Once Giants: The Neon Amazon

Chapter 2

Tina clutched her side as she stumbled out of the favela and onto the neon-lit streets of São Paulo. Blood covered the entire left side of her skintight jumpsuit from the ribs down, and seeped from the gunshot wound Raul had managed to land. At least, she assumed it was him who had fired. Thankfully, a heavy rain now fell from the night sky and had already washed the excess blood from the places the dark blue material of the jumpsuit couldn't hide.

She leaned against a palm tree and vomited what felt like a gallon of blood. Her head spun. Her body was eating itself alive, trying to treat wounds she knew it couldn't heal. She needed the injection now more than ever. Empty-handed or not, she needed to face Marcos.

Tina spotted a line of rickshaws at the far end of the street and headed toward them, pushing through the rain. At least she'd managed to survive the attack from the two assassins Raul had hired to take her out.

Yeah, right. The idea felt ridiculous even as she thought it. Raul wouldn't have gone through that kind of trouble just for her. She had no clue who those two men were, or what type of military or paramilitary outfit they were connected with. They'd sounded American; what were men like that doing in São Paulo? And talking to a scumbag like Raul, no less. More importantly, why the hell did she have to go and kill them?

Who knew what kind of heat this would bring down on her, now. Or the entire city for that matter.

But all of that was secondary for the moment. She needed her treatment, and badly.

Tina stumbled toward the rickshaws and hefted herself into the first one she reached. The wooden frame creaked loudly and nearly flipped backward as she tumbled inside. A shout rang out, and she heard quick footfalls splashing through the rain.

A young, bronze-skinned boy poked his head into the carriage with a look of dismay. "Are you serious? I can't pull you!"

"Yeah, that big-ass, horse of a bitch should be the one pulling!" a boy's voice shouted from outside, and a crowd of kids she couldn't see laughed in response.

Tina reached into an inner pocket of her jumpsuit and withdrew a roll of reais, tossing them into the boy's face. "Take me into the city," she said. "And go get as many of your stupid little friends as you need to pull me."

***

Tina was barely clinging to consciousness by the time the four exhausted little slum boys ferried her across town and into the red light district of Baixo Augusta. Marcos was already waiting for her outside his club, or perhaps she had passed out and one of the boys had run in to fetch him. He was looking down at her from the side of the rickshaw. His bald head shone with the blue holographic signage of his establishment: The Crazy Horse. His thin, salt-and-pepper mustache twitched, but he didn't say anything.

That meant he was angry. Very angry. Had he found out what happened already? It was entirely possible. News traveled quickly through the favela and, considering what she'd done, the repercussions couldn't be good.

"Bring her inside," he said eventually, and motioned to two goons wearing ugly brown suits behind him. "Get these favela rats to help."

Marcos didn't seem to want to talk, and that was fine with her.

Tina assisted as much as she could as the two men and four boys helped her out of the rickshaw and into the cool, air-conditioned confines of the strip club. The pounding bass and flashing holograms did nothing to ease the ringing in her head. The girls on stage stopped their routine to gawk at her. One of them even had the nerve to laugh. The little bitch. The rest of the patrons gave them an extra wide berth as they made their way through and into the back.