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Disoriented, Val saw that it was still dark. Had she missed the movie? Had she been asleep for only a moment?
"What time is it?" she demanded from a couple trying to flag down a cab.
The woman looked at her watch nervously, as though Val was going to snatch it off her wrist. "Almost three."
"Thanks," Val muttered. Although she'd gotten less than four hours of sleep sitting on a toilet, now that she was walking again, she found that she felt far better. The dizziness was almost gone and the smell of Asian food from an all-night restaurant a few blocks away made her stomach rumble in hunger.
She started walking in the direction of the smell.
A black SUV with tinted windows pulled up next to her, windows down. Two guys were sitting in the front seats.
"Hey," the guy on the passenger side said. "You know where the Bulgarian disco is? I thought it was off Canal, but now we're all turned around."
He had blond streaks in his carefully gelled hair.
Val shook her head. "It's probably closed by now anyway."
The driver leaned over. He was dark-haired and dark-skinned, with large, liquid eyes. "We're just looking to party. You like to party?"
"No," Val said. "I'm just going to get some food." She pointed toward the mock-Japanese exterior of the restaurant, glad it wasn't that far off, but painfully aware of the deserted streets between her and it.
"I could go for some fried rice," said the blond. The SUV rolled forward, keeping up with her as she walked. "Come on, we're just regular guys. We're not freaks or anything."
"Look," Val said. "I don't want to party, okay? Just let me alone."
"Okay, okay." The blond looked at his friend, who shrugged. "Can we at least give you a ride? It's not safe for you to be out here walking around on your own."
"Thanks, but I'm okay." Val wondered if she could outrun them, wondered if she should just take off and get a head start. But she kept walking, as if she weren't scared, as if they were only two nice, concerned guys trying to talk her into their truck.
She had comfrey in her shoe and madwort in her pocket and a plastic hand under the back of her shirt, but she wasn't sure how any of those things could help her.
The doors click unlocked as the truck rolled to a stop and she made a decision. Turning toward the open window, she smiled and said, "What makes you think I'm not one of the dangerous people?"
"I'm sure you're dangerous," said the driver, all smiles and insinuation.
"What if I told you that I just cut off some chick's hand?" Val said.
"What?" The blond guy looked at her in confusion.
"No, really. See?" Val pitched the mannequin hand through the window. It landed in the driver's lap.
The truck swerved and the blond yelped.
Val took off across the street, sprinting toward the restaurant.
"Fucking freak," the blond shouted as they pulled away from the curb, tires squealing.
Val's heart was beating double time as she walked into the safe heat of Dojo. Sitting down at a table with a sigh of relief, she ordered a huge bowl of steaming miso soup, cold sesame noodles dripping with peanut glaze, and ginger fried chicken that she ate with her fingers. When she was done, she thought she would fall asleep again, right at the table.
But she had one more delivery to do.
The street looked mostly unused and the sides of it were strewn with trash—broken glass, dried condoms, a ripped pair of pantyhose. Still, the smell of dew on the pavement, on the rust of the fence and the sparse grass, along with the empty streets made Williamsburg seem far away from Manhattan.
She ducked under a chain-link fence. The lot was empty, but she could see a ditch between the cracked concrete and the small hills. She stepped into it, using it like a path to walk out to where black rocks marked the space between the beach and the river.
Something was there. At first Val thought it was a lump of drying seaweed, a stray plastic bag, but as she got closer she realized it was a woman with green hair, lying facedown on the rocks, half in and half out of the water. Rushing over, Val saw the flies buzzing around the woman's torso and her tail drifting with the current, scales catching the streetlights to shine like silver.
It was the corpse of a mermaid.
