The life of a made man isn't easy. Especially when there may be enemies inside the family, as well as outside.
Ever since prohibition was ratified in Equestria, many businesses felt a sudden dip in profits. There was only one business that actually became more lucrative when alcohol was outlawed: Organized crime.
Octavia Melody is a "made man", a part of the Pie Crime Family for as long as she could remember, climbing the ranks from messenger to drug runner to one of Maud Pie's most trusted lieutenants. Things have been great, for the most part. She can't stop thinking about her mistakes, and the pain in her arm refused to go away, but she has more money and power than she really knows what to do with. So she goes about her business, sinning in the morning and praying for forgiveness in the evening. Things are about as good as they get with such a dangerous, uncertain lifestyle.
The life of a made man isn't easy, especially when there may be enemies inside the family, as well as outside
Octavia hefted the final wooden crate up and into the bed of the loading truck, removing her hat to fan herself and wipe the sweat from her brow. She despised the sticky heat of Manehattan’s summers. They made her long for her childhood in Trottingham, where summer only meant that the perpetual rain would be slightly warmer than usual. There, the air was crisp and clean. In Manehattan, Octavia felt herself choke on the very air of the large city, which had a certain smog-like quality to it.
“That’s the last of it, Doc,” said Octavia. “Are we ready to go?”
“Yeah, yeah, whenever you want to head out,” sighed the Doctor, after triple counting their cargo. Though she refused to admit it, Octavia quite liked her new partner. He was mostly quiet, could follow directions, and didn't take it personally that she refused to learn his name. All she knew was that he used to be a doctor, so that was what she called him.
“Are you certain that's all?” asked Octavia. “The Boss is expecting fifty cases, and I don't like disappointing the Boss.”
“Yes, yes, I triple checked. If you doubt my ability to count to fifty without fucking up, then feel free to count yourself.”
Octavia hummed quietly, looking over the contents of the truck. Fifty cases of high contraband in the form of cider; bootlegged liquor that would fetch a pretty penny at any one of the several speakeasies run by the Pie Crime Family. Many residents of Equestria thought that the prohibition of alcohol killed businesses. Octavia liked to think that it created them.
“It appears you actually can count without my supervision,” said Octavia, pulling down on the brim of her hat. “You might prove yourself useful for more than just heavy lifting.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” huffed the Doctor. “Where to now?”
“Drops, Minuette, and Hearts are all expecting five,” said Octavia. “Fifteen go to me. The other twenty go to storage on the west side.”
“Hot damn.” The Doctor pulled a carton of cigarettes from his pocket. He took out one and stuck it in his mouth. “That's a lot of booze for one little lady. Makes me wonder when I'll get my own supply to push. You got a light?”
Octavia reached into her coat pocket and pulled out both a carton of her own and a lighter. She tossed the lighter to her partner, lighting her own cigarette when he returned it.
“I like to think I've earned the extra business,” said Octavia. She checked her watch. “We really should hurry. I'm almost behind schedule.”
“You and your schedules. What else does the Boss have us doing today?”
“The Boss doesn’t have us doing anything. You can go home,” said Octavia. “I’ve got to see a whore about some money.”
“How much?”
“More than she’s worth, I’m sure.” Octavia tossed her cigarette to the floor, stamping it out beneath her shoe.
“Heh. Just don’t go easy on her, okay?” said the Doctor. Octavia gave him a glare. “What? I’m just saying, you know, don’t pull any punches or anything.”
“I wasn’t aware I was known for going easy on people who owe me,” said Octavia flatly. “Unless you’re trying to say I’m getting soft.”
“Look, Mel, all I’m saying is that everybody’s got a weakness,” said the Doctor, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “And your weakness for the female form has been well-documented.”
“I appreciate your concern, but it’s not necessary,” said Octavia. “I tend to prefer my women with a level of sophistication that the average prostitute simply doesn't possess.” She checked her watch again, annoyed that she was still standing there. She needed to get moving. “Come on, Doctor. Smoke your fag so we can go.”
“Alright, alright, let’s go,” said the Doctor, tossing his cigarette down. “Drop me off at my place?”
“You’re lucky I’m headed to the West side,” said Octavia. “In the truck, mate.”
The two piled in, and Octavia took off. The streets of Manehattan were a good reflection of the city itself; dark and grimy and rough around the edges. The buildings that lined the street were cold, mechanical, without an ounce of warmth or love. The dull red of brick bled into the grey concrete, creating an overall dreary aura of desperation across the city. In that manner, Manehattan reminded Octavia of home.
“So… That wasn't just me being funny, Mel,” said the Doctor. “What's the deal with the cider? When do I get my crates?”
“Careful, Doc. Greed is dangerous in this business,” said Octavia. “Be happy with what you've got. You'll get your cider in due time. It’s all about paying your dues.”
“I know, I'm just saying… If you talked to Maud, maybe you could speed up the process?”
“The only thing that would speed up is a bullet into my brain,” snorted Octavia. “Enjoy your drug running and protection now, because this bootlegging racket is a huge pain in the ass.”
“But the pay…” complained the Doctor. “I'm barely scraping by here, meanwhile, you and Drops and them have enough to buy a goddamn palace!”
“Hey, watch the language,” said Octavia. She pointed to her rear-view mirror, from which a small cross was hanging.
“Holy… You never struck me as the religious type.”
“Yeah, well… I wasn't always. I'm still not, really. Just trying my best.” She scratched at her left arm, glancing up at her cross. “It's not easy.”
“Yeah, no shit. How can you be down with the man upstairs if we're going around sticking up hookers for money?” asked the Doctor. “Aren't you afraid?”
“What do I have to be afraid of?”
“Don't you people believe in bad people getting tortured for eternity or something? Fire and brimstone?”
“We also believe in repentance and atonement. My sins don't make me any less qualified for forgiveness than anyone else.”Octavia turned onto the Doctor’s street. “And that, my friend, marks the end of our first and last discussion we have about it. I don't have to explain myself to you.”
“Sorry, Mel. Didn't mean to step on your toes.”
It went silent for the last few minutes of the ride. When they arrived, the Doctor hopped out of the truck, wishing his partner luck on her next job. Octavia only smirked, knowing that she most assuredly didn’t need any luck.
Octavia drove off, headed to the storage house where she stowed her cider. She'd deliver to her associates later. For now, she needed to see her next client.
Octavia saw her clear as day from across the coffee shop, sequestered away in the corner of the shop. Her client was dressed wholesomely in a blue blouse and lengthy black skirt, as if trying to escape what she really was. She had her back to Octavia, so that all Octavia could see was her electric blue hair.
“Ah, good, you're on time,” said Octavia. Her client never turned, and Octavia had to wait until she was seated to see her face. She was pale, with reddish eyes and a bored look on her face.
“Hey,” she said flatly.
“Vinyl Scratch. Now, I don't believe in beating around the bush,” said Octavia, removing her hat and setting it onto the table. “So, let's get down to brass tacks. Three months ago, I lent you $40,000 under the agreement that you would pay me back with interest of 15% monthly. Judging by your career path, I'm going to assume you weren't the best in maths, so allow me to crunch those numbers for you; that's the 40K I gave you, plus an extra 6 a month, totalling at 58K. You owe me $58,000 dollars. And, if you can't give it to me, I'm going to have to start collecting collateral. I don't think you'll like that, Ms. Scratch. “
“You done?” asked Vinyl. She reached beneath the table and returned with a briefcase, which she sat on the table. She flipped it open and turned it to Octavia.
Stacks and stacks of bills, bundles of $100s. Octavia’s jaw went slack, her eyebrow raised at her client.
“That's $60,000 right there,” said Vinyl. “Go ahead and keep the two grand, as a show of respect for you and your people.”
Octavia grabbed a stack of bills, flipping through them quickly. She could spot a counterfeit from a mile away, and these bills seemed genuine. But they couldn't be. It was impossible.
“How?” asked Octavia. “How does a hooker get $60,000 in three months?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. Where did you get this?”
“By doing what I do best,” said Vinyl.
“Bullshit. I know what you do for a living, and it’s not worth 60 large,” said Octavia. “So I ask you again: Where did you get it?”
“Heh. This might be my day job, but it's not what I do best. I listen. You'd be surprised by how much someone will tell you when they think you're not listening.”
“You’re good at listening. And that one trait is what allowed you to earn triple your wages?”
“That’s right.”
“Listen to me, Scratch, are you listening?” Octavia leaned forward, her voice scarcely louder than a whisper. “Listen good, because what I say may just save your life. I think that you stole this money. I think you stole this money from my family. That would make me very unhappy. And I promise you this, my friend, I will find out where you got this money. It is not a matter of ‘if’, rather, of ‘when’. If I don’t like your method of procuring this money, you will hear from me, and it will be the last thing you ever hear.”
“Look, I didn’t—”
“I won’t just kill you. I’ll kill all your little hooker friends. Your parents. Your brothers and your sisters. Your entire family. Anyone you’ve ever shown any interest in. They will all die, their bodies chucked into the ocean, never to be found again.” Octavia grabbed her hat and returned it to her head. “Then, you will join them. Do I make myself clear, Ms. Scratch?”
Vinyl stared at Octavia, not wanting to let on that she was afraid. Octavia saw through it easily. She was shaking in her boots.
“Crystal,” said Vinyl.
“Very good. I’ll be in touch, Ms. Scratch,” said Octavia, grabbing the briefcase. “If there’s something you’d like to tell me about this money, now would be the time to do it.”
Octavia could almost see the gears turn in Vinyl’s head. She silently begged her client to just come clean and tell the truth. Despite her big talk, Octavia had no desire to kill anybody that day, especially not over some money. Still, she couldn’t just let this woman get away with stealing from the Pies. That would cause issues down the road. So Octavia begged and prayed that Vinyl saw sense.
“Don’t spend that all in one place,” said Vinyl, leaning back calmly. Octavia shook her head, but said nothing more. She tipped her hat to her client, then left the cafe richer than she had entered.
Octavia watched Vinyl as she strolled down the street, heading from her last client to home. Spying on Vinyl had become the norm for Octavia over the past month. She watched her go about work, watched her party with her friends, watched her spend her nights at her apartment on the Lower East Side. Strangely, Octavia never saw Vinyl do anything suspicious. Nothing to hint at where she had acquired the money.
Octavia puffed on her cigarette, watching her target enter her apartment building. She sighed, massaging her right arm gingerly. The doctors had told her that the pain would never really go away, just wax and wane. Octavia didn’t normally mind. If nothing else, it was a reminder not to act as rashly as she had in the past.
“You always stalk hookers in your free time?”
Octavia, so wrapped up in thought, didn’t notice her partner approach her. The Doctor beckoned for Octavia to follow him, and the two set off down the streets of Manehattan. The Doctor looked a bit nervous, but managed to refrain from falling apart.
“What do you want?” asked Octavia. “I was sort of in the middle of something.”
“Well, now you’re in the middle of something else,” said the Doctor. “Maud wants you.”
“Since when did you deliver messages for Maud?”
“Since today. Hurry up, she said it was urgent. Something about cider and our earnings. She said the numbers don’t work.”
