by Sonya Clark
***
If there was ever a time to embrace the idea of being a ghost, it was now. Dani kept to the pools of darkness created by broken street lights, those stretches getting longer and longer the closer she got to Stockyard. An abandoned factory marked the far western edge of Cabrini. The next half mile looked like a war zone. Empty lots full of trash and overgrown weeds. Burned out buildings and cars. Signage decorated with bullet pockmarks and pot holes in the street older than she was and big as craters. A rancid mixture of garbage, human waste, and chemicals burned the air.
She dialed her hearing and night vision nearly all the way up. As far as she could tell, no one was around. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Acid churned in her gut and tension pinged along her nerves like an out of tune piano. This was by far the stupidest thing she’d done yet. Her only backup was a getaway driver waiting several blocks away. She had only three weapons: a folding knife in her boot, pepper spray in her back pocket, and a sixteen inch baton hidden in Kevin’s jacket. She hadn’t asked for a gun for this, and he hadn’t offered. Hell, she’d had less than that going into the house in Lincoln Heights.
Well, she did have one more weapon: herself.
A howl sounded in the distance, starting up a call and response between several of the wild dogs that gave the area its nickname. She stepped up her pace, heading southwest. She’d never been this far into Stockyard and Dogtown territory but she had a general idea of where to find what the gang used as their headquarters.
Another two blocks and her enhanced hearing picked up the sounds of a party. The smells of smoke and weed were soon strong enough to cover the fetid stench. Dogtown central was located in what used to be a slaughterhouse decades ago. It was known as the Killing Floor.
Barrels formed a rough perimeter around the structure, some of them lit with fires. Dani skirted around to the north side of the building, listening for feminine voices and especially Russian. Little was left of the original equipment. It had all been sold off or stolen ages ago. Big opens rooms and a leaky roof didn’t make for very grand accommodations, but she’d seen people living in worse. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, because of what the building used to be, but she thought she could detect the stale, coppery scent of old blood.
An entrance big enough for loading and unloading trucks no longer had any kind of door. Five young guys stood gathered around a burning barrel just outside the entrance, talking and sharing a bottle. Their ages were indeterminate. She’d never come across a member of Dogtown who looked older than twenty-five. They were Lost Boys in a post-apocalyptic Neverland, if the Lost Boys had been vicious killers and their apocalypse the complete and utter devastation of their lives practically since birth due to drugs or abuse or abandonment. Part of her sympathized. A few more wrong turns in her own life and she could have wound up just like them.
No, that wasn’t true. She could have wound up used, chewed up and spit out by the likes of them. There were no girl members of the Dogtown crew, just girls they sold drugs to, girls they pimped, girls they hooked on drugs so they could pimp them out. Girls they used for their own amusement. Any sympathy she’d briefly entertained died with that thought.
Hiding in the tall grass of the open lot that butted up against the property, Dani crept away from the group. An unguarded entrance was what she needed. No sense in starting the fight any sooner than she had to. Finally she spotted the hole where a window used to be. She waited, listening, watching, to make sure she wouldn’t get caught. Satisfied, she dashed into the open. Flat against the brick façade, she repeated the process. Wait, listen and watch, move. She found toeholds in the crumbling brick and lifted herself up and through the window.
The space was dark and devoid of people. Her night vision showed scattered debris and makeshift pallets on the floor. The room stunk of urine and spoiled food. Sleeping in the streets would probably be cleaner. Whoever their leader was took shitty care of these kids. She kept to the walls and made her way to the room’s only door. The hall was clear.
Music and laughter came from the center of the building. There were so few lights, she wondered if their only power was from a stolen generator. Crouched in the hall, she worked on fine-tuning her hearing until she could pick out individual voices and put rough locations to them. Mostly male voices in the central gathering, with a few girls. One of them was crying softly. Dani’s concentration wavered. She clenched one hand into a fist and gave her thigh a moderate punch to force herself to focus.
