Chapter 26

Arguing with Karen had proven fruitless for Foggy. He had put Matt on speaker so both of them could hear the update and when the call ended, she had announced that they should go also to back Matt up and to help with Nyah if necessary. Of course, he was completely against the idea. There was no way he was going to let Karen race off into a potentially dangerous situation, but she wouldn't listen to his reasoning. Now, they were racing towards the address Matt had given them, not knowing what they were going to find once they got there.

Matt hurried down the pier keeping between shipping containers while he searched for Nyah. He had barely heard a muffled scream when he first arrived, but no other sounds since. As he went further out over the water, he was alert to temperature changes and smells that might indicate the presence of others. So far, all he could sense was garbage and rodents. They would choose to use the pier that housed the NYC department of sanitation.

Two-thirds of the way out, he caught the distinct smell of burning hair. Pausing to orient himself in the direction it was coming from, he caught the faint metallic sound of metal grating against metal coming from the same direction; a shipping container near the water's edge on the far side of the pier from him. The need for caution warred with the urge to rush to Nyah's aid and he settled for something in between the two.

Going as fast as he dared while staying as aware of his surroundings as possible, he approached the container. Close up, he realized that it was a refrigerated container, which explained why he was having such a hard time sensing anything within it. Pressed up against it, he could now smell blood and ozone as well, and heard a soft moan followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor. It was hard for him to make out through the thick metal and insulation, but he was sure there was only one other person in there with her. As far as he could tell, there was no one else on the pier with them either.

The problem with a shipping container was losing the element of surprise; there was no way for him to get into the container without alerting the person within. The best he could do was wait until the person was at the other end and occupied, and even that was a crap shoot made even worse by the difficulty of sensing heat signatures within.

Matt waited by the door of the container until he was reasonably sure the man (just a guess also) was on the far end kneeling on the floor by his victim, then he eased the lever on the door up until it was positioned to open the door. He could hear the scuffles of shoes on the floor and sounds that indicated someone was straining. With an explosive burst of motion, he wrenched the lever to open the door and charged into the dimly lit interior, immediately darting to the side to avoid any bullets that might be flying his way.

Foggy and Karen arrived at the pier and sat in the car looking uncertainly at the dark pier; only about a third of the lights were working. Suddenly, their plan to help Matt didn't seem as heroic as it had in back at Foggy's apartment. Even Karen, who had been adamant about coming, looked less enthused.

"Are you guys sure this is where you want to be dropped off?" their Uber driver asked.

The question snapped both of them out of the spell. Karen exited the car while he paid the driver, then they watched the car disappear down the street leaving them in the run-down area.

"Ugh! What is that smell?" Karen wrinkled her nose.

Foggy pointed at the sign above the entrance to the pier: NYC Department of Sanitation.

"Fantastic," she frowned. "Of course, that's were we're going, isn't it?"

"Yep, just another glamorous night in Hell's Kitchen."

Without another word of complaint, Karen squared her shoulders and started forward.

"Wait," Foggy stopped her. "Don't we need a plan? How will we find them out there?"

She shrugged, "just listen for the fight, I suppose."

"Makes perfect sense, I guess."

The tableau that greeted Matt inside the container was certainly not what he expected. Instead of the unknown man bending over Nyah doing untold horrors to her, she was on top of him struggling for possession of a knife. Her clothes were torn, and she was barefoot; metal bands around her ankles attached by a length of chain to an upright metal rack. Her hands were free, though. The smell of burnt hair and flesh was strong, and he could tell that one side of her face was charred.

His abrupt entrance startled her, and she looked up from the man under her with her one good eye.

"Matt?" she breathed as if she didn't believe he was there.

The distraction was all the man needed as he wrested the knife from her and plunged it into her side before shoving her off him.

"No!" Matt lunged forward that slammed into him, knocking the knife out of his hand. He stumbled backwards, tripping over the chains connecting Nyah to the rack and fell into the metal structure. Matt jumped after him and slammed his head into the rack. When the guy crumpled, Matt grabbed him to keep him from falling on the injured woman on the floor under them. Behind them, the door of the contain creaked as it opened wider and footsteps sounded. With the extra weight slowing him down, he was unable to spin quickly to face the new threat, so he shoved the man's limp body to the side and let it drop to the floor before turning.

To his relief, Foggy stood in the entrance of the container with Karen behind him peering over his shoulder with wide eyes. Matt's shoulder sagged and he turned to kneel by Nyah. She was struggling to breath, but her eye was open, watching him.

He looked back at the other two who were still frozen in shock, "Call 911," he ordered, then turned back to her.

"Matt, watch out!" Foggy yelled.

