Anarchy Boyz by D L Young

Author:D L Young [Young, D L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781734652222
Publisher: Concordia Professional Services, LLC
Published: 2020-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

13 - Long Time No See

Later, Maddox would only recall the immediate aftermath of Jack’s death as a blur of disconnected moments he’d navigated in a dull stupor. A vague recollection of Tommy taking the gun and firing back at the cops. The kid pulling him out of the room and down to the basement. The two of them making it to the subway and riding the 7 train to the end of the line, then hunkering down in an abandoned shopping center in Flushing.

When Maddox finally recovered his wits, he ripped into the kid.

“You killed him, you damned fool,” he sneered. “You might as well have put a bullet in his head.”

The kid tried to defend his actions, but Maddox wasn’t hearing any of it. “You plugged in and ten minutes later the cops are up our asses. They tagged you, just like I said they would.”

“But I was cloaked,” the kid shot back, “there’s no way they could have—”

“How the fuck would you know?” Maddox interrupted. “You’re not a datajacker. You’re a wannabe. How many times have you plugged into core VS? Five? Six? And half of those times I was there holding your hand. You’ve got blind spots as big as whole galaxies. You got Jack killed tonight, you little shit.”

Something seemed to break inside the kid, snapping like a dry twig. He cast his eyes down at his shoes. “I just wanted to help my friends,” he said somberly. “I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t think,” Maddox said, “as usual.”

They stood there for a long moment in silence. Rainwater dripped from the roof into a puddle on the cracked tile floor. Tommy sat, still staring downward. The kid’s head hung low, his shoulders rounded in defeat, as if the scolding had beaten him down physically. Or maybe it was simply exhaustion, Maddox thought, aware of his own overwhelming tiredness. The comedown crash following an hours-long adrenaline rush.

The kid removed his jacket, balled it up for a pillow, and lay down with his back to Maddox.

“They’re my friends,” he whimpered.

Maddox sat, blew out a long breath. “I know, kid.” He wanted to say more, but no words came.

Yes, the kid had screwed up. Screwed up badly. But this whole thing wasn’t the kid’s mess, Maddox reminded himself. And when he could have kept Jack out of it, Maddox hadn’t pushed hard enough. So if there was blame to be assigned for Jack’s death, Maddox confessed inwardly that a large portion of it—if not the entire share—belonged to him.

Moments later, Tommy dozed off. Maddox watched as the kid slept, snoring lightly. He shouldn’t have blown up at the kid like that. Rooney had never given him a tongue-lashing like that, even when the younger version of himself had fully earned it.

In the morning he’d set things right. More than most, Maddox knew what death-guilt could do to a person, and he didn’t want Tommy to suffer as he had, haunted by a pain and regret that never went away.

Overcome with fatigue, Maddox lay down on the cold, hard floor.

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