Minutes ticked by. In that time she heard a lot of ugly stuff, a lot of stupid stuff, and finally a girl speaking with a thick Russian accent.
On the other side of the building. Where there were no windows or doors.
The poor lighting, her night vision, and her speed would all work in her favor. If everyone was too drunk or high to notice her, that would be great, too. She didn’t know who to ask for a boon such as that, so she just took a deep breath and went for it.
Light on her feet, she stuck to the shadows and made her way carefully, slowly, through the building. She stayed as far from the party as possible and reached her destination. A group of rooms that might have been business offices at one time had sheets and blankets hanging up instead of doors. Snoring came from behind one blanket, the sounds of a couple having sex from another.
Masha – hopefully – whispered from behind another makeshift door covering. Between her accent and the slurring of her words, Dani couldn’t make out what the girl said. Whatever it was, she didn’t sound happy to be there.
Whoever was in the room with Masha replied with a slap. Dani reached behind her back for the baton. The curtain opened and a man, barely more than a boy, stepped out. His shirt hung open and his pants were unzipped and hanging low enough to reveal his flaccid penis. Dani flicked the baton, the steel rod telescoping out to hit him in the genitals. He went down with a shriek.
It made for a hell of a way to announce her presence. She was really going to have to work on her anger management issues.
Two Dogtowners came out of a room at the end of the hall. They spotted her immediately and shouted a warning. Dani yanked the curtain down and ran to Masha’s side. The girl was near hysterics, babbling in Russian, tears running down her face.
Dani lifted her ski mask. “It’s okay. I’m gonna get you out of here.” She tried to take Masha’s hand but the girl scrambled into a corner. “Sveta sent me. Sveta.” Dani worked to put as much reassurance in her expression as possible. “I can take you to Sveta, and safety.”
“Sveta?” Masha wiped at her tears, mouth trembling. “You…you know Sveta?”
Dani opened her mouth to answer but she was cut off by a fist in her back. She lurched forward, catching herself before she fell onto the filthy cot. A footstep to her left scraped the floor and she swung the baton in that direction. Another satisfying scream of pain let her know she’d hit her target. She pivoted on one heel and kicked out with the other leg, her boot connecting with a face. A stream of blood arced through the air.
“Come on!” Dani grabbed Masha’s arm and pulled her from the room. The girl was unsteady on her feet, definitely traumatized and possibly doped to the gills. She’d be no use in the fight that was just moments away. “Keep close to the wall and watch out.”
Music boomed from the center of the building, the bass notes echoing and bouncing off the high walls and ceilings. Dani twirled the steel baton and stretched her neck from side to side. Adrenaline buzzed like a drug in her veins, seasoned with a lot of rage and more than a little bloodlust.
Try not to kill anybody, she thought. Unless you don’t have a choice.
In ones and twos and even threes, they broke away from their party and rushed at her. She moved without thought, powered by instinct and training. Being sober helped almost as much as the enhancements. Not that she didn’t take any hits – she’d ache all over tomorrow. But right now, tonight, she was a creature of righteous fury rather than flesh. She cut a swath through the Dogtow
n crew like they were made of butter, pushing closer and closer to the open loading dock. One eye on Masha most of the time, occasionally having to drag the girl.
Some part of Dani knew she was slipping in and out, not quite dissociating but almost. Splitting. In one moment, fully aware of where she was and what she was doing. The next, a black empty nothing. As long as she didn’t stop moving, neither side of that split could take hold and drag her down. If she kept moving, kept fighting, she could get the girl to safety.
If she never stopped running, she might outrun the echo of Molly’s screams.
Jagged shouts in a mix of English and Russian broke through the haze. Dani bent her knees and swiveled, using the baton to trip someone and following up with two quick blows. Masha stood at the door to the loading dock, the wind tangling her hair. A man stood next to her, his hand wrapped in a bruising grip around the girl’s slim upper arm.
Don’t leave me.
