Chapter 4 of Beneath Cold Boughs

< – Down Among the Worms | The Upside Down->

Chasing the Tree

(Set before part 1 of Down Among the Worms)

As Diana and Jane headed for home after speaking with Suleiman, Morris instead decided to keep an eye on the Tree as it was cut out of the shell of Willowgate. Morris found himself at home in the dark, easily lurking out of sight of Hank and his crew as they continued their work. It took until after 2am for the Tree to be removed and placed carefully under the tarpaulin of a flatbed truck, and once there swiftly driven away. Hank and his crew headed for some much-needed sleep and Morris gave chase, like it was the old days driving with Big Jimmy.

The truck lead him east into the grim underbelly of Morganville, nearly losing him twice as it caught the last moments of a green light and almost leading to him getting T-boned when he ran a red to keep up, but he successfully tailed it to a warehouse near the old harbour overlooking Sauton Point. It was a dingy looking half-forgotten place that looked like it should have been knocked down decades before, watched from all sides by modern security cameras. Morris parked his car a block away, close enough to the nearest cluster of vagrants to maybe tempt one to try something just so he could hurt them for it, and stalked closer through the gloom. Around him the glaur and decay of the swamp reached out and ruined the cameras one by one, and he slipped inside under the cover of comfortable darkness.

Voices carried down from a gantry-mounted office above, two men talking about a football game and complaining about referees, while the truck sat beside ancient-looking crates and pallets that had been dragged out of the way for it. Morris paid the old crates little heed, heading straight for the truck and slipped under the tarpaulin to check on the tree. Overhead the men’s conversation wound down and once started making his way down to check on his load. Seizing the opportunity handed to him, Morris waited for the driver to reach the tarp before grabbing choking him into unconsciousness, the better to question later.

It was when he started looking for the other man that Morris be realised there was something else in the still, silent warehouse beyond the tarpaulin. A rumbling, rasping sound echoed through the darkness, and something moved out of sight accompanied by the sharp sounds of claws on concrete. Whisps of dust outlined a suggestion of an emaciated, predatory frame, sharp edges glinted in the air and the rasping rumbling sound cohered into a voice that rumbled a command to flee into the back of Morris’ skull.

Morris responded with violence, raining blows that would have felled men or cracked concrete into the thing and it responded in kind, his blood revealing razor fangs and rending claws as it torn into his flesh. The creature shrugged of blow after blow, only being stunned for a moment when Morris started shattering crates and barrels against the thing, but it was too much for him. Bleeding from multiple wounds and barely keeping the thing from his throat, he felt something. A surge of warmth welling up around him, a protective, all-encompassing, hungry love that whispered in the back of his mind that not every fight need be won. With the last dregs of his strength, Morris reached out to the tangled maze of the Basement, dragged himself and the driver across the threshold between worlds and fell into unconsciousness.

Consequences

The next thing Morris knew was hunger. Raw aching Hunger, like a pit had opened in his heart and everything with any measure of value had fallen into it. He was face-down in the boxing ring in his gym, it was night but he could not tell any more than that. His phone was dead, stinking of swamp mud and salt water, and his car was back in Morganville. So he started walking, anything to distract himself from the Hunger. After a few blocks he spotted the swastikas and the Hunger rose in pitch.

Neonazi punks, wannabe badasses, it would feel so good to break them down and remind them how weak they were. So he did just that. Walked into Jack’s and found every excuse he could to start beating on the punks. The Hunger still gnawed and roared and the punks soon went for weapons when they couldn’t stop him with fists, so he pitched a scrawny one into the cluster trying to surround him and stalked out. Then for good measure, as they tried to pile out after him, he scooped up one of the cars parked outside and threw it into the bar.