Octavia bit her lip, shaking her head. She thought she knew precisely why the numbers didn’t work, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Not until she spoke to Maud, at least. Octavia dropped her cigarette and stamped it out, then picked up her pace.
“Well, let’s see what the Boss wants,” said Octavia.
It was nearing midnight by the time Octavia made it to her destination, her companion trailing behind her, slowly whittling down his cigarette. Octavia led the two through the chilly night, entering the dark hardware store. The door was locked, so the Doctor came forward, fiddling with some keys. He unlocked the door, entering first.
They wasted no time admiring the empty, dusty shelves, heading straight to the darkest, probably cleanest part of the entire box of a room. This time, the Doctor let Octavia take point. She rapped on the door in a familiar sequence, one that she'd done many times. The door opened relatively quickly, a warm light coming from behind it.
"Welcome, Miss Melody," said the doorman. Octavia removed her hat, nodding before descending deeper into the building.
The light voices and clinking glasses came within earshot after a few seconds. Octavia opened another door, no passcode required, and broke into the room. What used to be a hardware store had been transformed into a market of illicit material; Alcohol. Of the Pie family speakeasies, this was the most popular and, by extension, the most profitable. It was packed to near-capacity, all manner of shady individuals and Pie family associates enjoying a drink and a smoke. All eyes locked onto Octavia for a few seconds, and the voices hushed to silence, which was nothing she wasn’t used to. As such a high member of the family, Octavia commanded a certain awe and respect that was matched by very few people in Manehattan. One such person was sitting at the end of the bar, sipping a gin and tonic.
Maud sort of blended into the environment, which was appropriate given her status. She watched the speakeasy with a careful eye, keeping order with a simple, emotionless gaze. All around her emanated an aura of danger, power. Her legs were crossed in her stool as she sat, and her leg bounced every few seconds, the only thing betraying her calm, unfeeling display. As soon as Octavia had arrived, Maud raised her hand, her left pinkie finger braced with a silver ring, inset with a square, blackish stone. Octavia took Maud’s hand, placed her lips to the ring, and kissed it. The Doctor did the same, and stood to the left of Octavia as she took a seat and waved down the man behind the counter.
"Whiskey," said Octavia to the bartender. "On the rocks."
"You never change," said Maud. “Consistent. Same drink for years.”
“It’s why you pay me the big bucks, isn’t it?” said Octavia. “Because I can supply you with consistent results?”
“One of the reasons.”
“Whiskey on the rocks,” said the bartender, sliding Octavia her drink.
“Thanks, mate.” Octavia took a sip, then turned to properly face her boss. “What can I do for you, Maud?”
“Leave us,” said Maud to the Doctor. He nodded shakily, then disappeared into the crowd. Octavia watched him go, wondering what could Maud have on her mind that the Doctor couldn’t hear.
“So? What do you need?” asked Octavia.
“You delivered five crates of liquor each to Hearts and Minuette at the top of the month,” said Maud.
“I did indeed.”
“How much would you expect to pull from those ten crates?” asked Maud. Octavia traced her finger around the rim of her glass, doing calculations quickly in her head.
“$70,000, if they charged on the low end. But, given our reach, they could’ve charged more,” said Octavia. “100K, if the streets are as dry as I hope them to be. Why do you ask?”
“Find Hearts. Burn her,” ordered Maud. “I want Minuette alive. Call her in.” Octavia nearly choked on her drink, hacking on her whiskey.
“Fuck’s sake… Are you sure that’s necessary?” asked Octavia. “You can’t just expect me to ice an associate with no explanation as to why.”
“Together, they should have pulled at least $140K. I’m $80,000 short,” said Maud. “We expect a certain amount of lost profits, the price of doing business. It’s simple finances. However…”
“Forty fat ones apiece is a bit more than that, yeah.” Octavia polished off her drink. “Shouldn’t I investigate first? Look into it before we get to dumping bodies?”
“No point. No time. Hearts is replaceable.”
“Are you certain about this?”
“Always. I want it done by noon.”
“Just Hearts?” asked Octavia. Maud nodded.
“I need Minuette. For now.”
Octavia took a moment to think things over. She didn't want to kill Lemon Hearts. They had known each other for years. But there wasn't much to be done for it. Maud had made her decision, and Octavia had never known Maud to change her mind.
“I don’t suppose I can convince you that we don’t have to take this particular path?” asked Octavia. Maud’s eyes flickered around the room, a strange nervousness to her otherwise blank expression.
“I was raised on a farm. More like a rock quarry, really,” came Maud’s slow, carefully-measured response. “But we did grow a few crops. Corn, wheat, sugar. And we kept animals. Typical stuff. Chickens and ducks and cows and horses. And one summer, we started to notice that we were losing animals. It started small, just a chicken or a duck here and there.”
“Something was killing them?” asked Octavia. She was as curious as she was concerned. Maud didn’t speak much of her childhood, and it was always tense and strange when she did. All Octavia had ever been able to work out was that something had happened between the Pie sisters at some point, which was why Maud always seemed to look as if she had stepped on glass whenever she had to speak to Limestone.
“Taking them. We'd go to sleep with twenty chickens and wake up with three missing, without a trace. One night, I decide to stay with the animals to watch over them, make sure nothing went wrong.” She gestured to the bartender, who quickly removed her glass and replaced it with another gin and tonic. Maud took the garnishing lime wheel and chewed on it before continuing her story.
“Nothing at all happened until about midnight. Then, I heard a hiss and a rattle. I followed the noise and found a snake, longer and thicker than my arm, swallowing three of my ducks whole. And, before I could grab my father's gun, the snake slithered right out, hiding somewhere in the wheat crop. So I told my father, and we agreed that we had to kill it before it started to kill our horses and cows. We laid bait and traps, but it was too clever. We tried hunting it, but it was too sneaky. We tried appeasing it with offerings of food, but its hunger was too great. This went on for weeks, this snake terrorizing my family. My mother was convinced that this snake was the devil walking the Earth.”
“What did you do?” asked Octavia. Maud drained her drink, sliding her glass away.
“My father fashioned a torch, went out to the wheat crop, and torched our harvest,” said Maud. “He burned down a full season’s worth of crops to flush out this snake.” She reached into her breast pocket and pulled out a carton of cigarettes. She withdrew one and put it in her mouth; The bartender struck a match from his pocket and lit Maud’s cigarette. “This time, I would rather kill the snake when all it’s doing is eating ducks.”
Octavia sighed, then stood up from her seat. She pulled out her wallet and tossed a wad of bills onto the counter.
“Alright, then. I’ll be on my way, then,” said Octavia. “Keep the change, mate.”
“Noon, Octavia,” said Maud. “Then come back here. We’ll talk then.”
“Of course. Now, where did that Doctor of mine get off to?”
“Leave him. Do it alone.” Maud tapped the ash out of her cigarette. “I’m not sure about him.”
“He’s a good man. I trust him.”
“I trusted Hearts, too. Be careful who you trust.”
Octavia turned, pausing for just a moment. The way Maud spoke made Octavia nervous, but not in the usual way. Maud had a way of intimidating whoever she spoke to, but this was different. Maud was always calm and grey in her way of speaking, but, when she told her story, Octavia felt something else in her voice. She felt a layer of fear.
“Do you trust me, Maud?” asked Octavia. Maud remained silent for a moment, accepting another drink from the bartender.
“Of course I do. But, then again, I trusted Hearts, too,” she said, chewing on another lime. “I have more confidence that you won’t disappoint me. You’ve been good to the family.”
“Take it easy, Maud.” Octavia returned her hat to her head, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Pace yourself. You’re tearing through our inventory quicker than the customers.”
Octavia strolled through the room, thinking long and hard about what she would do. It would be unpleasant work, but she could expect no less from this life of hers. She sighed on her way out the door, deciding that she would have to do what she always did: get her hands dirty now and ask for forgiveness later.
Octavia pulled her car to a stop, parking outside of the storage house. She looked to the back seat, where the case to her cello sat in wait. She considered it for a moment, the disregarded it in favor of her trusty Broomhandle. She slipped it into her side holster, then stepped out into the Manehattan twilight. Despite not being especially fond of the big city, Octavia had to admit that it could be beautiful. In the early hours of the day, before the sun has properly started rising into the sky, the grey, lifeless city had color. Energy. Octavia took a moment to appreciate the sky before walking into the storage house.
Rows and rows of crates lined the room, crates of booze and drugs, hidden along with legitimate goods. Octavia paid them little attention as she strolled through the single room, headed for the back. Her associates each sat on a crate lazily, Minuette sipping a coffee. It was obvious that she had only just then escaped the clutches of sleep. Lemon Hearts was only in slightly better condition, breaking her fast with a cigarette.
“You better have a good reason for calling us out here,” yawned Minuette. “I’ve been up all night trying to catch up on sales.” She chugged the last of her coffee and tossed the cup aside. “What’s the deal?”
“You need to go see Maud,” said Octavia. She checked her watch. “Now. You know how she feels about being left waiting.” Minuette went pale as a sheet, fear coursing through her. Being called in by Maud Pie normally had only two possible outcomes, and Minuette didn’t think she was due for a promotion anytime soon. She gulped, her entire body trembling as she stood up from her improvised seat.
“Shit. You know what for?”
“Despite what people might be telling you, I’m not exactly best mates with the Boss,” said Octavia. “She doesn’t tell me any more than she tells you.”
“I-I… fuck, what do I do…?” Minuette’s terror was palpable, almost infectious. Octavia knew herself to be in the Boss’ good graces, and even she would feel a bit nervous if she were in Minuette’s shoes.
“Better to get it done with quick. Pissing about and wasting time will only make things worse,” said Octavia. “You want a smoke?” Minuette nodded, and Octavia supplied her with a cigarette. “There. Calm down, get your head together… And go see the Boss.”
“D-did she look angry?” asked Minuette.
“She looked like Maud. You know how she is. If she was really angry…” Octavia grimaced slightly. “Well, you’d be long dead, I imagine. Like I said, wasting time will only make things harder. Go. Now.”
Minuette took in a deep breath, blowing out a swirling cloud of smoke. She mumbled some form of farewells, then slowly trudged out of the storage house. Octavia watched her go, keeping silent until after the door had closed behind her. Octavia hoped in her heart of hearts that Minuette would be okay. Maud had said that she needed her, and that was a good sign. Maud felt most things were replaceable, so to be thought a necessity by her, even temporarily, meant your chances at making it were rather good.
“Damn. Poor Minny,” said Lemon Hearts. “Don’t know what she did to piss off the Boss. You?”
“She owes Maud money. A lot,” said Octavia. “But that’s not important right now. I need to speak to you.”
“Yeah? What’s wrong?”
“I… I’m looking for a girl. Working girl.”
“Try Midtown. Above 48th Street,” said Lemon Hearts. “You got a type? I’ve got some connections down there to get you a good price. Gotta admit, ‘Tavia, didn’t think you’d be the one to do something like that.”
