The Night Market (17 page)

“Money
is always good,” he said with a gap-toothed grin. “How much you got?”

“None
of your damn business. You got the shit?”

“Oh,
we have it,” he said, giving each of his men a rather deliberate grin before he
started fumbling with something behind the counter. “Don’t worry about that.
How much were you looking for?”

“Everything
you got.”

Jenny
strode forward and the men behind her shifted nervously. But all she did was
lean her elbows on the counter. She then rested her chin in the palm of her
hand and stared unnervingly at the man on the other side.

“Alright,
let me see. I could part with... let’s say... a gram of Azure, and two doses of
AHS-125.”

Jenny
sighed theatrically.

“Give
me a break. I thought you guys were drug dealers. You are drug dealers, right?
You are in the business of selling this shit? Because I’m starting to think
that I’m wasting my time here.”

The
man behind the counter looked appalled, though Yael could tell that it was a
bargaining gimmick. He glanced at her covetously, and Yael knew that he wanted
to conclude the deal as quickly as possible. She clamped down on her thoughts
before they could run any further in that direction.

“I might
let a bit more Azure go, but two doses are all I got of the 125.”

“What?
Word I got was you were big time. Guess everybody was wrong...”

He
puffed up proudly.

“We
are the biggest in town. But there isn’t much call for the 125. How about two
grams Azure?”

Jenny
muttered blackly under her breath for a moment.

“Fine,”
she huffed. “Let me see it.”

“We
still need to discuss payment.”

“Oh,
whatever,” Jenny groused. “How much you want?”

“I
like round numbers, myself. How ‘bout a thousand?”

Jenny
pursed her lips and whistled.

“No
fucking way. Not in this lifetime. Five hundred.”

“You
have somewhere else you can go? I don’t think so. You would be lucky,” the man
insisted, folding his arms across his chest, “to get ten milligrams downtown,
though you are welcome to try. Nine-fifty.”

“Bullshit.
Two grams? I could get that on the street. Six hundred.”

“Yeah?
You know any street dealer that has AHS-125? Because I would be very fucking
interested in that information. I’ll go eight, but only if you show me your
tits.”

“That
would be a first for you, wouldn’t it? I’m not running a charity for virgins,
asshole. Six-fifty.”

“Whatever,
bitch. I’ll do seven-fifty, just to get you out of here. Final offer.”

“’Kay,”
Jenny said abruptly, with a manic grin. “Lemme see it first.”

“Of
course,” the man behind the counter agreed, pulling a key from a pocket in his
leather vest and unlocking something that was hidden from Yael’s view. He placed
two plastic ampules and two small bags of crushed blue leaf on the filthy glass
countertop. “It’s good shit.”

Jenny
leaned forward to get a closer look, licking her lips, eyes rapt. The scarred
man behind her moved quickly and quietly, closing the distance between them.
The man behind the counter nodded shortly, and Jenny appeared not to notice.
Yael wanted to scream, wanted to say something, but the sheer awfulness of the
room paralyzed her. It was all happening so fast.

Fortunately,
Jenny didn’t need a warning.

The
scarred man dove for her, but he grabbed nothing besides air. Jenny dropped
beneath his arms, then elbowed him viciously in the midsection. She took him
down in one fluid motion, grabbing him by the back of his head and driving her
knee into his face. His nose practically exploded before he fell over.

“Hey,
Yael,” Jenny said, winking in her direction. “Keep your head down.”

Yael
obediently dove to the ground, Jenny’s flippant wink freeing her from the grip
of her fear, replacing it with anger and grudging admiration.

The
man behind the counter produced a shotgun, the old kind with two barrels
side-by-side, while the fat man with gold teeth howled and charged Jenny with
arms scraping the floor like an ape. The woman on the mattress retreated as far
as the corner of the room would allow, drawing her legs up and giving Yael a
rather unfortunate view of her nether regions. Then she began to wail like a
banshee, the sound somewhere between laughter and a scream.

