were in his pocket. Well…most of them anyway. I snatched the paper from the simp’s hand and opened it, it was pretty simple work, even if it was human trafficking. Pick up this girl and bring her here. She’ll be at Mission Beach tomorrow night with a few friends. The simp handed me a photograph of the girl as well, pretty cute and around my age. Nice.

“How much am I getting for this,” I ask the guy, knowing that he had that information, since this is how it always went. This was my fifth time doing a task for Galente, bringing in men and women, or acquiring little knickknacks for him, so I knew the drill. “Boss says five hundred thousand,” the simp’s voice was pretty deep, decent bass, and well-articulated. Probably educated. I was blinded by the money and didn’t even think about it one bit, because that is some life changing money right there. Almost immediately I agreed, wrote yes on the back of the paper, and handed it back to the guy. I kept the photo, so I knew who I was going to be looking for, then closed the door in that monkey’s face. Instead of walking upstairs, I headed over to the bar and poured myself a drink, a coke. I wasn’t about to consume any alcohol right now, since I needed to stay sharp and a hangover tomorrow night would probably ruin everything. Two ice cubes and a few sips later I had her face memorized, so I began plotting.

This chick might have a quirk, maybe one that would really fuck me up, so I gotta go in prepared. If I strike hard and fast, I might be able to incapacitate her, then handle her friends, and finally scoop her up and bring her in to her new life of horror. Not my problem. I rattled the ice cubes in the glass tumbler, as if I was sipping whiskey, wondering where I was taking her to. I had seen it on the paper though, straight to Mr. Galente’s house this time, which was never the drop point at all. It was usually in cardboard city over on the East Side, right there in the homeless community, because they never said a word if you gave them enough money. This girl was cute, but she wasn’t –that cute, at least not to me. Fuck it, what do I care, right? I’m just in it for the money. Downing the rest of my coke in a final gulp, I chewed on one of the ice cubes as I headed back upstairs, dropping my pants and hopping into bed. Tomorrow night was going to be eventful.

That next night I hopped out of the Uber and thanked the girl who drove, slipping on my backpack and making sure my white button up short sleeve looked nice, because I wanted the girl to at least think I was cute. I have self-esteem as well. Anyway, the pat pat of my converse sneakers on street and then concrete soon turned into the crunch of sand as I stepped onto Mission Beach, checking my watch to make sure I wasn’t early; women always ran late. Ten forty-two. Good, at least they’ll be here somewhere, so my eyes scanned up and down the beach, until finally I spotted them some distance away, the orange glow of a beach fire easily making out five shapes; only one was male in appearance. Even easier. Wait…what’s that? A bit in the darkness were two other figures, bigger, definitely adults and they were moving in. Just what the fuck? They trying to take my paycheck? I don’t think so. I began jogging toward the group myself, allowing the Kinetic Ignition to pull in some energy, because it looked like I was going to need it. One of those dudes had some bright red glowing eyes and flames flickering in and out of existence. The other had a tail. They weren’t friendly.

By the time I got there, they had already beaten down the boy and snatched up two of the girls, the third lay unconscious in the sand and my target was making a run for it, Fire Eyes right on her tail. Her quirk was either garbage or she didn’t have one. I broke into a full sprint and my body glowed fiercely, white violet flames wafting behind me, my eyes a brilliant violet as I streaked across the sand. I stole Fire Eyes’ momentum from only his right leg and he stumbled, falling to the floor in a heap of sand and a shitty suit. As he was getting up, my fist cracked across his face, and the fire in his eyes died out. He wouldn’t be down for long. The second dude tackled me hard and I lost my breath, a bit of Kinetic steam escaping my lips as my momentum was rocked, but this guy messed up by rolling. I stole that momentum and he barely flopped over, forced to recover as I rolled over and dove toward him. Had to hit him twice, since I didn’t have the full force of my momentum, two knees to the jaw that released brilliant white violet explosion with each hit. How’d my burst feel, bitch?

Getting to my feet, I looked over at the girl and saw that she was clearly shaken up, her blond hair a mess and her green eyes wild. Okay, she was damn beautiful, standing at five foot nine, at least a D cup, and very lightly tanned. In just jeans and a Mt. Lady T-shirt, she was stunning. Perfect opportunity to play the hero and get in close. “Damn. You okay? Just what is happening? Oh…I’m Kyu by the way.” Her voice was angelic, not too deep and not too high pitched, that happy medium where you could actually listen to it, even if she said hella way too much. At least she was used to seeing Asians…and quirks. Her name was Gretchen Dalton, a gross name for sure for such a stunning woman, and that last name really did sound familiar. However, the adrenaline was pumping, and I wasn’t thinking straight, or perhaps too narrowly, as I just cared about the money. She got close like an idiot to give me a hug and I blasted her right in the stomach, a burst of violet white energy exploding from her back, and she was down for the count. I moved and let her fall to the floor, where her body’s natural reaction was the vomit what she had just eaten, which were s’mores apparently. Then I picked her up, wiping her face in the sand first, and then carted her back up the beach.