“No, you twat, I’m looking for a girl who happens to be a prostitute,” said Octavia with a glare. “Her occupation has nothing to do with it. Vinyl Scratch. Blue hair, reddish eyes. About my height. Have you seen her?”
“Hm… I dunno. Sounds familiar. I think maybe by Limestone?” said Lemon Hearts. “Can’t say for sure. Why?”
“Don’t worry yourself over it.” Octavia sighed, recalling her own advice to Minuette. She couldn’t waste any more time. That would only make things worse.
“We got something we need to do, ‘Tavia?” asked Lemon with a yawn. “Or did you call me here just to send Minny off?”
“You fucked up, Hearts. I don’t know what you did with the extra cash, but I hope it was worth it.” Octavia drew her pistol and levelled it at Lemon Hearts’ head.
“What the fuck?!” Lemon raised her hands in surrender. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“May God have mercy on you, Hearts.” Octavia pulled the trigger, sending a cracking ring throughout the storage house. She fired at Hearts’ fallen, bloodied body, then stowed her gun away. She stared at her associate’s corpse, trying her hardest to remind herself that this was the only thing she could do. She had no choice.
Octavia closed Lemon Hearts’ cold, lifeless, vacant eyes, muttering a prayer under her breath. She hoped the best for Hearts, no matter how unlikely the outcome. At the very least, she should have peace. That’s more than most made men could ask for. When the prayer was done, Octavia returned to her car to gather the things she’d need for the cleanup. Once she returned and wrapped the body up, she dragged it out to her car for proper disposal.
She glanced to the sky, which had lost the whimsical light of the early morning. Now, it was the dull, lifeless grey that Octavia had come to expect.
Octavia clutched her arm, gritting her teeth in pain. She was used to the throbs of pain she normally experienced, but this particular wave had caught her off guard. She dug into her glove box, grabbing a small bottle of pills. She popped out two and swallowed them dry, then stepped out of her car. She took a deep breath, then set off into the hardware store. She unlocked the door, then crossed through the dusty, empty room to the speakeasy entrance. She knocked the passcode, waiting for someone to open the door.
“One moment.” Maud’s dull voice echoed through from the other side of the door. Octavia sighed, feeling the painkillers take effect. They didn’t so much remove the pain as it did numb it; Octavia could still feel it throbbing and burning in the background, but it was much easier for her to manage. It made the wait for the door much more bearable.
Octavia was about to light a cigarette when she heard dull thuds, pained grunts and groans. She pressed her ear against the door, trying to get a better listen at what was going on. She heard metallic thunks and grunts of exertion, and then, silence. She backed away from the door, cautiously curious at what was happening.
The door slid open, and two men stepped out, dragging something behind them. In one hand, they each held a lead pipe. In the other, the leg of Minuette, her bloody, bruised, broken body dragging behind them. They nodded silently to Octavia before hoisting Minuette’s body and carrying her out. Octavia sighed, then stepped into the room.
Unlike the day before, the room was entirely empty, save for Maud and Octavia. Maud sat where she did last time, wearing black leather gloves that were all but dripping in dark red blood. Minuette’s blood was splattered across her face, a light mist of red all across.
“Morning,” said Octavia, cautiously taking a step around the trail of blood left by Minuette’s beating. “Are you busy?”
“Not anymore.” Maud leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs over one another. She pulled her bloody gloves off and set them onto the bar. “I take it you did as I asked?”
“Of course. You’ve got a bit of…” Octavia pulled a handkerchief from her breast pocket and offered it to Maud. “You might want to take care of that.” Maud accepted the handkerchief and wiped her face clean.
“Good. We need to talk,” said Maud.
“Talk as in talk or talk as in what you did to Minuette?”
“If it were a talk like that, I would have kept my gloves on.”
“Fair enough.” Octavia slowly strolled through the room, paying close attention to the splatters of blood on the floor. “May I ask why you didn’t just shoot her?”
“I wanted answers,” said Maud. “I have had some concerns, concerns which have been confirmed by my chat with Minuette. And I will be honest. I asked her a question and was not pleased by her answer. So I punished her for it.”
“God forbid I can’t answer a question,” murmured Octavia.
“You have yet to disappoint me. I see no reason why that would change. Sit down.” Octavia did as she was told, taking a seat next to Maud. “Now we are alone. Good. You can never be sure who is listening these days.”
“You’ve had me nervous since last night. It’s not often you get weary of what might be heard,” said Octavia. “You seemed… dare I say it, afraid. That can’t be right.”
“Not afraid. Concerned. It's about Limestone.”
“Yeesh. Now I'm afraid.”
“She has been having trouble with the police lately, and she has been asking for me to divert some of my assets to her,” explained Maud. “I refused, obviously. Limestone then took it upon herself to make offers directly to my men.”
“Hearts and Minuette,” said Octavia.
“Correct. Limestone is trying to steal my men. I can only think of one reason for her to do that.” Maud tapped the bar restlessly, a small grimace spreading across her face. This was already more emotion than Octavia normally saw. “She is going to try to take me out. She wants to take everything I built. I will not let that happen.”
“What's your plan?” asked Octavia. “Or am I not allowed to know?”
“She wants my men. I will give her my men. But I am going to ensure that they are my men. You will go to Limestone. You work for her, but report to me. I want a list of all of the people Limestone has enticed with her offer. Then, when it is all said and done… Clip them. All of them.”
“Maud… You're talking about what could be dozens of people.”
“Then stock up on bullets.”
Octavia bit her lip uncertainly. This wasn't good, by any definition of the word. She couldn't imagine any less than a dozen of traitors by the time her stakeout was finished. If Limestone had gotten to Lemon Hearts and Minuette, then who knows who else had gone against Maud? Heartstrings, Punch, Star, Flitter and Cloudchaser, they were all suspects, and those were only the people Octavia could think of at the moment. The Pie Crime Family was a massive organization, woven deep into Manehattan itself. There was no way to tell for certain how many people were involved with Limestone’s plan, and Octavia was expected to kill them all.
“Maud… I know I'm good, but I'm not that good,” explained Octavia. “You're asking me to go undercover on your sister? Limestone would have me shot just as soon as look at me.”
“I agree that my sister is unstable, but she manages to swallow that in order to further her own agenda,” said Maud. “That is how she secured her spot in the family at all. If you can make certain that she believes you are working in her best interests, she will not harm you.”
“Alright, assuming I don't get shot on sight, what then?” Octavia stood up and started to pace. “Say I do manage to get into Limestone’s good-books, and say I do manage to catalog every single traitor, what then? You expect me to take them on by myself? It could be half the family, for all I know. I'll be dead before I cross five names off the list.”
Octavia stopped, clutching her arm gingerly. This was one of her concerns. If she were in a firefight and was gripped by a wave of pain like this, it could very well cost her her life. Even if she were perfectly healthy and uninjured, this was a tall order.
“Maud, I know I've got blood on my hands. I know I've killed a lot of people for you. Some who deserved it, some who didn't,” said Octavia. “But I'm not a killer. I'm no hired gun. And I'll do what I must for the family, but mass murder because they picked Limestone over you? It's… Well, it's above my pay-grade, for one. It's unthinkable. Unholy. I can only pray for forgiveness so many times before the words lose meaning.”
Maud uncrossed her legs, then stood up. She crossed the room, placing her hands gently on Octavia’s face. Though the gesture was nothing but gentle, it commanded a certain power that could be replicated by few. As Octavia felt Maud’s cold, almost lifeless skin against her own face, she understood what Maud was conveying. She was reminding Octavia who she was. These hands just killed a woman, she seemed to say. Octavia knew that they'd have no qualms with killing another.
“Go speak to Limestone. Now,” said Maud softly. “Do not come see me during business hours. We meet under the light of day from here on out. Understood?”
“M-maud… You can't be serious,” said Octavia. “These so-called traitors… They're still a part of the family. Your family.”
“If they joined with Limestone, they are not a part of my family. They are either with me or against me. Where do you stand, Octavia?”
“I never meant to imply that…”
“Family is very important to me,” Maud continued. She grabbed Octavia gently by the collar, adjusting her coat. “And I like you, Octavia. Ever since you were a child, running messages for me, I knew you were something special. You were born for this.”
“And I'm grateful that you gave me a chance. Honest, I am,” said Octavia. “I do everything I do to thank you for what you've done for me. But this is insane. Killing these men… What will that solve?”
“There's a saying in this business.” Maud returned to her seat, pulling her gloves back on. “‘Never go against the family’. Never go against me. Letting these men go is the same as joining with Limestone. So, I ask you again, Octavia: Whose side are you on?”
Octavia took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Her options were limited to just the one at this point. If she wanted to live to see the sunrise, she would need to start thinking about how she'd earn Limestone’s trust.
“Alright, Boss,” sighed Octavia. “Where do I find her?”
Octavia pulled to a stop just outside of a building that Maud had directed her to; Octavia thought the grey, industrial factory perfectly encapsulated what this city was. It cared not for the individual, only for the sheer haul and quantity. She grabbed her cello case from the backseat, then briskly walked into the factory.
Rows of whirring machinery hummed through the massive building. Tired, lifeless workers put together their products, not paying Octavia any attention. She preferred it that way. It made it much easier for her to cross the room, ascend the rickety steel staircase to the foreman’s office and knock firmly three times.
“If this ain't important, I'm gonna break your fucking legs!”
Octavia was very taken aback but tried to regain her composure quickly. Though she had never met the eldest of the Pie sisters personally, she had heard that Limestone could smell fear.
“Ma’am?” said Octavia. “I'm Octavia Melody. Your sister sent me?”
There was a bit of silence, where Limestone presumably ruminated on what Octavia had said.
“Well? Open the goddamn door!”
Octavia winced at the sharp language but knew very well that Limestone was not the person to correct on decent language. She simply grit her teeth and pushed open the door, stepping into Limestone’s office.
As soon as she was through the threshold of the door, she felt two big, strong hands grab each arm. They dragged her forward, despite her kicking and thrashing. Octavia glanced wildly around, recognizing the men as the ones who had beaten Minuette. It seemed that Octavia already had two on her list.
“Let me go, damn it!” snapped Octavia, futilely fighting to free herself from their grasp.
“Have a seat.” Octavia looked up, noticing Limestone for the first time. Her short, silver hair was a spiky, untidy mess, which, when combined with the wild, rabid look in her dark green eyes, made her seem a mere moment away from a full mental breakdown.
The men who grabbed Octavia unceremoniously dumped her into a seat, leaving her within arm's reach of perhaps the most dangerous, terrifying person Octavia had ever met.
“Melody, right?” asked Limestone. “You know who I am. And if you've worked with my bitch sister, then you know that I'm not to be fucked with. So don't fuck with me.”
“Of course,” said Octavia. “I—”
“I didn't say you could speak yet. There's something I wanna make clear.” Limestone stood up, slamming her hands firmly against the desk. “You don't just work for me, Melody. You belong to me. I ask you to do something, you do it. I ask you to run, you get to stepping. I say jump, start hopping and I'll tell you when you get high enough. If I like your coat, you give me the clothes off your back. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.” said Octavia, her hand twitching for her cello.
