Merrick led them to the edge of Lowtown, where their target awaited: a dilapidated nightclub called The Carnation Cougar. Jacob shot Lance a questioning glance.
"It used to be called something else," Lance explained. "But a copyright lawsuit forced a name change. It eventually shut down."
"Doesn't look shut down now," Nina observed, gesturing to the vehicles parked out front and the many more arriving.
They ducked behind a bus bench to observe. Finely dressed men in fedoras emerged from the cars, followed by a trio of women in red. Their leader smoked a cigarette in a dragon-shaped holder. Behind them lumbered a surly group that, even from this distance, reeked of brine and dead fish. Taking up the rear was a mountain of a man, gold chains draped around his neck and snake tattoos coiling around his massive arms.
Lance gave a low whistle. "The Bills, the Bloody Sirens, the Dock Boys, and Andy 'the Snake' Coska. It's a veritable who's-who of Grummsdale's underbelly. These guys practically run Lowtown, real nasty types. But Andy's the worst. They say he got the nickname because he likes to squeeze the life out of people, like an anaconda."
Jacob's hand instinctively went to his neck. He swallowed hard. "Merrick, are you sure this Vinnie guy is in there?"
"Sure as Nina's hips are fake."
"Hey!"
"Alright, boy. In you go. Get him."
Jacob recoiled. "Are you out of your mind? There's no way I'm going in there! I've already been shot at, chased, and nearly blown up. I'd rather not add asphyxiation and beheading to the resume, thanks!"
"Oh, come now, you'll be fine," Merrick assured him. "With that armor, you're all but invincible. What could those thugs and lowlifes possibly do to the indomitable Midknight?"
Jacob scowled, pointing a finger at his own head.
"Still on about that helmet, eh?" Merrick scoffed. "Blame the woman. She had shoddy materials."
"Oh, don't you even go there!" Nina snapped, stepping forward. "I told you the design didn't need a cape, but no! You just had to go for the dramatic flair!"
"I had to put the shield somewhere!" Merrick retorted, throwing his hands up defensively. "Besides, he looks rather dashing in that. The ladies will be flocking to him."
"I'm sure I'll appreciate that—at my funeral!" Jacob spat, the words laced with bitter sarcasm.
"You're being too dramatic," Merrick said, waving a dismissive hand. "I swear, your father wasn't this much of a baby about things."
"He didn't really have time to be, with you constantly pushing him into things!" Nina exploded. "Now you're doing it with his son. We made a pact, Merrick!"
"Oh, because everything is my fault," Merrick retorted, feigning a wounded expression. "Says the matron of the worm that ruined the tree."
Jacob braced himself as Nina twisted her neck with a pop.
"I warn you! Speak ill of my baby boy again, and you're going to regret it!" Nina's voice rose.
The air crackled as the insults flew, each one faster than the last: "Homewrecker!" "Seed sower!" "False hips!" "FAKE BEARD!"
Jacob could only take a step back as the verbal barbs continued, the two of them seemingly forgetting his presence entirely. A familiar, slightly depressing sense of being overlooked settled over him. He redirected his attention to Lance, who was already rummaging in his small satchel.
Lance produced a tiny device, no larger than a golf ball, alongside what looked like a cellphone crudely cobbled together with a TV remote and a game controller. He set the ball down, pressing a button on the makeshift phone. A miniature antenna extended from the sphere, which then popped open to reveal a propeller. It hummed to life, lifting off the ground, and a small, eye-like lens swiveled forward. It was a drone.
"Where the heck did you get that?" Jacob asked, surprised.
"Made it," Lance replied, his tone as nonchalant as ever.
Lance pressed the sticks on his controller, and the drone zipped forward. On the phone screen, they could see its perspective, allowing them to follow discreetly behind Andy Coska and into the club.
Inside, the rundown interior somehow enhanced the ambiance. Peeling wallpaper and dead light fixtures gave the main room a dark, lived-in feel. Tables with folding chairs were scattered across the floor, and a DJ spun slow jazz from the back wall. The bar was already lined with the Dock Boys, their tender serving beers. The Bills chatted at various tables, but Lance kept his distance, prioritizing stealth. Only Andy remained standing, appearing tense and irritable, constantly checking his watch as if desperate to be anywhere but here.
"Doesn't look like any party I've ever seen," Lance mused, "but something's definitely up. These guys hate each other, and I mean pure hate. Andy, for instance, holds a grudge against Miss Velvet — the woman in red with the cigarettes — ever since their messy breakup tanked a business deal he'd been working on. The Dock Boys, meanwhile, despise Andy after he killed one of theirs in an arm-wrestling match just last month. And to be clear, he genuinely killed the guy. Ripped his arm clean off."
