Chapter 29: Babysitting - The Night Market

The car rumbled beneath them like something alive, prowling through the skeletal remains of the city’s nightlife. Groups of weekend revellers had reduced to dregs. Some wanted to keep the party going; others were looking for other ways to enjoy the night. Streetlights skimmed past in rhythmic procession, casting flickers across the dashboard. Rain threatened above but hadn’t yet found its courage.

Laik drove one-handed, finger tapping on the wheel in annoyance. The Subaru’s engine hummed low – not showy, but ready to bite if asked. Swan sat slouched in the passenger seat, nodding along to some heavy synth wave with punchy vocals. The song felt perfect to play at this time, like the city was providing its own soundtrack.

‘You’re quiet,’ Swan said, voice low as soon as the track had finished.

Laik didn’t look at him. ‘I hate babysitting.’

‘You hate a lot of things. I’m amazed this one even makes the list.’

‘You know what I mean. You’ve seen her when she’s on one. She’s as dangerous as it gets and it’s never anyone else. It’s always me who picks up the pieces.’ Laik gripped the wheel tighter, turning. ‘Never anyone else. Just me. How come Mortis—’

‘Our boss,’ Swan reminded him.

‘—allows her to get in this state time and time again? He should just lock her up and throw away the key. For her own protection.’

‘I remember the exact same thing said about you once upon a time.’

‘I think you remember wrong. I dunno. I’m just not getting Mortis at the moment. All this drama with Horus and he’s just letting it happen. It’s not him out on the streets. We’re the ones who face the other Families. Calling him soft, and that. And when work needs to be done, I’m reduced to playing bloody taxi . . .’

Swan smirked, brandishing his phone. ‘Alright. Point made. So would you rather someone else do it? I can put the call in and we can turn back right now. It’s no problem.’

It took a couple of glances for Laik to deduce whether his partner was serious. He was.

‘Well, we’re almost here now . . .’ Laik grumbled, shifting himself in his seat.

The tyres hissed over wet tarmac. They passed beneath an overpass, its underside dripping and tagged with graffiti that no longer meant anything to anyone. The city was both empty and watching, like a stage after the final curtain.

‘You ever think about getting out?’ Laik asked suddenly.

Swan raised an eyebrow. ‘Of the car? I didn’t piss you off enough to throw me out while we’re moving . . .’

‘No. Getting out of this. Of all of it. The job. The Families. The night crawling. Just . . . giving it up.’

Swan inhaled through his nose as he gave it thought. ‘Don’t tell this to anyone. But yeah, once. A long time ago, must have been the Seventies, I think. All that business with Vietnam made me see things a bit different.’

‘Really? What made you change your mind?’

‘People like us don’t get to just walk away, mate. We’re an asset until we’re not. Then we become nothin’ but loose ends . . .’

They drove in silence for another minute. The glow of the Kingfisher’s interior rose ahead, humming its electric fatigue against the alley’s quiet.

They parked down the alley from the Kingfisher, tucked between a shuttered pawnshop and a fried chicken place still glowing in LED-blue. The bar’s heartbeat pulsed faintly through the backstreets, a 90s anthem powerful and raw. A couple staggered past, hand-in-hand, laughing breathlessly. Someone threw up behind a skip.

The alley was still slick from earlier rain. Their boots echoed across cobblestones as they approached the familiar figures of the door staff, nodding to the muscle in black jackets who gave them a look and a grunt. The venue was winding down.

‘Evening, boys,’ a slab of meat rumbled, nodding.

‘Any trouble tonight?’ Swan asked.

‘Just some scraps. Your girl’s just inside. Lucky for you.’

‘Lucky for her,’ Laik muttered under his breath.

Inside, the Kingfisher was winding down. Only the drunk, the desperate and the romantically doomed remained. A few lone figures took time to finish their drinks, or tried to flirt with bar staff that had long ceased to care.

Pepper stood near the entrance, arms crossed, biting at her nails. The stress in her eyes was obvious. The relief seeing the pair of them walk inside, more so.

‘Thank God.’ She exhaled. ‘I didn’t know who else to call.’

‘You did the right thing. Where is she?’

They followed Pepper’s gaze to the far end of the bar.

