From: gizmo@freenet.hut.fi (Terence Wilson)
Subject: A piece of story, my first, no name...
Date: 6 Apr 1994 20:05:00 GMT


   Hello folks, this is my first post on this area. I've gotten the
picture that one can post his cyperpunk(ish) stories here. Well here's
one of mine. Actually it's not finished yet, it don't even have a name and
I'm only posting the first two chapters. The truth is, I wanna find out if
my writing is worth anything (don't we all?). So, feedback is appreciated.
Flame me if I deserve it :-) Actually this one was made real fast (I know
I can do better :-), but if you people find something positive in it,
I might even finish the story... Oh yeah, despite my name, english is NOT
my native tongue so bear with the spelling mistakes (or better yet, tell me
about them). Thanx.

---

CHAPTER ONE


  I was still laying on my bed when Jackson arrived.
  "Hey dev! Rise and shine dude, I got somethin sweet for 'ya!"
  He suprised me in my purple underwear and I wasn't happy about it. I
wished I'd never shown him how to open that lock on the door with that
special kind of a jerk. I told him to fuck off, but he was being pretty
persistant. Very rare of Jackson, actually. Usually he had trouble even
remembering which way you turn a screw.
  "Dev man, just listen to me for a sec. This's a hot one, I mean
burning! All you gotta do is tag along. Instant five thousand. Whaddaya
say?"
  I had known Jackson for 15 years and during that time he had offered
me hundreds of his "hot ones." They usually ended up with someone beeing
shot or hospitalized. Usually me. I told Jackson how I felt.
  "Chill man, chill! This one's different, I promise. You just hang
around and enjoy the ride. That's all. Listen man, I can't do this thing
without you, and I know you need the money."
  I got up and headed for the bathroom shaking my head.

  When Dev got out of the bathroom Jackson was lying on the bed,
humming some old song from Chromeblade. He looked up, smiling. "You did
the right thing, Dev."
  "Oh yeah? I know seeing is believing, but I wanna _feel_ the cash
before I belive you. Oh, and for your sake, I really hope you got some
decent wheels."
  "Have I ever let you down on that department," said Jackson with an
ugly grin.
  "Don't even remind me. Just get down to the street and get the thing
started, I gotta get something first."
  Dev turned away and walked in the kitchen. He could hear the door
slam as Jackson left the appartment. Dev opened the refridgerator. The
little .38 was still where he'd left it. Next to the molden cheddar,
behind the big mug with "Honolulu" on the side of it. The tanned girl on
the mug stared at him when he pulled out the revolver. Dev closed the
refridgerator door and checked the gun. Four rounds.
  "Yippee yei yee..."

  "Just hear it purr. I got it for a real bargain," Jackson said
smiling. He looked real proud of himself.
  "I bet. Where's the handbreak?"
  "Right there, but I wouldn't worry about it."
  "Why's that?"
  "It don't work."
  "It don't work? First you get me a car with a stick and then you tell
me that the handbreak don't work. What's the matter with you man?"
  "Like I said, don't worry about it. We won't be needing no hand
break." Jackson took a pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his
hawaiian shirt.
  Dev put on his shades, grabbed the wheel and said with a grin,
"whatever you say, boss." He stepped on the gas and the old Mazda/Ford
started lazyly rolling down the street.
  "Jeesus, Jackson. If this is the best get-a-way car you could find,
were in deep shit, you know that."
  "Don't worry about a thing, man," Jackson said, sucking peacefully on
the cheap cigarette.
  "I just hope you know what you're doing." Dev skanned the street, but
no one was in sight. "Where're we going anyway?"
  "I don't care, some place dangerous."
  "What? You serious? Man, I think you oughta brief me on this whole
thing."
  "Simple, we just gotta destroy this car." Jackson flicked the butt in
the rain. It was still dark outside.
  "This car? The one I'm driving at the moment? Why the fuck?"
  "Don't ask me. The dude just gave the car and told me to get rid of
it. For good." Jackson opened the glove compartment and peeked inside, but
found nothing of interest inside.
  "The dude? Gave you this car? I thought you bought it?"
  "I only said I got it for a real bargain. The man gave me cash _and_
the car." Jackson started giggling in his own irritating way.
  "Oh great. Just one thing, why am _I_ here? You can't get rid of one
lousy car on your own?"
  "Well, to tell you the truth, I thought I'd pay you back for all the
bad biz I've gotten you into in these past years. Think of it as a gift."
  "Of how sweet, you're breaking my heart man." Dev curved into a
narrow alley that was completely covered with litter. The alley was
lighted by a lonely, red neon light high above. "After you offered me five
thousand I thought this would be something serious. Even took my gun
along. Guess I won't be needing it after all."
  Bang. Dev could feel his friends brains on the side of his face.



