A Sickening Crack
The last issue was a little story about Batya and her food truck. It had a lot of intriguing questions I had no intention of answering. But then last night I wrote some more? I guess we’ll just keep spinning these plates and see what happens.
Kuniko dies in Batya’s arms.
She takes a long breath and tries to center herself, which she’s not good at. Then the truck is slammed by something large and heavy, knocking it on its side. Raw meat and skillets and cutlery and Kuniko’s body go flying.
Bat’s frantic, rattled. She gets her bearings, sort of, then hauls herself up through the shattered service window, cleaver in hand.
Squealing tires off to her left. An ambulance is barreling toward her for round two.
She barely manages to fling herself out of the truck before the ambulance rams into it again. She gracelessly smacks against the pavement and her cleaver skitters off into the gutter.
The ambulance’s engine and the truck’s undercarriage are now permanently commingled. Guy behind the wheel hops out, blood flowing through his gaudy mustache. He says, “Why, if it isn’t little Battery.”
Bat, nauseated, shakily gets to her feet. She squints. Oh it’s this guy. She doesn’t know his real name but he goes by Vinnie Vinegar. One of her many colleagues in the Fort Hook hired goon industry. He kind of dresses like a riverboat gambler: gentleman’s paisley vest, western bowtie. He sucks.
She says, “You’re the worst ambulance driver I ever seen.”
“Some do-gooder called the paramedics for your friend, but I knew she wouldn’t need them so I commandeered the vehicle for my own purposes.”
“You the moron that shot her?”
He does a fancy sort of bow that Bat finds deeply irritating. He says, “And yet she still managed to do a number on my personal privates and give me the slip.”
“Finally some good news. She do that to your face, too?”
He withdraws a lace handkerchief from his vest pocket and timidly dabs at his broken nose. “No, I reckon the collision with your truck did that.”
Bat glances at the smoking wreckage but looks away before it makes her burst into tears. “I did a lot of jobs I really didn’t want to do to pay for that truck. And I designed the logo myself.”
“My condolences. I was improvising.”
“Were you also improvising when you murdered another goon?”
“I was doing my job. Your confederate stole something precious from my employer.”
“So what? What about the goon code? What about honor? What would your hideous mother think?”
Vinnie resets his nose with a sickening crack. “I’m afraid we haven’t spoken in a while. She is a cantankerous old lass.”
“I know all about her moods,” Bat says. “Seeing as I give her the bone every Wednesday night.”
“It is kind of you to attend to the needs of the elderly.” He produces a pistol from deep within his pantaloons. “I shall endeavor to reconcile with her, after you hand over that ring box.”
“Don’t know what you’re on about.” Bat shifts her position so her feet are slightly wider apart than her hips. “Kuniko bled to death before she could tell me the deal. Only thing she said was: Do me a favor and finish the job on Vinnie’s stupid balls.”
He raises his gun but Bat’s already on him. The sudden loss of both Kuniko and her truck has knocked her right into berserker mode. It is too terrible to describe.
The story continues in an episode called: The Hot Crimson Haze
I'm surprised you had no intention of following up the last one, felt a lot like a first chapter to me. And this feels like the continuation of a serial that I'd be up for reading more of. If you're not careful you'll end up with a serialized novel on your hands.
I wish I knew Batya in real life. She is fun.