- - 13 - -
We have a couple good days. It was a big relief to get tired and just crash, without having to get shitfaced, jack off a couple times...
Then, later, the lust revs up again. Just when I'd started to hope. Pussy - both wantin' it so bad we couldn't see straight. Literally. By now, I can't believe I ever thought that was just a cliché.
Everything's blurry. It's like I've got blinders on too.
- - 14 - -
One time, in the kitchen, I look at Shon. Sitting at the table, spaced out. But his lips are moving. It takes me a while to figure it out -
"Take the deal," I say quietly.
He jumps, like I slapped him or something.
"Knock it off!" he yells, pitching the ashtray at me. It goes wide.
We look at each other.
"That... wasn't aimed at you," he finally says.
"Obviously." I know what he means - the yelling. Meant for the voice in his head. Don't I know that one. "I shouldn't have... confirmed it. Like that."
"Well. Sneak up on a guy."
I pick up the ashtray. "I'm sorry. Good thing you can't throw worth beans."
"Gimme that," he demands, starting to grin. "Stand right there..."
- - 15 - -
The next day was better - we weren't horny, anyway. Almost optimistic. The damn professor from Stanford might come through. All was not lost. Shit like that.
After we ate dinner, watching the Braves game -
"What?" Shon says.
"I didn't say anything," I tell him.
"But - I heard -" His eyes get big. "Oh."
"Oh, what?"
"Reasons," he says. "I was thinking of all these reasons... why the deal is on the up-and up. I'm too high-profile, too much work, plenty of other slobs to kidnap." He gets a cigarette out, gathering his thoughts. "Ciuna won't back down. That I'm definitely sure of. She can enforce the deal -"
"You were thinkin' all that?"
"Shit," he drawls, shaking his head slowly. "That ain't the weird part. Just now, the last thing I was thinkin' about was all these tats. I mean, they're okay for you. You like 'em. They're really gonna get in my way, though. All that latex base to cover 'em up. It'll suck. So I was thinking what it'll be like..."
"Yeah?"
"And I heard... somebody say, 'There's a way to wipe those tattoos clean off. No scars.' Well, alright. I like the sound of that - and then it dawns on me, I heard that. So you had to have said it."
"D, I didn't say it."
He looks annoyed. "Well, I know that now..."
We sit there - and I start thinking. Black light - no, some special kind of light. A topical cream, soaking in. And something internal, like a serum, working from the inside. Loosening the ink, and the light breaking it down.
I look at him. He's seen my expression change, apparently. Leaning over -
Now I'm the one who's confused. I had been thinking... and I saw pictures in my head. And at some point it became sentences, or something. Like someone talking - Shon?
"Sorry?" I say to him.
His eyes narrow. "I didn't say anything, brah. Now you're doing it."
We check the doors, and the equipment, talking it over.
Our best guess - the tickler is learning. Language, or something. It wasn't communicating like this before. Of course, it wasn't jamming our thoughts before, either. Or getting us horny.
Well, not from the inside.
I come out of the bathroom, in time to hear Shon say: "But there are holes."
"Holes in what?" I ask him.
He seems embarrassed. "In its... plans. It was vulnerable. The whole Stanford thing got it to check. Found some weaknesses, closed 'em up."
I nod. "Yeah... 'But there are holes'?"
"Weaknesses. Yeah. Even if it blocked 'em... we were on the right track, somehow. And if there were some holes, there's gotta be others. Maybe some are still... open."
Hmmmm. I have my doubts -
Whispering? No, not exactly. Like sentences I can't quite make out.
"Confident," I blurt out. "Safe. Like we're never gonna find a way that'll really hold it up. Even the college geeks aren't going to beat it. That's the story."
Shon nods slowly. "So it says."
I have no idea how he stays as optimistic as he does. Me, I just think about what's after us, and it scares the fuckin' shit out of me.
So naturally, we decide to drink until we pass out. Making a lot of stupid jokes, hilarious to us, as weird things enter our head.
No way to be absolutely sure, about Ciuna's deal. We go round and round over this. The tickler lies like a dog... but how would Ciuna come up with a deal like that? I don't think she has anywhere near enough imagination. Shon points and me and frowns, making a fist. As in, don't go makin' fun of my snatch.
- - 16 - -
By morning, it's in my head again. With a threat.
Take the deal... or else.
Or else what, I wonder.
We talk it over, decide we're in for a rough time if we open the door and let it in, and a rougher time if we don't. Now there's a sweet choice.