Quinn Cavendish was drunk. Not dancing-on-the-bar drunk. Not charmingly oversharing drunk. She was the kind of drunk you only got to when a bad break-up resulted in declaring war against people happier than yourself. She was slumped sideways on a stool like her spine had forgotten what posture was. Her hair was a mess, eyes heavy and unfocused, lips slightly parted as if still mid-sentence from hours ago. Her boots were mismatched. Her coat was half on, half off, and someone had written their phone number on her hand in biro. The infamous stuffed iguana protruded from the safety of an arm.

‘She left the tower without bringing any protection,’ Pepper murmured. ‘Thinking she’ll have a few drinks, be crazy, go home. This guy called me to come and collect her. When I got here, I realised this was more than a one-person job . . .’

Laik lowered himself and looked over her face with concern.

‘Quinn? You alright there, princess?’ he called. ‘You can’t sleep on a stool all night.’

She stirred, eyes fluttering.

‘Laik . . .’ she mumbled, attempting to lift her head. ‘Hey, sinner . . . Are you here for an operation as well? They say I got a monster in me too, so I may not make it . . . they’re gonna make it look like an accident . . .’

‘Uh-huh. What happened? Can you tell me that?’

‘I just . . . wanted a good time . . . I didn’t want to see her, y’know? I didn’t ask her to go away. I really did like her . . .’ She pouted suddenly, blinking wet eyes.

‘What’s she had?’ Swan asked, turning to the bartender. He filled in the gaps.

‘Cider, vodka, lager, schnapps. Shots of Jailbird. That’s what I know.’

‘Did she drop anything? Take anything?’ Laik added with a scowl.

‘Hey man, I got a business here. I can’t sit and watch every little thing going on with one crazy girl—’

Pepper, Laik and Swan rotated their heads in unison in his direction, their stare drilling deep. It was all it took to make him swallow his retort and answer their question.

‘I dunno, I didn’t see. She spoke to a lot of people tonight, you know how she gets – friend to everybody. If she wasn’t talking, she was arguing, if she wasn’t that she was dancing. She danced, she cried, she made out with a few, might have threatened to marry someone. Some of the things she was coming out with an’ all . . .’ He shook his head, as if the mere memory burdened him. ‘You need to keep that one in control. Whenever she comes on in, it’s always drama.’

‘You’re lucky we come in at all. You’ll take our money and be a damn sight nicer to the ones who keep you in business.’ Pepper narrowed her eyes. Anything else and she would eat him alive.

‘Ever seen a magpie with a scalpel?’ Quinn smacked her lips. ‘Buggers can fly . . .’

‘So, this is normal for her? Drunk normal? I honestly don’t know when her crazy turns into something we need to be concerned about.’ Swan looked to Pepper who gave a shrug.

‘Yeah, it’s basically just this most of the time.’

‘Okay,’ Laik grunted, rising. ‘Time to go.’

With practised ease, Swan and Laik each hooked an arm around her and hoisted her to her feet, her limbs rubbery and uncooperative. Outside, her boots skidded against the pavement as they guided her through the alley, the Kingfisher’s fading music still echoing faintly behind them. Pepper followed close behind. Quinn stirred, brows furrowing, eyes glassy with confusion.

‘Wait, where’s . . . where’s Mister Wiggles?’ she mumbled, squinting at her empty hands as though they’d betrayed her.

‘Got him right here,’ Pepper said gently, lifting the slumping animal in her arms as they kept walking. ‘He says not to worry.’

‘Liar,’ Quinn huffed, slurring the word as she turned her face into Laik’s shoulder. ‘He didn’t tell you a thing.’

‘And why not?’ Pepper humoured her.

‘Because he’s dead, stooopid.’

Swan glanced back, muttering under his breath, ‘We are not paid enough for this.’

‘You better not throw up in my car, Quinn,’ Laik warned her.

‘Don’t worry about that. I’m only sick if I’m running.’ She made a struggling smile. ‘Wait . . . you always been so handsome, or am I dying?’

‘Little of both, I’m guessing,’ Pepper replied with surprising edge.

They hit the ring road ten minutes later. The Subaru carved its way like a silver bullet, eating up the road before it. The city gave way to stretches of blur and lamplight, half-empty lanes ribboning ahead. The motorway lights cast long golden streaks across the windscreen, illuminating Quinn passed out in the back, cheek smudged against the window. Swan had pulled her coat around her and rested her head, so she didn’t bang it with every bump. Even if this wasn’t the case, he doubted that it would stop her snoring.

