It was well passed midnight, the moon was no where to be seen, and I was itching for a fight.
I cracked my knuckles simply by flexing them, my massive fingers ready to wrap themselves around a puny little human's neck. The soft neon glow of hundred of signs advertising flowing money, hollow promises, and cheap sex bounced off my skin, at least whatever light wasn't absorbed by my dark complexion. People were lined up around the corner to get into the place but before that they had to walk by me.
Las Vegas is the type of city where dreams are formed and just as quickly squashed. My kind of town. People pile in by the thousands for their shot at Lady Luck, regardless of how many people warn them that the house always wins.
I don't know about the house but I damn well always win.
I've had a lot of names tossed at me over the years, most of them strong enough to make a sailor blush. Freak, Monster, Jolly Green Bastard…course calling me green these days doesn't make much sense. You'd think that I would get stared at more often but I doubt people want to look at my mug for too long. I'm as mean as they come and I don't take shit from anyone. People always ask why I look how I look. I tell them it's because I made a deal with the Devil. Honestly? It's not too far from the truth.
Sure, I've got my secrets. But so does everyone else in this town.
THE HULK: VEGAS GRAY
Chapter One
Written by D. Golightly
"Hey, Joe!"
The guy running toward me is a real bruiser by the name of Sal. He's not big on brains but not really lacking for muscle. Least, not in comparison to the rest of the casino's bouncers. Compared to me, on the other hand, Sal might as well be impotent. He pushed a few old ladies pumping quarters into the slots out of his way to get to me, a look of agitation on his face. Perfect.
"Joe, listen," he spits out between gasping breathes. "Been looking everywhere for ya."
"I ain't moved all night, Sal. I'm the doorman, remember?"
"Yeah, right, sorry." Sal was always apologizing to me. I get the impression that I intimidated the hell out of him, which made me feel good. "We got a problem on the loading dock."
I couldn't help but smirk. A problem for Sal was usually candy for me. I shouldn't be so hard on the guy, but one look at his stupid human face and I remember the kind of guy I am.
"Watch the door," I told him. "And don't let them Hiltons sisters in here again. They still haven't paid off their debt to Mister G."
Sal nodded and took my spot by the grand entrance to the casino as I sighed and stomped off through the hundreds of people. The casino where I worked, an upscale place called the Starlight, was one of the classiest places in Vegas and at any given time had a dozen celebrities hitting the tables hard. The big names that were drawn in was one of the Starlight's claims to fame. Johnny-Off-The-Street loved the chance to sit down and play blackjack with Hollywood's elite.
I was just here for the money.
Needless to say everyone got out of my way when they saw, or heard, me coming. Standing at seven-foot-five and weighing near five hundred pounds will get you a clear path through any crowd. And even if my size didn't my appearance sure as hell would. Even though I preferred to dress these days in a custom pinstripe suit I still couldn't escape my thick, gray skin and chiseled features. Plus, the muscles. Hard to forget the muscles. When you look like a friggin' colossal demon in an expensive suit it pays to get out of the way.
I made my way across the casino floor and through a door marked "employees only" with a swipe of my security passkey. I felt like a putz carrying the dinky little card around but it came with the job, seeing as how Las Vegas casinos made sure their security was tighter than a stripper's…well, I think you see where I'm going with this.
Like I said before, I'm just doing this for the money. Ever since that runt Banner planted us out here in the middle of the desert I've had to make the best of things. Truth be told, though, I prefer it out here. Banner's locked away in the back of my head where he can't bother me and the place is filled with my kind of people.
"Howdy, Joe," one of the cooks mentioned as I passed by, finally getting into the kitchen. "You better get out back; they ain't playing nice tonight."
I waved one of my massive mitts in his general direction and grunted an affirmative. Joe wasn't my real name but that's what everyone called me. I didn't have a real name as long as we're getting into it. "Joe Fixit" was what people tended to call me out here, which was a nice change from Giant, Frankenstein, or the Hulk.
