Already Dead

"Drek. Missed him!"
Cr4nk slammed a fist against her dashboard, as she helplessly watched the bullet-riddled truck careen past with only an optimistic notion of control, and with it the Yakuza Shatei she was tailing. Her ill-thought of plan of shaving a few seconds off the pursuit by cutting through an alleyway proved to be for naught, losing any potential ground she could have gained in navigating the ramshackle village of tents and huts that seemingly materialised from the ether since the last time she recalled careening through these parts. Sure, she could have tried to simply ram through, but demolishing a homeless man's yurt doesn't exactly build good karma or life-expectancy. And besides, this being Raleigh there's a legitimate chance that some of these shanties have been made with enduring car-crashes in mind.
All of the past week's hard work will have been for nothing if the group failed to take in their mark, and no doubt their employer wouldn't take kindly to it either, and so caution was thrown to the wind. Cr4nk slammed her foot onto the accelerator pedal, summoning a defiant growl from her car's masterfully tuned engine and taking off, eager to pick up the pursuit again with a vengeance.
The Neurse district's outer roads had a different idea, however: Between the evening traffic, Lone Star beginning to intervene and the city's increasingly abstract approach to urban planning as they move through the outer parts of Raleigh, the chase became a matter of wit and and reflex over pure speed for Cr4nj, but a remained one of simple brute force for the panicked Yak making his escape, wrecklessly slamming through anything in his path and leaving a trail of smashed cars and panicked wageslaves for his pursuer to navigate around. Despite the prideful difference in performance, it wasn't long until she lost line of sight to her quarry again, and was forced to follow the sounds of wanton destruction in the distance.
The streets crew emptier. Buildings lost their lustre and gave way to delapidation. Even the air itself began to take on a stale, oppressively stagnant haze despite the best efforts of the car's enviromental controls. The strained noises of the absconding truck grew clearer as the din and commotion of the city dissapeared into the distance behind Cr4nk, leaving in its place the perpetual lull of a part of Raleigh that had died before it even began to live, a decomposing micro-sprawl whose skyline was dominated by innumerable skeletal towers, emblematic of unfilfilled promises, paid for in blood and misery.
The good news was that Cr4nk had managed to chase the fleeing rake into the outskirts of the Concrete Forest, where police and law-abiding bystanders have the good sense to stay away from. The bad news was that they were now in the Concrete Forest, where police and law-abiding bystanders have the good sense to stay away from. The thought of this alone was enough for Cr4nk to take pause, letting her car coast a few meters as the risk of what she was about to do took residence in what remained of her impulse-control.
Cr4nk Threw her weight on the accelerator again. The angelic roar of her engines would no doubt sound like a dinner-bell to any gangers that were all but guaranteed to be in earshot, but speed was once again of essense, and not just because Cr4nk wanted to end the pursuit and leave these chaotic parts behind as soon as possible. The beloved sports-tuner was once again at the mercy of the skill and inhuman reflexes that only a rigger could give, blazing a trail down forsaken roads and weaving through the collection of debris and abandoned wrecks. No going back now, not when help was far away still back in the city.
The sound of the two engines was no longer alone in the growing darkness of the Concrete Forest. Cr4nk could hear a very distinct staccato succession of loud snaps in the distance, which shortly fell silent before being joined by another burst, indifferent to oneanother's rhythms. With a subtle feeling of irony Cr4nk cursed the misfortune of the Yak, who had managed to stir one of the mobs of heavily-armed psychopaths that called the Concrete Forest home and provoke their displeasure at the intrusion, expressed by way of automatic gunfire. A number of smaller, higher-pitched engines were heard in the distance, roused by the presence of an interloper and driven to chase them, for the simple thrill of the hunt above all else.
Cr4nk sped forward, undeterred by the building danger, enthralled even. Weaving through one block, near-blinded from the dust and filth kicked into the air, she finally regained sight of her quarry. A pair of Go-gangers, dressed in peculiar furs and riding motorcycles that looked like nothing Cr4nk had seen before, had already caught up to the truck and began taking opportunistic potshots at the truck, which weaved to and fro in a fruitless attempt at pushing away its attackers. Cr4nk couldn't help but find herself amused, in spite of the chaos, at how stubborn this Shatei and his vehicle were in the face of overwhelming opposition to their continued existence.