CHAPTER TWO


  I've got very few friends. Jackson's one of them, or actually was one
of them. I don't like it when people shoot my friends. Maybe it's because
so many of them have allready been shot. And that's definitely a signifi
cant reason why I've only got so few friends.
  The car was woth some big bucks, that much I gathered. I mean,
definetly worth more than five grand or whatever Jackson was getting.
Based on the five bikers that were on my tail, a lot more. I had the
gaspedal on the floor, praying to reach at least 60. The razors had no
such problems.
  I figured my only chance was to reach Zack's place in time. Zack was
one of the better off fixers in town. Partly because of his cunning,
partly because corp support. Zack was a friend, but how good of a one? I
grabbed the cellular from my leather jacket's pocket.

  "Zack. What's your biz?" The voice was a little distorted and muf
fled.
  "Zack, it's Dev. I need some serious help here. Five gos on my tail,
need a place to rest." Dev curved and got to a sidestreet, just a couple
of blocks from Zack's.
  "You got that five hundred you owe me?"
  "Man, don't start with that now! I need that door open when I'm
coming. If not, I'll just have to come through it." Dev could see Zack's
warehouse behind a small gas station. The razor boys were allmost next to
him. From his side mirror he could see a glimpse of a dude dressed in red
leather, holding a SMG.
  "You know you can't come through armor plating, man."
  "Then have it open, goddamit! Listen, they wasted Jackson!" Dev took
a short-cut through the gas station's parking lot and got a little distan
ce between him and the bikers. He could now see the big door to Zack's
warehouse at the end of the street. "I'm coming in." There was nothing
else he could do, he'd done all he could.
  For a moment Dev thought that the door would never open, but when it
did, just in time, he hit the brakes with all his might. With any luck he
wouldn't crash in the warehouse's backwall. The closing mass of bricks
reminded him of a chase scene in some ancient movie.

  "It's a good thing I had those hi-watts installed last month. Those
bikers sure didn't like to be in the spotlight." Zack wrapped the small
towel around the ice he had in his other hand. "Here, this oughta help."
  "Thanks man, you're ok." Dev held the towel on his bruised forehead.
"What about Jackson?"
  "Pac took care of him. If you would have crashed in that wall any
faster you'd be joining him. Now what's this thing all about?"
  Dev leaned back in the armchair and looked around him. Not much had
changed since his last visit. The weird cuckoo clock was still in place,
hanging on the grey, painted wall. The paint was chipping, but Zack never
seemed to care. His careless attitude was reflected from everything in the
room. There were glasses, paper and pieces of styrofoam everywhere. Dev
could see through the big windows down to the hall. It was unusually
empty, just some junk metal, a fork truck and the car. Dev kept staring at
the old and battered car.
  "Hey, I'm talking to you! I wanna know what's up, you owe me that
much." Zack stepped in front of Dev's view.
  Dev snapped out of it and looked back at Zack. "I don't really know
myself. First Jackson got that car down there..."
  "That piece of shit. I wouldn't take it if you paid me."
  "Too bad Jackson didn't share your oppinion," said Dev sighing.
  "Yeah, too bad. And then?" To Dev Zack looked like a kid waiting to
hear he could go to Disneyland afterall.
  "Well..." Dev thought for a second. "I guess Jackson had gotten into
some trouble. We were just cruising when they started firing. I wish I
knew." Dev could see the dissapointment on Zack's face.
  "I guess it's nothing serious then. Oh, and here's the key to your
'car.'" Zack threw the key to Dev and headed down the steel steps.
  Dev looked at the key. It had a keychain on it and a blue, fat,
plastic elephant. The kind you find in imported easter eggs.

--
ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ
ö  Terence Wilson                Ö  /Ö  /Ö  /Ö  /Ö  /Ö  /Ö  /  ö
ö  E-Mail: gizmo@freenet.hut.fi   Ö/  Ö/  Ö/  Ö/  Ö/  Ö/  Ö/   ö
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