The Warriors 2: NYC Grudge

By: Ryan Blank

Original The Warriors characters and ideas: Walter Hill and Rockstar Games.

Chapter 1: Posers

1:48 AM

May 13, 1980

Coney Island, C.I., The Big Coney, whatever you want to call it. To some it's just another tourist trap for chumps from New England, or families whose kids "need" to ride the "Wonder Wheel". But Coney is my home, my turf, and my life. I've only been a Warrior for six months, but I feel like the lieutenants are finding me to be more than just a solider-ing "Young Blood". Let me just say that I can really handle a rumble if somebody wants to throw down. Even Snow says that my martial arts are top notch.

Things have changed a lot since that big night where New York froze as the "Magic Man" Cyrus took the fall. The Gramercy Riffs got us the rep we deserve when they found the Rouge responsible for their leader's death. Needless to say, the Rouges have been wiped off the map. Swan, our old warlord, delved too far into his relationship with this chick, Mercy, and has a ring on his finger. But they moved to Las Vegas and left the rest to us. Now Vermin is warchief and running all of Coney. Protection money has gotten us a new TV, weight set and even a vending machine for beer and cigarettes. Everybody has put on more muscle, even our artist Rembrandt. Cochise has offered to teach us how a Warrior cuts a rug, but nobody seemed interested. Yet not too much else has changed according to Vermin.

Two o' clock AM rolled around as I talked with Snow about our next move on the Electric Eliminators.

"But Cochise is right," he explains, "Those shiny yellow pricks are cramping our style anyway. Besides, they already tried to army through our turf once before."

"Regardless man, a move on them would get us some nice subway control and if we can get up there, the Hi-Hats can't bring us down again. Plus the Panzers are a pretty rough set, ya dig? We might need to show them we can bop with the best of New York."

"Man, the Panzers ain't nothin'!" I criticized.

Snow just scoffed, smiled and walked away.

Suddenly Rembrandt enters the hangout for the first time that night.

"Hey Picasso," shouted Vermin, "You mind spending time with your gang for once? This is the third time this week! And it's Tuesday!"

"Sorry warchief," said Rembrandt, "It was really important."

"Well then why don't you give us a word little man," asked Cowboy.

"Um..." Rembrandt paused, "It's kinda a secret."

This was followed by some "ohh's".

"Shit, I know what's goin' on man," Cochise pointed out, "Rembrandt's got himself a little lady!"

"Hey shut up," Rembrandt protested, but was being shaken and hooted at.

"So what's her name bro?" Cochise continued, "She stacked? She like it rough?"

"Hey, come on." Rembrandt tried again to quiet them, "I'm not Ajax."

The laughter died down slowly after the comment.

"Ajax man... what you think he's doing now?" Cowboy asked staring off at the window. Ajax was one of the roughest and toughest soldiers to ever put on a red Warriors vest. A huge man with a rock hard build, he would throw punches before even knowing how much cash is in your pockets. Never one to back down to a fight, and always one to hit it off with the ladies, he was one of our most valuable players for the time he lasted. But he got busted by a lady with handcuffs, a whistle and a link to the cops in the park in the exodus from the big meeting a year ago.

"Let's just hope he ain't the chick in the relationship," Vermin said, "If you know what I mean, eh?"

We all enjoyed a good laugh and downed another beer. I was getting ready for our visit north to the Eliminators. Snow and me took turns beating the punching bag with a heavy barrage of punches and kicks.

"So Snow," I asked, "your warlord tonight. Who's solidering?"

"Check it," Snow answered, "We got my man Cochise, you, me, Cody, Rex, Crash and Lenny. Subway leaves in half an hour."

"So what are our odds?"

"These lame fucks don't have a chance. Buncha' skinny white boys in shiny jackets their mommas' probably made for them."

"You packin'?"

"Don't need to man. Got arms and legs, dig?"

"Any odds we'll run into cops?"

" Yo man what's with all the questions?"

"Sorry, I just don't know these cats too well."

"Turk, you gotta' calm down. I got your back, honest."

"Thanks man."

