Oceanside Part 2: Temptation

Keith felt hands all over his body, pressing, pushing him like he was a piece of meat being inspected. A rope wrapped around his neck and then it was gone. He couldn’t move or wake up but he was somehow aware of things around him, voices speaking in calm tones, music in the background, always seemed like there was music.

There was a moment where he felt fully lucid but he couldn’t move his body, he felt restrained, a man kneeling over him staring him in the eyes and then darkness fell over him yet again, he was back in the dream world, random notes of a song, voices, weightlessness, drifting away from reality.

He felt the press of a woman’s lips upon his and he started to stir. His mind tried to figure out if it was real or just another part of the dream. The kiss then turned into a woman laying on top of him, her naked body pressing against his. Keith didn’t remember being naked or being in a bed, his mind started trying to piece together the puzzle.

She felt so good laying on top of him, so soft and warm, her perfume was light but a scent of lavender that drove him crazy. Is this real? His mind kept trying to figure it out. Another kiss, another touch. Is this real?

She initiated the sex and he groaned in agreement as his head lolled back into the pillow. Is this real? The question was now more of an excuse, a way to avoid having to answer questions that he didn’t want to deal with. He hadn’t been with a woman in nearly a decade, getting old and fighting crime makes it hard to get with the ladies and Keith never made time to try to get into bed with them. He’d forgotten how good it felt to be with one, to just fuck a woman for the sake of your own pleasure.

Is this real? Of course it was real, he felt her breath on his face her hands pressing on his face, her hips pushing onto him again and again, it was very real and it was obvious what was happening. He was in this room because Doc had put him here, this girl had been sent by Doc to fuck him, to show him the good life he could have if he’d just sell out and join Doc. Everything about this was a set-up, he hated every bit of him.

But none of that was going to stop him from finishing, he’d gone way too far to not gratify himself with that pleasure. When it hit him it was a feeling beyond any he’d had in ages, yet in the moments after he resented himself for giving in to the sex. Doc had won and he knew it.

“They said you’re an old man, you don’t look old, you sure don’t fuck old.” The girl said as she laid on top of him. Keith didn’t reply, he faked being asleep as laid beneath her. “I knock you out gramps?” she asked him playfully while she lightly slapped his cheek. “Good to know my sex is as powerful as that cattle prod Doc carries around.”

          The girl left the bed and hit the shower. Keith stared at the ceiling as he tried to figure out what exactly was he going to do. Being naked was a big problem since he couldn’t just storm out of the room and start hunting down Doc to get his revenge. He hoped the girl would leave after her shower and give him some time to think by himself.

          The water in the shower stopped and after a few minutes she returned to the room with a phone in her hand. “Yeah he’s sleeping, yeah we fucked. Oh come on don’t act so surprised, nobody can resist me.” She told the other person on the phone, a person Keith assumed to be Doc. In the darkness of the room he could make out her body, she was thin with not much of an ass but in profile she clearly had an amazing pair of tits. Bee stung lips and short dyed red hair completed the package of a woman who men would kill each other for the right to be with.

          “He could be faking being asleep but I’m not messing with him. You said he could crush my skull like a grape if he was angry, so no thanks. I did my job, you can call the phone and leave him a message. I got yoga class in fifteen minutes so I got to get moving.” She said as she hung up the phone. He saw her pull out a piece of paper and write something on it and then she was gone.

          Keith waited for a couple minutes, then he heard a phone ring in the closet next to the bed, he waited for the ringing to stop and then finally he pulled himself into a seated position on the bed. His whole body felt tired, like he’d just spend the last four hours lifting weights. He had no idea how long he’d been out cold, how many drugs had been pumped into his system. With more effort than he’d care to admit he got to his feet and walked over to the closet.

          He opened the closet door and was amazed at how big it was, practically the size of a small room and filled with clothes. In the middle of the room was a small table with three bricks of hundred dollar bills and a cell phone that had “One new voicemail” on the display. Keith grabbed the phone and called the voice mail.

