|
Walking out into the night felt like waking up from a nightmare. I started
to take stock of the last thirty minutes of my life. Was everything as
bad as it had seemed moments ago? I glanced behind and up at Tracy's
place and could feel a sick looseness in my chest, like my world falling
apart -- but as I turned back out to the street I felt grounded; I felt
like I could handle everything.
I buttoned up the top buttons on my overcoat and fished a cigarette from my pack without even thinking through the motion. I paused while I lit the cigarette. I could do this; the street was where I held court. I started walking up 22nd street and watched the long lazy swirls of mist wandered about the street lights. A mist like this and the night would be cool, but not cold. The wet would coat you, make you feel like you were sweating on the outside of your clothes, make you feel alive. "You and Terry have a nice chat?" The ugly voice came from the dark alley I'd just walked past. The question was punctuated by the cocking of a gun. "Or maybe you're his something special? His Saturday night thing?" I turned and saw Shorty in the shadows of the alley way. There was someone behind him too; someone tall, or at least taller than Shorty. I just gave Shorty a look. "Solomon has some questions for you, Kolaas. Step into my office." Shorty drifted back into the shadows, and the tall man waved the gun in the half-assed way that bozos who have been given a gun but never fired it wave a gun. Doesn't mean they're not deadly, 'cept they're apt to accidently kill you when they meant to just shove the gun in your face. I took a slow drag on my cigarette and followed after Shorty. "Where's Mr. Smith, Kolaas?" "He's safe." "Where is he?" "Where he can come to no harm. You hired me to keep him safe, he's safe as houses now." "Solomon doesn't like this. We give you Mr. Smith to keep, and here you are running to Terry's place. Why were you talking to Terry, Kolaas?" "It's another case." "You don't get to work two cases when Mr. Solomon hires you. You're going to take us to Mr. Smith and then you're going to sit on him and keep him cozy until we call for him." "I can't do that." "You're gonna do it, you better believe it. Isn't that right, Edgar? ... Edgar?" I looked over to where Edgar was standing. He'd sprouted an extra set of arms. He looked more surprised about it than I did, with his eyes fixed on the knife both his right hands were holding - right where it was stuck into his heart. His eyes slowly rolled up, and one of his right hands, the big beefy one, let go of the knife and gracefully grabbed the front of his neck. He seems to be holding himself aloft by the strength of the one hand alone - and then the hand slowly raised him into the air, like some sort of house of mirrors marionette. It took me a moment to recognize the figure of Teddy standing in the darkness immediately behind Edgar. With a odd motion Teddy freed the gun from Edgars limp hand, juggled it in his fingers for a moment, and then casually aimed it at Shorty. |