Chapter 45
Ally's scream echoed in the small hotel lobby. It was him, the man who had taken everything from her. Her family, her life...gone. His blond hair and oily smile were locked into her brain, no amount of undead or death would scrub that image from her memory. She saw the strangers eyes light up when he saw her and he held his arms wide open in greeting.
"My my my.... If it isn't my lost little love. I seem to remember you and I missing an appointment earlier. You certainly must have been missing me ever so bad to come all this way for little ole me."
Ally's eyes went wide with fright and she clawed at the worn Colt still around her waist. the stranger thought was so fast, his hands a blur going to his own revolvers.
"Now now honey.... dead or alive, I'm going to take what I want. You couldn't do a damn thing before, and you'll not do a damn thing now."
"Van Cleft, get their guns."
"Aye Cody."
The one eyed man ripped the gun from her waist and pushed her back down into her seat.
"Now Padre, I'm not sure what relationship you have with my litttle bird here, but I'm not inclined to kill a man of the cloth, but do not mistake this as mercy. No, no... I'd as soon fill you full of lead as piss on your boots if you get in my way."
She watched as Van Cleft took Enrico's gun as Cody sauntered over to her. He shoved Enrico down to his chair and looked over his shoulder as Cody loomed large above, terror and memory flooding her. He smacked her hard across the face, splitting the scab on her lip. Ally looked back up at him, her eyes filled with tears and fresh blood trickled down her lip. She didn't make a sound though. She tried to steel herself for what she knew was coming.
Cody turned, flashing one of his Colts free and pointing it at Clement.
"Put the Padre here with the others Clem and then get yer fat ass on the wall."
He tossed the saddle bags he'd had slung over his shoulders to Van Cleft as he grabbed Ally by the hair, yanking it so hard she inadvertently let out a small shriek.
"Get the boat ready, the lassie and I have a date."
Fresh tears spilled from her eyes as Cody dragged her up the stairs.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Showing posts with label Noir Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Noir Story. Show all posts
Monday, March 18, 2013
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 29
I desperately tried to draw the Beretta up in time, but the guy with the semi was to fast. I gritted my teeth, waiting for the spray of bullets to come. Just as he layed the barrel down, Mike popped up from behind the counter, his face a mask of blood, and fired his shotgun. The buckshot caught the guy full and he fell to the side, the automatic fire going wide. I bounded forward, firing the Beretta at another guy who was crawling towards his gun. With him down, I took count of Sixx's boys, making sure that we had all of them. Satisfied, I slipped and fresh clip in the Beretta and made my way towards Mike.
He was cut up pretty bad from the glass shards of the mirror, including a viciously deep one across his scalp. He had a bullet lodged in his shoulder and his leg. He slipped free his walkie talkie and radioed for backup. It was a cluster fuck, but if I wanted to get at Sixx, I needed to act fast. He told me he's cover me and motioned for me to check out Sixx's office. I nodded and made my way over to the door. My left arm burned and blood was falling freely down from my shoulder. I'd also had another round graze my scalp. This job certainly was earning me my hazard pay.
I kicked the door down and ducked back as the doorway erupted in a spray of automatic fire. The gun chattered as the doorway was peppered with bullets and I waited for the first empty click of the gun. At the sound I shoved myself around the corner, ignoring the pain in my shoulder, and thumbed the hammer back on the gun, feeling the pistol buck as each bullet roared free. I wasn't really aiming at anything in particular, but I knew the shooter had to be near the doorway based on the bullet fire. I dove into the room and kept firing, getting lucky as one of the rounds caught the shooter in the arm. I hit the ground and came up in a roll that sent a screech of protest up one side of my arm and down the other, but I muscled through and came up by the shooter. I lashed out with my gun hand, catching the shooter in the face with the butt of the pistol and I crashed it against his skull a few times for good measure. He dropped, clutching his face and I kicked the sub machine gun away and brought my gun back up.
