The door was opened by Megumi in a black kimono, her dark glossy hair swept back. Behind her was a bright hallway. Marble floor, wide staircase, red papered walls and a monstrous chandelier hanging from the ornate plaster ceiling. The interior was a world away from the stark exterior.
Asenath glanced over a shoulder. “Apparently some of us know how to hide very well.” She found Megumi staring at her, almost accusingly.
“Come in.” The doctor stepped aside. Asenath and her gang filed into the hall. Megumi closed the door and bolted it.
“You live here?” Hondo tightened his eyes.
“Yes.”
“And you chose to work in the Crease?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
“Wow! You must have one big heart to go with them big titties.” Ragorne knocked elbows with Hondo. The wiser brother shook his head in bemusement. Both appeared uncomfortable when Megumi looked over at one of the doorways off the hall and said, “Come in and meet my friends, Chi.”
The boy let go of the door jamb he was hugging and came into the hall. He had a slight limp. The arm which hugged a knitted roo rat was disfigured by the familiar ropey flesh of a Twists’ sufferer. Unlike most, he had fought off the disease. He was one of the lucky ones.
“Hey there, little “un.” Ebo squatted down, the sheathed scimitar at his back knocking against the floor.
“Hey.” The kid tried a wave. Ebo waved back.
Megumi stroked the boy’s hair. She cleared her throat. “I must tell you that Chi is my son. I was afraid you wouldn’t come if you thought I was just some rich bitch looking out for her son.”
“We know that already.” Asenath considered the boy. “What we don’t know is why you spun us some yarn about a doctor’s surgery out the back of a whorehouse.” Her gaze flicked to Megumi, who was biting her bottom lip. “Why’d you think a sob story about your patients being picked off by Blood Worms would appeal more than the truth?”
Megumi shook her vehemently. “The doctor part was true, at least until I got married. Then things changed. Chi became my priority, especially when I realised my husband was not even close to the man I had thought him to be. When Chi became a prize to be fought over, I knew I had to get out of my marriage.” She held out her hands. “This was my parents’ house. I brought Chi here with his Nana. My patients from the Crease helped me track down your Tai Mowa gang. They said you could be hired to act as our protectors.”
Asenath wasn’t letting up. “But why lie?”
A housemaid wearing a plain apron and a careworn face appeared at the doorway. Megumi gave her son a hug. “Go with Nana now. She will fix you some yogurt and ruby fruit.”
The boy looked pleased. He hobbled back through the door.
Megumi dropped the act. She paced up and down the hall. “I didn’t think you would help, not if you knew the extent of my situation. Why would anyone help? It’s tantamount to suicide.”
Asenath sensed the gang getting edgy.
“What shit is this?” Ragorne slung his rock rifle down off his shoulder. His lips curled back from his teeth. “I’m not liking this situation one iota.” Ebo rubbed his chin. Lisimba glared off into the corners of the hallway.
Asenath shut them up with a hiss. “It’s not so different from the tale she told yesterday.” She eyed the doctor. “These old patients who told you where to find us, you still treat them?”
Megumi nodded.
“You treat all of them?”
“When I can. It hasn’t been easy for me to escape unnoticed.”
“Of course. The controlling husband. And do you still debt collect for the overlord you mentioned?”
“No.”
“So you treat these paupers for free, all the while flouting your husband’s rules and doing your old employer out of debt revenue?” Asenath managed a sour smile. She fed a hand behind Megumi’s neck and squeezed, offering comfort – or asserting authority. “Our doctor here is not a bad sort. But she does have one vivid imagination.” Asenath felt Megumi tense. She tightened her grip. “Friends, I’d like to introduce Megumi Midori, only her real name is Megumi Jun – wife of Akihiro, Showmaniese overlord and cold blooded killer.”
“Shit, Asenath. Shit!” Ebo looked like he might rip Megumi’s throat out.
“Akihiro’s wife? Good Souls almighty.” Lizzie-Anne aimed her rock rifle at Megumi’s head. “Shall I shoot her now or once she’s guaranteed us safe passage outta here?”
“Put the rifle down,” said Asenath. “Now!”
