The fight was about as brutal as I thought it would be. We came there expecting some backyard fighting match, but the Spikes had turned it into a free for all-carnival and a lot of money was changing hands.
Blaster and Rivet actually won. Not easily, but they did and I doubt that their two opponents will do much fighting in the near future, or at all, depending on the skill of the shaman who was called in for help. I don’t think it was a good idea to take the Spikes’ cuts, though, that was asking for trouble. We left as soon and as gracefully as possible.
Rivet’s been badly hurt and just about managed to hold himself up until we were a fair distance from the Spikes’ turf. He’s in a coma and will be for a few more days. I cannot say whether there will be any lasting damage, from the head wound in particular, only time will tell.
So that was last night. Oh, I’m also now the owner of Rivet’s winnings he got from betting on himself. I guess the clinic will get some new equipment, not to mention Kerry will get a new weapon. Which is something pretty much everybody will appreciate, since she won’t shut up about not having one.
I’ve been leaving Whistler alone for the last few days, but I ad to decide what to do with Maggie and I needed to know what exactly happened when he was captured by the Picas. That was not a conversation I was looking forward to. He told me that Maggie had beaten and tortured him. Beaten, yes. Tortured, as he told it: no. I’ve seen his injuries and no-one did anything like that to him. He wouldn’t talk to me any further and I didn’t want to accuse him of lying just yet, so I went to talk to Maggie.
I’m sorry to say that her version of the events scanned much better with the facts. I probably wouldn’t be much more thankful than Whistler, but she did save his life. She says he already had a gun to his head when she got the Picas to keep him alive, to try and get information from him and of course for banter. She also says that he dissed her in front of the gang and that she beat him with a baseball bat for that. After this, he talked. I can’t say I blame him. Whistler blames himself plenty, though. He finally told me the truth when I confronted him again. He needs to come to terms with that by himself, I cannot help him with that. I can just say that I don’t give a fuck what he told the Picas and that I’m glad he came out of this alive.
Rusty, the Scrapper who guarded Maggie’s container came by to tell me that he was up for another shift and I told him that Growler and I had decided to let Maggie run free if she wants to. He seemed on the verge of saying something and I was already tired of having to drag the truth out of people. When he refused to tell me what had happened, I slammed him into the wall. Not my proudest moment. Rusty did tell me that some of the Scrappers had taken revenge on Maggie for the whole Pica fiasco and that he stopped them. So yeah, I just roughed up the only halfway decent guy who actually did see something wrong with what happened. Go me. I’m sick to death of this whole place. I can’t believe I actually had so much naivety left to believe that she would be left alone.
I need to sleep, I haven’t had more than two hours at a time for days. The Rat’s Nest can go fuck itself for now.