Shon's still of the mind that help is on the way. "We don't know the Stanford guys are gonna fail -"
"Right. Dream on, fucker..."
Nothing on the radio but static.
But he shrugs it off. We're both in a really good mood. Relaxed, for no reason I can see.
"Are we drunk?"
Shon looks up from the TV, and grins. "Nah. Better fix that."
It's... a suspiciously uneventful day.
And all night. I sleep like a rock, without remembering any dreams.
Wake up, all of a sudden. Jumpy. Fidgety. Thinking about the tickler. Or getting a message from it...
Exasperation. Maybe anger. Vivid ideas of what the torture would be like if it was really pissed off. If I didn't cooperate.
I sat there, in bed, and smoked for a long time. Going over what could happen. Threats - no, more like promises. All aimed at me. It was getting really pissed, and Shon wasn't the target. He was only holding out on my account. And when it got hold of me...
- - 17 - -
Shon's already up. He gives me a weird look.
"What?"
"Just getting a... message."
"Yeah?"
"It's real serious..."
I yawn at him. "Like it's angry? Mainly at you?"
"Y-yeah," he says, surprised.
"I was gettin' that last night. Woke me up."
He sighs. Then he gets all shifty. "Soooooo, uh, D. I did some sleepwalking of my own -"
"Sleepwalking?" I shoot a look over at the door - nah, it's still closed up.
"Sorta. I got up. Couldn't stop myself. Went to get the key..."
I just nod. Signal him - go on, go on.
"Warn't no key under the soap, there. So I... uh, it had me walk on over anyway. To the door. Nope. No key." And he stares at me.
"No key?"
"Nope. What'd you do with it?"
"Last place you'd look." I laugh, and walk into the kitchen. Grab a bottle of vitamins, walk back out and lob it over.
He opens it and peers in there. And digs the key out, smirking like a cat.
"Your turn," I say over my shoulder, heading for the shower. "Hide it good."
We're talking, that afternoon. About crew pranks during Fence. And we start to laugh.
At first it seems like one of those goofy times when we just set each other off. But it starts to wind down, and then we're off again.
It's an odd feeling, and I can't overrule it. Like this hamster wheel in my brain - the little fucker starts moving, and I laugh, and it picks up speed. Stops, pauses, and starts going again. Manic, wordless excitement, and I just have to hoot again.
I end up on the floor. He's on the couch, curled into a ball. Roaring. I try to get up for a while, and just can't manage it. We laugh until our sides ache and the tears run.
Laugh until we're exhausted.
Finally, after I don't know how long, there's a sudden halt. The sensation of hands clapping. One clap, real loud. Getting my attention. But no sound. We both look around, then at each other -
And I have the strangest... mood. A killer buzz. Warm and thick, oozing through my veins. This is another message, I decide. But what -
Shon gasps then. His eyes are wide. They roam over the floor and lock on to me. "Damn..."
"What is that?" I manage to say. Taking it for granted he knows exactly what I'm talking about. "Is it... thankful?"
He shakes his head, and stops to think about it. Finally, "Nah. More like... 'you can trust me'. It's honorable."
I wait for him to amend that... but he doesn't. "It says it's honorable. That's what you meant." He frowns and thinks some more. "Tell me that's what you meant." As the seconds pass, without him agreeing with me, I get a bad feeling in the pit of my belly... "Oh, give me a fuckin' break -"
"No, now wait," he says hesitantly. "I'm not that far gone. It's just... I'm trying to remember - ah!" He snaps his fingers. "It's legit. Somehow."
He's finally lost it.
"Quit lookin' at me like that," Shon grumbles. "I... wasn't expecting this. Hell, I never looked before. But that... mood. The things I was thinking, right then - don't ask me to explain it yet, but it all lines up. The deal, other stuff Ciuna told me..." He trails off.
By that time, I'm just laying there with my eyes closed. Actually biting my tongue. Literally. No point in getting pissed off now. Too late for that.
And soon it doesn't matter anyway. We both get hammered with lust again. I start to think about Gabrielle. Arguably the best full night of sex I've ever had...
Sweaty, heart pounding, mouth actually watering. I stand up, to go to my room and jack off. Shon takes a few seconds to notice. His eyes are glazed. Shallow breaths.
"Later," I say, cocking my head toward my room.
"Don't I know it," he says, swallowing, and rolling his eyes.
No help is coming. No way out...
I lay in bed, some hours later. The skin on my dick is chafed. So I stare at the ceiling for awhile and try to think up something clever.
