This is a Short Story about the past of Bren and Canen, known as the Barley Boys. They featured in my Sol Novel. You do not need to have read that first (although, of course you should!) it stands alone.

——————

“Bren.”


“Canen.”

The Boys stared at each other as the boilermakers were dropped between them. They both slammed the whiskey and held up two fingers for another. The young man who was waiting tables had not even turned around, he knew the Boys and their drinking habits. The young man gathered up the two shots and headed back to get them replacements.


“Not dead yet then Bren?” Canen asked, his bushy eyebrows wiggling like they were trying to join in the drinking.

Bren set the pint back down and wiped the foam off his mustache. Though they had parted ways a long time ago yet were still mirrors of each other, complete with button down vests and flat caps.

The sound of the bar was getting a bit raucous, the two musicians near the fire were trying their level best to be heard over the din. They were trying to playing a more melancholic vibe while the crowd wanted to get drunk.

Canen felt a pull at his soul and shot a glare at Bren “None of that shit brother. We agreed.”

Bren smiled a lopsided grin “My bad, old habits.” They both took another drink and waited as their whiskey dropped on the table again.

They both reached out and swirled their glasses before taking a sip. The first was to set the mood, the second was to savour.

“Alright Canen. I assume this is about our dead friends?” Bren remarked. They both knew what this was about. The thing that had been keeping them both awake and scared for the past few days. Nothing like knowing you were the next target for a Super to really focus your mind.

“Bren, we have had our differences, God knows we have not been the best of brothers let alone friends. But everyone else is dead and you know what Perseus is after.”

Bren nodded, “Us.”

Canen grunted in agreement. “Have you found anything about him?”

Bren hesitated “Look Canen. I know we have a truce right now. Does not mean we are working together.”

“God damn it Bren!” Canen burst out, his eyebrows flaring “Look, we are fucked. He is a Super, he took out the whole crew and he knows about us! We have to work together or we are dead.”

Bren grimaced and took another sip. “Fine, you are right. I know that, I don’t have to like it though.”

Canen nodded. “I’ll go first, although I have not found out much. It is hard to go hunting for info when you are scared enough to shit yourself. I know that we are not the first gang he has wiped out. He seems to be hunting any group that might have a Super. Not sure why he is targeting the hard ones. Also, since he is taking out the gangs Levi and Manticore have turned a blind eye.”


Bren chimed in “Those fuckers wouldn’t move for anything that doesn’t touch their precious bottom line.”

“Agreed. Doesn’t help us though.” Canen continued. “Look, if we are working together, I got to admit I have no support network now the boys are gone. I am fairly sure you are the same?”

Swirling the whiskey in the glass Bren gave a simple tilt of the head.

They sat there in relative silence. The crowd around them getting more rowdy and the musicians seemed to have given in and were playing a much more upbeat number. The boys played with their glasses in front of them.

“We are going to die right?” Bren finally muttered.

Canen took a moment before agreeing. “Unless you have been holding out a different Super I don’t know about, yeah. We are proper fucked.”

Bren’s lopsided grin came back. “Let’s at least go out the same way we came in, kicking and screaming.”

—————

The alley had that smell of shit, desperation and despair. It is the same the world over. The brickwork crowding in and adding to the feeling of being trapped. Perseus stood there, leaning against the wall, his sword hanging from his hip, a smoke from his lips. Not a care in the world. The brothers melted out of the shadows.

Bren in front and Canen behind.

They had both quietly put the word out about town that now they had lost their crew that they were moving on to a new patch. Hoping to draw out Perseus into a fight on their home ground.

They both knew that their Super, while impressive for brawling against street toughs, was nothing compared to a full blown Super. It was cute that they could draw on each others strength and agility yet it meant the other was left weakened. They were both ready to die but it would be on their own terms.

Speaking around his smoke Perseus nodded to them “Boys. Glad you made the time to see me.”

Both of them tried to not shake, the adrenaline coursing through their bodies making it almost impossible.

“Ay mate, we thought we would give you chance to give your apologies and go on your way.” Bren spoke first, the false bravado shivering around his words.

Perseus slowly rolled the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other before replying “I like your take my man. Sadly that will not be happening today.”

He had not even gone for his sword Canen saw. He was flanked in a damp, dark alley and he was simply standing there. What the hell kind of Super was he? Neither of the Boys had managed to find out. They had found his trail of bodies but not much beyond that.

Bren grimaced “Ah do not like this bullshit, where we come from you don’t hang about and have a chat. You just up and twat the guy.”

Bren had barely shifted his weight forward, ready to launch himself at Perseus when Canen saw the man’s hand flicker down to his sword, draw it and throw it with such speed he could barely follow. Canen let himself open up and he felt Bren panic and draw hungrily from Canen. Canen felt his awareness dim, his muscles going limp and lifeless. With Bren drawing so much from him Canen could barely keep himself standing in the fetid alley.

Bren drew deep. In an instant his awareness expanded, time seemed to slow down. Even in this state though Perseus was still moving fast towards him, trailing the sword that was gliding through the air. Straight at him. Bren felt a grin coming on, Perseus didn’t know what their Super was or he would have changed target for Canen, defenceless as he is right now.