Lizzie-Anne did as told, but the gang looked primed to take Megumi apart. Asenath didn’t blame them.
“So who are we protecting Chi from really? Blood Worms or his father?”
Tears streaked Megumi’s face. She trembled under Asenath’s touch.
“I didn’t trust Akihiro not to sell Chi to them, to the Blood Worms. Chi is Showmaniese with AB negative blood type. He survived the Twists, which makes him a rare commodity.”
In the pause that followed Asenath assessed the situation. She had Akihiro’s wife and son – worth a fortune in ransom money alone. But Megumi had paid her dues in the dangerous if close-knit community in the Crease. Plus, Megumi’s son had already survived the horrors of the Twists; Asenath was damned if she was going to hand him over to his father or Blood Worms. In her mind’s eye, she saw Chi strapped to a mortician’s slab, a surgeon teasing out the boy’s innards and feeding in steel bones and wires. Asenath had lost too many friends and family members to that bloody trade.
But she was being presented with access to Akihiro and that was invaluable.
“Let them come. We bodyguard the boy. The mother fends for herself. You agree, ya?”
The rest held up their weapons and nodded.
“Thank you . . .”
Megumi would have said more but Asenath held up her hand. “Do not speak. We’ve had our fill of lies. Just show us the layout of the rooms and let us do our job.”
*
No one joined the Tai Mowa gang without expecting to make enemies; Akihiro Jun was one of the most powerful. His business interests spanned narcotics to whoring to extortion via a network of debt collectors. Asenath understood how Megumi as a young, impressionable doctor could have encountered the sharp-suited overlord and fallen for his good guy impersonation. She suspected the doctor had married Akihiro in ignorance and gone on to bear his child under the same illusion. When had Megumi seen the edge behind Akihiro’s charm?
Watching Megumi now, stood before a large, white-washed window in the drawing room, arms folded, Asenath couldn’t help feeling slightly sorry for her. She liked the way Megumi operated in the divide between wealth and poverty,
But the bitch had lied – and lied repeatedly. Now the Tai Mowa gang were in danger. Yes, they had chosen to stay, every one wanting a shot at one of the big bad overlords who left stains on their lives. But had they known the truth of the situation ahead of time, they could have offered up peace prayers, chosen their weapons with more care, even opted out if the spirit wasn’t willing. There would have been no judgement; each member of the Tai Mowa shared the same philosophy – that every man chose his own path.
But now Megumi had chosen for them and time had run out. Asenath heard the sound of a heavy implement strike the front door. Megumi turned sharply, the softness gone from her eyes. She had sense to stay quiet, even when the Nana came bustling in.
“What now, Miss? Chi is sleeping. Do I bring him downstairs?”
“You go back up and watch over him,” Asenath cut in. She looked at Megumi. “You too. Stay with the boy.”
Megumi went to leave. Asenath gripped her arm.
“What of your husband?”
Megumi’s eyes tightened.
“Kill him.”
*
The door splintered and swung open to reveal a broad Showmaniese with a smoke stick between his lips and a steel ramrod in hand. The man stepped back. Akihiro strode into the hallway, shouldered by gangsters. Asenath
stood at the bottom of the stairs, arms at her sides, scimitar in hand.
“Good evening, Akihiro.”
Akihiro smiled. His small black eyes were bright as a bird’s.
“I know you. Lady Killer, am I right? You like to brawl in the Hog Pit’s fight cage.” He glanced at his men. “You recognise her, right? She’s good.” Undoing his jacket button, he slid his hands into his pants’ pockets. “So, what’s the score, Lady Killer? Megumi pay you to play bodyguard?”
“That’s exactly the score.” She gestured to the doorways leading off the hallway. Each was occupied by one of her fellow Jeridian braves. Shoulders broad as rhinohorns. Mohawks spiked with green reed sap. Neck piercings glinting. Asenath held out her scimitar and pointed up. “Got a few nursemaids installed upstairs too.”
Akihiro tilted his chin and looked down his nose at her, exposing the black “V’ tattooed across his throat. “Is it inconceivable I should want to see my son? Or that I am entitled to object to my wife running away and taking Chi with her? You have met her – it is not out of the question that everything she has told you about me is a lie.”