Once in the parking lot, I rummaged around in her pockets for her keys, which was pretty fortunate that she didn’t leave them with her purse, because then I’d have to walk all the way back down there. Screw that. A click of the lock button lit her car up, a little Altima, so I stuffed her in the trunk after tying her with the rope that was in my backpack. The car ran so smoothly, the startup barely noticeable and I sat there like an idiot for a few seconds wondering if it had even come on, then shrugging and trying the gas, only to find that it was definitely on. Finally, after about a hour or so of driving, I pulled up at the mansion of Mr. Giovanni Galente, East Side crime boss of San Diego, with a few claims in some other places. Galente was mostly in to the gambling business himself, along with prostitution of course, as those go hand in hand. He’d been at it for as long as anyone could remember really, his quirk giving him a very extended lifespan. People speculated he was one of the original Mafia bosses gone underground, make it look like he died off, only to resurface as Giovanni Galente in California and take over a sizeable chunk of town. Guess being old means you have a few moves in the old noodle.

Must mean you eventually get rich too. This place was enormous! I’m talking about way too big! How do you even be a crime boss and have such a beacon of a home? The gate to the mansion was nearly a mile away with a speaker box next to it, the kind you had to push the botton and get someone to answer, while a few big dudes patrolled the walls like it was some kind of fortress. A mechanical voice answered over the speaker, asking who it was, so I let them know that I was here on business for Mr. Galente and I had his package for drop off. The gate didn’t even make a sound as it opened, no creaking, not strain, just a perfect well-oiled machine. It was a little annoying that it was so impressive. The road up to the house was paved, literally having to drive a mile over the well-kept grounds just to get up to the house. The grass was short and very green, the bushes were trimmed up neat and even a few had animal shapes, there were even fountains! Who the hell has fountains?!

It was a little passed midnight when I stepped out of the car and popped the trunk, Gretchen in the back sobbing violently, tied and gagged as she was; I’d had to gag her cause she kept screaming back there. She was watching me with those tear-filled green eyes of hers, hoping this was some joke, but money is never a joke, sister. I patted her on the head twice, then pulled her out of the car, with only minimal struggle. With her draped over my shoulder, I stepped up to the two big burly bodyguards wearing those cheap suits. They looked awfully familiar. No matter, they let me into the house and one lead me to where I needed to go. Upstairs into the business room, a large room near the center o the house with a huge desk and several plush chairs. Everything inside was tile on the first floor and second floor, but all the rooms were carpeted with dark red carpet, probably to hide the blood stains. Pictures of old family members hung on the wall, as well as new ones, plus no lack of lighting or gold. This guy really liked to throw his money around. I placed the girl right on his desk.

“Alright, so here she is,” I began, then a man turned around in the chair and I got a good look at Mr. Giovanni. The guy was rock solid, literally, he was made of rock. Guess his nickname of Gio was actually Geo, who knew? Still had hair and a beard, neatly trimmed, completely black and his hair was slicked in a way that wasn’t as tacky as his crew. Special tailored clothing, very nice looking, covered his completely rock frame and I wondered if anyone made the joke about him being rock hard in the bedroom. They probably didn’t live to tell the tale. This guy was also massive, at least eight feet tall, and definitely over a ton or two. Hell, his chair was completely steel, and I’d bet money there were others around the house just like it specifically for him. His voice was like gravel when he spoke too. “Good work,” Mr. Giovanni said, using one enormous rock finger to brush hair out of the girl’s face, then with a look on of his goons untied and ungagged her. She asked what they wanted, and Mr. Giovanni said it wasn’t personal, but had to do with her father encroaching on his territory. So, this was some gang war business? Damnit, if it gets out that it was me that delivered her, I was going to be in some trouble. “Money please.” A stack of cash was almost thrown at me, which I pocketed, as there was no sense leaving it behind even if this didn’t sit well with me. They told me I could go now, so I did, getting up and leaving the girl to her fate. Soon enough there would be screaming and I didn’t want any part of that.

As I was leaving Chateau de la Galente, I saw a few fellas I had not been expecting to step in, and they had not been expecting to see me either, but luckily, they never got a good look at me. The two guys from the beach had stumbled in, so it was in my best interest to get out of there before they saw the girl, then possibly put two and two together. I hopped in her Altima, driving back out the gate and away from whatever was about to happen to her. Cruising back to my residence, I kept thinking about that girl, purely in a sexual fashion. I didn’t know her enough to really care. Then my world was upside down…then right side up…then upside…oh, I’m rolling over. Somehow, I managed to get out of my seatbelt and kick the door of the car open, only to find several guys in T-shirts standing over me, one of them with a fist that glowed menacingly. Then I was asleep. Ugh. Just who the heck were these guys anyway? They weren’t dressed like Galente’s thugs, so it probably wasn’t them, unless they had suddenly learned how to wear disguises. Unlikely. Damn, my head is pounding. Where are they taking me anyway? I made the mistake of shuffling and out I went again, stars exploding before my very eyes, or in my head…I couldn’t tell anymore. Sweet unconsciousness took me.