This place is a cage. Worse - it's a real solid cage. Our cell. All set for the son of a bitch who wants in. Way off the beaten path. Lots of food left. That leaves only the chance of slipping past it and running real fast. No, no, guys, that ain't gonna happen, instead I'm comin' inside your fancy bunker with you. And I'm gonna lock the door so we can all hang out, have a whole lotta fun.
- - 18 - -
We sit by the radios, listening to the low crackle of our doom. I check the coax connection on the interior antenna for the twentieth time.
"Dude, let it go," Shon says. "Get me a beer."
"Fuck you, and the agent you rode in on." And he snorts at that. But I get up, and bring a couple beers...
We sit with our back to the radios, the squelch filter on again, and look at the antenna.
"You ever had anything else weird happen to you?" I ask him. "Some sign, maybe, that this was coming, down the line?"
He shakes his head. "Nope. You?"
I hesitate too long before I shake my head. Wondering why I even asked him, since it just invites the same question back at me.
"Spill it."
I start to protest.
"Spill it. Shit, D, we got nuthin' but time..."
So I figure, what the hell.
"Well, this always stuck in my craw. I got a brother, Kevin, who's three years older than me. But Tomás was before him. The rubber broke, something like that. My mom was seventeen. He would've been, what, seven years older'n me." Why am I telling this shit, to anybody? Best reason I can figure is with all we've been through, Shon and me... nothing's hard to believe anymore.
"He got jumped by some 'bangers, fell and hit his head just right. He'd just turned eighteen. Nobody was all that surprised, 'cause Tom was a wild man from the word go. Spitfire. Exactly like mom. Did everything passionately. He was just a fearless bastard. A maniac.
"My clearest memory of him is this one night - I was ten - no. He was... sixteen, then, so I was nine. About three in the morning, I heard this low humming. Rolled over and looked - we all shared a room - and there he was, this six-foot-one wolf sittin' there, with his back against the wall real casual, legs sprawled out on the bed. Humming a little, rolling a joint one-handed. He looks over at me, and grins even crazier around his cigarette, and says, "Picolito!" which he knew I hated. Polished off that smoke with one hand and brought the joint up to lick with the other - like clockwork - staring me down all the while, a real wild, real friendly leer.
"And it hit me, that Tom was all grown up. In my eyes. He had it together, even though he was only sixteen. Doin' what he damn well pleased. Man, he was my hero, more than ever at that moment. And I muttered 'Wow,' or something, and he chuckled and said something like, 'Stick with me kid, you're gonna turn out alright.' "
I haven't thought about him in a long time.Shon takes a drag and watches me. Gives me a quick nod.
He doesn't interrupt. I have to smile at that. "He was probably dealin' the night he died. It was pretty much the way everybody expected he'd go out. Set me against runnin' the streets. Kev tried to take after him. Same old story." I shift around, and figure what the hell, go for broke. "He staked out all of Tom's stuff, but he never got to be all that tall, or as wide in the shoulders. So I ended up with Tom's clothes.""They stayed in a box in our closet for a few years. I felt like I didn't want to mock him, or something. Kevin had been partying more and more, and he talked me into trying stuff so he wouldn't be the only one catching shit if we were caught. The first time he got me stoned, we talked about Tom s, and it seemed to me that Kevin was maybe tryin' to actually do something nice. Totally out of character. I annoyed the crap out of him, but he still made me try different drugs, in the safety of our bedroom. Tom wasn't there anymore, to walk me through 'em." I give Shon a look - you with me so far?
"Yeah. But he was sharing the blame too. If you got busted."
I chuckle once. "Definitely. But my folks just left us be. Shit, they didn't know what to do about Kevin, trying to take after Tom, and they didn't see the same signs in me so it was all watching and waiting, on their part. Let the adolescence run its course."
"Wow."
"Yeah, well. The usual story, I guess - until we went back to school. My sophomore year. Kevin fell in love with chiva, and that was just about it for him -"
Shon waves a hand briefly. "Is that a girl?"
It takes me a few seconds to understand the question. "No. Sorry. Heroin. Shooting up. He 'graduated' to the hard stuff."
"Ah. Go on.""The weather turned, and my best sneakers had these massive holes in 'em. I kept wondering if Tom's old stuff would fit yet, but was still too intimidated to dig into the box and see. What finally made it necessary is that some asshole stole my coat, right out of the cafeteria. It was no prize, either. All worn out. Money was really tight, and I knew better than to ask for a new coat. There was another option. Tom's boots were a little big for me yet, but his old Levi jacket fit just right. Thick lining. Reeked like weed. I wondered what Tom would say, if he saw me wearing his stuff."