Bessonov.
Don’t you leave me with him!
Masha’s face became Molly’s. A fist caught Dani on the side of the head and she went down. Feet kicked at her. She swept out the baton to trip as many of them as possible.
Don’t leave me.
Somehow Dani got back up. Knife in hand, skin wet with blood. She stared as a thick red drop fell from the point of the blade. Her hand opened of its own volition, the knife clattering to the ground.
“You are a fearsome ghost.”
She looked up to see Bessonov grinning. “I’m not a ghost.”
“Then what are you?” So amused, like it was the cleverest joke he’d heard all day.
Dani struggled to bring herself fully into the moment, grabbing onto tiny details as fast as she could.
Stinks like cheap booze and pot.
Headlights outside, a black SUV parked near the barrel fire.
Music still on.
Dogtowners backed up like they’re gonna watch a show. Like they know Bessonov and maybe they’re afraid of him.
Every part of her body hurt. Good. It would help keep her aware. She took two steps forward and slipped her hand into her pocket. “Let her go.” She fumbled to send a text to Kevin, trying to keep the movement of her fingers inconspicuous.
Bessonov chuckled. “You know I won’t. She’s an investment.”
“She’s a person.” The baton was gone, lost somewhere in the melee. The blood-covered knife on the floor behind her. All she had left was the pepper spray in her back pocket.
The Russian laughed. “She is property.”
How could someone so evil have such a normal laugh? Everything about him seemed banal. Utterly unremarkable. Maybe violence was how he left his mark on the world.
Dani pushed down a swell of nausea. “You’re nothing but a lowlife thug, owned by the same people.”
The grin disappeared, the lines of his face hardening into a mask of hatred. “You killed friends of mine.”
She tried not to flinch. “I’ll kill you too, if I have to. Now let her go. Last chance.”
“Tell you what. One bitch is as good as another. You take her place, I let her go.”
If she could take him down fast, she wouldn’t have to worry about him having a stun gun or any other weapons. Fast, hard, broken bones but still breathing. She could do it.
“I’ll do it.” She raised her hands in surrender and eased closer. “Just let her go.”
Bessonov shrugged. “Okay.” He pulled a gun from behind his back and shot Masha in the head. Blood sprayed in thick spatters and her body dropped with a thud.
Dani screamed as she lunged at Bessonov. A kick sent the gun flying and bent his hand back at the wrist far enough to make him stumble. She pressed the advantage, raining blows on any and every part of him she could connect her fists and feet to. His nose crumpled with a sickening crunch from another kick. He fell backward onto the pavement of the loading dock. She dropped her knees onto his chest and used her weight to hold him down while she hit him. Over and over. Until her knuckles were numb. Until it was impossible to tell her blood from his. Until the flashes of black lasted just a few seconds longer, and then a few more.
Until her head split open, cleaved in two by electricity overloading her neural interface. She screamed her throat raw, scrambling to get away from the stun gun he’d produced during one of those moments she’d spent lost in the black. Bessonov chased her, albeit slowly, and hit her with the stun gun again. Her muscles contracted and locked and refused to work.
Another jolt, then another. He paid her back for every kick and punch, with interest. Her night vision flared a painfully bright green then winked out. She screamed again and managed to flip herself over by sheer force of will. Bessonov grabbed her shoulder and pinned her down, then held the stun gun against the middle of her back.
The electric shock screwed up her cochlear implant, causing painful spikes of shrill feedback. The interface crashed, creating stabbing sensations in her head. If she didn’t get away from him, she was going to have a stroke. She patted the ground around her in a vain search for something to use for a weapon. Nothing.
Bessonov turned her over. He slapped her, cursing in Russian. “I was going to kill you myself, but I think I’ll let my friends here take care of you. It’ll take longer. There’s a lot of them.”
Something dug into her backside and she remembered the pepper spray in her back pocket. She inched her fingers underneath her body and worked the cylinder free.