Jenny
didn’t wait for the fat man to come to her. She met him halfway, slipping a
wild haymaker and then driving the top of her head into his solar plexus, her
skull bouncing off his chest as if she had hit a wall. He fell to his knees and
she moved around him, grinding her toe into the instep of his left foot as she
pivoted. Jenny whipped the cord she had used as a hair-tie around the fat man’s
massive throat and crossed the ends into a crude knot. She pulled with her
whole body, bracing her knee against the center of his back for leverage,
ignoring occasional slaps from his flailing arms.

The
man behind the counter fumbled shells into the gun and took aim. Jenny twisted
the cord and shifted her weight, forcing the fat man up while she crouched
behind. His ample chest was enough to absorb both barrels, his bulk shielding
Jenny from the blast. She ripped the cord free and kicked the fat man aside,
his body tumbling to the floor, motionless and bleeding, his face swollen and
vividly purple. Cursing, the man behind the counter tried frantically to reload,
shells spilling from his shaking fingers.

He
just managed to finish loading, but he never had the opportunity to fire. Jenny
vaulted the counter feet-first, planting one sneaker directly in his face and
knocking him from his chair. He raised the shotgun, but Jenny batted it aside
and then delivered a brutal kick to his face, snapping his neck back. He fell
to his hands and knees, blood leaking from his mouth while he crawled
aimlessly. Jenny raised the chair he had been sitting in above her head, and
smiled at the pathetic noise he made, begging for mercy with a broken jaw.

Yael
closed her eyes to spare herself the finale and kept them closed until the
noises stopped. She turned her head before she opened her eyes, in time to see
the guard from the outer door burst into the room, waving an enormous revolver
around dramatically.

“Jenny!”
Yael screamed, her hands digging frantically through her belt pouch.

The
sound of the revolver discharging was dull and distant in comparison to the
roar of the shotgun, and the shot went wide, knocking out one of the inactive
lighting fixtures overhead, filling the air with dust and powdered glass. Jenny
took the opportunity to duck behind the counter, reaching for the discarded
shotgun. The revolver jumped in the guard’s hand again, and the bullet punched
through the glass counter and into Jenny’s shoulder, knocking her to the ground.
Jenny whined with pain as she crawled, her fingers closing around the shotgun.
Yael scrambled across the floor, staying low and hopefully outside of the shooter’s
vision.

The
third round hit Jenny in the side with a frightening, meaty sound.

Yael
brought the titanium spike down with both hands, driving it through the leather
of the man’s shoe and into the meat of his foot. She kept pressing until she
felt the tip break through the sole of his shoe and scrape the ground, until he
kicked her away while howling in pain and rage.

The
shotgun went off in Jenny’s hand. Yael watched the man crumple with a guilty
sort of satisfaction.

“Ow.
Shit. Ow,” Jenny said, using the shotgun as a cane to help her to her feet.
“Fuck me, but that could have gone better. You okay, Yael?”

Yael
nodded. The side of her face was sore where the man had kicked her, but nothing
had broken. One of her ears had been clipped by a stray shotgun pellet, but it
was hardly even bleeding.

“Yes.
What about you – are you okay?”

Jenny
did not look okay. She moved slowly as she reloaded the shotgun from the pile
of spilled shells on the countertop, swearing and wincing, using only one of
her arms. Her other arm clutched at her wounded side, hiding the extent of her
injuries from Yael. Blood dripped on the carpet all around Jenny’s shoes like a
leaking faucet.

“What?
This? Oh, yeah. I’m pretty much...”

Jenny
paused and aimed the shotgun at the man she had battered with the chair, still
twitching on the ground next to her. She discharged both barrels, deafening
Yael all over again.

“...fine.
I could use a hand, though, if you don’t mind helping...Yael? Could you help me
out here?”