“Get up, Melody,” said Limestone. Octavia did as she was told. “Stand over to the right.” Again, Octavia obliged. Limestone pointed to one of the men that had grabbed Octavia, then to the chair that Octavia had just been in.
The man was grabbed by his partner, then forced into the chair. He held his friend in place, wrapping an arm across his throat.
“What the fuck?!” he shouted, kicking and fighting, to no avail.
“You got a gun on you?” asked Limestone. Octavia nodded. “Shoot him.”
Octavia stared at the man in the chair, then drew her Broomhandle with a sigh. She was going to have to kill the guy, anyway. She figured now was as good a time as any. She pressed the barrel against the man’s head.
“Lower,” ordered Limestone. Octavia lowered her gun uncertainly, pressing the barrel to his neck. “Lower!” Octavia aimed her gun at his foot, her stomach turning at the hungry, sadistic grin on Limestone’s face. “Higher.” Octavia winced, finally understanding what Limestone wanted.
She raised her gun higher, aiming at the man’s crotch. She glanced to Limestone, who rabidly, manically nodded. She looked back to her victim, who was begging and pleading her to reconsider.
“Sorry, mate,” murmured Octavia. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the trigger. She almost couldn't hear the gunshot over his screams and swears. Limestone laughed, then leaped over the desk. She punched him as hard as she could, knocking both the chair and the man in it over.
“Fuck you!” shouted Limestone, stomping on the man. “I told you, motherfucker! Keep your dick! Out! Of! The! Merchandise!” Limestone kicked him firmly one last time, huffing and laughing hysterically. “You! Get him out of my office!”
Octavia watched in horror as the man dragged his partner out of the room. Limestone laughed, then sat back in her chair, wiping the blood on her fist onto her pants.
“So, Melody, you got any questions about how things work around here?” asked Limestone.
“N-no, ma'am,” said Octavia. “None at all.”
“Good. Now, let's get to work. You got a cig?” Octavia nodded, pulling a cigarette from the carton in her pocket and offering it to Limestone. “Light it.” Octavia did as she was told, then sat back in her chair. “Alright, good, good. Let’s get to work. What are you here for?”
“I… I beg your pardon?”
“Why the fuck are you here?!” shouted Limestone.
“Er… Whatever you need, ma’am,” said Octavia. She tried not to let on how truly uneasy she felt around Limestone. She held her hand over her gun, ready to draw if something went poorly. Limestone stared at Octavia, blowing smoke in her face.
“Good answer. Now, let me tell you what I need.” Limestone stuck out her tongue and stubbed her cigarette out in her mouth. “So, my half of the family, the half that my bitch sister let me have, it’s built on the back of hookers and drug dealers. Now, I’ve got my drug dealers, but my hookers are scattered.”
“May I ask what happened?”
“That stupid, dirty, no good, sleazy son of a bitch couldn’t keep his hands to himself!” snapped Limestone, slamming her hands on the desk. “I told him to leave them alone, but he didn’t fucking listen! So he kept bugging my girls and I told him to fuck off and he wouldn’t leave ‘em alone! They got spooked off, and now they’re all over the goddamn place!”
“So you want me to find them?” asked Octavia. She wasn’t really certain why Limestone needed her for that. Hunting down prostitutes was a bit beneath her skillset.
“I want you to find one of them. She’s sorta the ringleader. You bring her in, and the rest will follow,” said Limestone. “So go find her. A broad by the name of Vinyl Scratch.”
Octavia’s eyes went a bit wider, which Limestone picked up on immediately. Despite Limestone’s unstable behavior, Octavia could tell with certainty that the eldest Pie was more astute and observant than she originally thought.
“You know her,” said Limestone. “Why? How do you know one of my girls?”
“I don’t know her personally. Just… You know. In passing.”
“Good. So you know where to find her. I want her back by morning. Get to work. Now!”
Octavia stood up, grabbing her cello case and turning for the door. She wanted to get out of the office as quickly as possible. The less time she spent in the presence of Limestone Pie, the better. But, as she neared the door, a question burned in the back of her mind.
“Ma’am?” said Octavia. “What do you suggest I do if she doesn’t want to come with me?”
“You bring me her head in a fucking bag,” said Limestone. “But don’t let it come to that. Get her here, or you’re next in the chair.”
Octavia nodded cautiously to her new boss, then set out in search, once again, for Vinyl Scratch.
Clothes flew across the room, landing haphazardly in the travel bag that Vinyl had set on her bed. Vinyl was in a tizzy, tearing her room apart in an attempt to get everything she needed in order for her departure. She checked her watch, swearing at the time. It was getting late, and she needed to be gone before someone came for her.
She knew she should’ve kept her mouth shut. Just grit her teeth and bare it. Now, she was paying for it. She dug under her bed and returned with another bag. She zipped it open, quickly counting out the money inside. Between her clients in the street and the extra cash from Limestone, Vinyl had just under $2,500. It wasn’t much, but she had made do with less.
Vinyl tipped her money into her luggage, stuffing the bills messily into the bag. At this point, her luggage was overflowing, unable to close completely. Swearing under her breath, Vinyl ripped clothes out of her bag, just barely making enough room for her cash and leaving a few outfits. She grabbed her coat and a pair of purple sunglasses, throwing them on clumsily.
Before Vinyl could make her escape, she heard a knock at her door. She panicked, her eyes darting around in search of some sort of way out. Her apartment was on the twelfth floor, and she’d never climb down her fire escape before whoever was knocking found their way in. Even if she did, there was no doubt that someone was waiting for her at the bottom.
“Shit!” Vinyl grabbed her bag, then ran into her kitchen. She could hear the would-be intruder pick at the lock as she carelessly dug through her drawers. She found a large, sharp kitchen knife, clutching it in both hands as if her life depended on it.
“Put that down, love. You might hurt yourself.”
Vinyl’s eyes went wide, utterly shocked to see Octavia standing before her. Octavia slipped her lockpicks into the breast pocket of her dark trench coat then, politely, removed her hat, holding it to her chest with her left hand. In her right, she held a handgun, which she aimed almost lazily at Vinyl’s chest.
“I s-swear, I didn’t steal that money,” said Vinyl. “I promise, I—”
“I know. I know where you got it,” said Octavia. “You made a deal with Limestone. Funny how things should work out. I’ve found myself under her employment now. We’re co-workers now.”
“Put down the gun, then.”
“See, I would, but I trust you about as far as I could throw you. So, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll keep my gun right where it is, thank you very much.”
“Drop the gun,” ordered Vinyl. “Don’t make me hurt you.” To her annoyance, Octavia laughed.
“You’re clearly not too bright, sweetheart, so let me fill you in,” said Octavia. “In the rock-paper-scissors of life, bullet tends to beat knife. I could kill you three times over before you so much as considered slashing at me. So put down the bloody knife, and we can get this over with.”
“What’s the point? Just shoot me now,” said Vinyl. “It’s better than whatever it is Pie’ll do to me.” Vinyl stepped back, her back pressed to her counter. She had nowhere to run. “So just fucking do it!”
“What the devil are you talking about?” Octavia took a careful step forward. “I’m not here to kill you. You’re being called in. Limestone isn’t cross with you. Well, not more cross than she is with anyone.” Octavia continued her approach, lowering her gun slightly. “So why do you reckon the Boss wants you dead?”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh man, fuck.” Vinyl grabbed a fistful of her own hair, still trembling slightly. “I fucked up. Really, really bad.”
“What did you do?”
“I… I squealed.”
Octavia swore under her breath, her grip on her pistol growing a bit tighter. She closed the distance between her and Vinyl, yanked the knife from her hand, and pressed the gun against Vinyl’s forehead.
“Explain to me why you would do something as daft as squeal on Limestone Pie,” said Octavia. “And you had better make sure that I like your answer.”
“I didn’t, I swear, not on Limestone. One of her guys,” said Vinyl. “He’s a top guy. His name is Adonis. He was hassling me and my girls, and Pie wouldn’t get him to knock it off, so I squealed on him! The cops said they’d look into him, but they couldn’t do anything for me. Fuck! I’m dead, I’m dead!”
“Shut up, Scratch. Let me think.” Octavia took in a deep breath, then moved her gun from Vinyl’s head. “You said he was hassling you. Define hassling.”
“He’d hit us. Abuse us. Sometimes worse. Not like anyone cared. People see a girl like me walking down the street with a black eye, it’s somehow my fault,” said Vinyl. “They guess I should’ve thought of the consequences before I started sleeping around for a living. That’s what I get for trying to make ends meet.”
“Shit. You really made things complicated,” said Octavia. She begrudgingly shoved her gun into its holster. “Alright. I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?”
“I need some good news right about now.”
“Alright, fair enough. The good news is that I’m pretty sure Adonis is dead now. That means the police won’t be able to chat with him and get anything else on Limestone.” Octavia grabbed Vinyl’s wrist and pulled her closer. “The bad news is that now we’ve got to go see Limestone, and she’s not going to be happy that you opened your mouth.”
“No, fuck that. Kill me. Just kill me,” said Vinyl. “Don’t bring me to that goddamn maniac!”
“Please mind your language, love, and I doubt Limestone will kill you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. There’s not many things that beat out death for shittiest thing ever. Having Limestone Pie angry at you is one of those few things.”
“Listen to me. This is bigger than you. Bigger than me. This is about the entire Pie family. You pissing about is going to get me killed, and that won’t bode well for anyone. So, my suggestion is that you come along with me and start thinking of how to get on Limestone’s good side.”
Vinyl took in a shaky breath, thinking things over. She didn’t want to die, but a bullet to the head now sure beat what Limestone would do to her. She’d heard the stories, seen the bodies of people who made her angry, and Vinyl didn’t want that for herself at all. She really backed herself into a corner here.
“Please tell her to go easy on me,” begged Vinyl. “I’ve seen some of the shit she’s done to people, and I… Just, please. Help me.”
Octavia stood silent for a moment, her jaw clenched in thought. She grabbed Vinyl a bit tighter by the arm and dragged her out of the kitchen and towards the door.
“Limestone told me that, if you gave me any trouble, I should bring her your head in a bag,” said Octavia. “Don’t make me regret ignoring that advice.”
Vinyl nodded, allowing Octavia to lead her outside the apartment and to the car. Vinyl took in a deep breath, knowing it could very well be one of her last, then prepared herself to meet with the most dangerous woman in Manehattan.
Octavia glanced to her right, to the woman who was causing her this headache. She should have shot Vinyl on sight. She knew that she’d have to kill her eventually. Why not now? Vinyl’s confession should have sealed the deal. Limestone would certainly understand if Octavia killed a traitor, and that’s just what Vinyl was. Octavia had no ties to this girl, save for a passing curiosity. She had nothing to gain, but everything to lose, by sticking her neck out for Vinyl.
“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” ordered Octavia, pulling up to Limestone’s factory. “Let me talk to her first. And, when you do have to speak, you push the angle that you were scared. Terrified. You thought he’d kill you. You thought he’d kill all of your friends. And you make sure Limestone remembers how useful you and your friends are to her. If that doesn’t work, you fucking lie. You tell her that Adonis was talking about how he was trying to take over Limestone’s half of the family. You don’t know he’s dead. As far as Limestone knows, I walked into your apartment, grabbed you, and drove you here in silence.”
