Twenty-One:

Rhea was out at night walking back to Sockeye after repairing Lucius' Mercedes-Benz and the last of Kamon's cars, who had been very pleased with her work: "They look like new! Now I know why Irvin keeps you around."

Her leg was ending the healing process, and a lovely scar was forming on her skin. She had just turned the corner when she saw that her usual route was blocked by police cars and yellow tape. As she headed down another street, a crowd of shiny cars and men gathered around the engines turned her around again. Soon, she found she didn't recognize the buildings or streets surrounding her. She was on the blurred border between Downtown and the Scabs, crowds thinning and lights beginning to dissipate. She had turned down another street where a pale figure with slick dark hair dressed in a suit was loading a body into the trunk of a white sedan, wiping his ring-covered hands on a black rag. It wasn't until he turned his face in Rhea's direction, she saw the burn scar festering in the corner of his mouth.

Merari Nikos: murderer of three men, one of them being one of Rusakov's outer district distributors. A rough sketch of his face was posted all over the walls of Sockeye, the only distinct feature the moon-shaped scar on his left cheek.

"You weren't supposed to see this," said Nikos.

Adrenaline knocked out Rhea's paralyzing fear, and she took off down the street. She did not make it to the end of the block before Nikos tackled her to the ground. Rhea was shaking and wincing after her head smashed on the side of the curb. Nikos removed a muskrat clip blade from his pocket and clumsily planted it into her shoulder, missing her throat from the surprise at the strength of the small woman. Her painful cry was muffled as he covered her mouth with his hand. He pulled out the blade and repositioned for a clear shot, and she kneed him between the legs. With a moment of hesitation, Rhea knocked him off her, and he huddled on the sidewalk. She snatched the blade and, without a second thought, plunged it into his chest. She repeated the motion eleven times.

With the man dead beside her, Rhea huddled on the curb and took a moment to cry. She gripped her shoulder, blood seeping into her clothes. It only started to hurt when the adrenaline left her system. She did what she could to stop the bleeding, muscles torn but not deep enough to set off severe inner bleeding and thankfully missing the shoulder bone. She took her shirt from beneath her overalls and pressed it against the wound, tying it under her arm to keep it in place.

Rhea looked at the body. The blade was still sticking out of the chest, red spreading through the suit, lifeless face ripped and scratched from the conflict. But it was still obvious who he was, and she knew what he was worth. She moved to the car where the previous corpse was sprawled halfway into the trunk. She turned his face towards her and recognized him as another of Rusakov's men. He was the one she spoke to when she was in the hotel in Mahkota. His bionic arm was detached and sitting in the trunk. She one-handedly pulled him onto the street and looked through the open door of the driver seat. Keys in the ignition. With her one good arm, she tried to drag Nikos to the car, but it made her shoulder erupt with pain, and she felt energy leaving her system. She went back to the car. In the trunk, there was also a Smith & Wesson revolver, a body bag, a duffle bag, and an axe.

She looked back at Nikos, reflecting on the events, finding a lack of empathy or remorse. When she looked at him, she did not see a person anymore.

She grabbed the axe, the blade clean and the handle made of a dark wood material. She approached the body, raised it with her good arm, and swung it down on the man's neck as hard as she could. Her shot was lucky, hitting its mark, and she could hear the snap as the blade broke through the neck bones. She lifted the head, carried it to the car, and clumsily shoved it into the duffle bag.

Rusakov's building was easy for her to find now. The loss of blood was making her dizzy, but she made it to the building, and when she got out, she demanded to the guards that she be let up to the top floor. They radioed Rusakov, who invited her up to his office.

"Well, look at you," he grinned when Rhea entered with a blood-soaked shirt and a duffle bag in hand. The guards had not bothered to check it; their expectations of the girl's recklessness were low enough that they did not look at her as a threat.

Rhea walked to the desk and dropped the bag, unzipping it and pulling out the head. Rusakov's jaw dropped, and he looked away from his sleek laptop. He slowly grabbed the head and turned to its face, amazement burning through his eyes.

"How on earth—?"

"When I caught him, he had already killed another one of your men. I don't know his name. The one with the bionic arm. Now, you gonna knock five grand off for this month?"

"I'll take off three."

"He was worth over five thousand!"

"Alive. This is not alive," he gestured to the head. "However, it looks like this wasn't easy for you. I'll do four."

Rhea bit her tongue to keep contained the piling number of insults she wanted to spit at him. He gave a greedy smile, and she turned without another word and hurried to Sockeye before another monster to invoke more trauma.

When Rhea returned to Sockeye, she dragged her aching body up the stairs to her room where she washed the blood down the shower drain, the slash in her shoulder splintering her nerves. She stood in front of the mirror and examined the gash where blood was still trying to exit. Her shoulder muscle had taken the most damage, no harm to the tendons or clavicle. After she had changed, she knocked on Alton's door. He opened it in sweatpants too big for his thin waist, his hair sprawled out around his head, and she apologized for waking him. He brushed it off when he saw her bloody arm limp at her side.

"May I ask what happened?" he asked while she sat on his mattress, moving through the room grabbing supplies. Boxes and piles of materials she didn't recognize were placed against the wall around the room. Windchimes and mobile-like contraptions hung from the ceiling, and a few discolored plants were clustered around the window. The walls had nothing on them but dirt.

"Ran into Merari Nikos," Rhea grunted.

"I'm impressed you survived."

"Killed him too."

Alton's face lit up a little in surprise, and gave her a celebratory clasp on the back. "You're molding into a fine criminal!"

Rhea lowered her head, trying to feel ashamed. And part of her did. She was sure the horrid images would not soon leave her head, but the more anguish she was put through, the less it hurt.

"I want a gun," she said as Alton was finishing up.

"A gun? You?" He looked at her and smirked.

"Or a knife. Or something. I want to be able to protect myself. Will you teach me?"

He nodded. "When your shoulder heals."