A movement behind him was all the warning he had before the inside of the container echoed with two shots, stabbing painfully through his head. Momentary disorientation slowed his reactions as he spun towards the man he had dropped, just in time to hear the gun in his hand drop to the floor with a clatter followed by his body hitting the floor again. Confused, he turned back towards the end of the container. Foggy was staring at Karen with shock and disbelief. She was standing to the side, still holding the gun out in front of her, ready to shoot again, determination written on her face.

Matt turned back to Nyah, trusting Foggy to handle the situation. The numerous wounds on her had not been immediately life-threatening until that final stab. Not able to fully use his hearing yet, Matt felt gently along her ribs until he found the puncture between her second and third ribs. He could feel the sticky warmth of her blood seeping from the wound, but it wasn't an alarming amount. Matt knew, however, that a puncture wound to the lung might not bleed a lot but was still very serious. Frustrated at his impaired hearing, he leaned down over her.

"How's your breathing?"

"Not good," her answer was almost a whisper and strained, but at least he could hear her. The ringing in his ears was starting to dissipate but he still couldn't make out any lung sounds or her heartbeat.

Carefully smoothing the hair out of the unburnt side of her face, he asked, "can you make it until we get an ambulance here?"

Her answer was delayed by a wheezing cough that had her struggling to regain her breath. Matt could feel a fine spray of blood from it on his face.

"Matt?" she grasped his hand and gave it a weak squeeze.

"Shhh," he said, "save your strength."

"No, Matt…I'm not, not…," another fit of coughing interrupted her. When it was over, it took her a moment to speak again.

"My plan…don't waste this…don't let another…. month go by," her voice was getting weaker and it was taking more effort for her to get the words out.

"Gotta save…them…. don't…" her voice tapered off.

He could hear her breathing now and it was bad; probably a collapsed lung from the pressure of blood pooling in her chest cavity.

"An ambulance is on the way; it will be here in about ten minutes." Karen put a comforting hand on his shoulder and knelt beside him. "Just hold on a little longer, Nyah."

But Nyah was beyond hearing now. Her breathing was shallow, her heart was slowing, and she was cool to the touch. If he could see, he knew her skin would be pale, her lips bluish. She wasn't going to last ten more minutes.

He gathered her up into his arms and held her tight as her breathing gurgled to a stop and her heartbeat stuttered then stilled. Even though he knew this wasn't the end for her, tears filled his eyes and rolled down his face. Karen wrapped her arm around his shoulder and wept with him.

In a matter of seconds, her body became insubstantial in his arms, disintegrating into a fine dust that disappeared before it could fall to the floor.

"Um, guys," Foggy's cleared his throat behind them. "I think we need to leave. Now."

"He's right Matt," Karen sniffed and pushed herself up using his shoulder. "We have a dead guy and no victim."

When he didn't immediately respond, she shook his shoulder. "Matt!"

"Go," he told her. "You two go. I'll meet you back at my apartment."

"Are you sure?" she asked, obviously not thrilled to leave him alone.

"Yeah, you don't need to be seen with me like this. I'll be okay," he assured her.

"Let's go," Foggy stepped up behind Karen and took her arm. In the distance, Matt could hear the ambulance.

"The ambulance is coming. Go!" he told her more forcefully.

Matt waited until they left the container and he could hear their steps retreating up the pier, then he tipped the generator over to spill the gas onto the floor. Moving quickly, he moved over to the dead man, found the bullet holes and dug out the slugs with the knife and his fingers. The man had been a smoker, he knew from the smell of his clothes, and it didn't take long to locate his cigarettes and lighter in his shirt pocket. Before leaving the container, Matt lit one of the cigarettes and tossed it back into the container onto the pool of gas on the floor. Once he was sure the gas was burning, he skirted the outside edge of the pier and ran down the waterfront to avoid detection by the ambulance driver.

Before going to his apartment, Matt went back to the women's center. Maroney might be dead, but his partner was still alive. Nyah had been tortured and Matt needed to know why. What information were they looking for?

She would be back in just a few weeks, on the next crescent moon, but his heart still ached like a piece had been torn from it. She had truly insinuated herself into it in the months that he had known her. Even now, when faced with the brutality of the life she was forced to live year after year with no hope of reprieve, he realized that she brought light and hope into his. He just wished he hadn't been such a coward and had told her what she meant to him sooner. What a strange couple they made: he, an instrument created for a war he still didn't understand, and she, an instrument of mercy for those marginalized by society.

Nearing the center, he slowed and approached with caution, sticking to the rooftops. Peering over the edge of the building across the road from the center, he wasn't surprised to see that neither car was parked on the road anymore. He was surprised that the area wasn't swarming with police and crime scene investigators. There was no tape to cordon off the area or any evidence that a crime had been committed there at all. Obviously, they were covering their tracks.

Not wasting anymore time, he rushed across the rooftops of Hell's Kitchen to reach Foggy and Karen at his apartment.