With the increased speed and strength Bren was able to slide his head out of the way of the sword as it ripped past and met Perseus’s attack full on. Bren did not try to block the strike, he took the fist directly to his stomach allowing him to complete his own swing.

Bren had grown up on the streets, grown up with the gangs. He had no formal training in fighting but he knew how to punch a man and keep him down. With the added strength from Canen his fist exploded towards Perseus like a hammer of God. It caught him directly on the cheek and continued. Bren felt the bone break beneath his fist and for a moment he thought they might actually win.

Perseus let the force carry him off his feet backwards and twisted in the air, bringing his own left fist crashing down towards the weakened Canen.

It was Canens’ turn to draw, he pulled at Bren like a dying man. Power flooded his body, the sudden rush of senses and light was disorientating. He tried to bring his guard up but even with the added speed he was still too slow and felt Perseus’s fist crush down on his shoulder, the time dilation gleefully allowing him to experience in excruciating detail his own shoulder dislocating, almost ripping from his torso.

At the same time Canen saw Bren falter. Without the added strength from Canen that body blow he took returned to cash its cheque. And by god it was a greedy bitch. Canen could not watch his brother struggle to stay upright as in front of him was a whirling dervish of pain. The blows coming so fast he could barely keep up and with an arm completely out of commission he was having to draw on his old habit from having an abusive dickhead for a dad. Canen was rolling with the blows. Taking them to the body and protecting the head. Keep moving, sap the strength of the blows. He was a young man at home all of a sudden. The impotent rage filling his mouth and tasting like coins.

He spat at Perseus and saw his blood splatter the mans face. Canen took a moment to try and get some space and check on his brother and saw the tip of the sword sink into his brothers shoulder. The shocked look on his face slowly coming together as he fell.

Canen almost faltered himself, almost released his powers back to Bren. But Canen knew, deep in his bones, he needed to finish this now. Perseus not only had the whole package of speed and strength but he could bloody well control his sword with his mind. Not fair.

Bren was trying to claw his own abilities back so he knew as well. Canen struggled to fight his brother off, to draw everything he could and saw the sword retreat from Bren’s body. It flipped over Bren’s shoulder, dripping blood and was now flying towards Canen. In an instant Canen could no longer see it as it was behind Perseus who was throwing fists at him almost too fast to see.

Keep rolling, take it. He was a young man again. His father beating on him for whatever slight had gotten him that day. The punches kept coming, his father would not get tired. He was a blacksmith who beat metal all day, a young body was nothing.

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Perseus slid smoothly out of the way, slightly off center as the sword flew past him, straight at Canen. Perseus was readying himself for Canen to try and dodge the sword.

Bastard. He thought he had them.

Canen saw Perseus’s eyes widen as Canen stepped directly towards Perseus and took the sword clean through him, repeating what he had learned all those years ago. What his brother had tried to pull off earlier, but had stupidly not drawn everything he could from Canen. Bren had left him enough to function. Canen would not make the same mistake. He drew, deeper and deeper.

Canen felt the sword slide in under the rib, time was slowing. Every agonising moment flaring in him like a flower of pain as the sword continued. Grinding against the bone. His back foot pivoting, pushing against the ground, cracking the stone he was on, twisting his body and hip following. The sword continued through his internal organs and he felt it break out the back. Canen’s left fist was an extension of his whole body. Drifting towards Perseus’s side, moving with the inexorability of a planet. Perseus was ever so slightly off balance and not able to recover in time. Unable to think that someone would be so goddamn stupid to accept a sword to the ribs.

Bren and Canen were that kind of stupid. They had learned from the best.

Canen’s fist connected and didn’t stop. It kept pushing. He felt the ribs fold and snap like a cheap table. It kept going. The internal organs being punctured by the shards of the ribs and his fist.

It kept going.

His whole fist was in Perseus now, blood beginning to slowly pour over his arm. It kept going. Perseus was trying to pull away but like digging a grave by hand it seemed to last forever. The organs crushed and pushed out of the way of the continuing fist. Canen felt the resistance finally as he was elbow deep in the mans guts, pushing against his spine.

It kept going.

Exploding out the back of the man and spraying blood and ichor against the wall of the alley adding to the patina of filth already covering it.

Time snapped back to normal speed as Canen released his hold on Bren’s abilities. With a wordless groan he slumped to his knees, the sword in his guts and his arm in the dead Perseus the only things keeping him from face planting onto the alleyway.

How long he knelt there, his forehead resting against Perseus, Canen did not know. He did know how long it took to remove the sword from his guts as he felt every second of it in the kind of detail that will keep him awake at night. Much worse was the sucking feeling of removing his gore covered arm from inside another mans body. That would not keep him awake, that will keep him in nightmares for many months to come.

Bren stumbled over to Canen and collapsed next to him.

“Remind me to never shake hands with you again.” Bren said with his grin and promptly vomited his whiskey over the cobbles.

Switching their strength back and forth they managed to get to one of their old gang safe houses. Riding the ragged edge of death, Bren allowed Canen to use his abilities to get out of the danger zone of a sword through the stomach. Canen then spent the better part of a week lying in darkness and unable to move as Bren borrowed it all back. They both agreed to never again try and tussle with Supers.