Johnny Sixx sat at his desk, hands on the table. He wore an all black suit and his hair was slicked back. His desk was mostly free, though a loaded .45 sat beside a silver tray with several lines of coke drawn on it. I kept the gun aimed at him and he smiled, a kind of crocodile smile that someone gets when they think they still know all the angles. Time to change that perception. I fired the Beretta, catching him in the meat of his shoulder. He flew off the chair and hit the floor. Sweeping the platter of coke of the desk, I hopped up and fired to more rounds into each of his legs. Sixx tried to crawl, tears streaming down his face. I calmly plugged in my last clip and chambered in another round. I hopped down off the desk and placed the cold barrel of the gun against Sixx's balls. I made sure he heard the hammer being cocked, then I told him he was going to answer a few questions. The answers I learned, however, I wasn't gonna like.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
I desperately tried to draw the Beretta up in time, but the guy with the semi was to fast. I gritted my teeth, waiting for the spray of bullets to come. Just as he layed the barrel down, Mike popped up from behind the counter, his face a mask of blood, and fired his shotgun. The buckshot caught the guy full and he fell to the side, the automatic fire going wide. I bounded forward, firing the Beretta at another guy who was crawling towards his gun. With him down, I took count of Sixx's boys, making sure that we had all of them. Satisfied, I slipped and fresh clip in the Beretta and made my way towards Mike.
He was cut up pretty bad from the glass shards of the mirror, including a viciously deep one across his scalp. He had a bullet lodged in his shoulder and his leg. He slipped free his walkie talkie and radioed for backup. It was a cluster fuck, but if I wanted to get at Sixx, I needed to act fast. He told me he's cover me and motioned for me to check out Sixx's office. I nodded and made my way over to the door. My left arm burned and blood was falling freely down from my shoulder. I'd also had another round graze my scalp. This job certainly was earning me my hazard pay.
I kicked the door down and ducked back as the doorway erupted in a spray of automatic fire. The gun chattered as the doorway was peppered with bullets and I waited for the first empty click of the gun. At the sound I shoved myself around the corner, ignoring the pain in my shoulder, and thumbed the hammer back on the gun, feeling the pistol buck as each bullet roared free. I wasn't really aiming at anything in particular, but I knew the shooter had to be near the doorway based on the bullet fire. I dove into the room and kept firing, getting lucky as one of the rounds caught the shooter in the arm. I hit the ground and came up in a roll that sent a screech of protest up one side of my arm and down the other, but I muscled through and came up by the shooter. I lashed out with my gun hand, catching the shooter in the face with the butt of the pistol and I crashed it against his skull a few times for good measure. He dropped, clutching his face and I kicked the sub machine gun away and brought my gun back up.
Johnny Sixx sat at his desk, hands on the table. He wore an all black suit and his hair was slicked back. His desk was mostly free, though a loaded .45 sat beside a silver tray with several lines of coke drawn on it. I kept the gun aimed at him and he smiled, a kind of crocodile smile that someone gets when they think they still know all the angles. Time to change that perception. I fired the Beretta, catching him in the meat of his shoulder. He flew off the chair and hit the floor. Sweeping the platter of coke of the desk, I hopped up and fired to more rounds into each of his legs. Sixx tried to crawl, tears streaming down his face. I calmly plugged in my last clip and chambered in another round. I hopped down off the desk and placed the cold barrel of the gun against Sixx's balls. I made sure he heard the hammer being cocked, then I told him he was going to answer a few questions. The answers I learned, however, I wasn't gonna like.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 28
The Crooked Cue was set up much like any pool hall, a bunch of tables set around a long bar that had seen better days back when days WERE better. There was an almost palpable layer of smoke covering everything, a sort of grey-green cloud that hung in the air threatening to stifle even the paint itself. It smelled of stale cigarettes, sweat, cheap beer, and desperation. Mike and I walked in, shotguns primed. It wasn't as empty as I had hoped it would be, though it wasn't as full either. There were 8 guys loitering around a single table, all of the Sixx's men. You could tell by the bandanna tucked in their back pocket, green and faded. They ranged from Mexican to white, even one black guy, but all of them had the look of hard men. The black guy went for his gun first but I fired, the shotgun bucking hard in my hand. The spray caught him full in the chest, lifting him off of his feet and flinging him against the next pool table.
I turned to the other seven and asked one question. Where was Johnny Sixx. One of the Hispanics stood straight up and held his arms out to the side. He had on a matching faded green do rag and he peeled off a smile that showed his yellow teeth. He said something not nice in Spanish so I shot him too. The other six dived into action, pulling guns and ducking under tables. Mike managed to catch two before they got to cover and I caught another in the leg as he dived under the next table. Mike vaulted right, heading for the bar. I ducked left, upending one of the regular serving tables in front of me. I thumbed in a few more shells and felt a hot splinter of wood cut across my cheek a bullet exploded through the thin Formica table beside me. That's one ef those bullshit things they don't tell you in movies. Couches and tables make for some shitty fucking cover.
