The Second Layer

Chapter 7: Ryan

It was probably best that he find him, and not the Department. The Department wasn't ready to deal with someone like him. Hell, Ryan wasn't even quite sure how he himself would deal with him. He remembered the glowing eyes, how fast the man had moved, the way the gunshot wounds had just disappeared. He'd tried to convince himself a few times that it had just been the concussion, that his memories really had been distorted, but the more he thought about it the more convinced he became that he was certain of what he'd seen. And if he tried to tell the Department, no one would believe him, so it was up to him. He might not be sure how he was going to deal with the man, when he found him, but at least he was prepared for what the man might be capable of.

Just over ten minutes later he pulled up near the meeting place. Parking the car and turning off the engine, he slipped out and strode towards the alleyway where he knew his informant would be waiting. As a homicide detective, he didn't really have much use for informants himself, but this particular informant often gave information that Ryan could pass onto Vice. And Ryan was the only person the informant would talk to, so it had to stay that way. Besides, the guy had offered up info a couple times that had given Ryan leads on some gang murders, so Ryan had an excuse to give whenever the Vice guys wanted the informant for themselves. Ryan was here now because he figured this particular informant was the person most likely to be able to answer the question that most plagued him.

As he stepped into the alleyway itself, a voice spoke up from the shadows. "You're late."

"Two minutes, so sue me," Ryan replied, just watching as the boy stepped out of the shadows. Ronald Kaven, better known on the streets as Rake, a member of the 5th Street Blades. He'd been an informant ever since Ryan had saved his life during a gang shootout. Since Rake hadn't actually fired a shot himself, they'd had nothing to arrest him on, however Ryan had been able to get him to turn in some information on a couple other gangs. That had been two years ago, and he'd been an informant ever since. He was only willing to give up info about the city's other gangs though, and never his own. Still, he'd provided a lot of useful tips over that time. The only downside was they had no choice but to meet in places like this. If anyone on the streets found out that Rake was talking to a cop, he wouldn't be safe even from the other members of his own gang.

"With your salary? Not worth it," Rake said with a smirk, leaning up against a wall. "So why'd you call me out here?"

"I've got some questions I need to ask you," Ryan told him.

Rake just gave a shrug. "So ask."

"I know you know a lot about this city, about the stuff that goes on in it. Things you don't even tell me. I need to know if you've ever heard anything about a guy or people who can... Do things that no person should be able to do. Who are faster and stronger than any human has a right to be," Ryan stated.

"What the hell are you talking about, man? Are you going crazy on me or something?" Rake demanded.

"I'm serious. A few days ago I came across someone who... Well, it sounds nuts to call the guy superhuman, but that's precisely what he was, superhuman. I shot him six times and it didn't even faze him. He threw me across a room like it was nothing. And since I'm sure it wasn't drugs, that leaves me out of explanations for what happened. So I want to know, what is he?" Ryan asked.

"So what, you think there's vampires or werewolves or something on the loose now? You're losing it, man. I don't know what you're talking about, and I'm not going to waste my time on this," Rake replied, but there was a tone to his voice that Ryan had heard before. Rake tried to brush past him, but Ryan simply laid a hand on his chest and shoved him back up against the wall.

"You should know by now that I don't like being lied to, Ronald. I know when you're lying, and when you're hiding something. So stop trying to bullshit me. I was at my fiancee's funeral yesterday. The woman I love is dead because that bastard killed her. So you are going to tell me everything that you know, or," Ryan trailed off, unable to believe what he was about to say, but just not caring anymore. "Or I'm going to start letting it leak to the streets just where I've been getting my information."

Rake just glared at him for several seconds before finally speaking. "You want me dead? Is that it? Because if that's what you want, you might as well pull out your gun and shoot me now. You know damn well if the Blades find out I've talked to you, they'll do a lot worse before they kill me."

"No. I want the bastard who killed my fiancee. And if you know something, and you're not telling me, then you're standing directly in the way of that. Trust me when I say you don't want to get between me and him," Ryan told him firmly.

"And if I talk, I'm still fucked. Look, I don't know much. All that I've heard is rumors. But what I do know is that people who've gone around talking about this sort of thing either disappear or wind up dead. Including the person who told me. If I talk about it, I'm probably next," Rake responded.

"And if you don't talk about it, you're dead anyways," Ryan threatened.

There was a long hesitation as Rake just studied him. Finally he just shook his head slightly. "Fine, but after this I never want to hear from you again. After tonight I'm done talking, understand? Anyways, do you remember that thing a few months back at the Whitmore warehouse?"

"Eight guys dead from the 86'ers and the South Side Vipers. The two groups killed each other, one survivor ran off who we could never find. The two gangs have been at each other's throats ever since," Ryan recounted from memory.

"Yeah, because most of the Vipers and the 86th Street assholes bought into the cops' story about what happened there. Both gangs seem to have assumed your mysterious survivor belonged to the other gang, and neither believes the other when they say he's not one of theirs. But what I heard was that the survivor you guys were looking for was the one that killed all eight of them. That he wasn't a member of either gang at all. That he was able to take on all eight of them without breaking a sweat. That he got stabbed, even shot, and just kept going like it didn't even matter. See, there was a witness there who got away, one you guys apparently never even knew about. That witness was the first to disappear, after talking about what happened," Rake said in a flat tone.

"This guy, the one who killed the eight of them. The real murderer. I need his name," Ryan demanded.

"I don't know it. All I know is a word. Freak. The way I heard it, before the guy killed the others, he referred to himself as a freak. That's all I know," Rake said.

"You've never heard of any other incidents involving this guy, or of anyone else who can do that sort of thing?" Ryan pressed.

"No, I swear. To be honest, I wouldn't have even believed the rumors if it wasn't for the people disappearing. And even then, it still seemed nuts until you showed up. For a cop to believe in this sort of thing... Well, whatever's going on, I'd sooner just forget about it and hope that I'm not the next one to disappear. So, are we done?" Rake asked. Every instinct Ryan had told him that this time at least the kid was being truthful.

"Yeah, we're done," Ryan told him, before stepping to the side and out of his way. Rake just walked past him and took off down the sidewalk without so much as a backward glance. As Ryan turned back towards his car, he already knew his next move.