The Collector

Kobra could hear noise. The sound of chatter, slowly ebbed and flowed beyond the doors to the space housing the Killjoy exhibition. Standing and straining to hear individual voices amidst the jumble of sounds, Kobra found himself even pausing his own breathing to minimise noise interference to his concentration. He frowned thoughtfully as he considered how he could improve his chances of catching even a few words. Finally settling on pressing an ear against the Perspex wall, Kobra focussed as the noise once again swelled near the doors.

“… a new…”
“… what it… exciting…”
“… history… post-war…”
“… culture…”
“… iconic, it says… could mean? …”

Kobra stepped back suddenly understanding. There were people beyond the door, discussing whatever this new exhibition was that was sealed off to the public. Biting his lip, he stepped back and considered his possible options. He had no idea who these people were. There were several options that came to mind immediately – it could be the general public viewing the museum, invited guests, investors were a possibility too. She seemed wealthy from the way she presented herself, but did that necessarily mean that she was? Wealth was a relative term anyway. To someone like Kobra, anyone who had sufficient disposable income to eat regularly could be categorised as wealthy. This woman however had the means to track and capture him and clearly believed that she could do the same with all of them. She had more than wealth, she had power.

There was one thing that confused him, however, and that was how she could possibly place them in a museum without drawing attention from the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit?Was it even possible that she had negotiated a deal with them? The manager of the unit, Katsumi Miharu, was ruthless in her quest for whatever would serve BLI for the best. Whilst not cold-blooded in the same way as the Exterminators were, she was more than capable of finding ways to achieve her aims. One of those aims was to neutralise the Killjoys. Could she possibly have lost faith in her team of Exterminators?It seemed unlikely, but Kobra couldn’t rule out the possibility. But if this exhibition were to be opened to the public in any capacity, surely it wouldn’t be long until Korse discovered it? He would want to take or kill them. Would he be overruled by her? Would the woman allow her exhibition to be closed? Who would win that particular battle?

Stepping back from the transparent wall, Kobra frowned at the choice he had considered. Was it better to remain at the museum or to hope that Korse found them?Neither seemed an improvement on the other. The comparative luxury of the private living space with its hot and cold running water did appeal to him more than whichever of the four acceptable levels of death that BLI chose to inflict. But it was still a prison and intolerable on any level.

Finally, the voices faded and the room once more fell into silence. He had vaguely considered shouting for help, but something had stopped him. It seemed likely that whoever was outside would either be indifferent to his situation or worse, they would enjoy it.
Kobra’s head snapped up and he was pulled from his reverie as the double doors flew open with a sudden burst. A tall, muscular man stepped into the room dressed smartly in a dark suit with his hair slicked back so flat and with so much product, it was actually difficult to see what colour it was.Initially beside him the woman who had brought him here walked at a slower pace so that she was only half way across the room by the time the man reached the cells.

Almost unaware of these details, Kobra’s eyes were wide and fixed on the body draped over the man’s left shoulder. As he approached, he could only see the legs and occasionally a hand as it swung outwards as the man strode purposefully into the room. It felt to Kobra as if his heart had sunk to the pit of his stomach before bouncing back to lodge in his throat. He couldn’t speak as he tried desperately to convince himself that he hadn’t recognised the unconscious man. At least – he hoped he was just unconscious.

Stepping up to the Perspex once more and pressing his palms against it in disbelief, his fears were realised when the man swiped a key card in a slot and opened the door to the adjoining cell emblazoned in green with the words Fun Ghoul. He took a deep breath as he watched the man swing the unconscious form of his friend from his shoulder and deposit him without care onto the floor of the cell. Turning without even acknowledging the alarm in the eyes of the other prisoner, the man turned and locked the cell door, silently handing the key card to the woman.

“Thank you,” she smiled as the took the card and, opening a small folder, placed it inside.
“Hey!” Kobra yelled, only now, after checking for a rise and fall of his abdomen, did he notice the painful looking welts and raw red marks around Ghoul’s wrists and neck. “What the fuck did you do to him?”
“Anything I can do for you, ma’am?” the man asked politely, ignoring Kobra’s shout.
“No, thank you, everything seems in order.”
Kobra slammed both palms on the Perspex, infuriated at being treated as if he wasn’t there.
“Very well, I’ll return to the convention room. I’ll make sure your guests are catered for.”
“Hey, bitch!” Kobra screamed. “What did you do to him?”
“Would you like me to restrain him, ma’am?” the man asked, once more only acknowledging him indirectly.
“No,” Evelyn laughed lightly, as she raised a small remote device. “I think I can handle him.”
“Of course,” he laughed unpleasantly.
“But wait a moment, I’ll come with you,” she replied. “I mustn’t neglect my guests.”
“What do you…”

Kobra couldn’t finish his sentence. He couldn’t even concentrate on the words he had intended to say. At the press of a button on the small remote Evelyn watched dispassionately as Kobra slid down the Perspex to his knees. Leaning forward he gasped for breath clutching the back of his neck.