Jacob gulped.
"The Bills are different," Lance continued. "They're men of opportunity, loyal to no one but themselves. That guy with the feather in his cap, that's Ledger. They call him that because his mind is a ledger of numbers – he knows every protection scheme victim's debt, how many days they have left to pay, and precisely how many bones to break to make them cough it up."
"How charming," Jacob muttered dryly. "So, them all being here is a big deal."
"The biggest deal," Lance affirmed, nodding. "These are the dukes and duchesses of Lowtown's crime, the very reason it's become so rotten. Whatever brought them together must be critically important."
Just then, there came the sound of a tingling glass. The assembly looked up as Vinnie the Skinny tapping a fork against a wine glass as wine was being poured for the guests. Once all eyes were on him, Vinnie cleared his throat.
"Ladies and gents, lend me your ears so that I may converse with you thusly. It is my greatest of prides and pleasures to be having your presences here in this most ostensious of occasions."
Jacob made a face. "Does he think that makes him sound smart? He sounds like he ate a thesaurus."
"Shhhh!" Lance hissed, trying to listen.
"For years now," Vinnie went on, "you have all staked your claim to the various streets and avenues of the propertious factions that is Lowtwon Grummsdale. You are men of action, ladies of vices, curmudgeons of crime, and all around you have always..."
Vinnie suddenly had to duck as a wine bottle went for his head, and Andy was already primed to throw another.
"Get to the point!" he thundered angrily, his gold chains rattling around his neck. "I got a million things I should actually be doing rather than hearing you jaw."
Vinnie rose up very slowly, and he tugged at his collar as he tried to regain his nerve.
"Yes, well, that's quite a good point, Mr. Coska. Alright. As you mugs know, I am a proud and humble constituent of the one and only Slumlord, the truest crime lord what ever lorded over crime."
Jacob could hear Andy's neck popping.
"For the last few years, his Slummliness has been periodically buying up various properties to expand his empire and grow his revenue. Perhaps you are aware of a few of his owned ser-vices here in Lowtown, such as this be-u-tiful little parlor in which we sit."
This brought up a look from Velvet, who blew ring of smoke from her cigarette.
"I have noticed a distinct lack of real estate," her voice rasped due to her habit. "It's hard to find good plots to set up shop anymore, and my girls need a roof over their heads."
"There's also been a thirteen percent spike in rent within the local apartments," Ledger mused. "It's been making business not quite as ripe as previous. Though local land grabs have been named under multiple parties. Are we to assume these are all under one man?"
"Astutual as ever, Mr. Ledger," Vinnie grinned. "Yes, the Slumlord lives up to his name, and it is by his will you have all found purchase. However, it saddens him deeply that not all the little kiddies want to play in the same sandbox and get along. All of the constant fighting and killing of one another's men has led to to you being rooterated into the only one spot that is this Lowtown, when clearly it is nowhere near enough space or money to be made. And so I have come to you this fine evening with the answer to your prayers. Yes, brothers and sisters, salvation has come to you in the form of the banner of the Slumlord. Rally to him, and you shall have everything you have ever and will ever desire."
"Is that so?" Velvet asked, her eyes narrowing like a snake's. "That's quite the boast, as I desire all things. Wealth, fame, people: I'm really not choosy."
"You'll get it," Vinny assured. "The boss has been setting this all up for a good twenty years now. I ain't seen what's behind the curtain, but Mr. Wizard has been busy."
"Wizard?" a drunken dock boy bellowed. "I thought it was the Slumlord what was doing all this."
"Shut up, Ozzie!" the larger, more bearded of the bunch barked. He turned to Vinny. "Tis a bold declaration from a man with no face. Many of my lads don't even believe this Slumlord of yers exists, and I be in that number."
"That is being the truth, Mr. Salts, sir," Vinny conceded. "But you gotta understand that the boss needs his anonomousity. Only the foolish go public with their affairs."
"I can confirm." Ledger mused. "Much of my own group's operations require some measure of being uncredited with our creditors. Even then, there's got to be some trail if only to keep our business running, and you say he's been working some sort of scheme which has net him multiple avenues, some of which are literal, in order to have a large enough revenue to entice us all to his side?"
"I have the numbers on file just for you, Mr. Ledger," Vinny said, offering a folder. "The boss really respects you boys as a fellow man of business. By all means, observe."