Shon laughed. "So. You're talking about a fork in the road. Major decision point."
"Exactly. No way I was gonna 'pull a Tom' and follow him, die before I turned twenty. But I did admire the hell out of him too. Rememering some of the good times, I didn't even realize I was checking the jacket pockets. There was his lighter. Beat-up old Zippo, with a big symbol scratched on one side - from the Latin Kings. You know, the gang? Friendship, protection - this dude's with us."
Shon eventually catches on, and nods quickly. "Associate? Not a... member."
"Yeah. They didn't really run our neighborhood. Tom spent a lot of time in East L.A., of course. I study this lighter, and think about Tom's hand firing it up probably a hundred times a day... Without even thinking about it I'm digging through Kevin's stuff for an old bottle of lighter fluid. Got it filled." I leer at Shon. "So here's your moment of decision. Standing in the middle of the room - safe, quiet - in Tom's boots and jacket, cigarette in my mouth, I stare at his old lighter for a bit... and finally light up. Everything felt absolutely right. Tip to tail. I don't mean I felt cocky, or like I could go out there and be Tom, but I found the direction for me. Y'know? Took the right fork in the road. Right there."
"This is good stuff," he mumbles."Well. I went out for the baseball team instead, gonna be a jock, a straight-arrow - in my dead brother's clothes. Still hanging out with my friends, who were learning how to party. Stupid kids. But I was trying to be a good guy."
"One day this chick asked me for a light, so I helped her out, real cool. Heard something clink when I put the lighter back. And I found this ring." I hold up my right hand, and show him. "Uh-huh. Tom had it on, the night he died - or one real similar... it fit okay on my middle finger, back then."
"You're making this up."
"Nuh-uh. And the very next day, before baseball practice, I'm walkin' into the locker room, and the coach grabs my arm. Coach Irinko. Man, that guy could drink... He stopped me, and pointed at me. At the pocket. The same pocket. It's got a bulge. I looked at it, and reached in."
"Uh-oh," Shon grins.
"Tom's jacket, remember. Right in front of the coach I pull out a pack of Camels. About half-gone. I hadn't smoked a cigarette in a good couple weeks, and obviously I hadn't been carrying any on me that day. And I hadn't taken the jacket off, so it wasn't like one of my friends slipped 'em in there. I mean, I'd never smoked a Camel in my life, much less nonfilters, and -"
"His brand," Shon interrupts. "Tom's."
I squint at him. "You know, you're not as dumb as they all say you are -"
He gestures around us, and I figure out soon enough that he means our current situation.
"Naaah. So - we were both staring at these fuckin' cigarettes in my hand. Irinko told me I'm off the team for a month. It was another one of those key moments. I wanted a smoke. He was still cussin' me out, and I just go yeah, okay, whatever... I stepped out the door and fired one up - and damn! It was fine. Like I'd come home, y'know? I still remember that smoke... So I figured, Kevin. Thanks, asshole. I got home, and he denied it up and down... Why would I bother, a waste of good cigarettes and I thought you were a bigtime jock now, and so on." That seems like a hundred years ago. "You see where this is going. Every time I pulled on Tom's jacket, I had to smoke. It was part of wearing his jacket. Left arm, right arm, make sure the collar's down, light up. I'd get all fidgety..." I chuckle, just once. "I'd sit there in class, just waiting for the bell to ring."
"Man, do I know that one."
"Shit. His lighter in my fist. Turning it over and over. Whenever I saw the ring, it just... needed a butt burnin' down close to it, to look right..." I shrug, but he seems to get it. He makes a little hand-gesture. Keep talking.
I sigh before I do. "Maybe a week later, gettin' some socks out of the drawer, there was a pint of Bacardi layin' in the back. Kev swore he didn't stash it there, didn't care anyway. And I knew he was way too deep in the bag to bother, much less give me any free booze."He leans forward a little, clearly interested.
