Chapter 2
Big money would always bring out the brave or the desperate.
The vendors and villagers who'd been just watching the show, their eyes instantly turned hungry.
They started prowling through the crowd, eyes gleaming with greed. Two grand was enough to make anyone forget their morals in this backwater.
I pulled my hat down low, hunched over as much as I could, and blended in with a group of old folks carrying baskets, heading for the back exit of the market.
A person wrote: [Heads up, Harriet. That fish guy on your left has been eyeing you for a while.]
Another wrote: [Crap, even with your clothes flipped inside out, you stand out like a sore thumb. Anyone can tell you're not from around here.]
Someone wrote: [That fishmonger just picked up his knife. He's about to shout for backup.]
My heart skipped a beat. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the fishmonger, smelling like a whole fish market, totally fixated on my shoes.
They were limited-edition sneakers. Even with some dirt on them, they stuck out in all this mud. I knew that I messed up.
"Hey, lady." the fishmonger suddenly shouted, his voice booming across the market.
He charged out from behind his stall, waving his knife. "You're the one, aren't you?"
His shout instantly drew everyone's attention.
Not far away, Milo and his crew heard the commotion and started pushing and shoving their way through the crowd, heading straight for me.
"Grab her. Don't let her get away." Milo barked.
Now that I'd been spotted, there was no use pretending anymore.
I shot up straight, my gaze turning fierce in an instant.
The fishmonger thought I was just a lamb to the slaughter. He lunged at me, reaching out to grab my collar.
"Get your ass over here." he barked.
I moved right toward him.
As his hand shot out, I sidestepped, snatching his wrist lightning-fast with my left hand. Then, I smashed my right elbow into his face with all my strength.
A heavy smack echoed.
The fishmonger didn't even have time to scream. His nose shattered, blood gushed out as he went flying straight into the fish tank.
The villagers who'd been itching to jump in were stunned, sucking in a sharp breath and instinctively taking a couple steps back.
I knew the shock wouldn't last, so I made a break for the back exit while I still could.
A person wrote: [Damn, Harriet's elbow move was sick.]
Another wrote: [She's a trained fighter, huh? No wonder she had the guts to come to this dump all by herself.]
Someone wrote: [But there are way too many of them. Milo and his crew are closing in.]
Behind me, a chaotic stampede of footsteps erupted, mixed with Milo's furious roar.
He said, "Shit, she's a trained fighter. Grab your weapons. I want her alive. I'm gonna make her pay right at that dead bitch Harriet's funeral."
His filthy words made my stomach churn, but what really set me off was a tidal wave of rage.
Harriet was a girl who always smiled softly. She would get upset for hours if she accidentally squashed an ant.
She ended up dying at the hands of a bastard like him, and now she couldn't even rest in peace.
I clenched my teeth, my lungs burning, but I couldn't afford to stop.
I burst out the back door of the market and into a narrow alley, flanked by low brick houses piled high with junk.
This kind of setup might help me out, but the locals had the real advantage.
A person wrote: [Don't go straight, Harriet. It's a dead end up ahead.]
Another wrote: [Turn right. There's an abandoned hardware store over there. The inside's a maze.]
Someone wrote: [Milo's cousin is cutting you off. He's taking a shortcut.]
Those comments were like cheat codes for me.
As I was about to cross the intersection, I didn't hesitate. I followed the comments and whipped right into a narrower alley.
Just as I slipped in, two guys with shovels burst out from the direction I would've gone, only to come up empty.
"Shit, where'd she go?" one of them barked.
"She ran that way!" the other shouted.
I didn't let up for a second. I dashed straight into the abandoned hardware store.
The door was half-open, and the air inside was thick with dust and the sharp tang of rust.
I quickly shut the door behind me and scanned the place.
The shelves were stripped bare, just some rusty screws and scraps of metal lying around. No way anyone could hide here.
The sounds of the chase outside were getting closer, and Milo's voice was practically right in my ear.
He said, "Split up and search. This dump's not that big. She can't escape, even if she grew wings."
Fear and panic were death's catalyst.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.
I walked over to the corner, picked up a solid iron rod that felt just right in my hand, and tested its weight.
It was the perfect weight, heavy enough to do some real damage.
Just then, the comments in front of me suddenly changed color.
A person wrote: [Time to drop an even harsher truth on her...
[Actually, before she died, Harriet tricked you into coming here, just so she could avoid another beating.
[Milo was only looking to buy himself a wife and ended up with Harriet. But Harriet told him she had a best friend, rich, pretty, only child. If they could lure you over, Milo's family would be set for life.
[That voice message and text? Harriet sent them to you herself.
[She really did try to sell you out just to save her own skin.
[Too bad, a scumbag like Milo was never going to keep his word.
[Right after Harriet sent that message, they beat her to death and said it was to make room for the new girl.]
The iron rod in my hand nearly slipped from my grasp.
I leaned against the cold wall, a chill running through my whole body.
I finally realized that was why Harriet said that she would have no regrets.
I treated her like my best friend, traveled all this way just to be there for her big day.
But to her, I was nothing but her last hope, or maybe just someone to take the fall for her.
I shut my eyes, Harriet's old smile flickering in my mind, but now it looked warped and sinister in my memory.
I muttered, "You devil."