          “I thought you would be too uptight to fuck Maggie but she is quite the sexy little thing. Good on you for having a taste of the finer things in life. In this closet is a wardrobe all for you my good friend. Everything tailored to your body, which must be a real bitch to find good fitting clothes for given how barrel chested you are, my men put together a fine collection of outfits for you. We even have a bunch of your masks in the boxes at your feet. More breathable, more visibility then that old piece of shit you were wearing.”

          Keith paused the message, exactly who the fuck was this Doc character? He felt like he was fighting the devil himself and that this was a battle for his soul. Why didn’t this guy just kill him when he had the chance, why give him all this?

          He hit the button and turned the message back on. “Take anything and everything you want from here. Enjoy it, look good, have some money, enjoy your life. Quit gunning down drug dealers in the shitty parts of town. Let me reward you for your four decades of protecting Oceanside, and let me protect this city now. Keep this phone, call me when you’re ready to talk.” With that the message ended.

          Keith pulled out the new masks and slid one on and damn if it wasn’t as Doc said it would be. He practically didn’t even feel it on his face as he wore it. The pants and shirts also were perfect fits. He took the pile of money stuffed it in his pockets. A little of it would go to fund his purchase of a new gun, most of it would be given to a local homeless shelter, he’d never really cared about money and felt like he could resist that temptation.

          Yet as he walked towards the door of the hotel room he felt doubt creeping in. He’d already given into sex, he was already wearing the clothes Doc gave him, why wouldn’t he spend Doc’s money and live the good life, why wouldn’t he sell out?

          He shook his head, he needed to hit the pavement and start getting some answers on who Doc really was and what he was up against. Right as he opened the door he turned and saw the paper Maggie had written on, it was a business card. “Maggie Mall, photographer.” It read, he filled it over and saw on the back the message “Call me, I’ll give you one night free.” And a number. Keith winced, part of his mind wanted to rip the card up then and there and be rid of her.

          The card went into his pocket. He knew he wanted to get laid again soon, but first he had to get some answers. 

Oceanside Part 1: Meeting Doc

“You’re only about four blocks away from the abandoned warehouse on Grier Street. Swing on by and we’ll get you trending on Twitter.” The voice told him before hanging up. Keith shattered his phone in his hand, somebody had gotten ahold of his information and was trying to threaten him. As the shards of his smart phone began hitting the pavement he started running through a list of people who had his number and how they could have been got to.

                The mask slid over his face as it has thousands of times before. In that moment he went from being just another man walking on a street to the protector of the city of Oceanside. Keith dropped into a deep squat as he fought to calm his mind. The soreness in his body begged him not to go forward, to wait for a better time to go after whoever it was that had made this call. A series of deep breaths still didn’t convince him to get up and walk towards the warehouse.

                Finally he pulled himself up and walked the final block. The shattered windows and colorful graffiti tags made it clear nobody had occupied the building for legitimate reasons for years. It was the type of place that existed for homeless squatters to find warm and for criminal scumbags to find cover from the law. Keith hoped it wasn’t the place where an asshole killed a hero.

                “I’m not going to die in this shithole.” Keith muttered under his breath. He steeled himself and walked to the knocked down front door of the building and stepped inside. The place was practically pitch black but he could make out lights in the distance to his left. The walk towards those lights revealed a man in an all-white suit, even white dress shoes. Two bound and gagged men were sitting on the ground beside him. Keith scanned the area for threats in the darkness. He could see a man hiding in the shadows to his right and there was a catwalk above him but no signs of anyone there.

                “You made it. That’s just great.” The man began his speech. Assholes like him always had speeches to give. Keith debated drawing his Glock 22 and just emptying the clip into him right there and then and being done with it, but out of professional courtesy to the criminal underworld he stayed his hand.

                “You’re the Ghost of Oceanside. Or the Oceanside Savior. You’ve got many names, but the one thing that’s certain is that you’ve been doing this for forty years. Which means that either there is a team of you and the mask is being passed around by a gang of do-gooders, which I doubt very much.  Or, and this is the option I’m banking on. You’re old as fuck now.”