Not remotely out of the question, thought Asenath. Then again, if Akihiro believed he could rewrite his malignant personality in her eyes, he was equally delusional.
“I have been employed to keep Chi safe from Blood Worms, and from you.”
“There are no Blood Worms after my son!” Akihiro rocked back on his heels, chuckling. “Megumi has woven a pretty tale no doubt, about how special Chi is – which he is, but I say that as a biased father – and about how I am willing to sacrifice my son for financial gain. I ask you, Lady Killer, do I strike you as that sort of a man?” Akihiro smiled again, revealing nothing except a gold-capped incisor.
Asenath stared at the overlord. “Do you remember Commodore Nefer?” Akihiro looked blank and she continued. “I trained under her command. When I knew her, she was a strong brave. Later she was reduced to poverty when the Twists struck. The disease could not be cured. Instead, Nefer was reduced to debt collecting for a Showmaniese overlord. When she became too sick to work, the overlord ran her through with his sword. This I learnt after the fact.” She showed her teeth. “I not only believe, but I know you are the kind of man to sell your son to Blood Worms. Throw your wayward wife into the bargain too, ya?”
Akihiro’s smile stiffened. “Now that’s a shame, Lady Killer. I hoped you had brains as well as brawn. I am not a kindly enemy. Why antagonise me?” He took his hands out of his pockets and folded his arms. “I presume your friends have their own motives for taking against me?”
Each Jeridian knocked the flat of a hand against their throats, a traditional insult and one which stressed revenge.
Akihiro nodded. “Okay then.” He glanced to either side. “Karera o korsu!” he told his men.
Asenath didn’t speak Showmaniese but she understood the command to kill. She glanced up in praise of Mama Sunstar and requesting the deity’s protection. Ebo, Lisamba and Hondo offered their own prayers. Lowering her eyes, she saw them draw their scimitars from back holsters. Asenath gripped the handle of her own.
Akihiro’s men split into four units. She made a swift assessment of the slim, suited gangsters with lemony skin, high cheekbones and the traditional “V’ tattoo at their throats. Street fighters without code or honour – which meant, in spite of the odds, she and her fellow braves stood a chance.
Her fight instinct kicked in. The five gangsters allocated to her charged at the steps. She drew her scimitar around and up in a blur of silver. Two men produced rock pistols. Three wielded tanto short swords. Akihiro really did believe in the look of his men being as important as their abilities; Asenath hoped to use that to her advantage.
A shot from one of the rock pistols skimmed her ear, burrowing itself into the wood of the stairs. Asenath took the opportunity to dip down alongside the shooter before he could reload. There was no room for maiming in this game; she dragged her blade across his tattooed throat and was already dodging shots from the second shooter before the first hit the ground. Rock ammo was crude, the pistols and rifles prone to violent kickback and miscalibration. Firing at short range increased the accuracy. Fortunately Asenath had three swordfighters between her and the second shooter.
Maintaining her higher ground on the staircase, she wove her blade back and forth in front of her, daring the swordsmen to strike. They took it in turns in wade in. The first used his tanto like a staff, blocking Asenath’s slices but unable to get a hit in. He exhausted himself and started to back off when the shooter missed Asenath but made a mess of the swordsman’s ear. The man yelped and clutched his bleeding head.
Asenath was distracted by the second swordsman who proved nimble on his feet, matching her for grace as he arched to avoid her blade. The chimes of swordplay came at her from all directions. Her braves were performing their own violent choreography. The air stank of sweat and spark powder.
If the gangster matched Asenath’s grace, he couldn’t match her relentlessness. The scimitar sliced his shoulder. Blood welled where his suit tore and he backed off quickly, face contorted against the pain.
As the third opponent powered forward, tanto in hand, Asenath felt a rip of pain at her outer thigh – rock shot. She cursed, skidded under the swordsman’s arm and dragged her blade across the shooter’s chest. The pistol fell from the man’s grip; she caught it in her free hand and turned sharply. The third swordsman received a short range blast to the throat. The man slumped to the floor, gagging on his own blood.
