Ghosts of Koa, The First Book of Ezekiel (54 page)

She looked at Manja, pained. The little girl refused to look back at her, but Zeika could see the unmistakeable darkness that had eclipsed her face. The bruise on Zeika's cheekbone felt worse than ever. Tears filled her eyes as she forced her gaze away from her sister.

"The three tasks. The initiation," she murmured, her voice trembling. "I'll do it." As every word left her, it pulled her soul out with them. She could feel it, the unraveling in her chest.

"You're mumblin', queenie. Speak up now, loud and proud."

Zeika wiped her eyes and turned to face him. She lifted her chin, staring at him with a hard, cold gaze. "I said I will do it. I will complete the three tasks. I will join Koa. And I will kill Sal Morgan."

Time was running out. Zeika scurried down the streets, in and out of the alleys, near her old Lot. She moved and watched, letting the shadows take her when they could, making sure to stay clear of patrolling officers. Franz had given her an extra five hours and a mark on her right wrist, and that was the extent of his compassion. She needed to find another blessing. She needed to find one of "them". She kept her hood low and the scarf high around her face as she slipped into another nearby ally. Finally, she saw one, swaying drunkenly.

Jackpot.

A k-head... and he was buying his kunja from a dealer. A sure score.
 

She leaned into the shadows and watched. Both men stood in the middle of the alley, talking low. Then they exchanged a hug, and she saw it: the money and a light-blue card slip into the coat pocket. The tickets-- three of them-- sliding down the back of the buyer's collar. Then, after a few hearty words, they parted ways. The dealer was now fifty or sixty dollars richer, all in the span of thirty seconds.
 

After the eager k-head stumbled out of the alley, Zeika put her hands in her robe pockets and ambled over to the dealer, making sure to keep the doe-like curiosity in her face. He hadn't noticed her yet, but as she drew closer to him,
she
began to notice some things. Recognize some things, actually. The swaggering lean, the chewed-up cheeks, the glossy, nautical hairstyle--
 

"Oh no," she whispered.

It was Wavy Davy... and she'd already gotten his attention. He was staring at her from down the way, squinting.

Shit.

She lowered her head, hiding beneath her hood, and as quietly as she could, she turned around,
praying
he wouldn't recognize her--

"Well, I'll be a plucked and fucked roast duck at a potluck!" Davy said loudly, his voice bouncing around the alley. "Look who it is, back from the dead! All the world's up in arms about my favorite girl, and she comes to see me of all people!"

OhgoodGodamnit...

Shooting this asshole would be way too loud and messy, but she could slip away with the best of them. She finished her turn and began to walk off, quickly, before anyone else heard him.

"I wouldn't do that, girly," Davy called after her. "Not unless you want some other folk knowin' about your lil resurrection."

She froze, hands in pockets.

"Why don't you come on over here and talk to ole Davy for a minute?" He continued. "You know, old friends catchin' up, and all that."
 

It wasn't a request. Zeika hissed, and swallowing down her rage, she whipped back around and walked towards him, her head still lowered.
 

"That's my girl! Come and talk to ole Wavy. We have so many things to discuss!"

She slowed down, realizing he was exactly right. They did have things to discuss. Whistle blower or not, Davy was still a k-dealer, which meant he was connected to Koa somehow. He could still give her the blessing she needed. She just had to squeeze in the right places... and the Beretta in her robes was a juicer if she'd ever seen one.

At the thought, her gait changed and so did her face, both softening into something more feminine she hadn't tapped into since Johnny had disappeared. She removed her hood and lifted her chin, cocktail-party style. Her hard strut melted into a silky, rolling gait. Her coal-like stare and stone face dissolved into a coy smile and an innocent, flitting gaze. The vulnerability she'd always hidden as weakness, now her greatest strength. Davy noticed and smiled wide.

Yep. Keep thinking you're in control, asshole.

