Foxy Valentine's Arc

Chapter 6 of 9

Foxy hadn't slept. She'd chased every lead in Funkytown for a full day. Nobody would say where Bad Mamma Jamma took Pinky. Then she remembered the man who caught the disco ball. Jenkins. He drank cheap gin every night at the same bar. So Foxy waited in the shadow of the doorway until he stumbled out. She grabbed his collar and shoved him against the wall. "Where's Pinky?" His eyes went wide. He was drunk enough to be honest. "The old warehouse," he slurred. "The one the boss bought. Off the docks. But you don't wanna go there, disco queen. They got her over a tank." He hiccuped. "With a croc in it." Foxy let him drop. Her stomach twisted. She ran. The warehouse door stood cracked open. Inside, a single light hung over a metal tank. And above the tank, chained by her wrists, dangled Pinky. Her pink jumpsuit was torn. She kicked at the air, twisting on the chain. Below her, dark water rippled. Something long and scaled slid beneath the surface. "Foxy!" Pinky screamed. "It's a trap! Go!" Too late. Bad Mamma Jamma stepped from the dark. His purple suit gleamed. He tapped his gold cane on the concrete and smiled like he'd already won. "I told you to stay out of my business." He nodded upward. "And here you are. Anyway." A woman dropped from the rafters beside him. Black leather, a long braid, a mask over her eyes. Foxy knew her. This was the outlaw who'd stolen the disco ball. Lady Supa Bad. She held the crank that lowered Pinky's chain. "Give me one reason," Lady Supa Bad said, "and I drop her." Foxy raised both hands. "Wait. You want me gone? Fine. Trade. Me for her." Bad Mamma Jamma laughed. "You think I want you? No. I want you to watch." He waved his cane at Lady Supa Bad. "Turn the crank." The chain slipped. Pinky dropped a foot. She shrieked. The crocodile surged, jaws snapping at her boots. Foxy didn't think. She snatched a wrench off a workbench and hurled it at the light. Glass exploded. The warehouse went black. In the dark, Foxy charged the crank. She slammed into Lady Supa Bad and they crashed together onto the floor. Foxy hauled the crank the other way, hand over hand, until Pinky swung back over solid ground. Someone found a switch. Light flooded back. Foxy stood over Pinky, unhooking the chains, her chest heaving. Bad Mamma Jamma was gone. Lady Supa Bad was gone with him. Pinky threw her arms around Foxy and sobbed. "You came." "Always," Foxy said. Then Pinky pulled back. Her face changed. "Foxy. The disco ball. They took it out the back. I heard him. He's putting it in his new club tonight. He's opening the warehouse he bought. Your warehouse." Foxy stared at the empty dark where he'd stood. She had Pinky. But the heart of her dream was hanging in his ceiling now.