106.

  The next night, I was back out on the rooftops. It surprised me how naturally I had slipped back into my old routine. I'd slept most of the day away and woke up to several missed calls and messages from Marilyn checking up on me. I assured her I was fine and hoped she was too, then put my wrist pod away and ignored the responses.

  I was suddenly busy again. Sherbet's information ran round and round in my head. I couldn't stop rolling over the idea that there were four different gangs of yobs prowling around the edges of the Mulberry Estate like hyenas after a wounded lion, just waiting to sink their teeth in and rip it apart. Even scarier was the idea that these lowlifes were teenagers armed with machine guns. When bullets start flying, someone innocent always gets hurt. Some normal person going about their life would get caught in the crossfire and have their entire existence snuffed out while they were doing something mundane like popping to the shops for a pint of milk. I couldn't let that happen. But what was I supposed to do?

  The urge to go full Gutter Mage came over me, but I resisted it again. Even as I walked away from Sherbet, I had to clench my teeth so hard I heard the enamel pop, to stop myself from turning around and asking for my gear. A part of me had hoped he'd thrown it in the river or something, but clearly, the big man had too much respect for the Gutter Mage and had kept it safe somewhere. But there it would remain. I wouldn't go back. I wouldn't invite violence and chaos back into my life, and I wouldn't do harm to others anymore.

  So instead, I geared up very lightly. Knowing that they had weapons that could cause horrific damage in seconds, I knew I couldn't just go out completely empty-handed. I decided to take a few of my new gadgets with me, including my as-yet-untested Jet Boots. Annoyingly, I'd only chosen bright-coloured boots to experiment on, so I was decked out in all black with a pair of sandy yellow boots that were a size too big for me. I pocketed a few more quick gadgets, and then I thought about it and picked up a pair of spare MMA gloves. These had no runes or charms on them, but they might be necessary, even though I hoped they wouldn't be.

  I was back out into the darkness of night, and it felt good to have a purpose again, even if it was just for a single night. I needed to find out what was going on, where these gangs were, and how far into the estate they had infiltrated. The way the Blood Brothers had been behaving yesterday didn't feel like they were brazenly taking over. They seemed to be more on a sneaky infiltration, and perhaps I could stop them before they got too bold. Maybe just an appearance from the Gutter Mage would be enough to drive them away, a reminder of what happens when you mess with the Mulberry.

  But if I could, I would just watch. Maybe I could gather evidence and send it to the police, let them do their job for a change. Although I knew that was a long shot. The police didn't really care about thugs dealing drugs, but maybe if I could get evidence of the submachine guns, they might be forced into action. Even in the boroughs of New London, the police didn't like shootings.

  I already knew where I'd find the Blood Brothers. Before long, I was back on the Toxton Estate, watching their building. I didn't want to risk climbing the building and looking into the window again. It was too early in the night; people would still be coming home or even just looking out of their windows. They would see me up there. It was too risky. So instead, I secreted myself in the darkness and watched the building, hoping to follow them out and see if they were going back into the Mulberry Estate. I had seen half a dozen people in red hoodies go into the building so far. I'd waited in the cold for over an hour, and they hadn't left yet, which was curious. Surely, they had drugs to sell. They couldn't spend the whole night in the flat, could they?

  After another twenty minutes, I saw a car pull up out of the darkness. It was one of those big black European cars that the Syndicate loved to drive around in, with tinted windows. I pressed myself further into the darkness and watched. Three of the car doors opened, while the driver remained in the car. The two closest to me looked like serious thugs, but it was the one who got out of the driver's side passenger seat that caught my attention. He was a bald-headed man in a faded green military bomber jacket. I knew him. I couldn't remember his name, but I recognised that face from around the table in that meeting with Brick back in the warehouse. He was one of Brick's associates, and if I remembered correctly, he was the one that dealt with the street gangs. Was it Danny or something like that, maybe?

  The two goons with him carried heavy black duffel bags, and I didn't need to hear the distinctive clink of metal to know those bags were filled with nothing good. The bald-headed one strode straight for the flat door and pulled it open, walking up as if he'd been there a hundred times before. I watched their shadowed forms climb the stairwell, and they stopped at the third floor. What the hell was going on? That guy was one of Brick’s lieutenants. Brick was gone, so who was he still working for? Was he the one supplying the guns?