It wasn't long before the rest of the Concrete Forest began to wake up as the sounds of gunfire and twisted metal echoed their way outwards. Cr4nk could hear the sound of more engines crying out in the distance, joining oneanother like howling wolves, and if she strained her ears she could make out the sounds of gunfire and indistinct shouting, all towards unknown but no doubt unfriendly ends. It was as if the whole population of these barrens were waiting for an opportunity to cut loose and unleash hell on eachother.
Time once more emphasizing its urgency, Cr4nk reluctantly resolved to pursue her target by more aggressive means and reached into her jacket, closing her shaking fingers around the grip of a firearm - a sleek and seldom-used machine-pistol. Geometric shapes and forms materialised in her mechanically-augmented vision, aligning and shaping themselves into readable text and user-interface components as the weapon's electronic smartgun-systems harmonized themselves with Cr4nk's cybereyes and with the electronics around her, leaving her with a weapon that would be controlled and used just as intuitively as her car or drones. The window left of her began to silently open up, exposing Cr4nk to the harsh winds and catastrophic din of the Concrete Forest.
Cr4nk accelerated and pushed herself into the fray, apathetic to the noise of other beligerents beneath the harmonies of her own engine. One of the go-gangers looked back, having been too beguiled in firing on the struggling truck to pay due attention to the second approaching vehicle until that point, and raised his weapon to defend himself, but it was too late. Cr4nk's car slammed into the back of the now-screeching bike, and with a great screech of twisting metal and scraping rubber, the ganger was launched free of his ramshackle steed and sent ignominiously tumbling over and behind Cr4nk's victorious car, his broken form dissapearing in the clouds of smoke and dust.
The second ganger broke off from the side of the truck and braked suddenly, letting both the truck and Cr4nk speed ahead. A twist of the haphazardly welded pedal quickly launched him back into the fray however, both vehicles in sight, as he pressed the stock of his gun against his shoulder and rattled off a burst towards the new player, growling and roaring indiscriminately alongside his metal steed.
"Fucking right, I get it!" Cr4nk hissed to the biker as bullets ricocheted and embedded themselves into her car's chassis. The whole vehicle rocked and swung to one side as a tire was punctured in the vicious assault, but a simple damaged tire - especially one made to maintain a degree of cohesion when ruptured - was of little concern to the experienced driver, who corrected her course in time to keep on the road and avoid a very premature end to the chase, courtesy of the wrecked remains of another, less fortunate driver.
Another screech of braking tires, but this time it was from Cr4nk's car, and only briefly. The go-ganger swerved his own bike left with arrogant ease, nonchalantly raising his weapon as the open car-window approached.
Only, Cr4nk was already pointing her gun outwards.
The ganger's death was unceremonious, a single bullet among three messily perforating his skull and leaving him slumped backwards, still tethered to his bike as it begun its wobbly coast to a halt. Cr4nk exhaled, still unused to pulling the trigger with her own hand, and returned her attention to the road ahead. The Yakuza's truck had gained over a whole block's distance in the commotion, unfazed by the battering it's suffered, and was eager to put that distance to use.
Cr4nk sped forward, eager to regain ground now that the immediate danger was over. Through the open window, she could hear the fighting in other parts of the Concrete Forest around her has intensified, and in the distance she could even spot the glimmering lights of tracers and warm haze of fires erupting against the darkening sky. It was as if Cr4nk's chase intruding into the barrens had provoked a chain-reaction of violence that was echoing outwards, and would soon bounce back on her position, if experience had anything to say about it.
Another block passed by, the lights of civilized parts pushed behind more and more derelict buildings and clouds of smoke and ash. Even with the advantage of cybernetics and high-powered headlights, Cr4nk was becoming very aware of her sensess growing dimmer as night unfolds. She was eager to finally close the distance, keeping herself motivated by thinking of all the ways she's going to make that Yak bastard hurt the way his actions hurt the Cr4nk's doted-upon car as she approached the next crossing.
But of course, no plan survives contact with the enemy, and the Concrete Forest was chock full of enemies today. The flash of improvised headlights from the left was all the warning Cr4nk had to flick h er own lights off and slam the breaks, sliding to a halt with inches to spare from the line of cars and bikes that suddenly erupted through the crossing in a raging river of steel, sparks and gunfire. More approached, and a headlight on one roof swivelled around to flash its furious gaze on Cr4nk's now stationary vehicle, provoking a torrent of inaccurate but no less deadly gunfire to begin hurtling its way.