Ledger took the folder, flipping through the many pages housed within while humming a quiet symphony. When he was satisfied, he returned the folder before steepling his fingers.
"Your affairs seem...legitimate at a cursory glance," he said in a calm tone of voice. "You may consider myself and my associates intrigued."
"You have my curiosity at the very least," Velvet said. "My girls are rather obsessed with this Slumlord fellow, Rose here even got money from him once."
The mentioned girl slowly ducked her head, and Jacob couldn't help but notice that she seemed to be about his age. Far too young to be dressed like that and in such horrid company.
"That's the boss, for ya," Vinny went on. "Always looking out for the little guy."
"Ain't nothing small about us!" Salts thundered, brandishing a whaler's harpoon from his back. "I'm hearing a lot of big talk, but I only see a small man. A man, I recall, robbed me and my boys of a decent chunk of change a week ago, and other snow jobs across the years prior."
Vinny began to noticeably sweat, as well as slowly sidle towards the nearest entrance.
"Y-yes, well," he stammered," the Slumlord is aware of some, shall we say, disputes among the various houses of crime, but he has informulated me to ensure to youseself that all debts shall be annullated and thus..."
He bumped into something huge. And angry.
Not even Jacob and Lance had seen how such a large man like Andy could move, but like a ghost he materialized behind Vinny, glaring down on him like a hawk primed for the kill. Vinny spun about, his arms instinctively going to his neck as Andy bore down on him with popping knuckles.
"We don't know no Slumlod, Vinny, but we know you."
Andy's tone was straight murder. Once he had said his peace, he made no implication that he had any intention of letting the other man walk out of the room. No, he wanted to show him, and everyone else in the room who was really in charge, and the others were all too happy to spectate what had become rather casual among their circle.
"You've been getting kind of full of yourself, lately," Andy went on as Vinny backed into a chair and was forced to sit. "I remember when you were a snot nosed brat on the street corner shilling for pennies. I took you in, put you under my wing, and I nursed you to the position where you now stand. Then some new punk player shows up and you're suddenly all big in the saddle? Uh uh, I don't buy it. You know what I think? I think there is no Slumlord. I think it's you. I think you've got your hands on some real dough, but it's too big for you to handle. You're too stupid to actually get far on your own, so now you want us to do your heavy lifting for you. Well, allow me to start."
Quick like a cobra, Andy's arms lashed out, and suddenly Vinny's legs were dangling in mid air as Andy held him aloft by his throat. Vinny's face was turning purple as he frantically clawed at the big man's hands.
"I'm just the messenger!" he pleaded weakly. "You don't shoot the messenger! You don't shoot the messenger!"
"I ain't shooting you," Andy said bluntly. "I'm going to squeeze your throat till your head comes flying off like a cork bottle."
Back outside, Jacob and Lance continued to watch, though Lance was covering his eyes. Jacob, on the other hand, had other thoughts. The only possible lead he had to his uncle's disappearance was literally dying before his eyes. There was no time to think things over. he had to get in there and save the guy before it was too late. He took off at full speed, becoming a silver blur and finally getting the bickering light people's attention.
Nina gasped.
Merrick cheered.
Jacob only barely formed his shield from his cape as the side wall loomed before him. Be braced himself while still charging forward, and then he hit.
KABLAM!
Sheetrock, mortar and rebar went flying in the air as Jacob, like a runaway train, continued forward on his path and unable to stop. Honestly speaking, the fact he was directly lined up with Andy was impossible. Perhaps it was an odd stirring of luck or yet another secret figure guiding his body, but the end result was the same. He connected with Andy with the force of a wrecking ball, and he effortlessly bowled him over and forced him to let Vinny go. The gangster hit the ground, gasping for breath and clinging to his trachea as he tried to get life giving oxygen into his body. Jacob, dazed, slowly rolled over onto his belly as his cape returned to its place on his back. This would prove to be a bad move as something, or a very specific someone, grabbed it and lifted him into the air. Jacob was now looking eye to eye with Andy "The Snake" Coska, and the man was not happy in the slightest. Jacob gulped down hard, and he offered what he hoped was a charming smile.
"Hi there, gruesome."
He didn't get the chance to say much more as Andy, one handed, spun him around his head before launching him into the bar. The dock boys didn't so much as move as Jacob slammed against the hardwood with a crack. He was ultimately unharmed, and somehow the bar was unscathed. The same could not be said of the boys' beer mugs, all of which spilled onto the floor. Jacob felt eyes on him, and he looked up into their snarling faces.
