There were no cars on the road at this time of night, no other soul, but even if there had been Acid wouldn’t have noticed. Every cell in her body was homed in on the woman in front of her. Magpie Stiletto. Sister Death. The penultimate name on her kill list. The moon was high in the sky, painting the scene with an eerie glow as she hurried down the path towards the rocks and sand. Someone was going to die tonight.
Once on the beach Acid halted, casting her eyes across the dusky terrain. Jagged rocks ten foot high in places stuck out from the sand whilst, in between, large pools of tepid seawater had formed. Kelp and seaweed plants stretched their slippery limbs out of the rock pools and across the sand. But no sign of Magpie.
“Come out,” Acid yelled, at a tall group of rocks that had formed together like the bastard cousins of Stonehenge. “I know you’re here. It’s over.”
There was no reply, but she wasn’t expecting one and it didn’t matter. Her senses were all screaming in unison. Magpie was here. Moving slow and shifting into her peripheral vision in case of any surprise attack, Acid reached down and selected one of the rocks at her feet – small enough to hold with some purchase, but weighty enough to do some real damage with the right swing behind it.
Her stomach tight and her muscles burning with exertion and bile, she circled around the side of the large rock formation.
Step careful, the bats told her. Be ready.
Be ready…
Shit!
Something struck her upper chest, knocking her clean off her feet. A thick clump of seaweed on the flat rock beneath her broke some of the fall, but she was winded and worried for a second that she’d cracked a rib or even punctured a lung.
“Ramera repugnante.”
Acid scrambled to her feet as Magpie swung the heavy piece of driftwood at her again, this time catching her on the side of the head with a heavy blow. The momentum sent her stumbling forward but she remained upright, turning around and launching herself at her ex-colleague with a guttural roar.
“You piece of shit.”
She caught her with a sharp shoulder to the sternum and pushed her back against the rocks, following up with a right hook that split Magpie’s lip and sent tiny electric shocks shooting up her forearm. The two of them staggered apart, gasping for breath but not taking their eyes off each other.
“He never loved you,” Magpie hissed. “It was all an act. To keep you compliant.”
“Seriously?” Acid wiped the blood from her eyes, hers or Delgado’s she wasn’t sure. “This is about Spitfire?”
“It’s about you. Ruining everything. Like always.” In the moonlight Acid noticed her usual cold, dead eyes were alight with rage. “You thought you were invincible. But look at you. Without the organisation behind you, you’re a mess. Worse than a mess. Caesar made the right call.”
Acid’s fists were so tight her knuckles ached. “Not worked out too well for him though, has it?”
“You thought he cared about you too, didn’t you?” Magpie went on, spittle flying from her bust mouth. “But you were nothing to him but a pay check. You brought him power, money, esteem. That’s all it was. You thought you had a family at Annihilation. You didn’t. They all hated you. Like I hate you.”
“Yeah, well, feeling’s mutual, toots.”
Fizzing with manic energy, Acid threw another heavy fist her way. But this time Magpie anticipated the blow and parried it well before countering it with a searing chisel punch to the throat.
The two women glared at each other, both fighting for air, waiting for the other to make a move, to make a mistake. In the distance the waves crashed against the shore.
“I’m going to kill you,” Acid spat. “You hear me?”
“So you keep saying,” Magpie sneered, exposing two rows of bloody pink teeth. “But I think not. You’re washed up. Nothing but a pathetic, wanton nobody.”
Magpie leapt for her, the moonlight glinting off the steel of a stubby push dagger as she slashed wildly at Acid’s neck.
But she was ready.
More than ready.
Stepping to one side, she let Magpie lurch past her before grabbing her around the back of the neck and using her own momentum to propel them both forward. With a loud splash they tumbled into an enormous rock pool filled with sinewy black seaweed. Acid held on tight, grabbing the wrist that held the push dagger and trying to work it free as they squirmed in the seawater. They thrashed around, both fighting desperately for the upper hand, dunking each other under and gulping down mouthfuls of salty water before gasping for air as they surfaced. As Magpie rolled under, Acid reached out blindly and grabbed hold of her hair. She yanked her old rival’s head back whilst simultaneously forcing her arm still holding the push dagger against the elbow joint. She gritted her teeth. Held on. Pulled back for all she was worth. Then, using an old trick she’d learnt from Caesar, she slackened her grip on Magpie’s wrist. Only slightly. Only for a split-second. But enough to make her think she’d given up. To lull her momentarily. Then, without warning, Acid forced her arm back with as much vigour and rage as she could muster. Even with Magpie’s head underwater, she heard the scream as the arm snapped at the elbow and she dropped the dagger. At the same time, Acid shoved her away and burst out of the water in a rush of briny spray. With the bats singing a song of bloodthirsty encouragement, she leapt at her old adversary and grabbed her around the neck with both hands. With legs spread either side of Magpie’s flailing body she pushed her head under the water, down as far she could go.
“Die, bitch.”
Amongst the foam and swirling seaweed she could see the assassin’s cruel face leering up at her, those black shark