"Shit!" Cr4nk screeched as she threw her car into reverse and drew a hasty retreat back down the road she came from, the shout of her car's engine overcome by the deafening racket of massed gunfire riddling the side and back of her car. More shots screamed and ricocheted down the broken asphalt after her, but ultimately died off as the aggressors refused to abandon their route, satisfied in simply spooking the opportunistic target. A fortunate resolution for Cr4nk, but one that didn't soothe with the fact that she now had a whole lot more distance between herself and the yakuza, no longer in sight.
Once again pounding a frustrated fist on the dashboard, Cr4nk once again considered her options. The Yak's truck, stubborn as it was, wouldn't have enough left in it to leave the Concrete forest in this mood, but with the immediate threat out of sight he wouldn't feel the need to make himself conspicuous with continuing to drive at high speeds. More likely, he'd find a nice safe crevice to hide out for a while until things are safer, which means he wouldn't be too far from where Cr4nk last saw him, especially with things still kicking off elsewhere in the Concrete Forest, but it would mean having to search deep and thoroughly.
Chimes reached from her steering-wheel and pressed down one of the buttons on her dash, wincing as she's unexpectedly met with a discordant mechanical whine emitting from the back of her ride. No doubt, the storm of lead thrown her way damaged the trunk's opening mechanism. Muttering a litany of curses to herself, Cr4nk committed to not wasting any more time time and shoved the adjacent door open. Skulking low against the side of her car, she made her way around to the back, and began tugging at the bullet-riddled trunk's manual release. After a few spirited grunts, she was finally able to get the damned thing open, albeit with a loud squeal that made the rigger reflexively cringe.
"Oh... Oh, thank god. You're still in one piece..." Cr4nk crooned at the small rotodrone nestled snugly in the trunk, only a few scrapes on the very top outwardly proving its presence in the previous pandemonium. A flick of a switch confirmed Cr4nk's hopes as the drone's machinery stirred to life with a low-pitched hum, and not a second later the collection of electronics and rotors began to unfold and emerge out of its metal hideaway, proudly rising into the night sky. Cr4nk managed a smile, despite herself; it was gonna be a pain in the ass finding this guy no matter what, but having an eye in the sky might just be the edge she needed.
Now back in her car, Cr4nk resumed into a careful advance down the streets, her headlights off and vision reliant on the night-amplification hardware of her cybereyes. Fights still raged on elsewhere in the barrens, but so long as she doesn't draw attention to herself, Cr4nk hoped, she can keep out of that commotion and draw a bead on wherever the Yak's parked himself in her own time. The drone flying far above her wasn't exactly made for surveilance, but a quiet powertrain and state-of-the-art visual fire-control hardware meant it would readily suffice for such a need, prowling overhead and peering down the alleys and crevices through heat-sensitive optics Cr4nk herself couldn't see into herself.
Only a few minutes passed, and the camera struck on a positive. From its high vantage point, Cr4nk's drone spied two thermal signatures: One metahuman and what was left of a large vehicle, obviously totalled, not even a couple of blocks away from her position. Strangely, both the car and the person are standing in the middle of the street, but those are questions that can be mulled over once she can see what she's looking at.
A short and careful drive later, and Cr4nk arrives at the location, with no sign of go-gang agitators in sight. Slowing to a halt, at the end of the block, Cr4nk risks poking her head out the window to get a better look at what she's came across: In the middle of the street, a tall, thin metahuman, most likely an ork, is walking back and forth across the street with a stumbling gait, arms crossed. His clothes are obviously some kind of gang colors, but not any one that Cr4nk recognises. The left side of his tunic-looking garment was more visibly torn than the rest of his clothing, revealing a fresh wound on the side of his chest, staining his clothes with fresh blood and dripping onto the asphalt beneath him.
Nearby, the wreck of an armored car sat overturned against the sidewalk, riddled with holes from what looks like some serious high-caliber carnage wraught upon it, gently smoking but not yet visibly aflame, despite its destruction and the often-shoddy engineering of smaller time go-gang gearheads. A loaded rifle of some unknown make sat unattended nearby, but is apparently of no interest to the ganger, who briefly stopped in his uncoordinated pacing to stare into the nothingness of the Concrete Forest, before resuming.
Cr4nk rolled her eyes, feeling let down by the anticlimax of her find, but resolves that she might as well make the most of it while her drone continues the search up above. Keeping her machine-pistol steady but hidden from the outside, she slowly drives her car down the street and towards the ganger, who doesn't seem to even notice or care, even the car rolls to a halt right beside him.
