Los Muertos

The pipe coughs Kay and Taled into a hidden grate above a buried black market. Below, neon strips smear across wet concrete, stalls packed tight under the city's bones. Yma crouches at a portable deck, fingers flying at a sealed exit lock.

A narrow service platform runs beside the grate. At the far end, a lean stranger in a hooded raincoat kneels by a tool bag, checking the lock panel with practiced hands.

Yma jerks a glance at the stranger, then back to the deck. The lock flickers once, complaining, while the crowd below keeps moving through the market's stolen glow.

The stranger snaps the tool bag shut and rises halfway, watching Kay and the others with wary curiosity, ready to help or bolt if the wrong trouble arrives.

Kay hauls the first vest from the stash and snaps it open with one rough pull, the plates clacking softly in the hum of the market below.

Taled catches the second vest, turns it once, then shrugs into it without slowing his scan of the platform.

Kay tosses two balaclavas across the gap, and Yma snatches one from the air without looking up from the lock.

The stranger steps back as the last vest gets handed off, eyes flicking to the market floor where a pair of local enforcers in dark coats start looking up toward the glow from the grate.

Kay and Taled are geared and ready, Yma is finally at his shoulder, and the hidden market shifts its attention toward the newcomers.

Kay tips the bundle of seized sidearms onto the counter edge, metal catching the market glow as he makes the offer without ceremony.

The stranger weighs the lot with quick hands, then slides a cred chip across to Kay and Taled. The deal lands fast, quiet, final.

Below the overlook, one of the local enforcers pauses under the rail, staring up harder now as the exchange finishes.

The stranger's eyes cut toward the floor, then back to Kay, while the enforcers start edging closer through the crowd.

Taled cuts in front of Kay and stomps toward the rail, palm cracking into his fist like a starter pistol.

The nearest enforcer looks up late, and Taled slams into him before the crowd can part.

The hit drives the man back into the railing with a metallic clang. A cup spills. Someone yelps.

Kay moves in with him, but the packed platform forces shoulder-to-shoulder chaos, and one sharp elbow catches his ribs.

The Stranger snaps the tool bag shut, eyes wide now, while Yma looks up from the lock with a curse stuck in her throat.

Below the rail, the second enforcer starts climbing fast, hand going for his sidearm as the market noise turns brittle.

Kay snaps the MAC-10 up and empties a tight burst down the stairwell. The second enforcer jerks hard, weapon clattering against the steps as his climb breaks apart.

He tumbles sideways into the handrail, boots scraping metal, and the crowd below throws itself flat from the spray of sparks and splintering plaster.

Taled keeps the first man pinned with a brutal shove, but his head flicks toward Kay for a split second, checking the line behind them.

The platform surges in panic as the enforcer on the stairs loses his grip and slides back down, leaving the access path broken and the market fully exposed.

Kay closes on the stair edge in one hard step, pins the enforcer's weapon wrist, and wrenches. Fingers crack under his grip. The .357 flips free into Kay's hand.

The enforcer's shout cuts off as Kay drives him backward with a boot to the chest. He sails off the platform and crashes out of frame below the rail.

The recoil punches up Kay's arm, and the new revolver feels heavy and warm in his palm. A fresh sting blooms along his forearm where the slipping gun bites him.

Taled breaks his hold on the first enforcer and turns, scanning the exposed market while the crowd stays flattened behind cover. The open lock yawns behind Yma, and the sector's local eyes are on them.