Diggs Malone's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

The raccoon jumped off Diggs's shoulder and vanished under a table. The room went back to its drinks. Diggs sat at the bar and stared at his hands. He had a match at dawn and no idea who he'd face. He knew one thing. The Baron liked a show. If the crowd didn't cheer for Diggs, the Baron had no reason to keep him alive. A dead unknown fed the dogs just fine. A heavy boot scraped behind him. A big man dropped onto the next stool. He was tall and thick, with a black beard and tattoos crawling down both arms. Spiked leather gloves covered his knuckles. He set a scarred fist on the bar and grinned. "Name's Rex," he said. "Used to fight these pits. Now I train the ones smart enough to listen." He nodded at Diggs's machete. "You've got clean hands. That's a problem. The Baron's fighters don't fight clean." A short blond woman leaned against the bar beside him. She was muscular, with a nose ring and leather gloves like his. She looked Diggs over and smirked. "He's got no scars," she said. "Fresh meat." Rex jabbed a thumb at her. "Candice Knox. Best trainer in the desert. She'll turn your bones into rock." Behind them stood a scrawny dog-man in a fedora and eye patch. He flipped through a worn notebook. "His name's Howler," Rex said. "He books fights and reads the Baron. And the Baron," Howler cut in, tail twitching, "already picked your opponent. A brute who bites throats. The Baron wants a bloody opener." Diggs kept his voice flat. "Then I lose no matter how well I fight." "Unless the Baron favors you," Rex said. "He backs winners. He backs faces the crowd loves. Right now you're a stranger with a knife. We change that before dawn." He leaned close. "Fifty-fifty. My crew, your blade. We split every purse. You fight my way, you live long enough to spend it." Diggs thought about the dogs. He thought about walking into that ring alone. He put out his hand. "Deal." Rex crushed it in his glove. Candice pushed off the bar. "Up," she said. "We've got hours. Show me how you swing." She led him to the open floor and threw a wooden stick at his chest. Diggs caught it. She circled him, sharp and fast, and knocked his elbow up. "Too slow. The Baron's man will open you like a can." They drilled until his arms shook. Howler slipped out and came back grinning. "Talked to the Baron's booker," he said. "Word's spreading. The man who tamed the raccoon has a real crew now. The crowd's curious." He tipped his hat. "That curiosity keeps you off the dog plate. For one match." Diggs wiped sweat from his eyes. He had a coach, a trainer, and a name people were starting to say. But the throat-biter still waited at dawn.