Snow was our current badass brawler. He joined up with Ajax and showed New York that he could fight. A man of few words, he was tall with an even taller afro and a cool headband. He must have been at least half black, but it was hard to tell. He was not as well built as Ajax, but knew his martial arts to a very deadly point. That is probably why we hit it off so well. Maybe I'll rumble against him some day and see if I got what it takes.

"Three a' clock," he said, "Let's bounce."

Very few people roamed the street at this hour, especially when they knew we had the streets. Anybody who saw us turned the other direction when we gave them a stern look. Coney patrons have learned to fear us by now, and we would not want it any other way.

At the platform, we waited for the subway to pick us up. Cochise was cracking his knuckles and then his neck. He was another early Warrior. Originally from Harlem, he showed Cleon and the guys that he can bop and groove to his own style. Not the brightest bulb on the team, but resourceful nevertheless. If anything, he knows the streets better than most of us and can negotiate with the right people when the time is right.

We finally boarded the subway and headed toward Soho. I read the map on the wall to see how many stops we had before Broadway.

After fifteen minutes, our stop was next and Snow gave us some words.

"When we get there," he said, "Don't go lookin' for trouble with the Panzers if you see any. And definitely avoid any and all Hi-Hats. They really have it in for us and you never know what they're plannin'."

The Hi-Hats were one of the odder gangs in New York. They dress like mimes in top hats and pack knives; not the most pleasing image. They had it in for us since last year when we totally trashed their leader's art gallery. The fat, stuttering asshole, Chatterbox, was less than pleased. He ordered an attack on Coney, but ended up dead. But that goes without saying, you don't go messing with the Warriors' rep. As of now Chatterbox's understudy, Crackerjack, has not even touched us. But like Snow said, "they really have it in for us".

We got off at our stop and took to the streets. Cochise thought to check near the apartments. We roamed for a while until we came near the outskirts of a parking lot.

It was there we found three Eliminators under a streetlight near a run down warehouse we assumed was their hideout. One of them saw us and drew attention to the other two. They stood their ground as we approached. Cochise stepped ahead of us and spoke.

"You suckers don't look like you know how ta' bop," he said.

One of the Eliminators gave him a hardly threatening evil eye. He was medium height, black hair that went down to his neck and a purple t-shirt under his classic shiny yellow jacket.

"You chumps won't get far marching on our turf," he replied, "Now how about you pack up and leave before our soldiers take you out."

"Don't you get it man?" Snow said, "You fools are the lamest outfit around. Buncha' honkies prancin' around in yo' stupid yellow jackets. You think the other sets take you seriously?"

The Eliminator stumbled on his words. His face was turning red as he marched over to us with the other two.

"Your gonna' regret comin' up here Warriors," he warned.

He stared down Snow for about a minute. The guy in the center looked ready for blood, but the other two seemed edgy. Then the center Eliminator raised his hands to shove Snow. But Snow grabbed his hands and twisted them upside-down as we heard a crack. He then launched him into the warehouse wall with a side kick. He crashed with a metal thud noise as he fell to his knees. I flew at the guy on the left with my elbow, but he covered his face. We stood off as I landed a few clean punches to his face and stomach. Fearing his loss, he tried to kick me in the balls but missed. At this, Rex grappled him from behind into a half nelson. I then smashed his mouth with my elbow. This time it was a direct hit. The last guy tried to run, but was cut off by Cochise who threw him against the warehouse wall. As he rose he was stricken in the head by a trashcan Cody had thrown. The first Eliminator suddenly grabbed me from behind and tried to pull my arms out of the socket by pushing on my neck in a full nelson. Luckily he was weakened and I managed to grab his hair and pull him over my shoulder as he landed hard on the ground. Lenney kicked him in the head one more time for good measure.

"Come on," Cochise demanded, "Let's waste some more! I'm just getting warmed up."

We continued to walk toward the warehouse and stopped. There were sounds from inside. Snow put his ear against the warehouse wall.

"I hear music," he said, "Crappy techno music."

"Hey I like techno." Lenney interjected. We just turned our heads and walked to the door. I had the honor of kicking down the door.