“And if she doesn’t buy it?” asked Vinyl.
“You pray to God that Limestone makes it quick for you.” Octavia opened her door and stepped out of the car, beckoning for Vinyl to follow. Together, the two crossed the desolate lot and stepped into the factory. They navigated through the building easily, arriving at Limestone’s office far sooner than either would have liked. Octavia knocked firmly, part of her praying for nobody to answer.
“It’s Melody,” said Octavia.
“It’s about fucking time! Get your ass in here!”
Octavia sighed, then opened the door. She stepped into the room, gesturing for Vinyl to take a seat across from Limestone, who had her feet kicked up onto her desk, a large knife in her hand. She spun the blade on her palm, a lit cigarette in her mouth. Limestone sat up straight, stabbing her knife into the desk.
“The fuck have you been, Scratch?” demanded Limestone.
“Ma’am, she’s been—,” began Octavia.
“Didn’t ask you. Shut the fuck up.” Limestone stood up, strolling around the room. She moved like a predator stalking its prey, her eyes once again filled with that crazed, unhinged anger. “I was talking to the whore. Answer me.”
“I-I… I was at home. Ma’am. Planning to run,” said Vinyl, looking anywhere but directly at Limestone.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to run off. Matter of fact, I remember telling you to bring your ass in by morning,” said Limestone. “It’s a shame, really, I bet you would’ve enjoyed what Melody here did to Adonis. He won’t be bothering you anymore, let me tell you.” Limestone giggled, despite her best attempts against it. “Don’t ever do some shit like this again, okay?”
“Y-yes, ma’am. Of course not.”
“Good. So, I need you to gather the girls up, we need to get back to business,” said Limestone. She puffed on her cigarette idly. “I’ve lost a lot of money because of your little vacation, and I expect to be paid back in full.”
“Of course. I’ll get right on that.” Vinyl stood up, only to be stopped by Octavia. The two stared each other down, Vinyl silently pleading for Octavia to let her go. Octavia shook her head, which sealed Vinyl’s fate. “Miss Pie? There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Don’t care.”
“Er… Ma’am?” said Octavia. “You’ll want to hear this. It’s about Adonis.”
“Melody, I want you to read my lips,” said Limestone, pointing to her mouth. “I don’t give a shit.”
“Ma’am, Scratch went to the police about Adonis.”
Time seemed to freeze, nobody moving or even breathing for a moment. Vinyl stared at the floor, praying beyond reason that Limestone would do something, say something to make this okay.
“You spoke to the cops?” asked Limestone. Vinyl nodded timidly, biting her lip. Limestone took in a deep, calming breath, gently placing her hand on top of Vinyl’s head.
“I don't think she said much,” said Octavia. “And, with Adonis dead, it shouldn't much matter.”
“You spoke to the cops. Why would you speak to the cops?!” Limestone grabbed Vinyl’s hair tightly, tilting her head up. She pulled the cigarette from her mouth and jammed the lit end to Vinyl’s neck. Vinyl hissed in pain, then grunted as Limestone tossed her out of her seat and to the ground.
“Ma’am, I…” Octavia trailed off as Limestone descended onto Vinyl.
“You dumb bitch!” shouted Limestone, battering Vinyl brutally. She accompanied each slur with a firm punch to the face. “Snitch, rat, squealing piece of shit cunt!”
“Ma’am, don’t hurt her,” said Octavia. Limestone dropped Vinyl immediately, turning to face Octavia. She slowly approached, backing Octavia up against the wall.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” snarled Limestone.
“I just meant—”
“I didn’t ask you what you meant, I asked you what you said. So tell me what the fuck you just said to me.”
“I said… not to hurt her,” said Octavia, her eyes darting nervously. She had no place to go, barely even room to draw her gun if she wanted to. Even if she could, Limestone would be on her before she could squeeze the trigger halfway.
“Who the hell do you think you are? Remember what I said to you, Melody? I own your ass!” snapped Limestone. “I don’t like backtalk. And I’d cut your tongue out through your fucking gut if I didn’t get you from my bitch sister for talking to me like that. So you know what? I won’t hurt her.” Limestone slapped Octavia firmly, then returned to her desk. She wrenched the knife from its surface and handed it to Octavia. “You will. Kill the bitch.”
“Miss Pie… Please, I’m sorry,” coughed Vinyl, through a mouthful of blood. “P-please… Don’t…”
“Kill her! Kill her right now!” ordered Limestone. Octavia clutched the knife uneasily, staring down at Vinyl as she clumsily crawled away. For some reason, Octavia couldn’t bring herself to do it. She knew that it was for the best and that Vinyl would be dead soon anyway. But, in that moment, Octavia couldn’t bring herself to hurt Vinyl. She didn’t have to die. It was unnecessary. The only thing that killing Vinyl would accomplish would is appeasing a mad woman.
Octavia pushed past Limestone and stuck the knife back in her desk.
“Miss Pie, with all due respect, you’re thinking with your heart instead of your head,” said Octavia. “At the end of the day, killing Scratch would just end up fucking you over in the long run. Think about it. Vinyl snitched on Adonis, this is true. Then, he turns up dead. No more trail. No more investigation. So, the police default back to Vinyl. But, if she were to turn up dead, now there’s a connection between two murders. The cops look into things a bit deeper. It’s only a matter of time before they find some link between Adonis, Vinyl, and you.”
“There wouldn’t be an investigation to start with,” huffed Limestone. “If that fucking slut would’ve kept her mouth shut!”
“I agree, but you should consider that maybe that fucking slut brought us a blessing in disguise,” said Octavia, gently holding her hand forward. “Maud sent me over here because you’ve been having an issue with the police. Now that Vinyl is in communications with the cops, not only would letting her live avoid troublesome questions, but it gets me an in. If I can get an ear in on the cops, I can help develop a plan to get them off of our backs.”
Limestone remained silent, save for her angry huffing and muttering. She paced around the office, running her hands wildly through her hair, occasionally pausing to kick her desk frustratedly. Limestone shouted manically, swiping everything off of her desk. She took in a deep, calming breath and sat down.
“If you don’t have my issues solved soon, I’m mulch you and feed you to the goddamn pigs,” said Limestone. “You’ve got a month. If I don’t see any progress, you’re dead. You hear me? You’re fucking dead!”
“Of course, ma’am. Thank you for your understanding,” said Octavia. “Scratch and I will get right to work on that. You won’t regret this.”
“I better not. Get out of my office.”
Octavia nodded, then quickly grabbed Vinyl by the arm and pulled her to her feet. Octavia had to practically carry her new beaten, battered partner in crime out of the office.
“Don’t thank me. I’m not doing this because I’m secretly a good person. I’m no angel,” said Octavia. “You had better believe that I’m not doing this for free, Scratch. I expect you to help me out.” Vinyl nodded weakly, wiping the blood from her nose. “And mind the coat. Blood doesn’t wash out easily.”
“Heh. I’ll be careful.” Vinyl pushed herself off of Octavia, having gained enough fortitude to support her own weight. The two walked down from the office, heading for the exit of the factory. “Alright. Fuck. She kicked my ass.”
“Could’ve been worse,” said Octavia. “You handled things pretty well. You can take a thrashing.”
“Part of the job, really.”
“Good. You’ll need that skill where you’re going.” Octavia pulled out her carton of cigarettes, offering one to Vinyl before taking one herself.
“Where am I going?” asked Vinyl. Octavia sighed, lighting her cigarette and taking a puff.
Vinyl mumbled incoherently, still trapped in the sandman’s spell. She was so sore after her encounter with Limestone that she wanted nothing more than to sleep. Sleep through the pain, wake up, go to work, then sleep some more.
“Now, love, I’m getting impatient.”
“Five more…” mumbled Vinyl, turning over in her bed. As she drifted nearer to consciousness, she realized that she couldn’t recall undressing for bed. In fact, she couldn’t remember getting into her home. The last thing Vinyl remembered was the factory, how she had nearly been beaten to death by the Pie family maniac, and how she had been saved by an unlikely hero…
A slurry of frigid liquid torrented down onto Vinyl, snapping her out of sleep and sending her rocketing out of bed.
“What the fuck!” she sputtered, raking the wet locks of her hair from her eyes.
“The early bird catches the worm, Scratch,” said Octavia, setting down her bucket. She didn’t have her typical coat at the moment, which allowed Vinyl to see her fully for the first time. The skin on Octavia’s arms was scarred, peeling. It was redder than the rest of her, from something that never quite healed. Vinyl stared, wondering what exactly could have scarred her like that. She was no doctor, but they looked like burns to her.
“Are you going to stare or are you going to get ready to work?” asked Octavia sharply.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to… Yeah, sorry.” Vinyl looked around the sparsely decorated bedroom, feeling immediately uneasy. “Uh… This your place?”
“Well, I certainly couldn’t bring you back to yours,” said Octavia. “You're a runner, eh? I couldn't be sure you'd be there when I came to collect you. Get up. Go shower. I’ve got the kettle on. How do you like your eggs?”
“Whatever is fine. I don’t have clothes,” said Vinyl. “Didn’t exactly plan on this little sleepover.”
“I put out a set of spares for you in the bathroom. Luckily, you’re about my size, though my shirt might be a touch baggy on you.”
“It’s fine. Thanks. Where’s your bathroom?”
“Just outside this room, to your right,” said Octavia, leaving the room. “Hurry up, we need to get moving quickly.”
Vinyl nodded, then began pulling off her soaking wet clothing before heading out to the bathroom. She found the clothes that Octavia had set out, then stripped completely and stepped into the shower. Vinyl had perfected the art of the quick shower (no doubt thanks to her career path), and she was out in under five minutes. She toweled off, got redressed, and stepped out of the bathroom.
She followed the smell of bacon to the kitchen. Octavia didn’t acknowledge her existence, instead focusing on putting breakfast together. Vinyl stood there awkwardly for several moments before deciding the polite thing to do was to offer her assistance.
“Uh… You want some help?” asked Vinyl.
“Sit, Scratch,” said Octavia flatly. Vinyl took a seat at the small round table, nervously watching the mobster before her put together their meal. “Tea?”
“Sure? I don’t really drink tea.”
“It was a rhetorical question, really. You’ll have to forgive me, Trottingham leaves some habits I couldn’t break if I tried.” Octavia slid a plate over to Vinyl loaded with scrambled eggs and bacon. “Us limeys aren’t known for our hospitality, but we do tend to offer a cuppa without much considering the idea that the other might say no.”
“So… I’m confused. Do I want tea or not?”
There was a knock at the door, which Octavia seemed to be waiting for. She quickly strolled through the kitchen, down the short hall, and unlocked her door. She pulled it open, letting the Doctor into her home.
“I smell bacon,” said the Doctor. “I’m starving.”
“Don't get used to this, Doctor, I’m not running a damned bed and breakfast here. Come along, take a seat,” said Octavia, returning to the kitchen. “Tea?”
