Black Market Merchant

Steel Fist and the others dashed into the bottom floor of the building that the Mad Dogs had escaped into just as the first wave of mortar shells engulfed the city street. Glass, dust, and rubble scattered in every direction causing further chaos. Now it was the Skulls turn to feel cornered.

Spitting some grime out of his mouth, Steel Fist shouted across the street at Back Blade. “Get yourselves up the floors and take out as many as you can! We need to get out of here before they try bring down the buildings on top of us.”

Back Blade gave a thumbs up and was about to reply when the second wave of mortars riddled the side and top of the building Stitches and the rest of the Skull, were using to shoot at the Mad Dogs from. Both Steel Fist and Back Blade covered themselves with their shields and retreated into the lowest floors as the explosions ensued. Behind them rained chunks of concrete, twisted rebar, lethal metal shards, and glass came crashing down in heaps to flood on the once clean streets.

“Hurry up and find the stairs and elevator shafts.” Steel Fist bellowed at the others with him in the display window. “We need to make this quick!”

Dust was starting to cloud their view making the already dim interior all the more difficult to see. The gunfire from their allies across the street had also come to a stop. Steel Fist was not worried about them though. Stitches probably had tucked herself into some vantage point that was already faraway from the windows to snipe from, so the mortars barrage likely missed her.

As the others located the ways up the building, Steel Fist raised a hand to his lips to whistle a long, shrill note. Moments later, from still high above in the bombed building, a similar whistle echoed back. Stitches was fine.

“We found the elevator shaft.” One of the Skull called to Steel Fist. “They already cut the cables. It seems they know about our tactics.”

“The stairs it is then.” Steel Fist sighed while picking up his heavy armored truck door. “We will need too…”

Interrupting him, a third wave of mortars just then blasted a fresh set of holes into the buildings across the intersection. The deafening impact noises were brief but annoying all the same. When the fresh debris cast their dusty splash on everything below, Steel Fist waved at the swirling dust to finish speaking. “We will need to go up in a tight formation. Any gaps in our shields will spell trouble for us if any bullets get through. Especially if that crack shot that hit my shield’s window is up there.”

Steal Fist split their group once again into three groups. The two largest groups were to go up the stairwells on the north and south ends of the building. As they went up, they were to go in a knit formation by overlaying their shields above their heads and on top of the persons in front of them. This centipede looking formation was likely their best bet at advancing to the floors above. Judging from the fact the elevator cables had already been cut, the Mad Dogs were already prepared to defend the stairs. The third group remained on the ground floor incase someone or something came at them from behind.

Steel Fist stood at the back of the line on the southern stairwell. He was here just in case the other group managed to break through the Mad Dog’s defenses. Though he would rather be at the front, hiding like a coward in the back was not his forte.

Rearing his head back, Steel Fist roared out a mighty battle cry. “Alright, let give them hell!” The sound of this shout and the reverberations of his voice in the stairwell was sure to rattle any defenders above them.

The knit formation of men chanted repeatedly, “One, two. One, two.” This way they all could march in uniform to hold the formation without letting any gaps show. This not only showed their unity as a gang, but further proved why they had not yet been concerned by the Mad Dogs.

…

From above the Mad Dogs were nervously waiting for them with gun barrels aimed downwards at the approaching marching noises. The white stairwell below them was poorly lit by numerous tinny windows. The dim sunbeams illuminating the dancing dust made seeing anyone on the stair difficult to see, which made Riles plan even better.

Rile had come up with a plan to slow the Skulls advance for both the northern and southern stairwells. Three gangsters were left behind on the stairwell turns on three different levels: the third, fifth, and seventh floors. The rest of the Mad Dogs and Rile were blocking up the nineth floor windows carefully to hide from the sniper fire still coming occasionally from across the street and prepare for Steel Fist and his crew. These three groups were tasked to first shoot at any Skull coming up the stairs stall their advances long enough for the Mad Dogs above to get prepared.

Rile had chosen to fight at the southern stairs once the fighting started and he had left one guy in the first group of the northern stairwell that he knew to be capable of holding out for longer than most, Krill. Krill was an odd guy, to say the least. The wiry, nearly fully bald but still barely into his late twenties, man was as nerdy looking as could be. However, Krill was borderline insane.

“Let me shoot first, let me shoot first. I am going to feed ‘em lead like chicken feed!” Krill murmured to himself.

Though Krill was not speaking directly to the other two with him, they could hear every word. This eerie talk made them even more uneasy. Then the guy on the left leaned carefully over to Krill and nudged him with his elbow. “Hey, can you shut up? We got enough to worry about, and we don’t need you spouting creepy stuff.”

Krill turned sharply to look at the man with excited, wild open eyes. This expression made the man step back nervously. Then Krill, still staring down his large, hooked nose at the man without even blinking said, “I’m going to put some lead in their skulls and rattle it around. Why are you stopping me? We are on the same side, right?”

