frightening
to these kids. A couple of representatives of the future walked by,
giving him a hard look, which he returned without all the effort
they exuded.
“What are you doing here?” the shirtless one
snarled.
Cynical finished a swig of beer and eyed the
boy with the tattooed torso. A devil smiled out from his hairless
chest. “I’m looking for someone.”
“Told you,” the second one with a nose
piercing observed as he leered over his friend’s bare shoulder.
“Dude’s a narc.”
“Okay,” Cynical said, conceding the point if
it would end the dialogue. “Now move along.”
“I don’t answer to you,” the inked-up, alpha
dog warned. “In here, you answer to me.” The kid took an aggressive
step forward, which didn’t get the frightened reaction he was
hoping for from his quarry. “You want to dance with the devil?”
“No thanks,” Cynical said, “I was already
married to her.” The nose-pierced kid snorted; even his friend
seemed momentarily disarmed. Prematurely thinking he’d won them
over, Cynical took out the photo. “Have either of you seen this
girl?”
The shirtless leader leaned in, as if he was
actually going to take a look. Once he was close enough, he brought
his fist around like a windmill, smashing the glass encased photo
to the concrete floor.
“That’s going to be your face” the kid
spat.
The explosion of anger had surprised Cynical,
but the threat had given him time to ready himself for the
unavoidable fight that was to follow. Part of him wanted to warn
the kid that this wasn’t going to be a fair fight. But he knew the
kid wouldn’t have listened anyway.
When the shirtless one came at him, Cynical
stepped to the side and grabbed the back of his baggy jeans.
Continuing to whirl around, he helped his amped-up, would-be
attacker run smack into the brick wall behind him. With his elbow,
he gave the kid an extra crack on the back of his neck, instantly
dropping him to his knees. It may not have been elegant, but it was
effective.
Pivoting, he saw the second kid was
momentarily stymied, trying to decide whether he should jump in or
not. Having seen his friend fall so quickly, and his opponent
crouched in a practiced fighter’s stance, he was having second
thoughts. Trying to steer the sidekick into making the decision
that didn’t involve the emergency room, Cynical dropped his
fists.
“Help your friend up.”
Nose Pierce grabbed the slumping boy, pulling
him to his feet. Swallowing hard, the dazed kid muttered something
low enough not to be heard and, turning around, displayed a tattoo
of an angel on his back. With the support of his buddy, he shuffled
away, his distressed designer jeans dragging behind him.
The whole thing happened so fast it hadn’t
attracted much attention; only a few ghouls stared from a
respectful distance. Cynical picked up the photo of Michael and
Karen. A piece of glass was missing and a crack ran in-between the
couple. If he was the superstitious type, it wasn’t a good sign.
But he wasn’t superstitious.
Taking a pull on his beer, Cynical tried to
fade back into the background, just wanting be left alone for as
long as he had to be there and hoping it wouldn’t be too long.
CHAPTER
25
With his beer long gone, the techno “music”
continued to assault him from every angle. He supposed he was
listening to different songs mixed together in one never-ending
music marathon, but couldn’t be sure. Compared to this, disco was
king.
Cynical checked his watch again. Two minutes
since the last time he looked. In total, he had been a prisoner of
the Boom Boom Room an hour and ten minutes. If he’d just taken
Mancuso’s fifty grand, he would have called it a night by now. Now
that his retirement depended on this case, he dug in for the
duration.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a
flurry of hand movements from the direction of the bar. As he
headed toward the taps, the bartender gave him a subtle head nod
toward a
to these kids. A couple of representatives of the future walked by,
giving him a hard look, which he returned without all the effort
they exuded.
“What are you doing here?” the shirtless one
snarled.
Cynical finished a swig of beer and eyed the
boy with the tattooed torso. A devil smiled out from his hairless
chest. “I’m looking for someone.”
“Told you,” the second one with a nose
piercing observed as he leered over his friend’s bare shoulder.
“Dude’s a narc.”
“Okay,” Cynical said, conceding the point if
it would end the dialogue. “Now move along.”
“I don’t answer to you,” the inked-up, alpha
dog warned. “In here, you answer to me.” The kid took an aggressive
step forward, which didn’t get the frightened reaction he was
hoping for from his quarry. “You want to dance with the devil?”
“No thanks,” Cynical said, “I was already
married to her.” The nose-pierced kid snorted; even his friend
seemed momentarily disarmed. Prematurely thinking he’d won them
over, Cynical took out the photo. “Have either of you seen this
girl?”
The shirtless leader leaned in, as if he was
actually going to take a look. Once he was close enough, he brought
his fist around like a windmill, smashing the glass encased photo
to the concrete floor.
“That’s going to be your face” the kid
spat.
The explosion of anger had surprised Cynical,
but the threat had given him time to ready himself for the
unavoidable fight that was to follow. Part of him wanted to warn
the kid that this wasn’t going to be a fair fight. But he knew the
kid wouldn’t have listened anyway.
When the shirtless one came at him, Cynical
stepped to the side and grabbed the back of his baggy jeans.
Continuing to whirl around, he helped his amped-up, would-be
attacker run smack into the brick wall behind him. With his elbow,
he gave the kid an extra crack on the back of his neck, instantly
dropping him to his knees. It may not have been elegant, but it was
effective.
Pivoting, he saw the second kid was
momentarily stymied, trying to decide whether he should jump in or
not. Having seen his friend fall so quickly, and his opponent
crouched in a practiced fighter’s stance, he was having second
thoughts. Trying to steer the sidekick into making the decision
that didn’t involve the emergency room, Cynical dropped his
fists.
“Help your friend up.”
Nose Pierce grabbed the slumping boy, pulling
him to his feet. Swallowing hard, the dazed kid muttered something
low enough not to be heard and, turning around, displayed a tattoo
of an angel on his back. With the support of his buddy, he shuffled
away, his distressed designer jeans dragging behind him.
The whole thing happened so fast it hadn’t
attracted much attention; only a few ghouls stared from a
respectful distance. Cynical picked up the photo of Michael and
Karen. A piece of glass was missing and a crack ran in-between the
couple. If he was the superstitious type, it wasn’t a good sign.
But he wasn’t superstitious.
Taking a pull on his beer, Cynical tried to
fade back into the background, just wanting be left alone for as
long as he had to be there and hoping it wouldn’t be too long.
CHAPTER
25
With his beer long gone, the techno “music”
continued to assault him from every angle. He supposed he was
listening to different songs mixed together in one never-ending
music marathon, but couldn’t be sure. Compared to this, disco was
king.
Cynical checked his watch again. Two minutes
since the last time he looked. In total, he had been a prisoner of
the Boom Boom Room an hour and ten minutes. If he’d just taken
Mancuso’s fifty grand, he would have called it a night by now. Now
that his retirement depended on this case, he dug in for the
duration.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a
flurry of hand movements from the direction of the bar. As he
headed toward the taps, the bartender gave him a subtle head nod
toward a
Similar Books
