Second Wind

Chapter 9: Back to the Bar

Two hours would pass after the m******e which occurred at the impound. When the impound owner, he woke up to find himself sitting on his chair within his office block. He looked around side to side, wondering just where he was before noticing the vigilante sitting opposite him, which was more than enough to make him flinch in surprise as he held his breath for a moment, but upon realizing that she was not wearing a mask unlike the others, he took one good look at her before finally calming himself down before speaking up. Sure, he was rather suspicious about the hood that she had over her face, but he chose to not bother about that for the time being. His voice sounded strained and tired, which reflected on the sheer amount of panic which he felt just not too long ago.

"Thank goodness you're not with them...well, I hope you're not with them. Who are you...?"

"Don't need to know. But you're right about the part where I'm not with those gangsters that tried to mess with you."

"...so you're the one that showed up and squared up against them. Why...?"

"Well...let's just say that I need a ride. I need to get to Brightmoor as quickly as possible, and my first motorcycle got destroyed by those Pathfinder punks. You think you can help me out?"

"So you're looking for a bike...well, good thing you're here, then! Come outside with me so that you can take your pick."

With that, the two got themselves off their seats as they headed outside - as soon as the man opened the door, however, he was immediately greeted with Pigeon's corpse as it dropped down to the ground right in front of them. Seeing a dead body show itself out of seemingly nowhere was enough to catch him by surprise as he instinctively took a step back, his eyes widening with panic. Blake, on the other hand, looked to be filled with indifference as she just walked out of the door and over the gangster's body as she headed off towards the motorcycles that were lined up at her right, in front of her. Once the owner managed to calm herself down, he quickly rushed over to the vigilante as he addressed her directly involving what had just happened.

"What was that?!"

"A dead body. What did you think it was?"

"I know that, but you killed her?!"

"Of course I did. What did you want me to do, let one of her cronies stick a knife down your throat?"

"I...um, right..."

Looks like Blake managed to silence him there. Once the two arrived at the assortment of motorcycles, she took one good look at the countless choices she had at her disposal as she folded her arms and squinted her eyes. As for the impound owner, he took a few steps forward so that he could be in front of her before turning around to face her. Once that was out of the way, he soon posed a simple question towards the vigilante.

"Right! Just what kinda ride do you fancy?"

He was met with silence as Blake continued staring at the bikes before her - sure, she could just pick one and be done with it, but she was bent on getting herself a ride that really accentuated her style. She wanted to get herself a motorcycle which served as a warning to those that see it - an indication that she had arrived, and that she was out for blood. That was probably the reason why she felt so filled with indecision - after about a minute or two had passed, she let out a rather frustrated groan as she brought up her troubles to the owner.

"Okay, I'm kinda spoilt for choice here, so...how about you pick a bike for me based on my preferences?"

"Well, I don't mind that. What are your preferences, though?"

"...I need a ride that really reflects on what has happened here. I need a bike where, if gangsters like them see it, they get absolutely terrified and run for their lives. It needs to be a symbol of hope and fear at the same time, you know?"

"...that sounds awfully corny, but I think I get what you're saying."

"Hm, that's good."

"It'll take some time for me to find what you're looking for, though. Chances are you'll have to pick between the narrowed down options as well if there's more than one choice for you to make. You okay with that?"

"Mhm."

"Alright, there's that, then! You coming with me?"

"...nah. I think I'll wait for you at the office block. I'm feeling kinda lazy after having to deal with the gangsters that tried to kill you just hours ago."

"Um...right!"

Safe to say he was slightly shaken by her words, but ultimately chose to shake it off as he made his way towards the collection of bikes while Blake turned back and returned to the office block to bide her time.

After 30 minutes had passed, Blake was seen lazing about in the office block with her feet on the table. Her chair was being balanced on two legs - a risky move, but nothing too serious. Her arms were behind her head, and her eyes were closed as she remained mostly within her conscience. All was quiet...just as how she likes it. However, the silence was soon broken as she heard the sound of a horn blaring behind her. The noise was enough to make the vigilante lose her concentration for a brief moment, losing balance in the process as the chair toppled over with her in tow. After collapsing to the ground, she laid there for a second or two, letting out a pained groan as the door opened, revealing the impound owner on the other side. There was a slight bumping sound which could be heard when he opened the door, but he was not too bothered by it. He looked to be somewhat filled with anticipation as he preemptively spoke up, relaying the news to Blake.

