103.

  "Look at what we have here," one of the goons said. "Nice little date night, is it, children?"

  The four of them had surrounded us on the bridge, trapping us in the middle. My pulse raced, the instinct to attack immediately clouded my mind. First, the one with the blade. If I could kick him in the gut, I might send him over the side of the bridge into the river, eliminating him before the others could react. Then a Zap Knuck to the one next to him, and then…. I remembered I didn't have any Zap Knucks. I didn't have Grandad's bat or carapace armour to protect me from being stabbed. Instead, I was just plain old vanilla Alex with a couple of pennies of loose change in my pocket and a very frightened Marilyn with me.

  "What do you want?" Marilyn snapped at them, though she couldn’t hide the quiver in her voice.

  "Oh, straight to business, I like it, love," the one with the blade said, and the other three snickered. "Well, how's about everything you've got on you first, and then we'll see where we go from there.”

  My mouth had gone dry as I stared at the goons, I felt like an attack dog on a short leash.

  "What the fuck are you looking at, you little dweeb?" spat one of the others, getting in my face. I stared back at him, and he grabbed me by the shirt. I raised my fist, but then Marilyn cried out.

  "Alex, no!" She jumped between us, forcing me and the goon apart. "Leave him alone," she said, and the four goons began sniggering.

  "Really, mate? Your girlfriend's gonna protect you?”

  "I don't need protecting," I growled, my fist clenched so hard that they were shaking, but what could I do? I could maybe make a fight of it, but I had no idea if the other three were armed, and I'd learned by now that you can get stabbed in the blink of an eye, and it only takes one knife wound to put a man down. Plus, I had Marilyn to think about. The reality that it was highly unlikely I could fight the four of them as I was, sunk in. And a part of me didn’t even want to fight them.

  "Just do as they say, Alex," Marilyn said to me quickly as she opened her bag to take out her purse, and the goon snatched it from her. I took a step forward, and one of them grabbed me from behind, pulling me backwards and then wrapping his forearm around my throat.

  "Let him go!" Marilyn screamed, clawing at his arm, only to be yanked off by one of the others. I struggled, but his grip was too tight. I raised my foot, ready to slam my heel into his kneecap and possibly break his leg, but then I stopped. If I started the fight, I wouldn’t be able to end it, and I would just get myself, and even worse, Marilyn hurt. So I let them frisk me, pat down my pockets, and pull the pennies from them. The goon's lip curled in disgust as he looked at my loose change.

  "Is that it?" he spat at me. I couldn't reply since the other one had his forearm jammed against my throat.

  "At least this bitch has got something," said the one who had snatched Marilyn’s bag. He fished through it and pulled her wallet out. Marilyn stood there looking down at the floor. She knew the protocol: it wasn’t the first time she’d been mugged, and the worst thing you could do was resist or give them a reason to hurt you. They pawed through the rest of her bag, taking whatever they wanted, then threw it on the floor. The goon holding me around the neck let go and pushed me roughly from behind.

  "Don’t you know where you are?" Marilyn said as she caught me and stopped me from falling over. "This is the Mulberry Estate, and we're protected."

  "Oh," said the one with the blade nastily. "And who's protecting you, love?”

  "The Gutter Mage," Marilyn said, and the four of them, I noticed, shifted uneasily at this name.

  "Ain’t no such thing as a Gutter Mage, you stupid cow," the thug with the blade spat at her, "and even if there was, he ain’t around now. No one’s seen him in months. The estate’s wide open, and the Blood Brothers are moving in. Don’t you forget the name, the Blood Brothers.”

  I hadn't heard that gang name before, but now that the Syndicate was gone, I imagined there were probably a whole bunch of splintered little groups appearing here and there. But for them to so brazenly come back to the Mulberry after only a couple of months since the Syndicate was disbanded boggled my mind. I stared with my jaw clenched as one of them kicked Marilyn's bag back at her.

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  "Fucking bums," he said nastily. "Pretty little tart like you should be able to at least earn a decent little bit of coin on the corner, no?"

  "What did you say?" I snarled, stepping forward, and then one of the goons blindsided me and headbutted me straight in the nose. I staggered and fell hard. Marilyn leaped in front of me, shielding me with her body as the other three circled, ready to get some kicks and possibly stabs in.

