—Darkest Days—

by: Glass Angel

CHAPTER V

The cold rain pounded hard against Samus's back as she followed Talon's motorcycle on her own, but she tried her best to ignore it. The only things she was concentrating on was not losing sight of Talon in the inky black darkness of night and just how he was going to trick her into believing that he wasn't the one trying to kill her. This was definitely going to be interesting.

Talon lead her down many winding roads and to a part of the town she didn't visit quite often—run down, small houses, very few people about. The few streetlights that still struggled to stay lit helped Samus locate the jet-black motorcycle before her. It was difficult enough to try to see him at night, but it was nearly impossible with all the black he wore. She followed the quick, flashing movement of his black leather coat to differentiate him from the surrounding darkness.

Talon suddenly made a sharp turn to the left and Samus, albeit a bit surprised, followed him into a narrow alleyway. They flew past a few homeless people who eyed their motorcycles with lustful want. The alleyway seemed to stretch much further than Samus expected until Talon came to an abrupt stop. She halted just as quickly and pulled off her helmet. Talon did the same and faced her.

"This is the place," Talon said, turning to a tall metal door on the side of one of the buildings. He tried the door and found it unlocked. "Apparently he's expecting our company." He opened the door quietly and stepped inside with Samus close behind.

They found themselves in a large warehouse, obviously abandoned—the floor was covered in dust and grime, with metal crates scattered about carelessly. All was silent, and the room was as black as the night sky outside. The fellow bounty hunters stepped in cautiously, guns out and ready. The silence was so deafening that it was beginning to distract Samus, but she kept her wits about her.

Suddenly, a brilliant illumination of flames burst out of the ceiling and lit a large torch hanging in the middle of the room. Talon and Samus pointed their guns up instinctively, but saw no one. The room was now brightly lit, and they could see everything but the corners of the ceiling itself.

A form leapt down from one of those corners and landed a distance away from them. He was dressed all in black, with a small hood and mask to cover his face. The only skin showing was around his deep hazel eyes—otherwise he was clothed in black, from his thick black gloves to his knee-high ink-colored boots. A large gun rested in his left hand; it was about as long as his thigh.

Samus stared at him for a moment, then glared. "That's him."

"Just as I thought," Talon replied, eyes still fixated on the man before them. "Now do you believe me?"

They both looked up at the sound of a click of the man's gun.

"Talon, you came," he said, watching him calmly. "I'm surprised you came so soon." He spied Samus beside him. "And you brought the bounty hunter girl with you." Samus eyed Talon questioningly. Talon didn't look at her.

"I told him I'd bring you here when he found me earlier tonight," he explained. "I'm not worried about you at all."

"Do you know him?" Samus asked.

"I know of him, but nothing more," he answered. The man before them laughed out loud.

"Talon, don't lie to the girl." He pulled the mask down and lowered the hood. "You know me."

Samus gasped. Underneath the hood was a shock of long, bright red hair. The sight instantly brought her back to the bar she had gone to to collect her bounty of the bar owner—he was the only customer who didn't leave the bar as soon as she had opened fire. His frame was smaller and a bit thinner than Talon's, but he looked no younger.

Talon didn't answer for a moment.

". . . Shirk," he muttered. "How nice to see you."

Shirk raised the gun at them, which seemed a lot larger than just a normal firearm to Samus. "I'm getting tired of waiting for you to make up your mind, so I'm taking over this now." He pulled the trigger, and a burst of bright red flames escaped from the mouth and blasted in Talon and Samus's direction. They leapt on opposite sides and opened fire at their red-haired enemy. Shirk dodged the flying bullets and climbed onto a metal crate with ease.

"He always did have a liking for fire," Talon glowered. He let out another barrage of bullets in Shirk's direction, but he had already disappeared into the darkness of the corners of the room.

"I'm going to kill that bastard!" Samus reloaded her gun. "Why the hell does he want to kill me? I don't even know who he is." She turned to the frustrated Talon. "And how do you know him?"

"I told you," he replied, studying the darkness carefully, "we were apart of the same guild. I guess he's a private assassin now. I wouldn't be surprised at all." He glared even more.

"You damn fool." Shirk's voice rang through the entire room like a church bell. "You know exactly what I'm doing." A huge field of fire exploded from the ceiling and engulfed Talon.

"Talon!!" Samus stared over at Talon, who was crouched on the ground and still aflame.

"Go find him!" Talon yelled to her. "My coat is flame-resistant! I'll be fine!" Samus stared down at his flame-ridden body, turned, and ran across the room.