"Guys, come on, don't be mad. That's such an old, tired cliche."
Salts didn't care as he snatched Jacob up, slammed him onto the bar, and he sent him sliding across the hardwood until he went flying off. Jacob went crashing once again, this time into the DJ's turn tables and putting an end to his set. As Jacob rose this time, the angry DJ had grabbed a crowbar and looked ready to bludgeon him. Jacob's golden eyes flared, and he flashed him a furious glare.
"Do it! I freaking dare you! Give me one reason!"
Unlike the others assembled, the DJ wasn't in the mood for bloodshed, and he gladly surrendered his weapon to Jacob. The others, on the other hand, were not so accommodating as the Dock Boys got to their feet, brandishing harpoons, chains, and one even had an anchor. The Bills and their associates likewise rose, a few turning over tables and bearing machine guns. Finally there was Velvet and her girls, all of whom took out their hairpins which doubled as barbed daggers. Andy was the only one unarmed, but with arms like his he didn't need anything. Jacob looked them all over one to the next, and he took a before narrowing his gaze.
"You know what, screw it! I've been running scared for three weeks, and I have had enough! You idiots wanna throw down, then fine! I need to blow off some steam, and you've all become my honorary punching bags!"
With that, he kicked off from the turntable, crowbar in hand. The force of the launch made the needle fall onto a still spinning record, and the jazz from before was replaced by a high octane rock track. Jacob made landfall at the Bills' makeshift fort of overturned tables, forming his shield and letting their bullets bounce off harmlessly before he went in swinging. He clipped three in one blow before head-butting a fourth. Two more tried to tackle him, but Jacob vanished in a blur as he allowed his newly discovered speed to manifest. He moved from one gangster to the next with lightning precision courtesy of his enhanced perception perfectly complimenting his movements. He took them down one by one until Ledger was the last Bill standing. He forsook his machine gun in favor of his pistol, taking more careful shots though all of them for nought. Jacob bashed him with his shield, nocking him into a table that shattered on impact.
As he fell, in came Velvet, moving in close and ducking through his defenses. She was a smarter fighter, ignoring Jacob's armor and going straight for his face and throat. Her sudden presence threw off Jacob's previous momentum, and she swiped with wild abandon. She managed to cut his face a few times before spinning in a kick and knocking Jacob onto his back. He girls dove for his arms, pinning them, before she straddled his chest. Rather than going for a quick kill, Velvet proceeded to slash at Jacob's face with her hairpins, cackling madly like an artist cursed with inspiration. Jacob worked to move his arms, only to feel a sharp pain as the girl on his left drove her own hair pins into the sides of his wrist where the chainmail was thinnest. However, the girl on his right, Rose, was a lot slower to act, hesitating even, which was all Jacob needed. Calling to his strength, he threw her off before slugging Velvet clean in the nose. The woman shrieked, not used to being hit, and it allowed Jacob to roll her into the other girl.
He was only barely on his feet again when a chain wrapped around him and pulled him back. He was soon on the floor once more, followed by a flurry of stomping feet as the Dock Boys had their turn with him. Though his armor absorbed the hits for the most part, Jacob was fervently guarding his face while trying to find his way out. His chance came when he spied one of them having a wooden leg. Allowing a brief opening where he got a boot in his face, Jacob snapped the leg with a solid punch, knocking the man over like a domino into his fellows. Jacob then grabbed Salt's beard for leverage to pull himself up before yanking the man down, getting him in a headlock, and then punching him solidly in the face and sending him back into the bar. He then grabbed his fallen harpoon and hurled it at the others, catching each one by the overalls and pinning them in a singular lump on the floor.
Jacob gasped for breath as a momentary calm filled the room. He wasn't exhausted in a physical sense, but his senses were on overdrive. Even outside, he had sensed the overwhelmingly murderous intent of the club's patrons, but now he was in the middle of it as well as on the receiving end. His every instinct was screaming at him to run and find a place to hide, but another part of him was just as fervently insisting that he fight. His emotions were finally bubbling all the way to the surface: his fear for his uncle, his confusion of his heritage, and, most of all, his outrage for this infernal city that wanted nothing more than to ruin his life if not outright kill him. When he could no longer contain it, he let out an ear spitting shriek towards the ceiling, and this would be his doom.
Once again, Andy had been quiet, observant even, and he slunk his way into Jacob's blindspot. As the boy proclaimed his rage, he rushed him from behind, scooping him up before raising him high overhead. Then, with a solid thump, he dropped Jacob hard against the floor. All of the air left his lungs in a sudden surge, and then Andy promptly pressed his foot against Jacob's throat to ensure nothing fresh could come back in.