I pushed open the last door between me and the loading dock to see a dozen guys all staring each other down. They were split down the middle with the half closest to the door comprised of the Starlight's security guys. The other half were a pack of punks that had been coming around lately, riding the orders of an asshole named Marcus Price. It was a common pun in Vegas that everything came with a price, and he was it. Price owned a rival casino across down the block and ran the place like he was Mafioso. Maybe he was; I didn't much care.
"Oh, great," one of Price's boys muttered. "The fucking gargoyle is here." He was taller than the others, apparently their leader. He was either punch-drunk or stoned, hard to tell which. Price grabbed up whatever prize-fighters he could as muscle.
"Unless you want your asses crushed into the cement, get lost," I shot back at him. I crossed my arms over my chest, each one almost as big as the runt that had spoken. I had no intention of taking crap from a pack of weasels. Mister G, the owner of the Starlight, was very clear on situations like this and as long as he kept the money flowing my way that was just fine with me.
"Christ," another of the boys swore. "I don't care what he looks like, we was sent to grab the cash box, Paulie, and we's doing just that!"
I tossed a quick glance over my shoulder and saw an overturned cart on the dock beside my security guys. Under federal law, a casino is required to financially cover every chip circulating on the floor, and since weekends are busier than a Tuesday, we need to bring more cash in to keep things legal. Price must have sent his boys over tonight in anticipation of that transfer. What an asshole.
"Take one step forward and I'll break your legs," I threatened, making sure to add a little rumble in my throat. Scaring the shit out of people can be just as satisfying as making good on the threats.
"Aw, fuck you, man!" the leader swore.
Just the answer I was hoping for. I could sense the other lackeys behind the leader getting ready to strike. The hairs on the back of my neck had started to stand up, meaning the tension in my own guys behind me was getting ready to overflow. The loading dock was tucked away behind the casino so we wouldn't have to worry about customers or people walking on the street seeing us. That was Vegas in a nutshell: always something going on behind the scenes.
I stuck an arm out in a motion for my boys to sit tight while I handled this. A few of them grumbled but knew better than to speak up. I took off my fedora and matching suit jacket, letting them both slip to the concrete. No need to mess up the threads.
I placed one fist inside the other and squeezed. The sound of my knuckles cracking was like a spine being snapped. It didn't phase the leader but his guys sure got a worried look on their faces. Damn smart to be scared.
Bravery apparently the only thing this mook cared about, the leader flicked open a butterfly knife with practiced ease and launched himself at me. I smiled. I doubted any of them would pull a gun since the noise might bring the cops around, but a knife? C'mon. He might as well be holding a toothpick.
I took a few steps forward and met the guy head-on…literally. Bending over I slammed the front of my forehead directly on top of his scalp, which wasn't easy since I was a couple feet taller than the guy. He fell to the dock in a heap, his knife clattering free of his puny hand. A red spot started to form under his head, which brought another smile to my face.
My pearly whites must have been just the trigger for the rest of Price's men. They all charged me at once, I guess hoping to find strength in numbers. These guys obviously knew nothing about real strength, because if they did, they never would have picked this fight.
I gritted my teeth and let them dog-pile on top of me. A couple were trying to punch me in the face while the rest simply tried to weigh me down. Not a bad strategy, really, except that it would take a hell of a lot more than these idiots to bring me down. Say something like a tank.
"You okay, big man?" one of the Starlight's security guards asked me. I tossed a glance back at the group, each of them ready to start swinging.
I closed my fist around the head of one of Price's boys and said, "Gimme a sec."
If the guy thought he was dreaming I'm sure me tossing his carcass into the brick wall woke him up. He bounced off the wall and fell beside his leader and didn't look like he would be walking again any time soon. His buddies continued to tickle me with their punches, the sight of two of their friends knocked out egging them on to win the fight.
Next, I reached over my shoulder and pulled another mook off of me, this one I swear had been biting me. Probably chipped a tooth, the little prick. I tossed him straight up into the air a couple dozen feet and grabbed another of his pals from off my back, cocking back my arm and steadying my aim. I threw him hard enough to slam into the first guy in midair before gravity had started pulling him. The momentum of the second guy carried them both across the loading dock and into the side of a white van we kept around for money transports.
After seeing my pitching skills the remaining guys let go of me and started to back away. "Now," I told my own boys.