                Keith fought to keep his shoulders from sagging. He suppressed the urge to take a deep breath. He never showed weakness in confrontations like this but having somebody call him out for his age and knowing they were right hurt. It had been long time since somebody had gone after him rather than just viewed him as a problem to be dealt with while they did their crimes.  Everything about the situation was bad and it felt like it would get worse.

                “So look pops, I want to make this easy on you. These two men here.” The man gestured to bound and gagged men on the floor beside him. “They fucked me over. Supposed to do a job for me and they screwed it up. You put one in the dome of each of them and I’ll bring over a suitcase full of cocaine and it’ll look like you cleaned up a drug deal and put two pushers out of business. The local press will love it. Your brand of extrajudicial violence will be back in fashion.”

                Keith squinted as the man paced back and forth as he spoke. “I want you on the payroll. I want you to be the velvet glove that holds my iron fist. You will be the public face of my wrath, all the other criminals who fuck with me, who try to take business away from me on my turf. I’ll put them up on a tee for you to blow away. I bet you’re asking what’s in it for you. Well lots of money. I got more than I know what to do with. You’ve been fighting crime for all these years and what has it ever gotten you? I’ll make you rich beyond your dreams.”

                The man turned on his heels and stopped walking. “The other thing is that if you refuse. I will kill you.”

                Keith let the silence hold, he wanted to see if the man would get nervous from the quiet or if he’d start barking demands at him. Keith seethed as the asshole remained cool and composed the whole time, his brown eyes calming holding his stare upon Keith’s masked face.

                “Why shouldn’t I just blow you away right now?” Keith asked him. Keith slowly started to reach for his Glock.

                The man flashed a wide smile. “First of all I’m sorry. I’ve been quite rude this whole time. My name is Patrick Silver, but everyone calls me Doc. Second of all if you even flinch to hard my good friend James Garfield up there will put a .50 caliber bullet in your back. I know bullets have a tough time getting through that flesh of yours, but I’m thinking a high powered rifle and a big bullet will do the trick.”

                “Bullshit, there’s nobody up there.” Keith snapped back at him.

                Doc pointed to one of the two men on the ground and a moment later the man’s head violently exploded. A horrible spray of gore erupted from the man’s head with a large amount of blood, brain and skull fragments landing on Doc’s suit. The still living man began frantically wimpering and thrashing as the blood began to pool around him from the head of the other man.

                Keith quickly looked up at the catwalk and now he saw the metal plates that had composed the sniper’s nest the man was hiding behind. He couldn’t believe he’d missed it before and his uncertainty about things made him feel his heart rate elevate. It had been years since he’d felt panic or nerves and now it was all bubbling up. He was grateful that the mask kept his face hidden as he could feel the warmth of his skin and knew his face was reddening.

                “That’ll cost a few bucks for the dry cleaning.” Doc said with a smile. “Named for a fallen president, obsessed with the death of another, James is an odd man, but he’s a great shot. He likes taping the shootings.” Doc said as he pointed to a clunky box of a camera on a tripod nearby. “It’s the same camera type as the one that filmed the shooting of JFK. He’s going to go home and watch how this guy’s head exploded and compare and contrast it with that Catholic fuck. He’s like those 9/11 truthers only about JFK. A JFK truther I guess.”

                “You mean he’s a conspiracy buff.” Keith replied.

                Doc paused as if he’d never heard the words before. “I like JFK truther better.” He looked at Keith for a moment. “So you taking the deal? Can I make you rich? I really want to make you rich.” He said. Keith could tell there was a bit of a pleading tone to Doc’s demand.

                Keith wondered if he had a choice in the matter. He knew that he didn’t trust Doc and that the offer he was giving him sounded preposterous, but the real question was, could he refuse it? “I don’t trust you.” Keith said. “And I don’t work with criminals, so thanks but no thanks.” Keith told him. It took everything he had to sound confident, even defiant as he spoke, but deep down he feared he might have just said his last words.

                Doc pointed to the still living man on the floor. Keith screamed “No!” but it was too late, the man’s head exploded and he slumped to the ground dead. Doc kneeled down and lifted the man into a seated position. Blood began to soak into the knees and sleeves of Doc’s suit.

