Onward to Jakarta
Matthew Ryan Fischer
66 sat in
the back row, leaned his head against the window and tried to fall asleep. He would
be in Jakarta in three hours, traffic willing, and he could really use the
rest. A friend had done his best to stitch his wounds, but there was only so
much that could be healed in three days with Gatorade and vitamin supplements. He
needed a doctor and rest and perhaps surgery, but 66 had burnt all his contacts
in Bandung. Once the fighting had broken out, he knew there was no going back. On
the road again, but this time with fewer resources, and even fewer friends.
66 rolled
his sleeve down to hide his tattoo. The tattoo that was his life. The tattoo that
was his name. It used to mean something. He used to be part of something. That
tattoo had taken him around the world and back. It had made him a man. Made him
part of something.
But that
was all years ago when he hated his brother and father and his nephew that was secretly
his son. He had left and never planned to look back. But life was long and had
other plans. But now all that was gone as well. Everything and everyone he knew
were victims of having known him. It was his curse.
66 wasn’t
sure what he’d find in Jakarta. Once there were would have been an organization.
Once his tattoo would have been a passport, to be feared and respected. But
that organization wasn’t organized. It was a loose conglomeration, a
confederacy at best. It made it hard to destroy the group. It made it harder
for them to stick together.
33 had
been his friend. 33 had tried to kill him. He had never killed another member,
but he had acted in self-defense. He hoped that would be enough and the others
would understand.
It had
been years, but he had met 22 in Jakarta before. There was a chance she was
still there.
If only he
had his motorcycle, he’d be there already. But that was at his brother’s
garage, and that was probably swarmed with police by now. Plus, he wasn’t sure
he had the strength to stay upright.
66 closed
his eyes and tried to sleep. It might be his last chance to get a few solid hours
for a very long time. The bus pulled out of the station and rattled off into
the night.
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