The Starlight's security detail ain't the smartest in the world, but damn are they scrappers. I like to think I inspire them to fight dirty. After all, Vegas wasn't built without spilling a little blood, right? Whatever concepts you've seen in the movies aren't that far off from the real deal.
They knocked them over, took out their legs first, and then surrounded Price's leftovers. I heard a lot of muffled pleas but knew that they were falling on deaf ears. When I saw a tooth roll out from under the huddle I decided to call them off.
No need for body bags and a drive out to the desert tonight.
"Goddammit, Joe, I told you to leave me alone!"
Marlo Chandler slammed her front door and I was left standing there with egg on my face. Well, not really since there ain't much that can actually embarrass me. I just take what I want usually but that wasn't going to work with Marlo. She was better than that.
"Gimme a break," I hollered through the wooden door. "It's been one of those nights, babe."
"It's always one of those night, Joe."
She was right. Marlo was an aerobics instructor I had bumped into one night on the strip…sort of. It's complicated. Anyway, ever since I wandered in from the middle of nowhere and gotten myself a job at the Starlight I'd been trying to melt Marlo's heart. I don't know what it was about her but I couldn't get her out of my head. It's like there was something ingrained in my brain that she was worth all the trouble and insults. Suffice it to say she hadn't taken kindly to my gentlemanly advances. Maybe I just had a thing for redheads.
Like most people, she doesn't know who I really am. She thinks I'm your average Joe Fixit, Las Vegas bouncer and bodyguard. In fact, as far as the world is concerned the Hulk is as dead as a doornail and I have a new lease on life. No more being hunted by the government or crazy weirdoes in spandex. Even Banner had been pushed the back of my mind, unable to pop up and ruin things for me. Yeah, this place was a clean slate for me, and I wanted Marlo to be a part of that.
Too bad she hated my guts.
"C'mon, Marlo. Open up."
"Why? So you can creep out the neighbors more than you already are? What do you think is going to happen, Joe? Piss off."
Damn. It ain't easy to get under my hide. Trust me, I know. Here I was just trying to show her a good time, class all the way, and she acts like I'm going to rape her.
"It ain't like that, babe," I told her. I saw the curtains to the right of the door sway a little bit, meaning she was trying to peak out at me. That was good; it meant she didn't hate the sight of me. "I just thought maybe we could…catch a show or something. Ya know. A night on the town. See where it leads us."
Her hand appeared in the window, holding the curtain back just enough for her to peer out at me. "A show? Joe, something tells me you have more than a show on your mind."
"Ah, hell with ya," I shot back. A guy can only take so much. She wanted to act like she was too good for me? Fine. I can take a hint…but that don't mean I'm gonna stop trying. I'm not as stupid as that puny Banner, after all.
I have plans for this town, and it looks like it's about time to put them into motion. Once I get what's coming to me Marlo will think twice before slamming her door again.
High class, all the way.
"So, what you're telling me is that it's in my best interests to hire you."
I nodded my head. I was smart and so was he, which should be enough to get this deal going. I'm tired of all these pricks treatin' me like a lump of muscle. That was the old me, another person. Literally. Once I got this asshole to sign off on my offer I could work my way that much further up the ladder.
"But what of your current employer?" he asked me. Figured that'd be his first question. Guys like this have no trust. "I doubt he'd want to let you go, Mister Fixit. In fact, I might even say it would escalate our little war here to a whole new level."
"Even if it did," I replied, "with me on your side that war is as good as won."
"You're probably right!" he laughed. The sound of his guffaws made me want to puke but I kept a straight face and stood rigid. Always better to look intimidating than to show any other emotion. "You got a deal, Mister Fixit."
I uncrossed my arms and covered the gaping distance between us in one step, offering my hand to seal the deal. He took it and shook, even though his hand was only a third the size of mine. I'm not much for metaphors but I liked the look of his weak, pink hand in my powerful fist. In a way it showed how I would make things happen in the future.
"Glad to hear it, Mister Price."
This town was ripe for the pickin' and it was about damn time I got my cut.
CONTINUED IN CHAPTER TWO