"Okay! It took some time, but I managed to narrow it down to three choices!"

"...ow."

Upon hearing the completely irrelevant response, he raised an eyebrow before realizing that the vigilante was not there - when he looked down at the ground, he realized that the door ended up clocking her square in the head as she stared up at him with a slightly dizzy expression on her face. He took a step back, moving the door backward a bit so that she could get herself up without hitting her head on the doorknob.

"Yikes, sorry."

"Ugh...don't worry about it..."

She quickly got herself back up to her feet, rubbing her head for a few seconds before letting out a sigh and folding her arms whilst trying to ignore the pain that she was feeling at the moment.

"Anyways...you needed me for something?"

"Mhm. Head outside."

And so she did. Once she got herself out of the block and out into the open, she saw a trio of motorcycles lined up in front of her - all of them possessed this look of wear and tear, which makes sense, given how an impound is a place for used or towed vehicles. None of them seemed to interest her in the slightest...except for one. There was this dirt bike situated at her right which looked to have caught her attention. The bike looked like any bike used for a motocross event, with the tires possessing a more rugged feel compared to standard tires. The body was painted with an orange color that had mostly faded due to lack of maintenance.

It was a very simple-looking motorcycle, which was probably she was so attracted to it. Simplicity breeds perfection, right? The owner was quick to notice her attention fixated on the dirt bike as well.

"Looks like something's caught your eye, huh?"

"Yep. The bike in orange."

"Not a bad choice, I'd say. This thing has been with me for a while - the backstory for the bike is a lot more tragic, but I won't spare you the details if you don't wanna listen to it. Either way, it's been waiting for a new owner for a long time now...so you've made your decision on the dirt bike, then?"

After a moment of thinking over her choice, she gave the owner a definite nod as she sealed the decision on her vehicle of choice with her words of approval.

"Yessir."

"Right, then. She's all yours."

She clapped her hands together with glee upon hearing those words as she walked up to the dirt bike, and when she got herself on, her mind immediately got distracted with a thought that came to her conscience. After a moment of silence while she sat there, she quickly looked up at the owner as she posed a question to him.

"...swear I'm supposed to pay for this."

"Psh, I think I can afford letting one bike go for free."

"...that's not how this works and you know it."

"I'm aware. But you literally saved me from an afterlife that I'm not ready to visit yet. Yeah, this city sucks, but I still got some life left to live, and if you weren't here, I probably would've wasted those years for nothing. So hey, consider this a moment of gratitude on my end."

"...damn. You do know there's times where being generous just isn't the best course of action, right?"

"Hey, if your bike gets destroyed, then I'll charge you for another. But seeing how this bike has been around for such a long time, I don't see any reason to make you pay for it, especially since you put yourself through a lot of work just to get rid of those gangsters."

"Hmph...I guess in that sense, I do deserve this, huh?"

"In a way, yes. But I do have one more thing to ask you, though. Consider this as me asking for your payment."

"Psh, should've seen this coming. What is it?"

"...who are you?"

Upon hearing his rather simplistic question, she let out a scoff followed by a small chuckle as she answered his question with a question of her own.

"Do you really wanna know?"

"Well, yeah...this whole time, your hood has been constantly shrouding your face. Nothing wrong with being curious, right? It's only fair I know the person who saved me."

"Hmm...I guess you have a fair point. Hope you don't faint, though."

"Why, exactly?"

Sure enough, she would respond to his question by bringing her hood down, displaying her identity to the man as his eyes widened with utter shock. His entire being just froze in place as he immediately realized just who she was.

"You...you're that vigilante..."

"Huh, surprised you still remember."

"You have a tendency to show up here from time to time...but the Pathfinder told everyone that you were dead..."

"What can I say? Too stubborn to die, I guess. But, uh...don't let anyone know about this, you got that? If I find out that the word's gone round, I'll neck you myself."

"R-Right."

"Good. Anything else you wanna tell me? Because I really gotta get going."

"...be careful. Things have gotten real bad ever since you...uhm, disappeared. I hope you can make something happen again. We've been losing hope for a while, and we need someone like you to make us believe again."