"Next it was Zig-Zags, in the other tit-pocket. Then, rubbers. Cross-tops... By that time I was back out there at lunch every day with the guys, taking my turn at whatever was going around. Smokin' a lot. And one weekend, this big kegger was on. I went, had a hellacious time..." I hate the next part. "When I finally came to, Sunday afternoon... I laid there for awhile. Enormous hangover. Couldn't even smoke. And finally, I saw this tattoo." Slapping my right tricep. "Hágalo y hágalo. Means, I do it and do it. I was, what, fifteen? And my dad... uh, he just stared at it, when he saw it. His eyes went down from it, and stopped at the ring. And this sad little smile worked its way over his face. I will never forget that expression." I shifted around. "It spooked me. I was all ready for him to be angry. But he wasn't."
"Tom all over again," Shon murmured.
"Exactly. I read it right. He'd already written Kevin off. And then, me too. He told me later. 'Here we go again,' was what he was thinking. I was about the same size as him, so it was too late to beat it out of me. That look on his face... and not remembering how I got the tat... It scared the shit out of me. Slow it down. Figured I'd better straighten up. Party once a month, maybe, do my homework and hit the books..." I let it trail off, and shrug.
"And... Kevin never did 'fess up to putting stuff in your pockets," Shon says. A statement, not a question.
"Denies it to this day," I reply. "And there was one more. He never would've... shit, wait. He moved out that summer. Wasn't even around. I was just doing odd jobs, here and there. Goofin' around a lot. This one week I was totally out of money, and my dad had made it real clear I'd better not even think about stealing his cigarettes. So I'd bummed maybe one smoke, the whole day, and I was overdue, y'know? I woke up the next morning, depressed 'cause it looked like there was a fast-food job in my immediate future. Rolled over, and felt a lump. Something under me that crackled -"
"Get outa here."
"I am not fuckin' kidding. It gets better. I looked, and there was a pack layin' there. Camel shortys. But it was bulgy. There was a couple of cigarettes in there - and a roll of twenties. My ring was around 'em." I had to smirk. "Tom's ring, and a big wad of cash."
He whistles.
"Man. I never told anybody about that. I still mowed lawns, here and there, but I had plenty of beer money that summer." I look at the cigarette between my fingers, and I don't remember lighting it. "I counted that money a couple times, and put the ring back on. Counted it again, got up... Bought my first carton. His brand. I knew a hint when I saw one..."
We sit there for a long while.
"Cain't top that," Shon says, shaking his head.
"Not even gonna try?"
"You got it," he laughs. "Martini shot. Right there."
"No freaky shit in your past?"
He thinks it over. "You gotta remember... I never thought I'd be me. The star. It took a long time to believe I wasn't standing in for somebody else. He was gonna be along, and want it all back -"
"Uh-huh," I say skeptically.
He cracks his neck slowly, groaning to himself. "I walked around in a state of shock. Every project made me a bigger name. It's terminally weird. My dad sold carpet for a living..." He peers at me for a sec, and smirks. "Women all over the world are workin' their vibrators right now, dreaming of me. It's insane."
I get another cigarette out, and deliberately say nothing.
"Freaky. Stretched out. I was pretty much expecting shit to be... supremely weird. And Ciuna... she didn't disappoint." He finally looks over, sees the look on my face, and busts out laughing. A good, normal laugh.
We give it up, and go back in front of the TV.
I must have dozed off. Looking up, from the floor, I see Shon's out cold too. Food sounds good, but I'm too lazy to microwave anything. So I smoke a cigarette, frowning at the movie on the cable channel that was dull enough to put us to sleep. The director has a long string of yawners...
Something's bothering me, way in the back of my mind. I'm not horny - which is a big relief...
No threatening messages. Nothing. It's like there's no adversary any more.
I'm insulted, sort of. How dumb does it think we are? But I just yawn, and get up. Shon hasn't moved. He'll be fine on the couch. I go to bed.
- - 19 - -
Wonderful sleep. No dreams.
I wake up and think about jacking off. Is it my own idea? Seems like it...
So I do.
Not sleepy at all, afterward. I am ready to eat, too. Shon's cooking something. I hope there's bacon involved, even if he always burns it. The way he likes it. I decide to get out there in case there's still time to save some bacon from that crispy fate...
"Deck. Dude," he says happily.
"Hey, you." I look. "Take some of that bacon out, right now."
He pokes at it with a fork. "It's too... rubbery."
"Do it, and I'll let you live."
"Hah."
"You're in a mood."
"Well. So are you."
I blow on my coffee and sit down. "Why are we in a good mood?" He made a little snort. "How are you feeling? Physically?"
"Like I could eat a horse."
"Yeah. Me too..."
He stalks into the living room, with a bottle. Wiggling it. Leering.