Still hungry. Still so damned Hungry. Over the next few hours Morris carved a path of violence across the city toward Morganville, breaking every petty little shithead or wannabe tough he crossed paths with, along with any poor bastards who happened to cross his path at the wrong moment. It was not enough. It felt like it would never be enough. Then he found where his car had been, where it wasn’t any more, and he became actually angry. He unleashed his wrath on the nearby vagrants until one them coughed up a name, and he finally had a target to vent his rage upon.

Following Threads

(Set after Down Among the Worms)

Diana spent the evening after she and Jane visited to Presidents Row digging into research. Nothing she could find about the Row suggested it was anything important, just another faded little neighbourhood ripe for redevelopment into something actually useful. She found herself going over what Suleiman had said about having a hand in the Alabaster Building. Some cursory research revealed the building had been built by Coulter & Matheison, a prestigious firm responsible for a number of Blackmouth’s more distinctive buildings, but no-one resembling Suleiman appeared anywhere connected to the firm. The old school they had met in was easy enough to mind once she put her mind to it, retracing the trip there and the view over the city identified it as Gilchrist College, an old private school on the hills overlooking the city, though it appeared far less dilapidated and ill-used in photographs than in person. And again, no traces to Suleiman, nor to Coulter & Matheison.

That would have to do for now. It was time to start driving down property prices in President’s Row, and she knew just the person to do what was necessary. She braced herself and dialed the number. Carter picked up after the third ring, his oily charm seeping through the phone as he greeted Diana by name. By a diminutive of her old name, just like he used to. Of course, he would love to meet up with her. It was late but he was always happy to make time for an old friend. They met in the shadows of Lockham, in the alleyway they used to smoke in, out of sight of anyone who cared, and Diana laid out her plan. Carter was to go to the Row and do what he did best, with an aim to make people want to leave and be more willing to sell up. He was hesitant, he didn’t really want to cross the Patriots but money and a little white lie about getting back together, just like old times, sealed the deal. And maybe some sort of terrible accident would happen to Carter later, if the Patriots didn’t.

She was on the subway back to her apartment when she overheard a pair gawking at footage of an incident in Ormwood. The angle was poor and the footage worse but it almost looked like a car thrown into the front of a building. The gawkers were deep in discussion about whether it was viral marketting for a film or an ARG, but Diana recognised that hideous strength. Morris. She stepped out of the subway at the next station, barely feeling the world shift around her as she walked through the empty station. The twisting pipes of the Basement rose and fell and she found herself on the remnants of harbour where Morganville met the Atlantic, and saw Morris dunking a mass of chains wrapped about a squirming, pleading figure. She demanded he let the man go, and Morris did just that, throwing poor Jimmy Fingers into the icy waters of the Atlantic.

This had to stop. First Jane and her indiscretion at the Ormwood Development soiree, and now cars being thrown into bars and this. Morris shrugged at Diana and didn’t deny it. Jimmy’s fate had been enough to finally fill the hole in his soul and he could think about more than Hunger. In his eyes they were neo-nazis and deserved worse, but maybe things could be less open. He made no promises except to try to keep her name out of it, because that was what she was really concerned about.

People Appearing

  • Morris Mayfair – bit off more than he could chew and carved a swath of revenge to make up for it.
  • A truck driver, beaten unconscious by Morris then lost in his Lair
  • Several members of the Aryan Legion, assaulted by Morris.
  • Diana Graves – sought information and leverage to aid her climb to the top.
  • Suleiman (Mentioned) – information and leverage over him proved hard to find.
  • Carter (First Appearance) – Old “friend” of Diana’s. Enlisted to instigate trouble in Presidents Row.
  • The Patriots (Mentioned) – gang operating in Presidents Row.
  • Jimmy Fingers (First Appearance) – Morganville vagrant, stole Morris’ car for meth. Drowned in chains.

Locations

  • Jack’s – bar on the edge of Ormwood and Manton, frequented by local Aryan Legion types. Where Morris started his night’s rampage.
  • The backstreets of Lockham.
  • A worn down warehouse in the really bad part of Morganville, where Morris tailed the truck carrying the Tree to.