"You okay there, bud?" Cr4nk asked cautiously. The ganger stopped in his tracks and turned his head slowly, seemingly struggling with fixing his gaze onto the curious Rigger.
"Hm? You uh, you can-.... I mean... uh, yeah, I guess I'm as good." The ganger answered uncertainly in a weak, dry voice, briefly breaking from his glazed stare to look up and down the road, before turning to face Cr4nk fully and taking a cautious step towards the car.
"Alright then..." Cr4nk joined the ganger in looking around, curious as to what he's looking out for. "Hey... I don't suppose you saw an old-ass truck pass through here, did you?" Cr4nk tried her best to keep her tone casual and nonthreatening, as though she wasn't asking questions to a bleeding go-ganger in the middle of the most dangerous part of North Carolina. The ganger paused, contemplating his answer with a serenity unexpected from one with an untreated gunshot-wound, then nodded in the affirmative.
"I've seen plenty pass by, but yeah, I saw a truck. Hit what's left of my ride comin' on through, then uh..." He paused again, taking a moment to gaze thoughtfuly at his shaking hands. "Uh... yeah, he went through and hooked a right... I don't know where he went after that though, omae."
"Cool, cool. Thanks for the tip..." Cr4nk replied, feeling unprepared for this situation: It's not often a barrens ganger isn't shooting at outsiders on sight, let-alone having a conversation as calm and civil as this. The abrupt and sporadic cracks of gunfire in the distance and the gentle whirrs of her drone waiting impatiently overhead did little to dampen the awkwardness of this unusual circumstance.
"Hey, you sure you're alright? You... you need anything?" Cr4nk asked, still a tad concerned about how someone can be so unbothered by the growing bloodstain on their chest, regardless of its actual severity. The ganger paused, his eyes vacantly moving from left to right as if going down a mental checklist.
"It's cool, it's... No yeah, I'm good." The ganger looked back down the road, towards the wreck he most likely crawled out from not long before. "Hey, can I ask you a question?" he asked, voice shaking with what might be uncertainty or shock from blood-loss
"Sure." Cr4nk answered, curious as to where this was going.
"How can you see me?"
Cr4nk paused. Of all the questions, she wasn't expecting that.
"I uh... I don't know, I guess. Shouldn't I see you?" She asked in a legitimately curious tone. She felt her fingers losen around the grip of her machine-pistol, but an appropriately timed crack of gunfire in the distance quickly reversed that unconscious decision.
"Well... I mean, I'm dead." The ganger shrugged half-heartedly and spoke with a matter-of-fact casualness, as if such a fact were so obvious as to not need pointing out.
"I didn't know that..." Cr4nk replied, for lack of a better answer, and cracked the side of her head.
"Yeah, I'm ah... I mean I've not been dead for long..." the ganger points at the overturned car. "I was on my way to back up Jules and the others... Never been in a real fight before, so I got scared and tried to peel off, but I got cornered by some Horse Dancer fuckers... I tried getting a few shots off but they shot right through my ride..." Cr4nk could only listen on in mildly shocked silence as the ganger let out a nervous chuckle, discussing his apparent demise with the same indifference as someone talking about what they did on their weekend.
"I think I bled out in the seat, but it wasn't as fucked as I thought it'd be. Dying, you know. Are, uh..." the Ganger stammers, obviously as unfamiliar with this situation as Cr4nk was. "Are you dead too?"
"Sorry, just passing through..." Cr4nk answered, perhaps a little too suddenly, as she looked at the road ahead.
"Right, right... Well, I'm not gonna keep you waiting. You pass through and do whatever, omae..." The Ganger said, sounding a tad deflated.
Cr4nk didn't answer, but simply began to drive on. As she passed by the wreck, curiosity overtook her, and she hazarded a peak at the overturned driver's seat slowly coming into view. To her unspoken relief, the seat was empty, with only a solitary bullethole and a quantity of somewhat fresh blood pooling beneath it. Nothing I can do about this, Cr4nk thought to herself as she glanced in her wing-mirror and watched the ganger, who remained standing where he was, staring into nothingness as Cr4nk pulled away.
After a few more minutes, Cr4nk's drone came across another head-signature. A truck for sure this time, engine still warm enough to show up on thermals. Cr4nk coasted to a stop, taking a moment to adjust her grip on her machine-pistol and collect herself. A sharp ping rang from the inside of her ear, notifying her of a message sent to her commlink: The rest of the crew had finally caught up, after a few clashes and distractions of their own, and were closing in on Cr4nk's position.
Time for this night to come to a finish.