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  After only a few minutes, the men came back down from the flat. The duffel bags were gone and were replaced with a black rucksack I assumed was stuffed with dirty money. They got back in the car and drove off only a few minutes after they had arrived. I watched them go and noted down the number plate, then looked back up at the flat. Why the hell would one of Brick’s lieutenants be doing street deals with some punks from the Toxton estate? Was it simply business, selling to whoever had cash, or was it something more, something sinister?

  After about five or six more minutes, the Blood Brothers appeared, all dressed in red, carrying several bags between them. They got on motorcycles, the small, disgustingly noisy type, two to a bike, and took off. I noticed on each bike the passenger carried a black rucksack. So was that what they were doing now? Splitting up, selling their drugs, trying to move around unnoticed? There was no way I could chase down a motorcycle, especially without any gear, but it was a good opportunity to try out my boots.

  I waited for them to zip past and then ran out of cover. I sprinted down the road through the winding pass back towards the Mulberry estate. As I reached the familiar seven-story yellow bricks, I looked up at the fire escape, and then stretched my neck. I'd practiced a few times, so I was fairly confident that this might work, but then I hadn't had a chance to try out the new and improved Shockwave Rune, so this could also go horribly wrong. I took a steadying breath, pushed away the image of both my feet being blown off, and channeled my energies straight down into the soles of my feet. I felt the buzz of the power building and then I tapped my heels against the floor.

  There was a whoosh of power, and suddenly I found myself being propelled way higher in the air than I intended. My body rag-dolled for a second, my arms windmilled wildly, and I found myself twenty feet in the air. I screamed in sudden panic, realising that I'd gone straight up with zero forward momentum. I flapped my arms and instinctively shot out my left one, as if I had my Grapple Cord attached, but I didn't, and I began plummeting. Fortunately, there was a small arc to my fall. I'd gone high enough that that forward movement drew me close enough to the fire escape that I clattered, stomach first, into the railing. I went rolling over it, making a horrendous noise as I landed. I lay there wheezing, feeling like I had just driven my guts up through my mouth.

  It took me nearly five minutes to right myself and make sure that I hadn't caused any gruesome internal injuries. I staggered to my feet, looked down at the boots, and then down at the floor where I had been only seconds before. Well, they worked at least. They almost worked too well, and as I limped up the fire escape, I realised that was probably my fault. I probably channeled too much energy into them and shot myself off like a cork out of a champagne bottle. I definitely needed to practice, and I got plenty of it as I traversed the rooftops searching for the Blood Brothers. I practiced sending a small amount of force through the Jet Boots, and I began to figure them out quite quickly. They were rather intuitive, and suddenly I was able to bounce between buildings.

  It wasn't particularly graceful, and the landings jarred my knees and hips badly. I made a mental note to find a way of landing better, but I was gaining more confidence with them when I finally came across a pair of Blood Brothers. They were hanging around by an underpass, and I caught up to them just in time to see them serving an addict. She was an old woman, wiry-haired and dirty-looking, who simultaneously looked as if she had just woken up and hadn't slept in weeks. She shambled forward, and there was more conversation than usual in one of these drug deals. Usually, the addict just handed over their money and was given their drugs with very little conversation, but the Blood Brothers and the drug addict were going back and forth; they seemed to be arguing about something.

  I crept a little closer to the lip of the roof and looked down.

  "You fucking old hag," one of them spat at her, "you still owe us 40 from last time, and you're trying to get more.”

  "I don't owe you nothing," the old woman spat back at him. "I paid. I paid the other fella, what's his name? Timmy? Tommy? Ask him, I paid him.”

  "Who the fuck's Tommy?" the other Blood Brother said. "Listen, you best give us our fucking money now, otherwise I'll cut you, you dirty old bitch." A straight razor flashed in his hand.

  “I don’t owe nuffin!” she screeched. “You’re tryna rip me off!”

  “Give us what you owe!”

  “I’ve paid!”

  The old woman screeched and then lunged for the drugs. The two of them began tussling. The other Blood Brother swung a vicious punch at the side of her head. The old woman cried out and stumbled before having her feet kicked out from beneath her.

  "You dirty old skank!" the one with the blade said. "I'm gonna open you up like a tin of beans!" He raised the blade and reached down to grab her.

  Shit!