  "Just take whatever you want, just leave us alone, please," Marilyn said. "Just don’t.”

  Blood was pouring down my lips, my eyes were watering, but I didn’t feel the pain. I just felt shame burning me. My hands clenched into fists, and the urge to leap into the fray was almost too strong to ignore. If it wasn’t for Marilyn’s body draped across mine, I would have thrown myself at them, consequences be damned. Instead, I just sat there like a useless lump, bleeding whilst a girl protected me with her own body. One of the goons spat on the floor by my foot, and walked away, their hands tucked in their pockets, their laughter echoing in the darkness.

  "Alex, Alex," Marilyn said to me quickly as they left. "Are you okay? You’re bleeding.”

  I wiped the blood from my top lip with my formerly crisp white shirt and looked down at the bright red stain.

  "I’m okay," I said gruffly. "I’m fine.”

  *

  I dropped Marilyn off quickly, barely saying a word of goodbye. She insisted I come in and that she'd tend to my bleeding nose, but I just shook my head and walked away. Anger frothed inside me, shame burned in my chest, and the need to commit sudden and brutal violence consumed me. How dare they? How dare they put their hands on me? How dare they call Marilyn such vile things? How the fuck did they think they could come on to my estate and hurt people? I'll show them. I'll show them who they're fucking with.

  Then, as the thoughts coiled around my mind of tracking them down and committing violence that would have them quivering at my feet in a bloody mess, I caught myself and stopped. I wiped blood from my nose again and looked down at it. I couldn't. All that awaited me was more blood. If I did all the things I wanted to, I would be throwing myself right back into it.

  I reached into my pocket for the acceptance letter and realised it was gone. They must have pulled it out and discarded it like trash when they were frisking through my pockets. I clenched my jaw and my fists until my shoulders shook. How could it have started again so quickly? We'd actually let ourselves believe that the Mulberry Estate was safe now. I'd let myself believe that the Gutter Mage's legacy would be enough to keep the estate safe. I’d actually thought I’d done something positive, and now these thugs were already moving back in. What did they call themselves? The Blood Brothers. And they said they were taking back the Mulberry Estate.

  Of course they were. The Mulberry Estate was prime drug territory, and with Brick gone, it was wide open. Of course somebody was going to move in. How long would the shadow of the Gutter Mage keep their greed at bay? Well, two months apparently. But what could I do? I wasn't the Gutter Mage anymore. I was just Alex, and Alex apparently let his friends get mugged and didn't do anything about it.

  My feet had taken me home while I was lost in thought. I was so deep in my own mind that I didn't even feel the usual fear I had when entering my home. I slammed my bedroom door shut behind me and didn't even lock it before sitting down on my bed and cradling my head in my hands. Maybe they were just a little group of nobodies talking big. That could be a possibility. They could just be some losers from the estate trying to make a quick buck by robbing a few people. Or they could be part of a larger gang that was beginning to move in on the Mulberry and take it back to the bad old days.

  Could I let that happen? Would it be wrong of me if I just sat back and watched the estate descend back into violence and chaos? I pictured all the good people of the estate who'd found so much peace and happiness in the last couple of months: the kids that were playing, the parents that didn't have to keep looking outside the window to make sure they were safe, the elderly folk sunning themselves in their front gardens. People like me who could just go about their day, walk to work, and come back without being worried about being chased, beaten, or robbed. What happened to those people if I just sat back and did nothing?

  These questions rolled around and around in my mind until I realized that there was no way I would find answers if I didn't go looking. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of my cupboard, staring at my black clothes. I didn't have any of my Mage gear, but I had plenty of black clothing and a scarf to cover my face. I could just go out and have a look, see if they were who they said they were.

  That's all I was doing, just making sure. And if they were just a little gang of nobodies, then so be it. People got robbed all the time on the Mulberry. It wasn't a big deal. But I just had to make sure. As I pulled on my black hoodie and wrapped the scarf around my face, I kept telling myself that's all I was doing. I just needed to check. I just needed to make sure. Just a bit of reconnaissance, no violence.

  I was just going to have a look. Where was the harm in that?