Crack in the Kill Code (AmpCore #2)

22 - Flesh Market

Unlike some of the ports along this stretch of Hadrian, the Perrier Dockworks still pounded with life. On the eastern side of the bridge to Hadrian South, the great maw of its port formed an arc almost a kilometre across, with shores jammed tight with loading cranes, vast warehouses and massive armoured piers. Fuel silos loomed against the skyline, the stink of burning petroleum blanketing the entire stretch.

Colossal cargo haulers lumbered in and out of its embrace. From low, flat garbage scows carrying mountains of Hadrian's detritus, to towering, multi-decked monsters bathed in corporate logos, Perrier never stopped. Not even the murder and mayhem of the past few months could do that.

Kirk watched the packed, seething mass of life whip past through the tinted window of Doser's police cruiser – a battered black car that smelled cigarettes and greasy fast food. They hummed past huge clumps of barrel-shaped worker towers, these ones with thick brassy exteriors hardened against corrosion. The dark walls were punctuated with rolling corporate ad-holos and neon shopfront that seemed to jut out almost at random.

"Are we there yet?" Nevay drawled from up front in the passenger seat.

Doser cast her a weary glance. "Almost. What, you need a piss break?"

"You drive like a fucking grandma."

Kirk gave the back of her seat a kick. "Ease off, would you?"

She scowled and folded her arms, but kept her mouth shut as Doser guided the car around the next bend, into a canyon between two housing blocks. He let his eyes linger on her for a moment. He knew, deep down, that right now her abrasive manner was just a response to what they'd found at his home.

While he didn't know for certain that they were looking for a lurker, even the possibility made Kirk's stomach knot. A crazy, experimental assassin on the loose out here was enough to put ice up anybody's spine. Nevay Jennings was tough, but she was used to fighting human beings. He didn't need to be a psychologist to see that the very idea of the creature scared the hell out of her.

The cruiser slid neatly to a halt outside one of the residential barrels, its entrance flanked by a low, grungy looking bar on one side, and a sparking tech store on the other. The doors slide aside with a hint and Kirk swung himself out into the street, rolling his neck from side to side and stretching his legs. He felt the lump of the pistol holstered in the back of his belt.

Doser and Nevay emerged to join him, edging through the flow of people scurrying back and forth down the pavement. Doser's visor shimmered over his eyes for a couple of seconds, then disappeared.

"This should be the place," he grunted, looking the block up and down.

Kirk followed his gaze, his nose wrinkling. The barrel rose five stories, its walls studded with exterior, open cage elevators.

"Nice digs," Nevay murmured, thumb and forefinger tapping against the pommel of her knife uneasily. "So this thing really snatched someone in the middle of all this?"

"That's what we're here to figure," Doser murmured. "Apparently her old man's neck deep with some of Perrier's nastiest sharkers, so the missing persons shout just got tossed on the junk heap. Far as the local cops are concerned, she's collateral damage."

"But no ransom demands, no contact." Nevay shook her head. "If I'm trying to get my debts paid back, I make sure everybody knows."

He nodded. "With everythin' going on right now, guess they couldn't be bothered to take a closer look."

"Then we'll have to," Kirk said, nodding to the door. "Shall we?"

"Let me do the talking," Doser replied as he trudged up to the entrance, passing his police ID over the locking sensor.