116.

  The lunatic had actually fired into a room packed with innocent people. Even worse, he didn't shoot anywhere near me; he just fired the gun in my direction. I ducked and ran as people began screaming and stampeding. I didn't want to use them as a human shield, but there was no way I could avoid them. They were everywhere trying to flee for the exits. People were stumbling over one another, falling, and being stamped on. Panic erupted in the tiny space, but the music kept going, the lights kept strobing and the G15 goons continued pouring out of the stairwell. This was insanity.

  I pulled out my Wrist Rocket, loaded a Bang Rock, and leaped over the bar. The goons fired again. Bottles burst above my head, raining glass and alcohol on top of me. I ran a little way to my right, leaped out from cover, and saw the shooter was only five or six feet away, reloading his gun. I fired and hit him in the chest, sending him flying backward. Fortunately, the other G15 members weren't as stupid. I saw another gun in someone's hand, but he couldn't get a clear shot, so he didn't fire. That gave me a second to try and figure out what the hell was going on. People were still screaming and running, but the place was clearing out quickly. Once it was empty, the dancefloor would be a shooting gallery, and I didn’t have anywhere to hide.

  I popped out from behind the bar again, fired at another G15 member who had crept closer, and hit him in the side, blowing him off his feet. Then I pulled Grandad's bat out again, hopped over the bar, and charged at them. There were eight of them standing there. They weren't armed, but they were ready for a fight. I hit one straight in the stomach, blowing him away. Another one kicked me in the side, and someone grabbed hold of me by the hood, trying to pull it down over my face. I swung my fist blindly and zapped him in the elbow. He screeched and let go. I popped up and slammed my head into his chin, dropping him to the floor. Two more were on me, punching and kicking me from either side. I lashed out with Grandad's bat, hitting one of them with the back of it. I stumbled backwards and saw the rest were trying to surround me.

  Then I caught the glint of a blade in the strobing lights. One of the goons grabbed me in a headlock, and I felt the blade stabbing into the carapace on my back. He tried to stab me four times and would have disemboweled me the way he was going. I roared, wrapped my arm around his waist, and charged forward, pulling him off his feet, breaking through the ranks of G15 members, and into the crowd of fleeing people. Suddenly, we were both bowled over as people stampeded towards the exit. The goon was thrown off me, and I pushed my way through the crowd, spinning around and cracking the goon straight across the side of his head with Grandad’s bat. He slumped to the floor and the blade fell from his hand.

  “Shit!” I gasped, feeling the familiar sick feeling of almost being killed creeping up the back of my throat. This situation had gotten out of hand so quickly. I breathed heavily, my scarf felt suffocating.

  I stumbled through the crowd, which was almost gone now, and onto the stage where the DJ was still mixing songs and dancing as if he didn't know what was happening. I looked at him, he looked at me, and then his eyes grew wide, and he turned and ran. I raised my bat, turned, and saw another G15 member raising a gun. I had just made myself an easy target. I dived to my right behind the DJ's booth as automatic gunfire ripped through the stage where I'd been standing. The goon unloaded the entire clip of Uzi ammunition in about ten seconds. The stage was riddled with bullets, but the DJ's booth had protected me. I activated my cloaking charm with the blood from my nostrils and then ran out from cover, hoping that the flashing lights and the general darkness of the place would cover me.

  Fortunately, it did. The G15 goons were expecting me to pop up from behind the booth, and they were all standing there staring. Two of them had guns trained on the DJ booth, the rest had picked up weapons from around them. The little club was almost empty now, and I used the darkness and the strobing lights to my advantage. I ghosted around behind them while they were shouting at each other, trying to egg each other on to check where I was. The one with the submachine gun crept onto the stage, and I took my chance to take him down. The Bang Rock hit him in the neck and his head snapped sideways, the gun firing wildly up into the air, sending plaster raining down on us. The remaining G15 members panicked and ran towards the stage, and I followed behind them. I smashed one of them across the back with Grandad's bat, another across the side of his knee, and the third, who turned just in time to take a chest full of bat.

  That left just three members on their feet, but not for long. I uppercutted one just as my cloaking charm failed. The energy and concentration I needed to keep it going wavered just enough for the charm to disappear. So, to that poor goon, it must have looked like I literally teleported out of thin air and uppercutted him. He fell, gargling, to the floor, closely followed by a second who was zapped straight in the ear. He screamed and tumbled down. The final one looked at me in terror before turning and running back to the stairs. I chased after him and caught him just before he got there, swinging the bat at his ankle and blowing his feet so far out that he ended up doing the splits. He screamed and grabbed at his crotch. I kicked him in the back so hard that he pancaked to the floor and bashed his chin on the concrete.