Those words seemed to have left quite the impression on Blake as she blankly stared at the impound driver for a brief moment before blinking her eyes and cracking a smile as she pulled her hood over her head once more.

"Hey. This time, I ain't going anywhere. It'll take some time, but I'll bring the gang down to their knees. I'll make sure of it. I think it's time I be more...proactive."

Giving the impound owner that sense of reassurance, she gave him a wink before powering on her newly-owned motorcycle, and after taking a second to hear that bike engine roar, she took a deep breath before drifting a full 180 degrees and bolting out of the impound and onto the road as she stormed down the horizon, intending on getting to Brightmoor as quickly as possible. As for the owner himself, all he could do was just stare at her as he watched her leave, and when she was inevitably out of sight, he looked up to the sky as he thought about the parting words that the vigilante had gave him before her departure. He looked to have mumbled to herself while he gazed upward.

"I hope you're right..."

-------------------------------------------

It did not take too long for the vigilante to get to where she needed to be, her intended destination being the neighborhood of Brightmoor - if anything, it only really took her about 30 minutes to reach the neighborhood's streets. It really should've been half that time, and the only reason why it took longer than usual was because of the Interstate being littered with roadblocks and obstacles scattered - the Pathfinder intended on making the road off-limits to everyone in order to contain everyone in one spot, but seeing how it was intensely difficult to actually patrol the roads and highways, they ultimately just decided on just making driving down these roads a complete chore.

Nevertheless, the vigilante was able to navigate her way around the many traps that littered the asphalt, and when she finally entered presumably safe ground, she quickly made her way towards Burgess Alley - the same road where an all too familiar bar was situated in. Getting herself from the start of the neighborhood all the way to the building barely took her five minutes as well, given how fast she was going. When she stopped herself in front of the bar, she took one good look through the window that was integrated at the upper part of the door to see what was going on there. Sure enough, the bar was open, and as expected, there was no one there. As much as she wanted to let out a sigh of relief, there was still something else that bothered her.

The bartender was nowhere to be found.

Needing to investigate for herself, she powered off her bike before getting off and heading inside the bar, pushing the door open. There was no music coming from the radio this time round, which meant that she could hear the irritating droning that came from the air-conditioning. While it was annoying, she knew she could just ignore it for the time being, knowing that she had other things to worry about right now. Deciding to go for a direct approach, she yelled out into the bar, hoping to get some form of attention.

"Hey! Is anybody here?! Come out if you are!"

When she was met with silence as a response, she let out a somewhat exasperated huff as she shook her head side to side. In reality, there was someone here other than Blake herself, but she definitely did not know that...yet. Finding herself clearly frustrated with the lack of response, she gritted her teeth, taking a deep breath for a brief moment before yelling out into the building once again, this time with a louder tone of voice.

"Anyone?! Hellooooooo?!"

This time, she finally got the response she was looking for, though it was not the response she was expecting. Suddenly, someone revealed themselves from underneath the bartender's table as they quickly c****d a revolver at her before demanding some instructions to be followed.

"Hands in the air. Now."

Blake, having caught by surprise, took a step back before raising her hands soon after as she stared at the person who threatened her, realizing just who they were in a matter of moments - Mexican handlebar, bartender suit...it was the bartender himself. She cracked a smile, undoubtedly filled with relief that he was doing okay. However, from the bartender's perspective, he had no idea who she was, and thus, he needed to treat her as a potential hostile. He looked to be slightly shaken by her voice, realizing that he sounded rather familiar...but he knew that it was unwise to jump into conclusions just yet.

"Who are you? The hell do you want here?"

"Jeez, is this how you greet your guests now? Kinda strange, but I guess I can dig it."

"I'm not here to entertain your foolishness. Just tell me who you are and no one gets hurt."

"I thought you already know who I am."

"Psh. I find it hard to believe that you're her. The Pathfinder already said that they killed her long ago. If you think you can act like a hero by masquerading as her, then you got another thing coming."

"Dude, there's only one me, and that's me."

"...take the hood down."

"Huh? Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Alright, suit yourself. Just don't keel over and die from a heart attack, alright?"

