"Half Shell Heroes of Hell's Kitchen" - Part Two

 

Part Two

            “I’m just making sure you’re safe, hon. New York City is a big, dangerous place.”

            Tyler Thorne loved his mother with all his heart, but her daily phone calls started to wear very thin on his patience. They had been coming ever since he moved to the Big Apple, a few months ago. Admittedly, they were a nice welcome from the loneliness he felt in his low-rent apartment, filled with very little furniture (some of which he bought from a pawn shop – the rest from dumpster diving). He had yet to find a full-paying job to upgrade his living conditions.

            At this rate, he might as well move back to his parents’ house in Utah.

            “I know, Mom,” he patiently replied. “But you know I can take care of myself. I didn’t take those Taekwondo and gymnastics classes all for nothin’.”

            “A few cartwheels and karate chops won’t protect you against a loaded gun, young man!” Mrs. Thorne cried. “Your father and I have talked about it, and we both think it’s a good idea if you got yourself…”

            “Oh, don’t start, Mom,” Tyler refuted. “You know how I hate guns.”

            Mrs. Thorne sighed. “I know, dear. Still, it would just make me feel better to know you’re protected in some way…or have someone looking out for you, at least. Like a girlfriend.”

            Ugh! Here we go again!

            “Mom, please…”

            “I’m serious, Tyler. You’re 22 years old now. It’s time you started thinking about settling down with a nice girl there in the city.”

            Tyler huffed, looking around his shack of an apartment. “Yeah, I’m sure a girl would just love to settle down here.” His hazel-brown eyes landed on the old analog TV set he scored from one of his dumpster dives, switching it on with the remote. There were only three stations he could get on it, one of which was Channel Six.

            “I’m serious, Tyler. A girl would do a world of wonders for your life.”

            “A girl like April O’Neil?” Tyler reputed sarcastically. The famous Channel Six reporter just happened to have been the first face he saw on TV, albeit through tons of static, doing her nightly news coverage. She was on location somewhere in the city – Hell’s Kitchen, from the looks of it – reporting on the string of vigilantism that had been occurring in that area. Word on the street was that there was a new player in town, outside of those ‘Turtles’ that April often covered in her reports. Eyewitnesses referred to him as some sort of devil – or a guy dressed in a devil costume. Everybody’s gotta a gimmick these days.

            “April O’Neil?” Mrs. Thorne parroted. “The news reporter? Oh, honey, she’s way out of your league.”

            “Gee, thanks, Mom,” Tyler scoffed.

            “What I mean is that you deserve a girl who’s not quite so widespread as April O’Neil,” Mrs. Thorne recommended. “A girl next door, as our generation used to call them.”

            “Well, if one happens to move next door to me, I’ll be sure to tell her ‘hi’.”

            Just when the phone conversation started to get interesting, Tyler suddenly heard strange noises rumbling from the floor above his, which was actually the roof. He would’ve assumed they were the usual odd sounds associated with the building’s centuries-old plumbing system, but these weren’t the usual registers he overheard. Instead of pops and clinks, it was wheezing and grinding.

            “Mom, I’ll call you back,” Tyler ended abruptly. He heard his mother protesting on the other end, assuming that he was trying to avoid further talking about girls. He would just have to explain himself later. Right now, he needed to make sure the roof wasn’t about to fall down on him.

            He was on his way out just when a couple of individuals crossed his path:

            A cute, little African-American boy who couldn’t have been older than ten years old, carrying a turquoise purse over his shoulder and a wooden staff with a blue diamond-shape crystal at the top end of it.

            The other caught the most of Tyler’s gaze – an extremely attractive, young Caucasian brunette with rose red lips and long flowing hair. She looked to be Tyler’s age, dressed in a tight black turtleneck that was cropped at her ribcage, baring her toned abdomen. She also wore olive-green jeans that were even tighter on her athletic, hourglass frame. Tyler couldn’t help but stare at her, as she walked the rest of the way through the hallway with her little friend.

            He completely forgot why he stepped out of his apartment in the first place.

            Oh, right! Those weird noises!

            Rushing up through the short ‘rooftop access’ stairwell that led out onto the rooftop, he was greeted by the chilly night breeze. Decrepit as his apartment was, he had to admire the glorious view of the cityscape that it provided, especially late in the evening. Of course, at the moment, a mysterious, domino-shaped black monolith seemed to have stolen the show. There it sat on the rooftop, for reasons unknown, the city lights reflecting off its sleek, marbled structure.

            Where did this come from?!

            He recalled those two individuals he saw a moment ago. They came out of the rooftop access stairwell. Maybe they know about this big, weird domino thing. His curiosity pressed him to catch up to the hot brunette and the little kid, tailing them downstairs and out of the complex.

            Along the way, he eavesdropped on their exchange…

            “Why would Thomas come here?” the kid asked. “Something to do with the Cyber Legion?”

            The brunette shrugged. “Maybe? Or perhaps the Hierarchy? Poor Neas has made so many enemies out here in the Infinite DC.”

            Infinite DC? Last time I checked, this was Fifth Avenue.

            “It does bring back some memories coming here,” the brunette said with a smile formed on her beautiful lips. “Even though this New York isn’t the same one where Kristin and I first met, a lot of the sights are pretty much the same.”

            Kristin…I guess that’s an old friend of hers…but from the way she said the name, it sounds like they were more than that.

