Gyaros Book One: The Mice Eat Iron (YA 17+ Sci Fi Adventure) (8 page)

Miles' and Ryker's hands moved like light
ening as they rapidly mashed the shoot button, occasionally jumping to avoid the incoming rocket attacks. All the while the old cabinet clicked loudly and rocked a little. On their first attempt, they managed to bring the mech down to almost half health before being defeated. They quickly fought their way back to the boss, having memorized every detail of the first level by now. This time around, Miles remembered that if you hold down all the buttons at once, you can call in an airstrike that kills all enemies currently on the screen. When used on the boss, the airstrike instantly knocked a solid 25% off its health bar.

“How the fuck do you do that!?” Ryker shouted ov
er the loud noise of the arcade.

“You have to press all the buttons at the same time!” Miles shouted back. Ryker
immediately called in his airstrike, bringing the boss down to 50% health. However, after a few more shots, the huge mech entered its second phase, moving faster and attacking more consistently. Within seconds, Miles and Ryker were once again killed.

“This is fuckin' impossibl
e, dude!” Ryker hollered, angrily slamming his hand on the side of the arcade cabinet.

“Okay, here's how we do it
,” said Miles in his usual serious tone, “we battle it down to half health with regular attacks. Then, once it's at 50%, we both use our airstrikes.”

“Yeah, g
ood idea,” replied Ryker equally as serious. Miles transferred another two credits to the machine and returned his sweating hands to the game controls. Upon reaching the boss for the third time, Miles and Ryker both looked at each other.

“Let's kill this son of a bitch
,” Miles said in a growling voice before turning his focus back to the screen. The mech slowly approached from the right while the Enforcers prepared for battle. A variety of projectiles shot across the screen in all directions as the boss fight raged on. Time seemed to slow down for Miles as he skilfully evaded missiles and fired back at the enemy with almost perfect accuracy. Ryker was no less formidable, refusing to let the boss damage him as he attacked with a consistent stream of bullets which brought the large mechanical enemy's health down at a steady rate. ‘Come on you son of a bitch!’ Quickly glancing at the mech's health bar at the top right corner of the game screen, Miles shouted at the top of his voice!

“NOW RYKER
!”

Ryker slammed his palm onto the controls, pressing all three buttons, the first
airstrike rained down upon the boss leaving it at just below 25% health. Miles did the same, finishing off the mech with a second aerial attack before it had time to enter its second attack phase. The mighty mechanical enemy began to shake crudely, as older games tend to do, before bursting into flames and finally exploding.

“Yes! Suck my dick you
metal asshole!” Ryker yelled emphatically as the two grown men jumped up and down in a celebration that culminated in a loud and sweaty hi five. By now, they were the only ones left in the small arcade.

“Shi
t!” Miles said as he checked the time on the large clock on the wall, it was 01:34 on a work day, Miles couldn't afford to be late so he made his way to the exit in order to rush home.

“I've gotta get some sle
ep, I can't be late for work!” and with that, Miles sprinted out of the building and towards the tram station, leaving Ryker alone in the arcade.

“But mission two's where th
e aliens show up!” he said sounding disappointed, planting his hands on his hips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5

It was 2:05 by the time Miles made it back to his room, he was lucky enough to catch a tram just seconds after reaching the station. Exhausted from a day of work and a night of gaming, Miles collapsed onto his bed without undressing or even turning out the light, he laid there for about a minute with aching hands and sore eyes before softly drifting off to sleep.

*Buzz buzz* *Buzz buzz*

After what felt like only seconds, Miles' bloodshot eyes abruptly opened in order to locate and silence his loud and annoying alarm. Miles rubbed his eyes roughly with both hands and began to stand up. As he struggled to his feet, he noticed a mild headache as well as a stiffness in his neck which he attributed to holding himself in the same position in front of an arcade machine for over two hours. Still partially dressed from the night before, Miles tidied himself up in the bathroom, examined his bloodshot eyes in the mirror, dressed himself, packed his briefcase with his usual lunch and took with him a small red umbrella that the elderly owner of the hotel had been kind enough to give him the previous day, “someone left it behind, no use lettin’ it go to waste,” were his exact words. Miles rushed out the door of his room which locked automatically behind him with a quiet *Beep* as he made his way down the stairs and through the hotel lobby. Miles greeted the owner with a nod on his way out into the never ending downpour of the Yellow District, popping up his umbrella.

Miles was slowly adjusting to his new routine and
he was actually beginning to enjoy the simple work of a cinema janitor. Now that a little more time had passed since the incident with Tyler he was able to appreciate the fact that the work was fairly easy, and he was free to think while he cleaned up, something he never had time for while dealing with the highly cerebral Energy Department duties. That being said, he still yearned painfully for his old life. 'As long as I just keep my head down and play it safe, I’ll be back up in the Green Districts again before I know it. I can do this,' he tried desperately to convince himself as he made his way to the nearby tram station in the heavy rain. The bottoms of his legs were soaking wet as they would briefly leave the shelter of the umbrella with each step he took. 'Just six months, that's all, then I'll be back at my old job again. And I know Hellen will come to her senses, we've had hard times in the past but we've always worked it out, why should this time be any different?'

Miles arrived at work on time as always, he lowered his umbrella, shaking the excess water off it before again stepping through the large double doors of La Cinema Magnifique. He found Ryker already behind the counter preparing for his shift.

“Here you go man,” he said as he tossed Miles his uniform from across the counter top.