Pepper sat in the passenger seat, watching the citrus strobes wash over them in sequence. Her eyes flicked to Laik’s knuckles on the wheel, then to his face. She tried to keep her voice as low as possible so Swan couldn’t hear her over the road.

‘Thanks. For coming.’

‘It’s nothing,’ Laik mentioned.

‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘It really isn’t. It helped me out of a pinch.’

‘That’s what big brothers do, right?’

Pepper moved her head to look out her window.

‘Jackass.’ She covered her smile with her hand.

‘You think it’s real what she’s doing?’ Swan suddenly piped up, leaning between the seats.

Laik frowned. ‘What?’

‘Quinn. Getting drunk like this. Upending everything.’

‘I guess the Viola thing rattled her more than she let on.’ Pepper sighed. ‘Viola served for over a century . . . Very few people tolerate Quinn’s presence as she’s so off the wall. To lose someone so routine in her day-to-day probably can’t be easy to process with her . . . condition.’

‘When you talk to her, she’s not always there, y’know? When I first came, I thought she was like a, uh . . . Greek oracle. This huge supernatural force channelled into a body that knows things. Now I can’t tell if that’s the case or if she’s just nuts.’

‘Probably both.’ Laik flicked his eyes to meet the mirror. It had caught a light from behind growing too quick for his liking.

‘I think there’s a method to it all.’ Pepper nodded slowly, thinking on their conversations. ‘There was this time when she—’

‘What’s this joker doing?’ Laik interrupted, his tone shifting immediately to the defensive.

A car, black and sleek, surged forward in the fast lane, but with an unusual urgency before matching their speed and staying alongside. The tinted windows did nothing but set Laik’s instincts into overdrive.

The driver’s window slid down.

Horus stared across the divide.

His face was unreadable, save for the ghost of a smile, not of joy, but of satisfaction – the kind born from inevitability. As if all of this had unfolded exactly as he had envisioned. That it was fate.

In his free hand: a pistol.

‘Down!’ Laik barked.

He reached back instinctively, shoving Pepper low while Swan lunged across the back seat to drag Quinn down by her coat. The crack of gunfire burst through the air like limp fireworks at this range. In doing so, the Subaru momentarily jerked left, smashing into the side of Horus’ car. The impact made teeth clack and heads jolt. Horus retaliated, ramming back. Mercifully, the Subaru was heavier, hardier, and had the advantage. But that mattered little when a series of bullets cracked the passenger windows, with Pepper’s bursting into a shower of shards, letting the wind in. Another slam, this time sheering the Subaru’s wing mirror off in the process.

Another shot rang out. Metal punctured metal.

‘Who the hell is that?’ Pepper shouted, crouched low, looking between the seats.

‘Bloody Horus! Asshole must have been waiting for us,’ Laik growled, eyes locked on the mirror. ‘Swan, call it in.’

Swan was already digging under his coat, trying to reach for his phone, but it was chaos, motion, veering lights and swerving lines. He jabbed and prodded at the screen as best as he could. Quinn had her head covered. ‘What is happening?’ she cried out, genuinely afraid.

Horus pulled up again, this time on the passenger side, so close they could hear the rubber shriek against the concrete. Their headlights tangled. A flash of Horus’s face was illuminated by the muzzle flare of another shot.

The Subaru jerked violently.

Laik cursed, metal grinding as he twisted the wheel hard. They skidded across two lanes, clipped the side rail. Sparks danced along the steel like fireflies. He shunted back, left with no option but to swerve hard to take the next junction. Tyres squealed. The Subaru bucked in protest, but he gritted his teeth, wrestling it back under control. Horus pulled close again behind, bumping against their rear panel with a steel kiss meant to provoke.

Another turn. Laik weaving through traffic this way and that. A delivery van swerved, horn blaring. Horus followed, clearly sensing the desperation. A bridge loomed. Laik turned sharply beneath it, only just keeping on the road and a fringe from clipping a passing truck. Horus mirrored him. He was always there, in the mirror, when he pulled around a corner, blasting past red traffic lights, sending other traffic into a panic. He was always there.

Another shunt from behind, then another, with the third being enough to send the Subaru into a skid. Laik overcorrected – they spun, bounced the kerb, smacked into a lamppost which launched them across wet grass in a ferocious spin.

Panicked screams were silenced by the windscreen exploding and a deafening hollow crunch as the car crashed into the side of an oak tree, finally coming to a stop for good.