Editing Thicker Than Blood (section)

=Sax and Violins=

A cool, early October night. Rain like a fine mist falls through the thick fog, making everything dark and damp; staining the rough concrete into black basalt pillars and making every streetlight a yellow beacon that distorts the wet stone with veins of amber light. The soft patter of water droplets against the deep green foliage and trickle of the runoff into the gutters is like a soft play of symphonic violins and percussion to the build up of some natural opus. Mozart, symphony 10 in G, reverberates softly in my skull while I wait against the alley wall and sip my tall soycaf with extra shot. A perfect Seattle night.

When the gun fire begins I hardly notice, playing sweetly against the victorious strings of the second movement. Hard Exit and his new elf friend have obviously gone from the quiet way to the loud way coming out of the building; which is my cue, but not before I finish my caf or they signal me. I pull off my hood and roll my neck in the refreshing coolness of the night before switching on my wired reflexes and unbutton my jacket, then watch as the world slows down to a crawl and I turn up the speed of the music to keep up with my new perspective. 

Exit's hand cannon blares as I hear the front door around the corner wheeze slightly against it's hydraulics. I can hear his heart pounding in my augmented ears between the crack of his gun and casings twinkling on the street, an opera of street chaos mingles with the rain and the music being played directly into my cerebral cortex. The immensity of his troll shadow blots out the streetlight as I take a last sip of my caf, and he sprints past ponderously holding the limp body of the daisyeating hacker. I wonder off hand if they managed to get the paydata before she got greased and hear the low, bass rumble of Exit yelling for me to help him as he glides by in slow motion.

The empty soycaf cup drops into the recycling bin next to me as I switch to my jazz station and stroll to the edge of the alley, wild erratic saxophone and drum beats exploding suddenly into my brain. I feel the familiar slide of steel as I unsheath my katana and cross hairs ignite like fire in my vision as my left hand brings my pistol into view. Music throbs and whines as I step smoothly around the corner between Exit and his pursuers. Another perfect Seattle night.