The victory was short lived. Asenath heard a roar from one of her own – Ebo. Her gaze whipped over to the doorway he’d been guarding. The brave had fallen to a gangster’s blade. He fought on, teeth stained red, the blade’s hilt jutting from his ribs.
Asenath threw back her head and sang an eerie, warbling note which cut through the crush of blades and grunts of men. Whirling around, she sliced the throats of the two injured gangsters who’d backed away. She charged to Ebo’s side. Too late to save him; he’d been cut too many times.
She tore into the gangsters, severing a carotid artery, a jugular, the ligaments at the back of a third’s knees.
“Moj nagradu!” My prize. she cried, beheading each. She met Ebo’s gaze. He blinked in acknowledgement. His chin rested forward on his chest. Asenath offered up a second war cry.
Turning to the fray, her instinct was to help Lisamba and Hondo. But she saw Akihiro and several gangsters at the top of the stairs.
“Go for Akihiro!” shouted Hondo.
She offered up a prayer for the braves locked behind walls of swords, and slit the throats of two shooters positioned near the front door. Now the battlefield was even, she reasoned, taking the stairs three at a time.
The sound of gunfire told her that Akihiro’s men were attempting to clear a path through Ragorne, Lizzie-Anne and Arlene, who fired back. Her people had the advantage, having built a blockade from a wardrobe and a strip of corrugated iron which had covered a wood chute outside. Asenath heard the pings of rock salt bouncing off the sheet metal.
Reaching the top of the stairs, she pulled up sharply and peered around the corner to see figures on the landing, all dressed in sharp suits and cream fedoras. It was impossible to distinguish Akihiro from that angle. No matter. She would work her way through the gangsters until he was the last one standing.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of wood splintering and a scream. Asenath recognised the voice as Lizzie-Anne’s. Judging by the strength of the cry, the girl had received a serious wound. The barricade would not survive much longer.
Asenath stepped out onto the landing, the blade of her scimitar bowing out from her side like a claw. She ran forward and sliced the throats of four gangsters as easily as threshing grass. The last managed a strangled cry as he died, alerting the rest to her presence. She saw Akihiro direct a couple of fighters and a shooter her way then give his attention back to having the barricade cleared.
The gu
nman peeled off a couple of shots. Asenath snaked to avoid the blasts. Her mouth tensed. She hated shooters – no elegant combat, no skill, just point and click. How was she meant to concentrate on swordplay with those stinging rocks careering her way? She charged at the two fighters, dropped to her knees and slid between them, her blade cracking off one man’s ribs and then the other’s.
She forgot them instantly. Lizzie-Anne, Arlene and Ragorne were engaged in a scuffle at the door to Megumi’s bedroom. Lizzie-Anne was tucked behind a low divan, spraying rock shot from a rifle, her face distorted in pain. Ragorne had disarmed Akihiro’s shooters with his ranch whip, cracking it off any skull in reach. Arlene had a look of grim determination. She peeled off shots whenever a Showmaniese gangster made a dash at them.
Asenath was running at the gangsters when she spotted a mine cone device in one man’s hand. The pin was pulled, the cone turning liquid silver. She pulled up sharply.
“Grenade!” she cried over the noise of gunfire.
The mine cone was thrown clear, the conical design protecting those behind from the sonic pulse which visibly arched out, vibrating off the walls and furnishings, and incapacitating her gang.
Asenath felt a tug of dread in her stomach – she was hopelessly outnumbered. The panic switched to relief as Hondo and Lisimba arrived on the landing beside her.
“Mine cone,” she mouthed, registering their disbelief. The weapon was costly technology, usually restricted to government warfare. Akihiro had to have friends in high places, or at least be lining the pockets of a corrupt official.
“Protect the others until they recover and don’t let the bastards release another grenade,” she told the Jeridian braves while watching a figure break off from the other Showmaniese, try the bedroom door handle then produce a key. “Akihiro,” she said under her breath. Leaving Hondo and Lisimba to make their presence known, she sidled up to the bedroom door and slipped noiselessly inside.
Fight Like A Girl Page 9