"Shirk!! Where the hell are you?!" Samus looked around at the ceiling, trying hard to spot his red hair in the darkness. "You coward!!" she screamed at the ceiling. "Attacking me at night and now hiding from me! What kind of assassin do you think you are?!"

A flash of red appeared in front of Samus as Shirk smacked her across the head with the flame-thrower. She fell to the ground, sending her gun sliding across the floor a good distance away. Shirk's foot came down hard on her stomach, pinning her to the ground. Samus gasped in pain.

Shirk pointed the flame-thrower at her face. "The smart kind." He pulled the safety catch with a satisfying click.

He hardly saw the sword coming as a diamond blade sunk into his stomach.

Shirk leapt back with a scream of pain, dropping the flame-thrower to one side and covering the gash in his gut. Talon pulled his sword back, the flames around him now dead, and dark blood dripping from the tip of the blade.

"Shirk, get the hell away from her," Talon commanded with a glare. "This is none of your business." Shirk regained his composure and withdrew an equally diamond blade covered in obsidian glass.

"Oh?" He glared just as fiercely. "Is it?" The two bounty hunters lunged at eachother and met blades. Samus sat up and coughed hard, trying to catch her breath. She looked up and found the two of them engaged in a swordfight, using intricate skills that would put an expert swordsman to shame. Every clash send shards of obsidian everywhere until Shirk's black diamond blade was nearly naked. No one seemed to be winning over the other; an equal match, even with almost identical style.

Samus broke her gaze away from the fight and spotted her forgotten gun a few feet away. She scrambled up and ran over to it, scooping it up from the ground smoothly. Turning, she pulled the safety catch and shot a bullet straight at Shirk's back.

The bullet made contact, and Shirk gasped in surprise. Talon took advantage of the opening and slashed the assassin across the face. Shirk cried out in pain and leapt back, a hand flying to his face.

"D-damn you Talon," he spat out angrily. "You're fucking up everything. . ." He grabbed up the flame-thrower and leapt up a few crates.

"Hey!" Samus ran toward the crates, but then stopped—he was already gone through the ceiling.

Talon walked over to her, sheathing his sword. "Are you alright?"

"Of course, I'm fine," she answered, turning to him. "The question is, are you alright?" Talon's tired expression was dispelled with a small smile.

"Aside from being set on fire, I'm just fine as well. I doubt we'll be seeing the last of Shirk, though. This confrontation seemed a little too short to be the final one. I know he'll come back to kill you." Talon paused. "He must be after your bounty. After all, you did kill Mother Brain."

Samus nodded in agreement, then stopped and turned around. "Do you. . . smell something?" Talon sniffed the air. His fading smile disappeared completely.

"It smells like. . . gasoline. . . " He stared at the wall in realization and immediately grabbed Samus by the wrist. "Let's go!"

The two sprinted toward the door, but it was too late. The explosion erupted from behind them and sent them flying through the air, engulfing them in flames and debris and shattered glass. The sound was deafening, and the glass tore at Samus's limbs mercilessly. She screamed in pain as a shard of glass grazed her head, forming a laceration from her forehead to behind her ear. The two bounty hunters hit the wall of another building and were pressed against it by the force of the explosion. Talon covered Samus protectively with his own body, shielding her from debris.

The explosion seemed to last forever—nothing but flames, shards of brick, glass, and metal, and chunks of earth constantly slamming against Talons back, and causing him to cry out in pain. Samus stared up at Talon's pain-wracked face in dumbed silence—why would he do such a thing for her? Why was he risking his life to save her?

"Talon. . ." Her voice trailed off.

Talon opened his eyes weakly and looked down at her. He smiled a small, knowing smile at her, but soon gasped in pain from a shard of glass. He cringed deeply, blood and sweat coating his face. She reached up and wiped some of the mess away from his eyes.

The explosion soon died down, and all was silent in the cold, unfeeling night. The only sound came from Talon's heavy breathing as he drooped wearily. Samus wiped more blood from his face.

"Talon. . . why. . ."

Talon opened his eyes once more, and smiled that smile she was so familiar with.

"I told you. . ." he said quietly, slowly. "I need a little. . . competition. . . here. . ." His head began to droop.

"Talon. . ." Samus began, almost as weakly, for she was losing a lot of blood from a headwound the stray shard of glass had made, "you can't have competition when you're. . . dead. . ."

"I won't. . . die. . ." Talon replied matter-of-factly. "I. . . can't. . ."

He slowly lowered his head onto her shoulder, and they both lost themselves to unconsciousness.