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  I took a brief second to look around at the mayhem of the dancefloor, before leaping over his fallen body charging up the stairs. I burst into the room, which I assumed was an office, at the top of the cramped staircase, and stumbled upon a bizarre scene. There were four G-15 members in the office: three in the black hooded uniform with skull masks, and the fourth was a thin, short, bald-headed guy with a sharp goatee and dangling gold hoop earrings. He was decked out all in black leather with studs and spikes on his belt and his fingerless gloves. I guessed this must be Tyson, the leader of G-15, and he and all three of his goons were holding guns pointed directly at Danny and his goons, who reciprocated with guns pointed back at the G-15 members.

  It was a tense standoff, and as I burst through the door, I felt like I was a second away from all those guns going off.

  “Is this a fucking setup?” Danny spat at Tyson, sweat dripping down his bald head.

  “You tell me, motherfucker,” Tyson spat back at him. “You don't think I know the shit you've been pulling? I know you've been selling guns to the Lear boys, and now what, you send your goon in here to rob me?”

  “Rob you?” Danny spat back. “Why the fuck do I need to rob a little shit like you?”

  “Little shit?” Tyson said. “Why don't we fucking find out about that, old man?” He gripped his gun tighter.

  I just stood there nonplussed for a second, and it was as if they all suddenly realized I was in the room. Guns turned on me, and I licked my lips. I had no escape route. I could turn and run back down the stairs, but they'd gun me down before I got very far.

  “Who the fuck is this? One of yours?” Danny said.

  Tyson looked me up and down and he seemed confused for a second.

  “You ain't one of mine, are you?” he asked.

  I looked from each set of criminals.

  “He's must be one of yours,” Tyson spat at Danny. “You sent a hitter in here to try and get me?”

  “Why would I send someone in to kill you while I'm doing business with you? That don't even fucking make sense,” Danny said.

  “Of course it does,” Tyson spat back. “You kill me, you take the guns and the money. Easy for you, ain't it?”

  “If I wanted you dead, you little shit, you wouldn't even see it coming,” Danny said, pointing his gun at him for emphasis. “So, I'll ask again, who the fuck is he then?”

  Tyson looked me up and down again and then pointed a massive revolver at me.

  “Well, who the fuck are you?”

  I swallowed and then raised my hands, none of them realizing that my right hand was closed as I raised it.

  “You don't know who I am?”

  “I’m going to put a fucking bullet in your face in a minute!” Tyson roared. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I'm the Gutter Mage,” I said, and then I opened my hand.

  A rain of pennies fell from it, and I prayed like I never had before that one of those damn Flash Coins would work. One of them did. In the dingy, cramped office, one was all I needed. The coin went off, and I threw myself down at the same second with my eyes closed. Suddenly, gunfire ripped through the room. It came from every angle, in every direction, as the blinded criminals began to unload on each other while I hid on the floor with my hands over my head and my eyes squeezed shut. Furniture exploded around me. I heard people scream, and then just as quickly as the violence had erupted, it suddenly stopped.

  I blinked a few times, looked around, and took in the massacre in front of me. Tyson was dead, blood dripping from the side of his mouth. He'd taken three bullets to the chest. One of his men was slumped against the wall, bleeding from a wound in his cheek. Another lay rolling around on the floor, clutching his eyes and his side where he'd been shot. The fourth just stood there, blind and confused, his gun smoking.

  I looked over and saw two of Danny's men were dead. Danny, like me, had thrown himself to the floor the second the bullets started flying. He blinked in confusion as the effects of the coin wore off, and then, on some sort of feral criminal instinct, he lunged for the bag of money, grabbed it, and ran. I hadn't realised this, but there was a fire exit behind him. One of his men was still alive and he took off after Danny.

  I leaped to my feet and followed. The remaining G15 goon spun and began firing at me. I had to throw myself down again behind the sofa as his gun barked. I heard Danny’s footsteps fading as he pelted down the fire escape stairs.

  “Shit!” I spat.

  I popped out from behind the sofa and fired a Bang Rock at the G15 goon, hitting him in the shoulder and knocking him to the floor. I leaped to my feet, jumped over the sofa, and burst out the fire exit, only to throw myself backwards again as a hail of bullets flew past my face. Danny’s goon had been waiting at the bottom of the stairs for me. I turned back the way I came, ignored the massacre in front of me, jumped over the sofa, ran back down the stairs I had come up, flew through the dance hall strewn with unconscious bodies, and out the front exit just in time to see Danny's car disappearing down the road.

  “Fuck!” I roared into the darkness. He'd gotten away!