                “I want you to look at how fucking dead this guy is. Motherfucker here is real fucking dead. I can kill you whenever I want to. I mean this guy’s skull is in pieces. I can see what’s left of his brain. You would rather suffer that fate than be rich and live a life of luxury?” Doc shook the man’s body a few times, chunks of gore fell on the floor all around him. “Or maybe you think there’s a catch, maybe you think there’s something I’m hiding from you. Maybe it’s just a lack of trust that keeps us from being partners. That’s fair.”

                Doc’s face scrunched up and he dumped the body on the ground. “Fucker shit himself. I hate that. So tell you what, let’s take a few days and better get to know each other, start finding common ground.” Doc flashed a smile that pissed Keith off. “First thing you need to know about me is that I don’t like it when people refuse a deal with me, so for that you need to get the shit beaten out of you. Draw your gun slowly, keep it pointed down and drop it. Anything else gets you shot.”

                Keith seethed. He’d walked into a trap and now he was at the mercy of a lunatic. He pulled his Glock from his waistband and dumped it on the ground.

                “Good man.” Doc told me, and with that the man Keith had seen in the shadows walked into the light. He was a little bit over 6 foot tall with tan skin, a shaved head and broad shoulders. He was a heavy direct from central casting. “A wise man once said the one thing that makes great fighters is poverty. That’s so true. I run a fight camp on the boarder of Texas and Mexico and all those poor people just scraping along to get by, they all fight for anything they can get. You pay them for their kids to fight and they’ll sell ‘em to you. Those kids fight every day of their lives. Those that make it to adulthood, we call them the Immortals. This young man’s name is Carlos, he’s twenty three and he’s going to teach you some respect.”

                Keith smiled, a fist fight was still something he was extremely deadly at. The idea of being challenged to a fight appealed to him since it was the one forum he was still confident of his skills in. Carlos circled him and Keith kept his hands low. He wanted Carlos to hit him in the head, to find out how dense Keith’s bones were. His skull had broken many a hand in brawls before.

                The jab Keith was hoping for came and glanced off the side of his head. Carlos’ reaction was exactly as Keith expected, nobody is ready for his brick of a skull. Keith fired off a one two of his own but Carlos was to slick and avoided the punches and then drilled Keith with a double right hook to the body. Keith didn’t feel pain from the blows but he knew they had landed. Keith bull rushed him but the charge was sidestepped easily by his opponent.

                Keith took a deep breath and kept his hands up. Carlos snapped a kick to his lead leg and another. Keith had never been attacked in such a way before, he’d seen fighters do it on TV but it had never happened to him in person. He charged at Carlos again and again Carlos sidestepped him, only this time Keith was left exposed and Carlos cracked him with a hard right to the jaw.

Keith saw stars and needed a moment to get his balance, he knew he was in trouble, but the scream Carlos gave indicated he wasn’t in good shape either. It had to have been the instinct of a lifetime of fights that made him throw that punch but now Keith was sure his jaw had broken the man’s hand. Keith turned and threw a punch right into the midsection of Carlos. The punch dug in hard to the body and Carlos’s grunted in agony. A left hook to the face shattered Carlos’ orbital bone and sent him sprawling to the ground. Keith dropped to a knee and thought for a moment about if he wanted to crush the man’s skull with one final punch, to show Doc he wasn’t the only one who could shatter a man’s head.

Right before he raised his hand to bring it down on Carlos’ skull he felt the pain, it shot through his whole body and was completely unbearable. He could hear himself screaming but couldn’t understand it was his voice making the noise. The pain lasted for an interminable amount of time before finally it relented and he collapsed face first on the ground. He could hear a device charging and knew it was the weapon that had disabled him.

             He’d never felt so powerless before, never had his body been damaged to the point where he couldn’t use it. A low hum kept getting louder as the Taser or whatever the hell it was loaded up for another blast.

            “I’m going to break you Ghost man.” Doc’s voice sounded distant, almost other worldly as he spoke. “You will do what I want or you will die.” He finished and with that a second blast hit Keith square in the back. It only took seconds for the sweet grip of oblivion to take his pain away.