“Please.”
“See? That’s the appropriate response.” Octavia served the Doctor a plate, then poured out a cup of tea for each of her guests. “Sit, mate, and you’ve got sugar there on the table. If you need cream, let me know.”
“Thanks, Mel,” said the Doctor, taking a seat next to Vinyl. “Hello, miss. I don’t think we’ve met.”
“She’s the hooker I’ve been following,” said Octavia flatly. She grabbed a plate of her own and took a seat. “Vinyl, Doctor. Doctor, Vinyl. Now that we’re all best mates, we need to get to work.”
“Mh-hm. What do you need?” asked the Doctor.
“I need Vinyl to get arrested. And I need you there when that happens.”
“Uh… Does Vinyl get a vote here?” asked Vinyl.
“She does not. Because Vinyl fucked everything up for me,” said Octavia with a false smile. “So, to save her own ass, Vinyl is going to help me.”
“What did she do?” asked the Doctor.
“Something that you don’t need to hear about. I just needed to know if you had any friends down at the station. You’re on the streets more than I am. Do you know any cops that can be swayed to let her go when I need her?”
The Doctor mulled it over, picking at his breakfast. He looked Vinyl up and down, no doubt wondering who had given her that black eye and busted lip. The Doctor took a sip of his tea, cautiously thinking things over before speaking.
“Yeah, I know a guy. When would you need her out?” asked the Doctor.
“As early as tomorrow morning. Is it possible?”
“It’ll cost you, but, given your paycheck from the Boss, I doubt that’s a huge concern,” said the Doctor. “Explain to me why you need her in jail?”
“Well, for one, I need her to stay out of trouble. Beyond that, mate… They don't pay you enough to think on it. Don't trouble yourself over it.”
“You're asking me to act on a lot of faith, Mel,” said the Doctor uneasily.
“I am. And I understand that you have reservations,” said Octavia. “But I need you to understand that I wouldn’t be asking you if I could do it myself. So I’m asking you, as a friend, to help me out here.”
“Mel… I wanna help you, but can you really expect me to just do this shit blind? I need something, alright? Tell me something.” The Doctor stood up and pushed his chair in. “Why do you need her in jail? What have you gotten yourself into? What are you planning?”
Octavia took a sip of her tea, hoping the warmth of it would reassure her. Despite the tea, she was still nervous. She still had a large problem to deal with, and now she had roped the Doctor into things. If Limestone found out that the Doctor worked for Maud, he was as good as dead. If Maud found out that Octavia had asked him for help, against her wishes, he was as good as dead. If Vinyl failed to learn anything useful in prison, they were all dead.
“The less you know, the safer you are,” said Octavia carefully. “It’s not often that people in this business get killed for not knowing enough, but they get whacked for knowing too much every day. I don’t want that for you. Stay stupid, just this once.”
The Doctor sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. He crossed his arms over his chest, glancing at Vinyl.
“Well? Are you coming or not?” asked the Doctor. “Let’s see if we can’t have some fun while you’re getting locked up.”
“Seriously, I don’t get a say in the matter?” asked Vinyl, slowly getting up from her seat.
“I believe you’ve spoken enough, Ms. Scratch, I’m sure you’ll agree,” said Octavia. “The best thing you can do right now is keep your mouth shut, do as I ask, and pray we get something out of this.”
“And you’ll be back for me, right?” asked Vinyl. “You’re not gonna stick me in a cell and leave me for dead, are you?”
Octavia looked at her two unlikely partners, trying to figure out how things got out of hand so quickly. She sighed, then went about clearing the table of their breakfast dishes. She set the plates in the sink, taking a sip of her tea. She was wasting time here. It was getting late, and Octavia wanted to speak to Maud before she found herself in even more trouble than she was already in.
“Unfortunately for the both of us, Ms. Scratch,” said Octavia with a sigh. “I think I’m stuck keeping you around for the time being.”
Octavia slid into the hardware store, clenching her jaw as she quickly unlocked the door to the bar. It was far too early for service, so she didn’t need to bother going through the motions of the speakeasy’s secret knock, much to Octavia’s relief. Once she was in the bar proper, Octavia went directly for the bar, grabbed a glass and a bottle of whiskey, and poured herself a drink. She took a seat at the bar, let out a sigh, and took a sip.
The pain from her burns was starting to return. It crept up her arms, wrapping itself around her muscles like a vine of thorns. As she polished off her drink, Octavia reached into her coat pocket and withdrew her painkillers. After skimming over the label quickly, she confirmed what she already knew; the pills shouldn’t be consumed with alcohol.
Octavia poured herself another drink and used it to drown two pills, then slipped the bottle back into her pocket.
“You’ve changed your drink.”
“Christ almighty!” Octavia nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice. She took a deep breath, then turned to face her boss. Maud seemed unphased, crossing the room to take a seat next to Octavia. “Son of a bitch, Maud! You’re going to give me a heart attack if you keep popping up like that!”
“You’ve changed your drink,” repeated Maud. “You normally take your whiskey on the rocks.”
“What? Oh.” Octavia glanced at her glass, not really having thought of it much. “I fancied it neat today.”
“Hm. Have you started your task?”
Octavia finished off her whiskey, then stood up and went behind the bar. With no staff on hand, she would have to add bartender to her resume. Asking Maud what she wanted would be a mistake after so many years of working and drinking together, so Octavia went about fixing the usual; gin and tonic.
“Sort of. I hit a bit of a snag,” said Octavia. She stirred Maud’s drink, garnished with a wedge of lime, then slid it across to the Boss of the Pie Family. “That sister of yours is something else.”
“I am aware. What snag?”
“She had me shoot a bloke’s willy off.” Octavia winced at the memory, remembering the anguished screams. “Adonis. He was one of yours. Limestone had me kill him. His partner’s still around, though.”
“How is that a snag?” asked Maud. She chewed on her lime thoughtfully. “That sounds like an efficient way to achieve our goals.”
“The reason she had me kill Adonis is because he was harassing a few of her working girls. One of those working girls, unaware that Adonis was dead, spoke to the police for fear of her life.”
“And you killed her, yes?”
“Well… No.” Octavia could feel Maud’s gaze solidify on her, almost as if turning to stone. “I need the girl. She’s the go-to for information, and she’d be extremely useful in compiling my list of Limestone’s allies. But, unfortunately, your sister… She’s got a bit of a mean streak. Nearly battered this girl to death. I managed to convince her to stop, but I ended up promising to help Limestone solve her police problem. I’ve got a month to make progress, and I’ve got no idea where to start.”
Maud nodded slowly, understanding the situation well. She knew better than just about anyone how dangerous Limestone could be. She could understand Octavia’s predicament. Maud finished off her drink and slid her glass over for another, which Octavia quickly fixed for her.
“So I imagine you are postponing the main task at hand?” said Maud.
“Just until I can help Limestone solve her police problem. I’m already working on it. And, frankly, we would’ve needed to do this anyway,” said Octavia. “Once you’ve gotten Limestone out of the picture, all of her problems will become your problems.” Maud silently chewed on her lime, as if she didn’t even hear Octavia. “Speaking of which… How do you plan on removing Limestone? Am I supposed to… Or do you want to be the one to… Ahem. Whack her.”
“There seems to be a common misconception about my family,” said Maud, a strange bit of heat in her voice. “Limestone may hate me, but I do not hate her. And, despite that hate, Limestone would never kill me unprovoked. So I will extend that same courtesy to her. She is my sister, despite all of her anger and resentment and envy. I still love her. She loves me. We take her troops, we take her infrastructure, we take her power. But we do not take her life.”
Octavia sighed, not knowing if she preferred this recourse over its alternative. Killing Limestone would be far simpler, but quite dangerous for everyone involved. At the same time, it wouldn’t exactly be a cakewalk to take everything from Limestone and leave her for the wolves.
“Alright, then. Whatever you say, Boss,” said Octavia. “Another drink?”
“I really should be going.” Maud rose from her seat, adjusting her coat on her way to the door. “Good luck. Thank you for breakfast.”
“Maud, booze is not a part of a balanced breakfast. Please, get a proper meal in you before you keel over.”
“Funny. Goodbye, Octavia.” Octavia watched Maud leave, her nerves strangely calmed. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the whiskey or the fact that Maud hadn’t somehow complicated the situation too much, or perhaps the fact that she had nearly gotten the stoic Maud Pie to chuckle, but she felt much better than she did the night before.
Octavia poured herself another whiskey, this time with ice, before setting out for the factory to speak to her other boss.
“So…” said Vinyl, keeping pace with the Doctor as they strolled through the busy mid-morning streets. “How’d you meet Octavia?”
“You know about her arms?” asked the Doctor. Vinyl nodded. “Well, she came into my clinic one day to see about solving her pain. Like all the doctors she saw before me, I told her that there wasn’t anything I could do about it. What neither of us knew was that she was being watched by the Apple family. They assumed that Mel was there on business, and they torched my clinic. They would’ve killed me if Mel wasn’t there. She said she owed me, so she gave me a job. It started off as being a medic for our foot soldiers, but I climbed my way to the position I am in now.”
“Wait, you’re actually a doctor?”
“You sound surprised.”
“Well, I thought doctors had a ‘do no harm’ policy,” said Vinyl. The Doctor chuckled, turning the corner and heading down a significantly less busy side street. Vinyl followed, not knowing exactly where they were going or what the Doctor planned for her to do. She didn’t mind too much, with quick-thinking being one of her greater skills.
“Yeah, well, shit changes. I had a change of perspective. When I graduated from med school, I swore an oath to apply all required measures for the benefit of the sick. I promised to always look for a way to cure all disease. I spent years training, learning the body, building my very own practice.” The Doctor sighed as he thought on how things had gone so far off the rails. “And four men snatched it all away from me in one night, in one single motion. And, at that point, I realized that it was pointless to try and heal everyone. The very city is diseased. You can’t cure that.”
“So you decided to become the disease?”
“It pays far better.”
It was silent for a few as the two continued down the street, eventual stopping at a small house on the corner. The Doctor went around back, leaving Vinyl waiting at the front. He returned a few short moments later with a small silver flask. He slipped it into her hand, grinning while he did.
“How well do you hold your liquor?” he asked.
“Pretty well.”
“Not this, you don’t. Stronger than the dreck we’ve been calling cider ever since prohibition passed. When I was patching folks up for Mel, I’d give this to patients who needed amputations.” The Doctor chuckled darkly. “A week later, they’d come up to me, asking what the hell happened to their fingers.”
“What am I supposed to do with this?” asked Vinyl. “And, follow up question, what can I do to ensure I still have all my appendages by the time we’re done?” The Doctor gave a good-natured chuckle, patting Vinyl on the back.
“You’re going to drink it in the presence of a police officer,” said the Doctor. “As for the appendages, all I can promise you is that I’ll try my best to show restraint. Now tuck that away and come on, Ms. Scratch. Getting caught over here won’t do us any good. My guy works Midtown, so we’ve got a bit of a walk.”