“Just fucking die, you piece of shit.” Weakly, she raised the pepper spray as high as she could and fired the liquid into his face. It caught him in the eyes, his stupid mouth hanging open, and all the open cuts and scrapes she’d given him. She mashed the button down until he ran away, covering his face and screaming.
Dani rolled to her side and began the arduous process of getting to her feet. Some of the Dogtown crew stepped out of the shadows. She could tell from their faces, no matter how they really felt about Bessonov, they weren’t going to let her walk out of their territory alive. She had no more fight left in her. She looked down at Masha’s body, only it wasn’t just Masha she saw.
Flickering headlights and the predatory growl of a stupid fast car pulled her attention from the ground. Shouts as people ran and dove out of the way. The car came to a hard stop ten feet from Dani. She forced herself forward and practically fell into the vehicle.
Kevin said, “Where’s the girl?”
Dani shook her head. “Go.” She huddled in the seat, close to passing out.
Mercifully, Kevin said nothing. Just drove, and when he could he rested one hand on her shoulder. The gentle touch was better than anything he could have said.
The streetlights blurred and ran together. Her neural interface continued its attempt to jackhammer her brain into mush. Every inch of her body burned with pain. Blood flowed from her nose in two thin, steady lines. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes to try to shut it all out. It even worked a little, mostly because Molly’s face – young and scared and begging not to be left behind – eclipsed everything.
Chapter 25
Kevin placed his sketchpad and pencil on the floor then flexed his stiff hand. The clock on the nightstand said twenty minutes to four, in the morning. She’d been down for over twenty-four hours. He’d slept some fitfully in the middle of the day. Mostly he’d watched over her, arguing with himself about whether or not to break his promise and call a doctor. Once she stopped tossing and turning so much and fell into a deeper sleep, he’d relaxed somewhat and started sketching. Every image of her face was shadowed with bruises. Just looking at her red and tattered knuckles made his own hands hurt. He hadn’t meant to draw her hands but when she lay with them on top of the covers, he’d stared until he had to exorcise the image by drawing it. So much power there, and so much damage.
Dani stirred in her sleep, whispering the same name that had slipped out a few times earlier. He abandoned his chair by the window and eased onto the edge of the bed. Smoothed her hair from
her brow then adjusted the duvet. Her breathing quickened and her legs moved restlessly under the covers. Whatever bad dream she was having, he decided to wake her up now before it turned into a full blown nightmare. He shook her gently and spoke her name.
She sat up so fast he had to scoot out of the way or they would have knocked heads. She stared at him, unseeing, for a long moment, then sat back against the pillows. “Everything hurts.”
He grabbed a water bottle from the nightstand. “Drink a little. It’ll help.” Once she took the bottle he reached for the first aid kit on the floor and found the bottle of leftover prescription pain pills he’d shared with her earlier. “It’s been long enough, you can take another one of these.”
She drank half the bottle before answering. “I don’t want it.”
He placed a single pill in his palm and held it out. Didn’t say a word. Just looked at her.
She relented. “Okay, fine.” Pill swallowed, she drank the rest of the water in silence.
He moved to sit next to her. “There’s nothing in the news about it.”
“Why would there be? Unless her body turns up.”
“What happened?” She’d been far too out of it to talk after he’d picked her up.
“The Russian’s name is Ilya Bessonov.” She screwed the cap back on the plastic bottle. “He was there. He shot her.”
Kevin drew in a ragged breath. He’d figured the girl was dead. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“How did you wind up in such bad shape?”
She shrugged, the movement followed by a wince. “I had to go through a lot of bad guys to get her through the building. Bessonov was at the loading bay door.”
Where he’d picked her up. “What happened to him?”
“I tried my damnedest to beat the hell out of him. He had his stun gun, so it didn’t…it didn’t go my way. I managed to nail him pretty good with the pepper spray, though.” She climbed out of bed, moving like an old boxer after way too many knockouts.