I smile. "That's so Hollywood. We just ate breakfast."
As he breaks the seal, he looks at the TV. "It's nine o'clock at night. Look."
"Shon," I groan.
He takes a swig. Holds the bottle out.
Eventually I take it. "I never could say 'no' to you."
"Exactly my thought."
About a half-hour later, I figure it out.
Of course. Of course of course oh shit... Shit.
"No, thanks. Maybe later."
I look up. He's staring.
Oops. "Was I... mumbling?"
"Nope," he says. "You said it real loud and clear."
"Oh."
"D. That's not a look I like. On your face."
I squint at him. "You're gonna like this even less."
He closes his mouth. Shoots his eyebrows up...
Trying to find a way to soften the blow, I just shake my head. "Dude... it's in." His expression doesn't change. "Inside. Already in."
"No it's not," he says reflexively. "No."
I don't say anything, hoping he can persuade me.
"We'd know. If it was in." He struggles for words.
"We assumed."
"What?"
I get up. "Let's try the radios."
"You're losin' it," he complains.
Nothing but the usual static. Just the same. Maybe... too much the same. Uniform. Not enough random little bursts of noise. "You got a screwdriver around here?"
I see it, right away. The tuner. Why didn't I check this before?
Clipped leads, where there used to be resistors.
Powering it back up, I turn the dial. The numbers on the LED display roll up, just like they should.
"Look at this," I tell Shon, and he leans over. "Looks okay, from the outside. No way to know we're not actually listening to... any frequency."
"Or transmitting?"
I close my eyes. "Yeah."
Three radios, identically fucked.
The oldest radio takes me a little longer. It's been a while...
"Ah-ha."
"What?," he says glumly.
"No crystals. The little things that set the frequency, for each channel..." I look at the front panel. "Six channels... But there's twelve slots. Oh. Okay. Six for transmit, six for receive -"
"It looked like it was working."
"Hell. It still is. Right up to the point where it... grabs the frequency to use. No crystal, no go."
"How long ag- Uh..."
"I don't know."
"It's been awhile since we actually, y'know, talked to the geeks," he says doubtfully.
"Uh-huh."
After a few seconds, he hasn't asked the obvious next question. No need.
"Fuck," I sigh, slamming the microphone down.
We look over the sensors, the rest of the gear. It all looks... normal. All those red lights on the escape hatches. Sealed off. What pisses me off is that it doesn't even matter if the indicators have been fucked with - we've got no way to tell for sure. Works either way.
We can't trust the hi-tech shit that's supposed to be protecting us. A flame-thrower would've been a better investment.
So it's official. Our cage is sealed.
The tickling is much closer now. Months of food here..
We go back into the living room, and pass the bottle back and forth.
"I wonder if the deal's off," Shon says vacantly.
We are condemned men, I think. We get to smoke, get drunk...
"Deck."
"What."
"Shit!"
"What now?"
"Hold on to something."
I finish punching out my smoke before I look at him. His eyes are real big. Uh-oh. "Okay..."
Paper, rustling, by the floor. One of the scripts I brought. Laying under the coffee table -
No. Not any more, it's not. It's rising. Slowly. Way over our heads, out of reach, it halts.
A pen zooms up. The cap pops off. It writes on the back side...
The script turns around. We stare up at it.
|
OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR. |
"Plleee-eeeze."
We look at each other. Did Shon say that? I didn't.
He recovers first. "Oh ho. Vex." He nods, and frowns.
I blink at him. "It can talk. Sure."
"Pretty please?" the voice says. Very sarcastic. Low voice. A guy's voice, arrogant, calm.
"In a minute," Shon says.
The voice just laughs at him.
I can't feel it - I mean that sense of somebody watching me. Right next to you, and gone when you whip your head around. It's always been there before - that feeling. Whenever it was... nearby. One of 'em -
Shon's watching me. So I ask him...
"Nope. I'd swear it's just you and me here." He looks around. "Fuckin' bastard. Figured out how to hide that, didn't you? That feeling? That sense of somebody... watching?"
"Oh, yeah," it says.
"How long have you been in here?" I say. Politely.
Whispering, real loud - "That's my little secret."
Shon opens his mouth, looking alarmed. Then he gets out his smokes, hands moving automatically.
"Open the door your own self, then," I growl.
"No. I want you guys to do it."
"You do?"
"Yeah. It's a moment you'll never forget."
"I do not fuckin' believe this," D mutters.
On to Part 4
Back to Part 1
20oct2002