As she placed her hands on the sides of her hood, she stopped herself for a brief moment, displaying a bit of hesitance on her end - how was she going to explain this to the bartender? She knew that the only way to do so was to come clean, but at the same time, that would mean that he will know about what had happened to her. Finding herself cornered and with no other alternative, she let out a defeated sigh before pulling her hood down, revealing herself to the bartender. It only took him a split second for him to realize that she really was what she said she was. However, he quickly tried to snap himself out of his temporary stupor as he continued keeping his firearm on her.

"Is this supposed to be a trick?"

"...not really, ya old geezer. I'm me. I can only be me, you know."

"It...it's not possible...how are you still here...unless this is supposed to be a plot from those Pathfinder scum. How do I know if you're really the person who I remember?"

"Ask me...uh, almost anything. I've sort of lost some of my memory, so I can't really remember a lot...but I should be able to answer most of your questions about me."

"...favorite drink."

"Uh...I think it was Jack Daniels?"

"...where were you planning on going before you left the bar prior to your disappearance?"

"I was supposed to go to...uh...I think it was Warrendale or somewhere close to that..."

"Right...do you prefer to spare your targets or kill them?"

"I mean, I'd rather they don't stalk the streets, so yeah, I'd prefer to shoot them down. I feel obligated to do that to anyone involved with the Pathfinder, now that I think about it...but I'll just shrug that off for the time being."

"Like anybody?"

"What? I mean, no? Why would I want to like someone at the moment?"

Little by little, the bartender was starting to believe that the person he was talking to really was the vigilante that he remembered - however, he knew that he had to hit her with a definitive question that only the vigilante would ever know the answer to. And so, that question was posed to her.

"...why are you here? Why did you come back?"

"...I need to stop the Pathfinder for good. They've cursed me to a fate that no one should ever experience. And for that, they need to pay for what they've done...I'm going to put anyone who ever wears an animal mask into the ground."

After such a passionate reply was given by the vigilante, the bartender stares at her for a moment before blinking his eyes and letting out a sigh as he brought his firearm down.

"f*****g hell..."

"Good to see you again, geezer. Told you that you'd be surprised by what you saw."

"How are you still here? The Pathfinder said that you were dead..."

"Don't believe everything you're told. These guys are out to crush hopes anyway. Yeah, I got beaten close to death, but I managed to persevere and keep myself alive. Don't ask how. Anyways, I'm here. I'm assuming a lot has changed ever since I went MIA?"

"Ever since they proclaimed you dead, they've been really ramping up their efforts to keep the city further entrenched in their influence. I'm not sure about what's going on in the other neighborhoods, but a few insiders have already told me that production for weapons has increased, and people are starting to get kidn*pped to be conscripted into the Pathfinder. I don't know who's spearheading these acts, but I guess that is up to you to figure out. What I AM certain of, however, is that the drugs have been running more rampant than before. I know for a fact that the source of drugs has to be here in Brightmoor, since I've been seeing a lot of exchanges here lately. Exchanges of drugs, I mean."

"Damn, so long story short, all my efforts have been for nothing, huh?"

"Unfortunately, that seems to be the case."

"A new challenge...I like it! I think I'll be staying here for a while - I think it's time I change things up a bit. Rather than having to constantly jump around, I'll just stick to one spot and cripple their resources one by one."

"Well, if you are planning on staying in the neighborhood, I advise caution. The gang still thinks you are dead, so it is best for you to find a way to keep your identity shrouded."

"I'll figure that out later. For now, though...I need to think of a way to deal with the drug problem here. You think you can help me out by making this place a temporary base of operations? At least until this whole mess is over."

"Heh...anything for my regulars, friend. I still need customers here, though. Just remember that."

"Don't worry about that. I'll take a few days to scout the place and find any kind of suspicious activity."

"Very well. In that case, stay alert. Who knows what new dangers may lurk around these streets nowadays."

"Trust me, I'll be fine! I've been through way worse, after all. Besides, they can beat me up until every bone in my body breaks, and I'd still find a way to get myself back up! Anyways, I gotta get going. I'll be back in a few hours."

Before the bartender could even say anything to her, Blake was already out the door as she got on her motorcycle and made her move - she really was bent on recovering the progress that she had lost. As the bartender blankly stared in front of her, his eyes lowered a little as he cracked a smile before a thought came to his head while he stood there, reflecting on what had happened.

"Well, you certainly are still stubborn as a mule...but that might be me mistaking it for insistence."