"That's more like it!" He rubbed his hands together and grinned at her as she approached. "Whatcha doin' around here, girly? Heard about that fire... real sad. You must need some place to go."

She smiled and shrugged. "It was all just a misunderstanding. Guess you were right about those Azure guys." And she looked off, as though ashamed of some abhorrent thing she'd done.

"Aw, honey."
 

He lifted her chin as though to soothe her. She still looked away, her eyes glistening with "tears". Oh brother.
 

"S'ok," he cooed, eating her act up. "I told you them Azure boys wouldn't treat you right, but we all gotta learn our own way. You tell me what you need, and like I said before, I'll take care of you without a peep. At a price, of course."

"Well..." she began, slowly, and looked down, playing with her fingers. "I don't need a place to stay, but... I was kinda hopin' you'd have something for, uh, altitude adjustment, you know?"

He blinked, mildly surprised but no less pleased. Then the pleasure deepened, transforming into the nasty leer she'd already known was coming. He bit his bottom lip, pulling his leather pants up by the crotch. "I got you. But what, pray tell, are you going to do for me?"

She paused, trying to decide which sweet nothing to drop. After a minute, she smiled tightly. Suggestively. "Anything you want."

"Hm. I like the sound of that. How about a down payment first? You know, you show me somethin', I show you somethin'..."

"Right here in the alley?" She blinked, her eyes wide.

"No time like the present, baby. Live a little, you know?" And she could see his hand already moving to his belt buckle. Ugh.

"Okay, well at least tell me what tickets you're selling first. You know I'm a business woman, first and foremost. Remember?" She winked at him.

He smiled, nodding. "Yeah, that's sensible! I've always liked that about you. Well, I've got locals and internationals. Internationals'll get you sailing smooth, sweetheart, like no other. I got Brazilians, Frenchies--"

"No. Local, please?"

"Any particular direction?"

"Yeah," Zeika moved in her robes and brought out the Beretta, the sweetness dying on her face. "South, asshole."

Davy looked down at the gun and then looked back at her, a mix of emotions flooding his face. Betrayal. Then anger. "I see you've stepped up your quick draw. Real cute," he growled. "And just when we were getting on so well--"

She rolled her eyes and jammed the muzzle into his navel. He raised his hands on reflex.

"Christ, girly! You want a free flight, all you have to do is ask! We can do this real civilized like!"

"Kunja pushers are the farthest thing from civil. I don't want your poison. I want information."

"Or else what? I ain't no rat, sweetie."

"You talk to me, or you talk to this." She nudged him again with the muzzle. "And it's a fucking chatterbox. Got me?"

"All right, all right already, yeesh!"

"Listen good. I'm a recruit. I need a blessing, and I need a lead."

"You'd better go find a priest, sweetheart, because this is the last place you'll find something like that. My church is closed."

"Yeah. Well." She pulled back the hammer, sliding the gun down to his crotch. "About that."

Davy sneered and looked off. "Do you know who I am? Really? You know who I work for?"

She considered him for a moment, remembering the note wedged in with the money he'd just made. "You're right. Let's find out. Empty your pockets."

The grin on his face dissipated. He fidgeted, glancing at the gun, his jacket, everything but her. "Pockets? Why? Whatchu need? Come on, I got nothin', kid. Well, nothing but usual stuff, and usual stuff ain't that interes-- "

"Empty them." She urged the Beretta into him. "Now."

He'd gone pale, but with trembling fingers, he did as he was told, spilling out a k-head's treasure trove from his pockets. Kunja phials of all different colors, some crumpled rolling papers, a pipe, and a wallet fattened with what Zeika assumed was a lot of money. She took it. But something from the find was missing.

"All right, Jimmy Jackass. Back pockets too."

Davy whined like a beat dog but obeyed. And there it was, the bright 4x4-inch card that had caught her eyes from down the alley. The note... and there was an insignia on the back. Be damned. It wasn't Koan. Nor was it one of the fifteen sigils of the Civic Order. It was the Monas Hieroglyphica, emblazoned on pretty robin's-egg-blue stationary.

