Rail's Night Off
 
It had been an enjoyable evening.  Rail absentmindedly smiled through the
rows of bottles and haze of smoke as he watched the bar room floor through
the reflection of a large, dusty mirror.  He sat, slouched on his stool,
propped up on one elbow and drank deep from his tumbler.  Sighing, he pushed
the glass away and spun slowly about, one corner of his trench coat dragging
silently on the floor.
 
Rail could feel the last of his buzz draining away.  His hands and feet were
still tingling, but his insides were cool and boring.  He had been trying to
revive it with whiskey, but had known for a while that it was a lost cause.
He lurched forward, moving slowly more in an attempt to keep his mind
suspended as long as possible than actual inebriation.  As he slipped
through the bar, he kept his gaze wandering and nodded slightly when his eye
washed over a friendly face that had noted his leaving.
 
He was rounding a table, when he turned his head just in time to be plowed
over.  He found himself on the floor, looking up at a young ork who had
obviously not seen Rail as he lumbered from his chair.  The ork was looking
down at him with a slightly fuzzy, puzzled look.  He just about to open his
mouth when the prone human leapt back up.
 
Rage swamped Rail.  Anger screamed through him as the last of his high was
melted away in a heady blaze.  The ork shrank back as Rail, screaming
obscenities and radiating hatred, drove himself into the much larger man.
Rail let the anger charge through him as he slammed forward.  Suddenly he
felt himself yanked backwards and lifted off his feet.
 
He rolled his head to the right and saw the face of Trudy, one of the
bartenders who was apparently acting as bouncer.  The huge man pulled Rail
within an inch of his face and shouted, "Rail, SHADDUP!"  Rail blinked.  "He
's just a stupid kid who got in yer way.  Now  calm down, and get outta my
bar."  He pushed Rail towards the doorway and stood, glaring at him.  By
now, the flare of anger had retreated, and Rail slinked off, cursing and
muttering as a foul mood settled firmly upon him like a dark and heavy
cloak.
 
Outside, the night was damp with a slow breeze carrying a slight chill.
Rail walked off, cutting through alleys and side streets and he meandered
towards a bus stop.  As he approached the mouth of one shadow encrusted
passage, he paused at the sound of laughter.  He drew himself sidewise,
further into the darkness and watched.  'Probably just someone else headed
home,' he thought.  Still, Rail waited, not minding the prospect of trouble,
but more annoyed at the thought of having to deal with some bright,
fresh-faced young couple.  Moments later, he saw a young man and women walk
by him.  They couldn't have been older than 16, but he could see immediately
that they were both gangers.  They were joking and talking, just like any
other kids, but they walked like they owned the place.  Slow, casual strides
and confident, sneering gazes combined with the yellow scarves draped loose
around their necks to identify them both as Tigers; a large gang whose
self-claimed territory lay nearby.  An evil smile parted Rail's lips as the
anger slowly stirred to life again.
 
Rail didn't know these two, but he had a score to settle with the Tigers.
Will all the Tigers.  He silently drew his fletchette gun, holding it in his
right hand and letting his coat sleeve fall over it.  As the two passed him,
he slipped after them.  Walking silently, and just barely faster then they,
it was several steps later before he had pulled almost even with them.  He
suddenly stepped forward, beside the girl.  She turned her head, and he
noticed her pink lips turning from an 'O' of surprise, to a haughty sneer.
As she started to turn towards him, he raised his right hand and shot her
through the throat.
 
The other Tiger started in surprise as spray of blood, cartilage and a few
stinging fletchettes washed over him.  Rail pushed the choking ganger down
with his left hand and fired off shot after shot into the torso of the
remaining one.  Rail screamed as a maelstrom of fury tore through him; his
wrath finding release as he pulled the trigger again and again.  Blood swept
over him in waves as the fletchettes tore through the ganger, each one
tearing him apart like a small shotgun blast.
 
Moments later, Rail came to his senses, still screaming long and wordlessly
at the mangled corpses.  "You fuckers killed Dodger," he gasped.  "You-", he
choked and trembled, trying to find a foothold in the torrent of despair
that welled up in him.  He slowly stepped away, and noticed that silence had
descended on the area around him.  'Oh, shit', he thought, 'how long have I
been out here?'
 
He staggered down the street, picking up speed as he turned the run into an
all out sprint.  He leapt around a corner and bounced off his second person
of the night.  This time, he remained on his feet.  Rail froze as he looked
into the eye of a woman, this time dressed in a sharp, clean LoneStar
uniform.  He couldn't think, but just stared as they both stood their,
trying to figure out what was going on.  He could see where he had hit her,
he had left a bloody smear on her shirt.  He wondered, briefly, what he must
look like to her.  A wild-eyed man, in a ragged black coat with blood
covering the front of him.  He laughed at the absurdity of it; a quick bark
that broke the silence.  Time suddenly seemed to move again, and she reached
one hand towards him as the other went to her hip.  Rail spun around, and
ran.