Inside we saw a bunch of the Eliminators gathered around in a circle. A few were on the outside talking with some chicks and one of them was disc jockey. In the middle of the circle, beneath the disco ball and black lights was an Eliminator "break dancing" like a poser. If there was one thing Cochise hated it was a poser. He wasted no time picking up a beer bottle on the floor and hurling it at the disco ball. The Eliminators covered their heads from the glass and then looked in our direction.

"You call that spinnin' and twirlin' shit dancing?" Cochise asked loudly.

The Eliminator that was dancing walked to him angerly.

"I suppose you know how to move?" he questioned, "Well then let's see it fool. You gonna' dance, or are you gonna'..." he did the wave with his shoulders and brought out his arm to Cochise's face, "Talk to the hand?"

"Ho-lee shit," Cochise said slowly, "You cats are even weaker than I thought!"

Suddenly the music started. Once again it was a funky techno beat, almost space aged. Cochise started off with some swaying and hand rolling, then the wave to finger point. The Eliminator slid side to side with some short kicks and then a strange tap dance to finger point. This time Cochise switched his legs back and forth, spun and sunk down to a split on the floor. He then picked himself up by the collar and pointed to the Eliminator. Us Warriors cheered for Cochise and gawked at his opponent. The Eliminator did a weak version of "The Robot" then popped out his arms and spun. We booed at him and watched Cochise finish him off. He did a sort of fake faint to the floor where he landed on his hands behind him and proceeded to spin on his back for longer than I thought possible. He then lifted his legs up and spun on his head until he pushed back up to his feet. Loud cheers from us and even some Eliminators followed.

"Like I said," Cochise told them, "You suckers don't have a clue. Your set is weak!"

"You really think so Warriors?" yelled a voice from behind us. We looked to see one of their soldiers lock the door we came in from. "Let's see how tough you really are!"

"Oh shit!" Rex said, "It's a trap!"

But we tried to keep cool and stood in a circle watching the yellow jackets close in on us.

"Okay here's the plan," Snow whispered, "We bolt in different directions and grab a weapon or something. Move quick and don't get wrecked young bloods."

The Eliminators got closer with hatred in their eyes and evil in their smiles.

"Now!" Snow yelled as we broke off in a scattered formation. I rushed one of the Eliminators and ran for a chair on the floor. As I was attacked I swung it hard as it broke over an Eliminators head. I kicked another one out of the way to grab a remaining leg of the chair and battered a guy in the stomach before I whacked him across the face. As I tried to hit another, he ducked and grabbed a chair leg. He thrust in into my chest and I yelled in pain dropping my weapon. He swung for my head, but I managed to avoid him and tackle him to the floor. He pushed me as hard as he could but I kept grip and smacked him with my elbow twice. He finally stopped moving as blood flowed from his mouth. Then the Eliminator I had kicked earlier kicked me in the spine from behind. I fell to the floor and tried to find my attacker. He ran at me trying to body slam me but I was able to push out my leg and launch him over me. He crashed into a wall and landed headfirst.

I saw Cochise and Snow smash two Eliminators into each other. Lenney squared off with another and caught him with a vicious right hook. Crash was busy throwing an Eliminator into a table and body slamming him to break it (he could be the next Ajax). Cody was rubbing his shoulder in the corner around some fallen soldiers and I caught Rex stomping on another.

"Come on," Snow said, "Let's get outta' here."

As we left, Rex marked a red "W" on the wall with his spray paint over one of the Eliminators' tags. By now it was our calling card, "Warrior red".

We walked out of the warehouse together and talked about whose knock out was the best. Suddenly Snow looked up and saw somebody watching us. He was a good distance away when he turned and ran off. He had a painted white face, a red shirt, blue pants and a black top hat. He was unmistakably one of the Hi-Hats. I wondered what that dude was doing alone looking at us. Maybe they heard the rumble and came down to secure their turf. In any case it did not matter. We caught the four o' clock train back to Coney Island. We were a little bumped and bruised, but it was not too bad for one night of army-ing.