She smiled. "Unless this is a love letter, I'd say you're screwed. What do you think?"

"Th-that's not mine. I don't even know what it says or who it's going to!" Davy's words practically free-fell out his mouth. "The k-head must have dropped it on me or something!"

"Really! Well let's find out together, shall we?" She opened the letter and pinned it to his chest with her thumb. Her grip on the gun at his pants was steady, and so was her gaze as she kept one eye on him and the other on the words. She skimmed it and then grinned. Initiation was going to go faster than she thought.

"Baby, please. Come on, I ain't do nothin' to you!"
 

She ignored him, pocketed the letter, and then opened his wallet. It was stuffed with crisp bills, of both the green and the dark blue variety. Seemed like there was no loyalty amongst terrorists, after all.

"Oh boy. Big pimpin', huh, David?"

"Look, girly, I
swear
--"

"Do your suppliers know you're making these kinds of deals? Runnin' Azure errands on Koan company time?"

"Hey," he stuttered. "We ain't gotta make a big deal out of this, you know? This is
business
, all right? It's how I put bread on my kids' table."

"By betraying a ruthless terrorist organization-- your brothers-- and by being a messenger boy for the blues. That'd better be some bread. I wonder how my recruiter'd feel about it."

His face contorted with terror. "Please," he stammered. "I will do
anything
!"

"Then bless me, buddy. Water, oil, prayer, whatever the hell you have to do."

"I will do
anything
but that!"

"Well then, we have nothing more to discuss." She began to back away, still aiming the gun.
 

"Wait! Look, I'm not just being an asshole. I'm serious. I can't help you get in. After the repeals, they capped off recruitment. No newbies. If I bless you for initiation, they'll blow my head off."

"They can carry one more soldier. They have to. I
need
to join, do you understand? I need to join them, or my family will die."

He took her in for a moment, and his eyes actually softened as he looked at her. "Look. Koa is serious shit. This ain't for the fluffy, kid."

"Have I ever been soft and fluffy?"

She stared at him, making sure to keep her gaze hard and angry. She'd learned a long time ago that most people, especially the spineless, tended to take the hard gaze to the bank. After surveying her, he seemed to nod in agreement. Check cashed.

"Okay," he relented. "Okay. I'll do it. You got your blessing. But if things go down the crapper for you after, it ain't my fault. Your recruiter told you the deal?"

She nodded.

"If you want entry, you gotta bring homage.
Big
homage. For all three tasks."

"What kind?"

"Exotic spices from the far East-- what the hell do you think? Something that'll be useful for them other than your smart-assed mouth. Eyes on the street identify the talent. Then higher-ups do the casting. Just make sure that when you debut, you debut big."

"And then what?"

"Pray they don't got ten AK-47s that also like to chit-chat." He looked down at her gun sarcastically.

"After I 'debut', how do I find them?"

"Hold out your wrist." And for whatever reason, he relaxed and began to smile again. "Don't worry, I'm gonna give you a way in."

She looked at him warily, but he didn't bother easing the grin on his face. Whatever the punchline was, she'd missed it. Half of her suspected that he might hand her his cock rather than a map.

"Hey, kid, it's your call," he said. "You either take the map, or you shoot me and go home bless-less."

She extended her free hand, still eyeing him. When he grabbed her wrist instead of slapping a map into it, however, she jumped, nearly depressing the trigger.

"You asshole!"

"RELAX KID!!" He shrieked, holding up a free hand in fear. "Wait a sec! This ain't your usual map!"

She scowled as she watched him turn her wrist over in trembling hands. Grin or not, at least he was afraid of her now... there was that much.

"Take it easy. This is going to be uncomfortable." He rolled up the left sleeve of her sweater and pressed his bare wrist to hers.