            “Oh, wow!” The brunette exclaimed. “They even have an Anton’s!”

            Tyler saw her point to the pizzeria that was a few blocks from his apartment. He liked eating there on nights that he couldn’t afford to cook his own meals. Anton’s made the best cauliflower pizza – the healthiest thing on the menu to help Tyler keep to his vegetarian diet.

            “C’mon, I’ll treat ya to a quick slice,” the brunette offered her little friend.

            “Alright!” The kid cheered.

            Tyler followed them right in. He never got tired of that first whiff of cheese and marinara that welcomed Anton’s customers. The music playing through the corner speakers clashed with all the different booth conversations, as well as the usual sounds from the kitchen beyond the checkout counter. Tyler sat at the booth near where the brunette and the kid settled into; he made himself look like a regular customer, holding the menu in front of him as he continued listening in.

            Strangely, neither of the two individuals said anything worth eavesdropping on.

            “Uh, excuse me?” He finally heard the brunette’s voice again – speaking directly to him. He looked away from the menu, seeing the attractive young woman standing over him with a dissatisfied look on her face. “May I ask why you’re following us?”

            How did she find out?!?!

            “What?” Tyler scoffed, playing dumb. “Sorry. I don’t know what you’re…”

            “C’mon, dude!” She griped. “You’re holding the menu upside down!”

            Tyler looked back on the item in his hands and, sure enough, he was holding it that way. “Idiot,” he demeaned himself. Setting the menu down, he sank down in his seat. “I…I got nothin’.”

            She could see how embarrassed he was. She decided to go easy on him.

            “Lemme guess,” she said, sitting across from Tyler at the booth. “You took one look at me and told yourself, ‘Hey, I bet I can buy her dinner at this quaint little pizzeria’. Am I right?”

            He brushed some locks of his hair down over one side of his face. Usually, he hated wearing it in such a style, believing that it made him look emo; but he made an exception in this embarrassing case. “I…I mean, that wasn’t my first thought of action, but now that you mention it…”

            She shook her head, scoffing. “Típico chico blanco estúpido.”

            “¿Se puede culpar a un típico chico blanco por enamorarse de una hermosa chica blanca?” He surprised her with his own fluent Spanish tongue. “You talk in Spanish to avoid people hearing what you really think of them, too, huh?”

            She smirked, seeming to be enthralled. “What’s your name, pretty boy?”

            Pretty boy? Now we’re getting somewhere! “Tyler…Tyler Throne,” he said, sitting up straight and straightening his hair to more presentable standards.

            “Well, you’re quite the Thorne in my side, Tyler.”

            Wow. She sounded like my dad with that joke. “What’s yours?”

            “Rania.” Finally, there was a lovely name to go with the lovely face. “So, Tyler, you wanna tell me why you really followed me and my friend all the way to this pizzeria? ‘Cause I know it wasn’t just my irresistible looks.”

            Man, she is really direct! “Well, I saw you two outside my place, right after I heard this noise on the roof, like Santa and Rudolph went on a bender. And when I went to check on it, there was this—”

            Before he could finish his story, all activity in the pizzeria suddenly stopped.

            Tyler knew exactly why. It only happened whenever Bigsy and Milo, two enforcers of Joey Alpo (New York’s biggest crime boss), entered the scene. A pair of twin thugs that dressed in the same black pinstriped suits and matching fedoras; they only ever came to Anton’s to do business, unless their boss decided to have lunch or dinner, every once in a while.

            Every patron knew to leave as soon as they arrived, and many did at that very moment – with the exception of Rania, her little friend, Tyler himself, a blind man sitting at another booth, and an old lady who Tyler recognized. “Ms. Rivers,” he identified her.

            “You know her?” Rania queried.

            “She lives across from me,” Tyler said. “She’s the sweetest lil’ lady. She helped find me a job on my first week in Manhattan.” He watched as Bigsy and Milo approached Ms. Rivers, who was practically trembling with fear at her table. “What business does she have with those two psychos?”

            Rania tensed. “It doesn’t look like anything good.”

            “Time’s up, lady,” Bigsy grunted to Ms. Rivers. “Mr. Alpo wants his dough!”

            Ms. Rivers clutched her purse on her lap. “I…I-I don’t know what else to tell you boys. My grandson…He…He tried to get your money in time…but his boss…he can’t give him the raise that he asked for…and…”

            “Excuses, excuses, excuses!” Milo groaned furiously. He knocked over the table in front of Ms. Rivers, spreading all its contents over the floor, including the meal she had only half eaten before the intimidating thugs arrived. “Mr. Alpo wants his money, ya old hag!”

            “And if ya don’t have it? Well…” Bigsy relished in what he was about to say next. “We’ll just have to pay a lil’ visit to yer dear ol’ grandson and break his legs as collateral.”

            Ms. Rivers was now quaking in fear. “P-Please…g-g-give us m-more time…”

            Rania and Tyler both had enough of this appalling scene.

            But just as they both rose from their booth…

            “HEY!” They glanced over at the booth from where Rania’s little friend sat. Only now, he had gotten up – his staff firmly gripped in his hand – and boldly glared at Bigsy and Milo. “LEAVE HER ALONE!”

            Tyler admired the kid’s bravery. “That’s one gutsy lil’ dude.”

            Rania glanced at him, smirking. “He’s Craig of the Creek…and you have no idea.”