“Thanks
,” replied Miles with a subtle nod. He buttoned up his shirt and began his regular duties around the cinema, alone once again as the hours slowly rolled by with little to distract his mind from his current situation. It was becoming harder and harder for Miles to believe that everything was going to be okay, the everyday struggle of life in the Yellow District was wearing him down. The constant sound of pouring rain, the dirty, cracked up streets and the often violent people who inhabit them, was this a life that Miles could ever get used to? As much as he tried to convince himself that things were getting easier, the fact remained that he was not built for this kind of life. An already shy and sensitive guy, he had spent his entire life cocooned in the Green Districts making things that much harder. A few days had been bad enough, to think that this was going to be the next six months of his life made Miles wish that he could take it all back. 'I could've been a better husband, a better worker, a better father. If Hellen just told me there was something wrong I could have changed! I could have made things work God damn it!'

Miles was snapped back to reality
suddenly upon hearing an aggressive argument outside. He could make out at least three different voices, one of which sounded like Ryker's. Miles dropped his broom and quickly made his way out of the empty theatre and into the lobby. Through the glass doors of the cinema Miles could see Ryker outside confronted by three large, tattooed men under the unrelenting downpour. Reluctant to get involved in the argument, Miles watched from inside the cinema, peering from behind one of the faux Grecian pillars.

“Look, I gave you the shit last week, what's the problem!?” Ry
ker shouted in a panicked tone of voice.

“The problem is that the stuff you sold me is complete
shit, fuckin’ useless, couldn’t get my fuckin’ granny high!” replied the largest of the group as he took a step towards Ryker.

“How is that
my
fault!? I don't fuckin' make it!”

Miles watched on anxiously as the debate escalated, part of him wanted to help Ryker but involving himself in
potentially illegal business or violent behaviour was far too big of a risk at this point. He was skating on thin enough ice at it was, one slip up meant a one way trip to Gyaros. After several seconds of shouting, there was a brief silence. Miles sighed, ‘looks like things have settled down.’ But then, without warning, the large man threw a punch at Ryker's face, to Miles' surprise, Ryker blocked the attack and delivered a heavy blow to the thug’s ribcage. He doubled over in agony. The other two members of the group quickly burst into action, attacking Ryker simultaneously. Miles struggled to make out exactly what was happening, but as he caught a glimpse of Ryker’s bloodied face it became apparent that Ryker was losing the fight. Without thinking, Miles rushed out the door in an attempt to break up the conflict but soon realized what he had gotten himself into as he was instantly struck hard in the face, seemingly out of nowhere. Miles collapsed onto the wet sidewalk with a splash, joining Ryker as kicks and punches fell upon them like the unending rain.

“Hey! Get
the hell outta here you damn punks!”

The three attackers quickly fled as Miles heard a familiar voice yell from the cinem
a doors. He looked up to see Mr Grayson wielding a large wooden bat with several long nails hammered through it. Miles and Ryker stumbled to their feet and stepped through the door which was held open by Mr Grayson.

“Shit...
you guys okay?” he asked uneasily as the two men dragged their bloodied bodies, dripping with water, into the lobby.

“I think so
,” answered Ryker through bleeding, swollen lips. Miles assessed his injuries before replying.

“I'll be fine
,” he coughed.

“Hey, listen
,” said Mr Grayson with a broad smile, “you're shifts are almost over, how 'bout I pay you boys a little extra and you go get a couple of drinks tonight?”

“Alright,
sounds good!” Ryker replied, “and hey look I’m sorry for causing trouble Mr Grayson, those guys…”

“Ah, ah, ah. I don’t wanna hear it, I don’t
wanna know,” said Grayson placing a hand on each of their shoulders, “you boys just go out and get some R and R. We’ll start again tomorrow, I can take care of things here for the last couple of hours.”

Miles knew that Hellen wouldn't
like him drinking so he tried to politely decline the offer.

“I'm sorry but my wife doesn't like it when I drink
,” he said sounding slightly disappointed.

“Does she like it when you get your ass kicked in the middle of the street?” Mr. Grayson replied humorously.

“Yeah, dude,” Ryker added, “didn't you say your wife left you anyway?”

Miles thought about his situation, after everything that's happened, could a few drinks seriously do any damage to his
relationship with Hellen anymore? Feeling his injuries as the shock began to wear off, Miles decided it would be best to kill the pain with Ryker at the bar.

“Alright, I'm in
,” he answered with a cheeky grin.

“Fuck yeah! I know a good place
,” said Ryker eagerly.

Mr
Grayson transferred the two their usual pay plus a generous 25% bonus and they set out once again into the rain.

Ryker lead the way through narrow back streets filled with people and small lanes bustling with activity as the artificial lights changed suddenly from day to night with a loud clunk. Miles followed Ryker as they made their way, both limping slightly now feeling the full pain of their wounds. Neither of the two spoke much on the way to the bar except to complain about their injuries. And besides that, Miles was far too busy marvelling at the dingy underbelly of the Yellow Districts to sustain a conversation. The streets were filled with flashy neon signs and garish advertisements. Street vendors yelled out at the top of their lungs, peddling their wears and drunken brawls broke out spontaneously as ladies, boys and everything in between sold their bodies to anyone passing by. ‘Holy shit, I didn’t even know places like this existed,’ thought Miles who was thankful to have Ryker there to escort him through the frightening gauntlet that was the South West Yellow District at night.

As they made their way down
yet another dark back alley, Ryker stopped about halfway.

“Well, t
his is it,” he said with a smile.

“What?” Miles replied, confused.

“Uh, we're here,” Ryker pointed to a small sign above a heavy looking wooden door. Lit by a dim, flickering light bulb, the rusty metal sign read Wolf's Den.

“You're joki
ng, right?” said Miles angrily, accustomed to lavish restaurants and cafés of the Green Districts.

“It's not as bad as it looks. C'mon I'll show you
,” and with that, Ryker pulled the heavy door open with a grunt of pain. Bright red light suddenly illuminated the dark alley and the sound of rain was now accompanied by loud chatter, clinking glasses and pulsating music.