Chapter 4: Run Like Hell - The Night Market

There was no option. No time. The chisel slipped free from between the wood and skimmed in an arc between them, slipping out of her hand like it wanted no part of what came next. In doing so, the Enforcer flinched. Just a heartbeat. Just enough.

She yanked her wrist free, heart hammering like it wanted out of her ribs. She didn’t look back. Couldn’t. Just ran. Her boots scrambled over broken tile and old grit, every step exploding in a crunch, her breath sharp and loud in her ears. Behind her, shelves rattled as she knocked into them, tools and jars and unidentifiable things clattering to the ground. She didn’t stop to see if he’d fallen behind. She already knew he hadn’t. She could hear him.

The factory seemed to close in on her, walls narrowing with every turn, shadows leaping like hands trying to catch her coat. She vaulted the workbench, slipped on loose plaster, shoulder barged the toilet door open, and didn’t think. Just climbed. She scrambled out the window, damn the glass, crashing down upon the bin and sending both toppling over.

It would buy her some time. There was no way he was getting through that. All she could do was run like hell.

She crashed through clusters of people, splitting conversations. One woman shrieked as Pepper nearly bowled her over. A man swore violently and stumbled against a stall, sending its wares toppling everywhere. Behind her, the Enforcer came. No longer calm, no longer quiet. He didn’t push through the crowd. He cut through it like a blade. People scattered at the sight of him.

She raced through the black night, trails of lamplight streaking past like car headlights, skimming between four men whose drinks exploded as she powered on between. A trip on one of their shoes almost sent her tumbling, but she fought on, regaining her balance. Profanity spewed behind her and the group had burst into sprints to try to intercept her. She had to move faster, run faster, fucking run! Her legs pumped and she could feel them failing already, becoming numb with the shock of the speed demanded of them. Her throat burned raw, her chest like glass being stepped on. She was running blind now, not smart, just desperate.

The group gave chase, slipping between tents and signs like they’d done it a thousand times before, with the Enforcer at the back of the pack. Pepper ran harder, grunting with every stride, vision tunnelling. Fire burned in her throat and tears wetted her eyes in desperation. But she was here! Her escape! She was so close now! With a surge of power, she sharply turned into where the night congregated behind a line of tents, skipping over a guideline. And there! There in the gloom was the gap in the fence! She could see it, she could reach it, she could—

Pepper spun sideways, her feet skidding over slick grass beneath her. She was yanked aside and crashed back-first into the fencing, causing a shriek of alarm.

One of the men tossed his head back, snorting in delight, a cigarette still dangling from his lips. He had sharp bleach-blond hair, the kind that looked like it had been styled with a knife. His leather jacket was a patchwork of spikes, torn slogans and safety pins. His grin didn’t reach his eyes.

‘Oh, that was a fucking chase, darling.’ He took a deep drag on his smoke and blasted haze from his nostrils. His lackeys flanked behind, just as unimpressed. ‘Well rude to bang into folk. Spill my fucking drink. Not even a sorry from ya. Why you running, huh? Why would you be doing that?’

He leered, showing his teeth, his canines unusually long, making him look like a—

She lashed out to catch him across the face, but it was anticipated and restrained at the wrist. He put his attention on the cut that had scored her skin with an unusual amount of interest before the limb was tossed away.

‘You know what I’m thinking, girlie?’ He shot out a hand and pinched her cheeks together, voice thick with menace. ‘I think you need us to teach you some manners.’

Pepper felt her lips quiver as her eyes shot between all four of them, trying to summon the words to say something, anything. Until, silhouetted from the lamplight of the paths, four became five, and the new shadow stretched over them all. The grip on Pepper slipped away.

The Enforcer.

Initially his attention fell on Pepper, who had instinctively held her breath, feeling almightily small. She watched his cold eyes shift to each of the pursuers in turn and wrinkle his fresh-featured face.

‘I’ll take it from here, fellas. She’s mine,’ he coldly demanded, striding towards her.

‘What? Just like that? I don’t think you get to spoil our fun. Piss off.’

The Enforcer didn’t blink as he addressed the punk in the middle.

‘You ain’t so fresh to be unfamiliar with Market Law, and you know what happens to those who break it. So, I’ll repeat myself. This one is mine.’ He took a bold step forward, scowling. ‘Get. The hell. Away from her.’

The punk exploded in laughter. He released Pepper’s face, then plucked the cigarette away and wagged it at the interruption.

‘The balls on this! Fucking Enforcers, you’re all the same. Throwing your weight around to everyone else. Acting all high. We got here first. Just because you get paid to forget the chase doesn’t mean we haven’t.’

Pepper felt the fence press against her shoulders, but she wasn’t the only one being cautious. One of the gang had already taken a tentative step back. He wasn’t as bold. In fact, his eyes had widened at the Enforcer’s appearance, and a tremor was running through his fingers.

‘Mate, don’t, that’s—’

‘What, ’cause he’s a Family Man? Families have forgotten what life’s like down in the streets! They wouldn’t last a minute without their money. Don’t care what fucking Family you’re under. Silk shirt, fancy suit like that makes you just the one thing: a lapdog. No. Worse than a lapdog, ’cause at least a dog’s got fuckin’ teeth. So, I told you what we were doing, smart guy. We’re having a little fun with this one. Eff. Yuu. Enn.’ He took a bold step ahead and punctuated the last words with a pair of firm, disrespectful prods to the Enforcer’s chest. ‘With an emphasis on the eff yuu.’

‘You don’t want to do that,’ the Enforcer warned.