Both men nodded in fervent agreement. The man then stammered a reply, “Uh, ya. Yes, we are on the same side.”

“Good!” Krill giggled and looked back down at the stairwell expectantly. “I’m glad you guys are on my side. Now I can fight in one direction.”

The two men gulped and looked at each other with worry, but they said nothing more, less they do something to upset the psycho next to them. Seconds later all three of them saw something metal appear below them coming upwards towards the stairwell turn. The Skull in formation were coming into view.

Krill shifted eagerly from foot to foot as he aimed down the iron sights of his assault rifle. He kept opening and closing his hands to adjust his grasp of the gun and all the while his face drew tightly into an unexpected serious, glazed look. All three of them had their guns trained at the topmost stair of the bend, with their fingers barely pressing down on the trigger.

“Remember, I shoot first!” Krill hissed not taking his eyes off the movements below.

Seconds later the first shield of the Skull came onto the turn. This shield was lowered and turned to block the Mad Dogs view of the holder, and above that shield was another covering the head of the first shield. Both shields, and the ones that followed all looked to be compacted metal slabs, former steel doors from some security building or bank door. All in all, they looked entirely capable of deflecting bullets.

“Now?” The man on Krill’s right murmured.

“Wait.” Krill replied.

The third shield, followed by the fourth Skull shield appeared onto the bend and it looked they were getting ready to start up the next set of stairs unchallenged. However, Krill did not shoot. The suspense was getting to be too much for the other two.

“Krill, we need to stop them.” The guy on the left whispered harshly. “If you don’t shoot in the next three seconds I will.”

“I said wait.” Krill replied in a calm voice that sounded melo to be comforting. “I just need the right opening.”

“Well, if we shoot at them now the opening will show.” The guy on the right replied.

“Pow!”

Unexpectedly, Krill fired one single bullet, breaking the steady rhythmic marching noise coming from below. The sixth shield carrying Skull gangster had just stepped onto the bend when Krill shot. The shield dropped from the man’s hand and went tumbling down the stairwell gap. The gangster collapsed onto the bend flooring in a crumpled heap, exposing the gangsters in front and behind him.

Seeing the opening Krill and the other two didn’t hesitate. They pulled the triggers as fast as they could at any exposed body parts they could see. The sudden collapse of their formation, followed by the hail of gunfire sent the Skull shield formation into a panic.

Three more shield bearers fell prey to the attack before they reorganized into a new formation. Many of the gangsters were now standing still on bend preparing to block the gunfire with their shields. Krill was the first to empty his magazine at this new wall and instead of reloading he tossed his gun behind him on the floor.

“What are you doing? Keep shooting!” The guy on the left held.

“F*** him! Ignore that idiot and shoot.” The other man countered switching magazines.

Krill reached down into the backpack that was at his feet and pulled out two Molotov cocktails. Then lighting them, Krill let out an unexpected series of beagle like yelps and went running down the stairs at the Skull like a suicide bomber!

“Are you crazy!” One of the Mad Dogs yelled at him, but Krill was already long gone.

Krill ran down the stairs far faster than the Skull had expected. Above him he waved the flaming bottles manically while continuing to yelp furiously. The closest of the Skull turned to aim a pistol and shoot at this crazy man coming at them, but it was to late.

Krill had seen the man making a move and threw the first bottle at him. They were so close that it was nearly impossible to miss. The bottle struck the edge of the gangsters shield and shattered into a blaze of liquid fire, engulfing the man.

The sight of the sudden flames and screeches caused the rest of the Skull watching to freeze with shock. It was all Krill needed. He threw the other bottle into the cluster of shields and charged the closest Skull gangster. Krill launched himself at the gangster and grappled him to the floor. Krill pulled a long knife from his belt and stabbed ferociously at the man’s chest, ending all chances of a struggle.

“You monster!” One of the Skull shouted taking a shot at Krill.

Using his small size to his advantage, Krill rolled to one side just in time to avoid the bullet aimed at his head and lunged at the shooter. The man fired again, but this didn’t stop Krill. That gangster met the same fate as the one before. Two other Skull gangsters went to tackle Krill off the dead man only to be shot by the other two Mad Dogs from above.

The two Mad Dogs then watched in horror as Krill proceeded to engage every advancing Skull in turn. Krill was using the narrow stairs to his advantage to wound or killed them off one by one. Blood and flames mixed with the screams and shouts to create a terrible scene in the dimly lit stairwell.

Seconds later the Skull were fleeing back the way they came. Nine Skull bodies lay, mutilated, shot, and charred on the once white stairwell and amid all this stood Krill. Krill was breathing heavily with a deranged, satisfied smile on his face.

Looking up at the two Mad Dogs above him, Krill gave a thumbs up. “That was fun! Let us do it again!”

They were tasked with just holding the Skull off, but Krill nearly single handily drove them away. Krill was in essence a truly Mad Dog!