The smell of alcohol and cheap tobacco filled the air with the same heavy feel of a blanket upon a bed. The smoke hung mid-way, hovering like a living entity within the air from which some dark creature was laying in wait to jump out and snatch up an unsuspecting victim to fill the ache and hunger that waited within its belly. The usual mix of street going people, from bikers to travelers to wanderers. People met here, swapped stories, met families, bought and sold everything from flowers to weapons, from drugs to love. Here there were no questions asked; except how much. It was that time of the year again, the RV circuit was rolling through town, which also meant the runners were scouting about to see if anyone was in the market for weapons and various other illegal goodies. Nova stood outside, her back against the wall as the overhanging light buzzed and flicked on-and-off like a firefly in its throws of death. One foot against the wall as she stood, arms across, the darkness of that leather jacket obscuring intimate detail, rendering her a shadowed figure of little consequence. She looked like some scrawny male youth , the cigarette that hung from her bottom lip, the ash almost an inch long , thick ribbon of smoke slowly wafted up like a ghost snake. Upon her head the baseballs cap pulled low down low. Like a rat having learned when the shop-keep would through our the days spoils, Nova waited for what she knew would come soon enough. Eventually the sounds of wheels slowly creeping, rocks popping out from under the pressure of tires that carried a heavy load, the soft purr of the engine all seemed benign, even when the vehicle came to a stop. Nova never moved, holding so still in her vigil that the cigarette ash still hung there like a memory from the butt that stuck out her mouth, its life long spent up in smoke. The crunch of booted feet as they touched down upon the graveled surface caused her to move at last. Fingers came, plucking that butt, flicking it into obscurity. Scrape and slide of her foot down the wall, sandpaper on rubber souls seemed to mock the unspoken truth of the real reason she was there. As her plimpsoled feet slowly tread towards the man it seemed almost like a joke. The man standing just off the driver's side door. Turned and looked at her with a disgusted expression. "C'mon girl, I ain't got all fechin' night, got other people to deal with, and the Barlows got me some good business." The man held a weathered look, dark and beaten by life, hard and warn, dry leather left to bake in the desert sun. Too many fights in bar-room brawls had left his nose crooked and flat. Dark eyes set too close, a brow that sat too heavy, brows far too thick. It was all offset by a covering of dirty, gray hair that hung stringy about a face that hadn't seen a razor in far too long.

The man never saw it coming. Nova walked right up. With a flick, and twist the practiced swipe of her hand left a cut that was no bigger than two inches on the upper, inside portion of his right arm. She was struck at once across the face, knocked to the ground with a heavy back-hand that was all too familiar. It knocked the hat from her head, knocked a tooth from the back of her lower jaw.

" Nova....You fucking Bitch..." The man spat. "...cut me, we'll see about that, think you're gunna cut me and get away with it..?"

Slowly getting to her feet, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth as her lips pulled too thin over teeth painted red with blood.

"I killed you..." she said with the same inflection one might expect to hear in the offering of Happy Birthday. "You have about 90 seconds to ask for MY fergiv'ness." slowly licking the blood from her lips as she watched the man start to bleed.

"Girl, you didn't do anything but...." it was then he took notice of the volume of blood what was pouring from the small gash she had inflicted. "What the fuck..." using his other hand to try and squelch the flow, but he was already feeling strange, his heart, a flushing....a strange heavy feeling.

"You got....'bout 60 seconds. Tha' cut........I ferget wha' it be called, the vein........but y'see, it run right down inside y'arm there........tha' feelin' y'got' It cause there not nuf blood,........be sweatin'....'bout .....now. 40 seconds to ask."

"I ain't askin' you for shit girl, now get over her and....." He fell backwards, hitting the van hard enough that it dented the side before he slowly sank, hitting the ground. " You just gunna stand there and watch me bleed to death..?"

"No, I'ma jus stand'er and watch'ya die....30 seconds."

He never said anything else. She did just as she said she would, stood there and watched the life drain from the man that had given her life, and then calmly turned, picking up the scalpel she had used. She turned and tossed it on his now lifeless body as if her were nothing more than a pile of trash.

" I'll see'ya in hell....Dad."