Vinyl nodded, slipped the flask into her pocket, and began walking alongside the Doctor. Things remained silent for the first three blocks of their journey. After After a spell of quiet, the Doctor decided that it was his turn to ask some questions of his own.
“What are you and Mel up to?” he asked. “What is all of this for?”
“I've gotten myself into enough trouble by running my mouth,” said Vinyl. “Even if I knew for sure, I couldn't tell you. Octavia would kill me.” The Doctor laughed, which annoyed Vinyl to no end. “I didn't know that me getting shot was that damn funny.”
“No, sorry. You misunderstood,” said the Doctor. “I'm laughing because you think she's actually going to hurt you.”
“Why wouldn't she?”
“Because you're cute, a bit smart-mouthed, and a hard worker. Just her type. She'll never hurt you if she can help it.”
Vinyl shook her head, not buying into the Doctor’s idea. It was ridiculous. Octavia must’ve hated her for the shit she got them both in. Besides, if Octavia threatened and kidnapped the women she was interested in, then Vinyl wasn’t sure if she wanted anything to do with her.
“You ever feel like you’ve bitten off more than you can chew?” asked Vinyl. “Like you’ve made a mistake you can’t ever fix?”
“Only every day. We’re pretty similar, you and I,” said the Doctor. “Small-time players in a big-time game. But we get by. Always have, always will. You’re a resourceful gal, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say it like that.” Vinyl sighed, wishing she could take a drink from that flask right then and there. “I’m in over my head…”
“And you’ll survive. It’s what people like us do. Which is why I’m not at all doubting your chances in the box,” said The Doctor. He stopped Vinyl, pointing to the corner on the other end of the street they were on. “There ya go, Scratch. Just ‘round that corner is my guy’s beat. So go on, have some fun, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“This is a bad idea,” said Vinyl.
“Well, frankly, we don’t get paid enough to give a damn.”
Vinyl shook her head, slipping the flask out of her pocket. With one last cautious look at The Doctor, she took a deep sip and headed down the street, hoping, for the first time in her life, that she’d attract the attention of the police.
Octavia walked briskly through the factory, hoping that she wasn’t especially late. Limestone never told her exactly when to turn up for work, but, somehow, Octavia didn’t think such things mattered. Hopefully, Octavia would be able to catch Limestone in a good mood, assuming she was capable of such things.
“What? No! I said no, you stupid bitch! Don’t fucking—! Don’t you fucking—! Don’t you fucking cut me off!”
Apparently, Octavia would have no such luck. She hurried up to Limestone’s office, waiting for her employer to call on her.
“Look, I’m not going to fucking do it. It’s not gonna—! I swear to fucking God, if you talk over me again, I will punch every one of your teeth down your fucking throat!” It got quiet for a bit, which led Octavia to believe that Limestone was on the phone. “Listen to me. Are you listening? Shut the fuck up and listen! I wouldn’t sit down with that selfish, stuck-up, self-serving cunt for all the cash in the world. No, I don’t care if you want it. No! Don’t come here! If you like having all ten of your fingers, you stay your fat ass home. I mean it! If you show your face around here, I’ll chop your fucking hand off, stir-fry it, and shove it down your goddamn throat! You hear me?! Stay home!”
Octavia winced as Limestone slammed the phone down, then gave a loud, almost bestial shout. Her blood ran cold, but Octavia brought her fist up and knocked anyway. The last thing she wanted to do right now was be in a room with a clearly pissed Limestone, but her options were pretty limited. She had to make this work. If not for her sake, then for Maud’s.
The door flew open, revealing a huffing, panting, rabid-looking Limestone Pie. She looked Octavia up and down, like a lion to a gazelle, before grabbing her by the collar and dragging her into the room. Limestone kicked the door shut, then shoved Octavia into a chair across from her desk.
“What did you hear?” snarled Limestone.
“From about the bit where you kept getting cut off,” said Octavia.
“That was the whole damn conversation, be specific.”
“I believe your exact words were ‘I said no, you stupid bitch’.” Octavia noted Limestone’s twitching eye and clenched fist, deciding to proceed with caution. “But, if anyone asks, I didn’t hear a damn thing.”
“Good answer. What do you want?” Limestone swiped the phone off of her desk and took a seat on its surface. “You better be here for a reason.”
“Wanted to give you an update, ma’am. I sent Vinyl to gather some information for me. I’ll have a plan for your police issue within a week,” reported Octavia. “But, for now, if you have anything that needs doing…”
“Matter a fact, I’m glad you’re here,” said Limestone. “The Apple family are trying to make moves on Manehattan. Those hick-ass, hillbilly, redneck, sister-fucking bastards are on my turf.”
“I suppose you want me to relocate these gentlemen?” asked Octavia. This job didn’t sound too bad, compared to what she had been up to lately. At least this time, she would be shooting at enemies instead of people who were supposed to be on her side.
“They’re holed up in an old church on 75th street.” Limestone grinned madly. “I want it burned to the ground.”
Octavia’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t protest. She couldn’t, not if she wanted to keep her head. She rose from her seat, hoping beyond reason that Limestone would change her mind. This wasn’t some old building or shop Limestone was talking about. This was a holy place. A place of worship. Not only that, Octavia wasn’t exactly fond of fire after what happened to her arms. But an order was an order, and, if Octavia had to deal with the Devil, she’d rather wait until she was dead, rather than angering the one she sat across from now.
“I’ll be off, then,” sighed Octavia. “I’ve gotta go get some gas.”
Octavia took in a deep breath, trying to steady herself for the task at hand. She watched the church carefully, stalling for an excuse to back out. Every opportunity that presented itself, Octavia talked herself out of it, finding some reason to wait. A new car pulled in, or an Apple slipped out for a smoke. Anything to avoid what was, in her opinion, the most detestable thing she had ever had to do. Yet, as much as she hated it, she knew that it was far preferable to angering Limestone Pie.
“Lord, please forgive me,” mumbled Octavia, folding her hands together in a quick prayer. “Forgive me for what I have done, and for what I must do. Please send your Holy Spirit to help me obey You, and to do Your will for the rest of my life, amen.”
Octavia sighed, then stepped out of her car. She went around the back and popped open the trunk. Her eyes lingered on her cello case for a moment before she disregarded it and scooped up the gas canister and headed for the church just up the block. She moved with purpose, coming up on the building in just a few seconds.
The building was decrepit, barely standing of its own accord. All of the windows were boarded, save for one at the front, which let Octavia see through into the church. From her viewpoint, she saw two men conversing in the single room, near the altar. There were three cars parked outside, which meant there was at least one Apple that Octavia couldn’t see. The opportune thing for Octavia to do would be to board the doors and prepare the fire.
Instead, Octavia snuck around the side, looking for the extra gangster. She told herself that it was to ensure the job would go quickly and cleanly, with minimal risk. That extra gangster could cause complications, sneak up on her and cause her problems down the road.
“So, Ah ask the lady, straight up, are you outta yer fuckin’ mind? If y’all wanna dance the dance wit’ Psycho Pie, be my fucking guest, just don’t expect to come out with with all yer men in one piece.”
Octavia peered around the corner of the building, drawing her pistol and holding it at the ready. Behind the church, sitting on cinderblocks, were two men and one woman. One of them, with freckles and a large hat, was taking a swig from a jug that Octavia thought must’ve contained moonshine. If the Apples posed any threat to the Pie family, it was due to the potency of their booze. Octavia could understand why Limestone was concerned by their presence. If the sober masses of Manehattan had to choose between Pie cider and Apple hooch, the Pies would take a serious hit to their bank accounts.
“And she let’cha walk out after that?” The man nearest to Octavia spoke, snatching the moonshine from his friend. He spoke slowly and his voice was low, deep. “Ah wouldn’t even think of talking to tha boss like that.”
“Ah’m callin bullshit, Brae.” The woman who spoke was on the young side, nineteen or so by Octavia’s best guess. “We all know that the boss would break yer leg before she let’cha run yer mouth like that to her.”
“Shit, okay, so maybe Ah didn’t say it like that. Ah did warn her that this was a bad idea.” It was the first Apple, a smaller man with blondish hair and a brown leather jacket. “This shit is crazy! What in the sam hills is we even doin’ here? Y’know, besides throwing ourselves off a cliff like some damn lemmings!”
“We got our orders. Disrupt Pie business, get money flowing down south,” said the woman. “If y’all wanna go up to AJ and say ‘fuck this’, be my guest. Personally, Ah like bein’ away from the business end of mah sister’s gun.”
“Funny how y’all are so concerned with Applejack’s orders when Ah happen to recall her ordering you to stop cussing so damn much. And to stay away from the hooch.”
“AJ ain’t here, Mac, and you ain’t the boss of me.”
Octavia frowned slightly, trying to decide what to do next. When Limestone sent her to burn the church, Octavia had to believe that she didn’t know who was there. From what she could tell, she wasn’t just dealing with the Apple Family. She was dealing with the Apple family. At the very least, the woman was directly related to the boss.
“What to do, what to do?” Octavia bit her tongue gently in thought. This was a particularly sticky situation.
“Ah’ll be back, gang, gotta take a piss.”
Octavia held her gun at the ready, backing herself away from the incoming Apple and diving behind a large, nearby bush for cover. He didn’t seem to see her, which was good news. He whistled as he did his business, which gave Octavia the sound cover she needed to draw her Broomhandle and carefully aim it at his head.
“Hey, Braeburn, hurry yer ass up!” called the woman. “We gotta get back to work!”
“Ah’m comin’, Ah’m comin!” Braeburn finished his business and was about to return to his cohorts when he paused. Octavia watched him tensely, waiting for him to make a move. Then, a faint shriek of a siren cut through the air, freezing Octavia in place. It was a police cruiser, and it was coming nearer.
“Fuck,” she hissed. It seemed Braeburn had much the same reaction, immediately taking off to join with his family.
“Shit! Mac, Applebloom, go get the boys ready to go, I’ll move the product!” said Braeburn. “Why the hell are the cops coming?!”
“Just shut up and move, Braeburn!”
Octavia stowed her gun away for the time being, focusing her attention on retreat. She hurried from behind her bush, hoping to sneak out and make it back to her car.
“Breach the front doors. I’ll circle around, pick off stragglers. Back-up will be here soon.”
Octavia leapt back into the shadows, pressing her back against the wall. The cruiser was already upon the church, much quicker than she would have predicted. The car itself was brand new, as were the uniforms of the two officers that were leaving it. To Octavia’s surprise, they didn’t carry the standard issue handguns, instead carrying military-grade automatic rifles. Whoever these two were, they weren’t typical cops.
Octavia couldn’t see much of either of them, but she did manage to view a bit of the lead woman’s face. Not much, just a bit of her porcelain skin, a few locks of her platinum blonde hair. She carried herself with authority as she instructed her partner. The partner ran into position, standing at the front door with her weapon at the ready. The lead cop did as she said she would, which was circle around the side of the church opposite of Octavia. The lead cop signalled to her partner, who kicked in the front door and slipped into the church.
“Freeze! Manehattan PD, put your hands in the air!”