The pain emanated from somewhere near where his neck met the base of his skull. A sensation of excruciating, stabbing pain bouncing up and down his spine. It was as if he was a pinball machine, with the pain crashing from one buffer to another before being flipped back up to the top to begin all over again. If there was any noise over and above the laughter from both the man and the woman, then he was unaware. At the turn of a small dial, the pain swamped him as it began to spread beyond his spine into his arms, legs and chest.

Snatching at breaths now, he fell to the floor, unable to support himself any longer.Writhing in agony, he heard screaming, gasping as he realised it was his own voice. He no longer seemed attached to his own body, but it seemed that something was preventing him from passing out. He didn’t know if it was his own strength or something she was doing but all he knew now was unparalleled agony and exhaustion as he was overcome by wave after wave of stinging, gripping and almost burning sensations as each of his nerves felt as though they were unravelling inside his body, frayed and sparking like a live electric cable flailing and uncontrolled.

“Please,” he whispered, managing to force the single word out through his tightly clenched jaw.

Evelyn pressed a switch on the remote and watched coldly as Kobra sank to the floor, gasping, unaware of the tears of agony and relief slipping involuntarily down his cheeks.

“Don’t cross me, Kobra,” she walked to the cell and spoke calmly, slipping the remote into her purse. “You have no sway with me and I have no problem keeping you in line any way I see fit. I doubt you’ll be able to, but don’t forget the governor I’ve had implanted in your neck. I can inflict any amount of pain from annoying ache to fatal. Remember that next time to go to cross me.”

Not even caring whether he had understood or even heard her, she turned and followed Sorby out of the room and headed back to her guests.

*

Seated at one of the booths, Party, Jet, Red, Pony and Death were sharing what little they could pull together for a meagre breakfast. Party’s head was sunk, cradled deep in his right palm, his elbow propped on the table as he listened to Jet explain the events of the previous night and how Red had come to accompany him back to the diner.

“Let me see if I’ve got this right?” Party sighed. “You see an explosion, then you find Kobra’s missing and this girl…”
“Woman.”

Party turned indifferent eyes towards Red.

“This girl camped out in the car waiting for you?”
“I was not waiting!” Red cried indignantly.
“What then?” Party asked in a slightly accusatory tone.
“Sleeping!” she snapped back.
“Huh! Then deciding you can’t trust her, you brought her back here and then gave her a gun? Did you miss out the part where you lost your fucking mind, Jet?” Party’s voice grew in intensity until by the end he was yelling.
“If it wasn’t for Red, we all might have been dead right about now!” Jet snapped in response. “I couldn’t have taken all of them.”
“You didn’t!” Party pointed over to the counter to where the man he had shot had lain earlier.

Jet glowered, angry and frustrated yet more than a little surprised that he was actually defending her. In many respects, Party was absolutely right, but somehow he knew that he trusted her and that was right too.

At that moment the radio crackled to life and Jet rose, still glaring at Party.

“Probably Ghoul,” he muttered.
“Jet!” the voice cried over the radio, the voice sounded panicked.
“Candi?” Jet answered quickly, concerned by the tone of her voice. “Where are you?What’s wrong?”
“Signal Station, I needed a long range. Jet, Ghoul’s been taken!”
“What!” Jet’s eyes widened in horror. “What happened? When?”
“He came to pick up the meds and we were crashed by a squad of Crows. I don’t know how but they knew he was here! They’ve taken him to Bat City. Jet, they’ve got him! BLI have got him!”
“W-wait,” Jet shook his head in confusion. “They only took Ghoul? Not you?”
“Well, they would have had he got here! They picked him off the street. They knew he was here.”
“But you said ‘we’ – ‘we were crashed’,” Jet frowned, unhappy with the explanation.
“I didn’t mean it that literally!” she replied with an exasperated tone. “Look, someone tipped them off, they must have. Someone must have known!”
“Any idea where?” Jet asked, desperate for any information.
“BLI Headquarters probably,” Candi suggested. “They didn’t exactly leave a forwarding address. Look, I’ll find out everything I can and get back to you.”
“Thanks, we’ll do the same.” Jet signed off before slamming a fist down on the counter.“How did they know?”
“Why don’t you ask your new friend, Jet?” Party snapped glaring at Red, his expression demanding answers. “I don’t believe in coincidence but I do believe in BLI Spies!”
“I’m no spy!” she yelled with a mixture of surprise and outrage.

Jumping to her feet, Red gasped in shock as Party snatched at her wrist and, despite his ill health, held her firmly, even painfully.

“Where’s Ghoul?” he growled.

Notes