Jenny
turned slowly, leaning on the empty shotgun. Yael was trying to hold perfectly
still, which was quite difficult, given the mostly-naked woman holding a box
cutter to her throat. Her hands shook so badly that it kept nicking Yael’s
neck, starting little rivulets of blood that tickled her as they dripped.

“You
wanna let her go, bitch,” Jenny ordered, sliding over the counter in obvious
pain. “Then you get to walk away. Nobody cares about you.”

“You
killed them,” the woman blubbered, sobbing into Yael’s hair. “You killed all of
them!”

“I
didn’t kill you, though,” Jenny pointed out, continuing her hobbled and
relentless advance. “Mistake on my part. What’s it matter to you? There’s
always demand for whores. Why don’t you find another gang to pimp your ass?”

“They
will kill me,” the woman sobbed, waving the razor around wildly, petrifying
Yael. “You know that. No one will ever take a chance with me, not after
something like this!”

“So?
I got my own problems. Tell me this, though – how does cutting the girl fix
anything for you?”

The
woman took a step back and almost fell over, steadying herself with Yael’s
shoulder at the last moment. The razor dug into her neck and Yael cried out, certain
that she was about to die,  scattered drops of blood dotting the front of her
shirt. Jenny limped forward, bracing herself with the empty shotgun and
whatever else became handy.

“Back
off or I will kill her! I will!” The woman was shouting, hysterical.

“Let’s
say you do that. What do you think will happen then? Do you think you can kill
me, too?”

“I
don’t – you stay back. I will...”

“...kill
her. Yeah, you said that. Explore the possibility a little further. What is it
that you think will happen when we are alone, bitch? Do you want that?”

Jenny
was injured, but relentless. The woman wavered and Yael allowed herself a
glimmer of hope.

“You
try and work in this town, another crew will probably kill you to be certain
you didn’t have something to do with this. That’s what you are worried about,
right? Well, pardon me for saying so, but your priorities are all fucked up.”

“I’m
warning you...”

Jenny
shuffled closer.

“Don’t
do it.”

“Last
chance, I swear! I will kill...”

“I
heard you. But you better not even try.”

“What?”

“’Cause
if you don’t do what I tell you, then the shit I will do to you will be
so
much worse. When I am done with you – and that will take a
long
time –  you’ll
still be alive. You don’t know what I’m capable of. I’m going to start with that
razor of yours, bitch. Tell me – which do you like better? Your eyes or your
thumbs?”

“Stay
away!”

The
woman tripped over something. Yael saw her opportunity and shoved her elbow into
the woman’s midsection to make space between them, struggling to break free
from the arms wrapped around her.

It
didn’t work. Tumbling backwards, pressed against the chest of a half-naked
woman, Yael could only watch the razor move inexorably toward her throat. When
it finally buried itself in flesh, even the sound hurt.

Yael
didn’t immediately realize that was the only thing that hurt. The razor
remained inches away from her throat, suspended deep between the index and
middle fingers of Jenny’s right hand.

“I
told you not to do that!” Jenny shrieked, shaking her hand until the razor fell
out. She lunged at the topless woman, lashing the shotgun across her face,
shoving Yael aside in the process. “Didn’t you hear me?”

Jenny
planted one foot on the woman’s sternum, eyes burning, and shifted her grip on
the shotgun.

“Jenny...”

Yael’s
voice was nothing more than a whisper.

“I
told you not to do that, bitch! I told you!”

Jenny
slammed the butt of the shotgun against the crown of the woman’s head, the skin
peeling back to expose a few inches of white skull. Yael didn’t close her eyes
in time to avoid seeing it, and somehow, she couldn’t seem to once it started. Jenny
struck the woman again, shattering her jaw and splattering the drywall with
teeth and blood. The woman couldn’t scream any longer, she just whined and
moaned hideously, like an injured animal. Jenny hit her with the stock of the
gun again. The woman fell to the ground, face down and still, but Jenny didn’t
stop beating her. Yael watched without realizing that she was mumbling virtually
silent pleas for Jenny to stop.