He chuckled cruelly. "Not my usual method, but you can only wrap your arms around a guy's neck in so many ways. At least now I can watch the light leave your eyes as you beg for breath, or at least a quicker death."
Jacob scrambled, but his muscles refused to respond until he could take a proper breath. Andy's boot was heavy, his leg thick, and it was like Jacob had been all but bolted to the floor. Slowly, a red tint began to fill his eyes as he felt himself fading out of consciousness. His instincts to run and fight were all but screaming at him now, spurring him to do anything, but a third part of him awakened. It was over, it said, and there was no point in continuing. This was as good a place as any to just quietly surrender and accept whatever came next. It was an almost soothing sentiment, and slowly Jacob's eyes began to flutter shut as he succumbed to it.
Suddenly, there was a gunshot, and Andy screamed. Through the blurry haze and the blood rushing to his ears, Jacob could hear a woman's voice as well as saw three sharp blasts. A moment later, something was pressed to his lips, and he felt...
Air! Good, clean, life giving air!
Jacob's lungs surged back to life as he finally took a much needed breath, and his vision regained focus. There was Lance armed with an oxygen tank, and Jacob didn't even care that the boy somehow had that. His eyes darted to the side, and he could see the bartender now sporting dark hair in the place of a blonde wig. Andy staggered back, nursing a bloody arm and a vicious scowl as he glared daggers at the one and only detective Deborah Sackett.
"You dumb broad! I hope you said every prayer your mommy ever taught you, because I will be sending you to the pearly gates personally!"
Deborah fired another shot at his foot, making the man jump back.
"Big talk from a little man that picks on kids," she seethed. "Get out of here before I really get mad and forget that I'm a cop, because the next one will be right in the middle of your ugly face. Now beat it! Scram!"
Andy decided to take the hint, but he locked eyes with Jacob one last time.
"Sleep with one eye open, freak. By dawn tomorrow, there isn't gonna be a hole in this entire stinking city you can hide in. You are dead, you hear me?!"
With his piece said, the man ran out through the hole in the wall. When he was gone, Deborah turned her attention to Jacob. To her shock, she could see the scratches on his face glowing, and then slowly they began to recede. Howard had said something similar had happened when they first found him.
"Remarkable, eh?" came the voice of Merrick as he and Nina materialized. "The Light is truly an amazing thing. Even I don't know all of its capabilities, and I know..."
"Why are you here?" Deborah cut him off.
Merrick was stunned, and perhaps even a tiny bit terrified as he looked into her eyes.
"Uh..." he stammered. "Well, I found this certain rapscallion that might or might not have been involved with the disappearance of our Laramie, and..."
"You mean Vinny the Skinny," Deborah hissed, cutting him off again. "I had a similar hunch, and I'd been tailing him for days. This was to be my one chance to nab him, and you had Jacob bust through here like a bull in a china shop!"
"I did no such thing!" Merrick snapped, though the look on his face revealed only pride. "The boy did it himself when he saw the man was about to die."
"I wasn't going to let that happen!" Deborah retorted sharply. "Jacob, as well as Lance, shouldn't have been miles near here, and you brought them to the bleeding door step! What the blazes were you thinking? And you!"
It was Nina's turn to receive her ire.
"I thought you were the smart one! Not once did you think that, maybe, the fourteen year old boy shouldn't be fighting gangsters and murderers!"
"I didn't want this to happen!" Nina insisted. "I mean, Jacob wanted to find the man, anyhow, so I didn't see the harm..."
"THIS IS THE HARM, YOU IDIOT!" Deborah roared, pointing to Jacob's battered form. "I swear, if you two weren't ghosts, I'd send you to the afterlife myself!"
She took a step back, breathed in deeply, and then pinched her nose.
"Can Jacob even stand?"
Lance got in under Jacob's arm, and he slowly helped him rise. Jacob's legs supported his weight, but he was shaky and had to lean on Lance.
"Good. That's...something. My car is out back; I'll drive you back to Paradiso for now. Crimeny, all that time and preparation just down the drain, and The Snake saw me. If even a single CI was here..."
She fell silent and shook her head in disgust, opting rather to help Lance carry Jacob out. As for the boy himself, he looked to where Vinny had been. There wasn't even so much as a trace of him, which meant his one and only clue had slipped between his fingers. Jacob could only bow his head in shame as he was carried off with Nina and Merrick taking up the rear.