‘No, I suppose I don’t.’ He pulled the cigarette free and fired a cloud into the Enforcer’s stony face. ‘But I’m gonna do it, anyway.’ Before outrageously grinding the cigarette to a stub on the lapel of the Enforcer’s pristine and obviously expensive suit jacket.

The kick was quick, direct and to the gut, its speed catching him off-guard, so the punk flew onto his back. The Enforcer raised his guard, ready for his friends to intervene. Wisely, they didn’t. The punk leaped up and threw a series of jabs, all of them crashing against the forearms like the tide. When open, the Enforcer landed a right cross straight over the jaw – enough to make the point to stop, but not enough to drop him for good. Which may have been a mistake because the next thing Pepper knew, the deafening snap of a switchblade came from nowhere and metal sailed this way and that. And while the Enforcer did a fine job of blocking each attempt of the blade meeting his chest, or the face, the punk’s improvisation of driving it deep into his shoulder unexpectedly caught him. The knife was twisted and left in, its owner holding his hands out in triumph, almightily proud of his achievement.

It didn’t last long.

Pepper saw it. Saw the blade sink deep into the Enforcer’s shoulder, almost to the hilt, undoubtably hitting bone. Pain may have washed over his face, but he didn’t cry out. And it didn’t last long. Confidently, and to the punk’s confusion, he yanked it free. And something else pulled free with it.

Not blood. Darkness.

‘I warned you,’ the Enforcer snarled, his voice sounding as if it was joined by another, deeper, guttural companion.

Blackness flooded through the wound, spreading like ink in water. It crawled over his skin, slipping into the seams of his clothes, down his neck, over his hands. His eyes, once blue, burned gold. Not bright. Wrong.

‘Oh my God,’ someone whispered. ‘It’s him.’

The Enforcer became a swelling shadow. His form ballooned, bones stretching, joints cracking. His pitch form was so dense that it seemingly sucked in the lamplight from around them.

And then, the chaos began.

The entity struck the mouthy one with a blow that launched him skyward, crashing through a canopy. One of his friends tried their luck but vanished beneath a sweep of a huge pitch arm. It snagged on tent canvas and ripped the entire thing from its position, owner and all, scattering them into the air. Glass shattered. Wood scraped. The screams began.

Someone crumpled near Pepper, contorted like a stringless puppet.

As the Market erupted into mayhem, it jerked its head to Pepper, who had begun to inch along to the fence in the hope of going unnoticed. And when the fierce gold eyes fell on her, she ran. Without the energy and strength to fuel her escape, adrenaline would have to do.

The Market blurred around her, a mess of fluttering banners and smoke-smudged lights, bodies scrambling to get clear. She joined the flood, all jostling for escape, most running for the entrance. A stall exploded in her peripheral vision as it was charged through by whatever the Enforcer had become. Wood and bottles and bone charms and blood-smeared glass scattered into the air like birds taking flight. Her boots slipped on the cobbles. The shrieks melted into a song of terror.

She saw a splash of colour ahead, gaudy signage promoting something undetermined, only to see a figure hurtle through the air, buckle the metal in half and collapse on the path before her. A second, or what remained of one, was launched into a concession stand. His head dangled limp over the counter, wrong at the neck.

Don’t look. Don’t stop. Run.

She pushed forward. Her legs were fire, quickly reducing to embers.

Enforcers on the path ahead of her frantically ran past, calling to one another. ‘Control him!’ someone barked behind her. ‘Laik! It’s me! Stop! Get yourself und—’

The ground shook again. A stall collapsed into itself in a spray of shattered bottles and smoke. Something screeched. Not human. Too close.

And then the world tipped sideways.

Something hit her. Hard.

She flew.

Tumbled.

The night sky spun. Her shoulder struck dirt. Then timber. Then her back slammed flat, knocking the breath clean out of her. Debris rained down. Canvas, ropes, cracked frames. A tent folded in on her like a dying animal. She gasped, but no sound came.

Her legs were pinned.

Panic rose, sharp and immediate, washing everything else out of her head. She clawed at the wreckage. Useless. Every movement sent a jolt of pain screaming up her thigh.

She cowered as the thick canvas was furiously hauled aside, the cries of fear having mostly faded, leaving a dangerous silence.

Victorious, the creature loomed over her. Shadow poured off it like raging steam. Its face, or the shifting thing that passed for one, drew closer, with flaming gold stars for eyes that did not blink, harbouring nothing but intent. She couldn’t see it breathe, but the heat from its breath stung her face.

It wasn’t looking at her.

It was looking into her.

Pepper whimpered. Her arms raised reflexively, shielding nothing, instead wrapping around the gold locket at her neck. This was over. The last thing she thought of was Claire as she waited for the inevitable. Not words – just the shape of her sister’s face, frail and asleep. Her reason for everything. Her reason for this stupid crusade. And if she could, she would apologise, distraught that she was so, so close to fulfilling her promise.

And then nothing.

The weight in the air eased.

The shadow above her, astonishingly, began to drain. Like spilled ink retreating into the paper. Blackness slid backwards, revealing the person beneath – up sleeves, into skin, across the Enforcer’s mouth and under his nails. The monster melted from him like he was rejecting it. Or it was letting go. What remained was the man flushed and troubled, hair matted with wet, sweat travelling over smooth skin. He fell to one knee beside her, gripping the rubble, breathing hard.

Pepper blinked through tears, through grit. Her limbs still refused to move.

He looked down at her, brow furrowed, more confused than angry. As though she had done something. As though she had reached inside and tore a part of him free. His voice, when it came, was hoarse. Like rocks sliding together.

‘How did you do that?’ he grunted.