Octavia grabbed her gas can and hurried away from the church, making it to the street before the bullets began to fly. She dropped behind the cop cruiser to observe for a moment. The lead cop hurried from behind the building to aid her partner, allowing Octavia to glimpse more of her face.
The entire right side of her face was scarred, horribly. Octavia wasn’t sure what could have possibly maimed her like that, but it made her own scars look like a bad rash. Octavia didn’t spend any more time than necessary watching the cops act, instead running as quickly as she could to her car. She pulled off and gunned it home, part of her dreading the upcoming conversation with Limestone Pie.
The other part of her, however, was sighing in relief that she had somehow dodged this particular bullet.
Octavia stood on the corner, smoking her cigarette in wait. She glanced at her watch, confirming that the time was 3:30, which meant Vinyl would be making her way along any minute now. She hoped that Vinyl had something she could use, or else she’d be going to Limestone empty handed and with no information. If that was the case, she wasn’t sure that she’d be leaving Limestone’s office by her own volition. She’d be dragged out in a rug.
She watched Vinyl approach, the Doctor by her side. As they neared, he handed Vinyl a cigarette, which she appreciatively puffed on. Octavia said nothing when the two were upon her, deciding to save the conversation for when they were away from the open ears of the Manehattan streets. She gestured to her car, slipping into the driver’s seat while Vinyl took the passenger side. The Doctor took the back seat for himself, and Octavia took off for home.
“So, how was your stay?” asked Octavia. “Learn anything useful?”
“Something like that. Had to put in some work for it though,” said Vinyl with a tiny grimace. “You got any gum?”
“Eugh. Sorry, love, you’ll have to tough it out for now. Now, what did you find?”
“Well, I was only there for the night. Didn’t have a whole lot of time to talk to people, but I heard talk about a new department. Something called the HCU. The High Crime Unit. I don’t know everything about what they do, but they make the regular cops look like the Boy Scouts. Military weapons, new cars, and, on top of that, they can do things cops normally can’t.”
“Like what?” asked the Doctor.
“From what I can tell, they can walk up to a house, kick in the front door, and turn the place over,” said Vinyl. “No warrant, no probable cause, nothing.”
“So we’ve got a bunch of cops with big guns and no bothers to give about the typical law,” sighed Octavia. “I think I ran into a few last night. Fuck me, this isn’t good.” The main advantage that the Pie family had over the police was that the Pie family didn’t care about the rules. The Pies could do anything they wanted to reach their goals, while the cops had lines they couldn’t cross. Now, those lines were starting to disappear. “Who’s in charge?”
“The whole operation is run by one lady. Sylvia Crystal. She’s got it out for you guys, like you fucked her personally.”
“Well, it’s very possible,” said the Doctor. “We do make a living off of ruining people’s lives.”
“Just a right ray of sunshine, that one… What do you know about Crystal?” asked Octavia.
“Nothing. The guy I was… interrogating… Well, he wasn’t at the top of the ladder or anything,” said Vinyl. “He just knew some people who were involved in shipments and reassignment and shit.”
“You couldn’t have found out any more?”
Vinyl glowered at Octavia. Why did she have to be such a hard-ass about everything? Vinyl had tried her best, sacrificed her own personal wishes, and Octavia was sounding a bit ungrateful. It really started to get under Vinyl’s skin.
“Look, I got what I could. I was only there for the night, and I only found one guard interested in buying what I was selling,” said Vinyl sharply. “So how about you cut me some slack?”
“I’m sure you could’ve been more persuasive if you wanted. If he wasn’t giving you what you wanted for what you were selling, perhaps you should’ve offered him the top-shelf merchandise,” suggested Octavia. She glanced at Vinyl, taking note of her scowl. “Oh, come now. It’s not like you wouldn’t do it if money was involved.”
“He didn’t have a rubber,” said Vinyl through gritted teeth. “And I’m not taking some pig bareback just so you know what color panties his boss wears. So perhaps you should go shove it up your ass.”
“I suggest you mind your tone, Scratch. Remember your situation. I saved your life once, and I can’t guarantee that I can do it again.” Octavia gave Vinyl a stern glare. “Don’t make it so I won’t care to try.”
“Easy, ladies, easy,” said Doctor. “Why don’t we just calm down? I don’t know about you, but I’m famished. How about lunch? The three of us, we can grab a bite, start planning, relax. My treat.”
“Rain check, Doctor, I’ve got an appointment.” Octavia spared a glance at the fuming, seething woman beside her. “Matter of fact, we’ve got an appointment, Scratch, and I hope you know how you’re going to break this disappointing news. For your sake.”
“Can I ask where you’ve got your appointment?” asked the Doctor.
“You can ask if you like, but you won’t get an answer.”
“You know, Mel, I don’t like being lied to like this. I’ve been loyal to you for a long time now. If you can’t trust me, who can you trust?”
Octavia sighed, turning down the street that would eventually lead them to the Doctor’s home. She considered bringing her friend into the know, but beat the idea to death at once. Maud had directly ordered her not to, and Octavia wasn’t about to disobey Maud Pie. Besides, the less the Doctor knew, the better.
“I’m not lying to you, Doctor. I’m just not telling you what you want to know, and I do this for your benefit,” said Octavia. She flicked her cigarette out of the window, exhaling a puff of smoke. “And as for your second question… Well, I don’t much trust anyone these days.”
That was all that was said between the two for the time being. The car was silent for the duration of the drive to the Doctor’s house. When he had exited, giving his farewells as he left, Octavia took off to see the Boss.
Octavia sighed. She really needed Limestone to be in a good mood today.
For the first time since coming under Limestone’s employ, Octavia was able to walk into the factory without fear for her life. She and Vinyl made their way past the machinery and to the foreman’s office with no incident. The door to Limestone’s office was opened, so the two cautiously strode in.
“Yeah, of course I've got the money.” Limestone glanced at her employees, but said nothing to them for the moment. She was too enamored in her phone call. “You calling me a liar? Yeah, didn't think so. When do you wanna make this happen? I can go whenever. Yeah, yeah, fine. Eleven. I'm sending one of mine. I expect only one of yours. If she sees two, they get a bullet in the head. Hm. Tonight it is, then.” Limestone hung up the phone, finally able to devote attention to Vinyl and Octavia. “I've had a damn good day so far, you two better not ruin it. Melody, did you burn the church?”
“Unfortunately not, ma'am,” said Octavia, a bit thrown off by Limestone’s calm behavior. “I would have, but the police ran a raid on the place. I barely escaped captivity.”
“Hm. Burning down the church was a stupid fucking idea, anyway. I just wanted those damned Apples off of my streets.”
“They were arrested, ma'am. And, from what I can tell, they'll be gone for some time. I don't know if they'll be bothering us anytime soon.”
“Hm. And the slut? She get anything good?” asked Limestone. Vinyl cautiously nodded, then relayed the HCU information to the boss. Limestone kept uncharacteristically calm throughout the whole thing. “Alright, well, your next job is to clip this Crystal bitch, Melody. I want her dead, and I want her body delivered to the police station in pieces. But, in the meantime, you’re going to do a hand-off.”
“What sort of hand-off?” asked Octavia.
“Mind your fucking business, is what sort of hand-off. I don’t pay you to ask me questions, Melody.” Octavia winced at her mistake. In Limestone’s temporarily calmed state, Octavia had mistaken her for her sister. “I said jump! You say?”
“How high, ma’am.”
“Good. Now, onto the whore…” Limestone swivelled to face Vinyl, staring at her silently for several moments. In that short time, she just about reduced Vinyl to a quivering, trembling mess. “No hard feelings about last time, right?”
“N-no. None at all,” said Vinyl. “Water under the bridge!”
“Good, good. You’re making up for snitching on me, so I won’t kill you. Yet. What I am gonna do, though, is cut your pay clean in half.” Vinyl gulped audibly, but couldn’t even consider arguing. “You fucked up, and these are the consequences. You step out of line again, and I’ll use your spine for a coat rack!”
“Y-yes, ma’am. Of course. Won’t step out of line ever again. I promise,” vowed Vinyl, crossing her heart.
“Good, cause I like you, Scratch. I’d hate to have to pick your brains out of the bottom of my shoes.” Limestone chuckled at the idea, which caused Vinyl to shudder. “Plus, I don’t want that Deepy bitch taking your place. I like the way you run your girls. So, for now… You get half-wages. And whatever else I decide is punishment for you, for opening your stupid whore mouth.”
“Yes, Miss Pie. Sorry.”
“Heh. You will be. Melody, your job is to deliver a briefcase to my guy at the warehouses. He’s gonna give you a truck, and you drive that here, and unload it. Got it?”
“Good. Now get out of here. We’ve all got shit to do, so let’s do it.”
Octavia yawned as she approached her apartment, absolutely exhausted. She hadn’t slept in over two days, with work getting in the way in ways Octavia formerly thought impossible. But, now that she had done the hand-off for Limestone and Vinyl was out of her hair, she was able to head home for a good night’s sleep.
Octavia’s eyes grew wide as she parked outside of her apartment, a scowl creeping to her lips. To her massive annoyance, there was someone waiting for her that would no doubt interfere with her plans for sleep.
“What the hell are you doing here?” demanded Octavia, stepping out of her car. She pulled her coat back a bit to show her Broomhandle pistol threateningly. “I’m in no mood, Scratch.” Vinyl didn’t immediately respond, which added a layer of concern and intrigue to Octavia’s general annoyance.
“I got evicted,” said Vinyl after a moment of dead silence. “After you dropped me off, my landlord kicked me out.”
“Bullshit. You get 30 days minimum.”
“Not if Limestone Pie was the one to make it happen. This is the punishment she was talking about. She threatened to kill the guy’s family if he let me back in.” It got quiet for a spell as Vinyl tried to get her words together. “And she had me blackballed. None of my girls will even consider letting me stay.”
“What does this have to do with me?” asked Octavia, eyebrow raised.
“You’re the only person left I can depend on. Would you mind letting me crash here?”
Octavia knew that the question was coming, and she had her response ready. A simple, firm, unwavering “no” should’ve sent Vinyl on her merry way. Octavia made things very clear; her home wasn’t a hotel or a bed-and-breakfast. But, for some reason, Octavia struggled to get the words out. She pitied Vinyl. She didn’t deserve this, not for what she had done. All Vinyl was guilty of was panic and, while that trait wasn’t allowed in Octavia or any other member of the Pie family proper, Vinyl wasn’t a made man. She was just a street walker who was afraid of what this big, brutish wiseguy might do to her. Octavia couldn’t fault her for putting herself in such an unsavory position.
“I expect rent,” said Octavia.
“Done. I’ll work my ass off,” promised Vinyl.
“Keep the place neat. You don’t conduct your business in my home. And I don’t want to see one of your hooker friends taking shelter when she owes her pimp money.”
“I do laundry, I work in clients’ cars and motels, and fuck those girls,” huffed Vinyl. “They turned their backs on me, so they better have a safe house ready for when Daddy comes to collect.”
“Well, then. I guess that makes us flatmates.” Octavia grabbed her keys from her pocket and headed for the door. “Care for a cuppa?”