I rolled left again staying low, keeping my eyesight in line with the floor. I saw one of Sixx's boys laying underneath a table. He was turned to the sid eof me, peppering Mike's location with bullets from his .45. I fired once, pumped, and fired again, spraying the area with buckshot. He let out a gurgled scream before falling silent. I kept rolling as I fired, hearing the pop of more bullets firing at where I use to be. I rolled up to another pool table and vaulted over it to the other side as suddenly a new sound entered the fight, the chattering of an semi-automatic.
I heard Mike let out a grunt and I risked a glance, seeing another Mexican spraying the bar with gunfire. I took a bead, but ducked back as the other two peppered my location, bullets flying from their automatics. I needed to do something quick, I could hear the semi-auto lighting into the glass mirror behind the bar over Mike. I counted the bullets fired, waiting until I heard teh first one click empty and reload. I popped up and let loose, pumping shells into the chamber as fast as my arm could work. I felt something hot and wet run across my scalp and felt another arm shattering thud rocket through my arm. The wild spray caught both guys, one trying to dislodge a jammed shell from his gun, the second firing rapidly at me. I watched them both fly backwards, almost in slow motion as the shotgun fell from my hands. It wasn't empty, but my left arm didn't seem to want to work anymore. I pulled my Berreta free with my right and started to take aim, when the guy turned the semi-automatic towards me.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
The Crooked Cue was set up much like any pool hall, a bunch of tables set around a long bar that had seen better days back when days WERE better. There was an almost palpable layer of smoke covering everything, a sort of grey-green cloud that hung in the air threatening to stifle even the paint itself. It smelled of stale cigarettes, sweat, cheap beer, and desperation. Mike and I walked in, shotguns primed. It wasn't as empty as I had hoped it would be, though it wasn't as full either. There were 8 guys loitering around a single table, all of the Sixx's men. You could tell by the bandanna tucked in their back pocket, green and faded. They ranged from Mexican to white, even one black guy, but all of them had the look of hard men. The black guy went for his gun first but I fired, the shotgun bucking hard in my hand. The spray caught him full in the chest, lifting him off of his feet and flinging him against the next pool table.
I turned to the other seven and asked one question. Where was Johnny Sixx. One of the Hispanics stood straight up and held his arms out to the side. He had on a matching faded green do rag and he peeled off a smile that showed his yellow teeth. He said something not nice in Spanish so I shot him too. The other six dived into action, pulling guns and ducking under tables. Mike managed to catch two before they got to cover and I caught another in the leg as he dived under the next table. Mike vaulted right, heading for the bar. I ducked left, upending one of the regular serving tables in front of me. I thumbed in a few more shells and felt a hot splinter of wood cut across my cheek a bullet exploded through the thin Formica table beside me. That's one ef those bullshit things they don't tell you in movies. Couches and tables make for some shitty fucking cover.
I rolled left again staying low, keeping my eyesight in line with the floor. I saw one of Sixx's boys laying underneath a table. He was turned to the sid eof me, peppering Mike's location with bullets from his .45. I fired once, pumped, and fired again, spraying the area with buckshot. He let out a gurgled scream before falling silent. I kept rolling as I fired, hearing the pop of more bullets firing at where I use to be. I rolled up to another pool table and vaulted over it to the other side as suddenly a new sound entered the fight, the chattering of an semi-automatic.
I heard Mike let out a grunt and I risked a glance, seeing another Mexican spraying the bar with gunfire. I took a bead, but ducked back as the other two peppered my location, bullets flying from their automatics. I needed to do something quick, I could hear the semi-auto lighting into the glass mirror behind the bar over Mike. I counted the bullets fired, waiting until I heard teh first one click empty and reload. I popped up and let loose, pumping shells into the chamber as fast as my arm could work. I felt something hot and wet run across my scalp and felt another arm shattering thud rocket through my arm. The wild spray caught both guys, one trying to dislodge a jammed shell from his gun, the second firing rapidly at me. I watched them both fly backwards, almost in slow motion as the shotgun fell from my hands. It wasn't empty, but my left arm didn't seem to want to work anymore. I pulled my Berreta free with my right and started to take aim, when the guy turned the semi-automatic towards me.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 27
I made my way down Baker Street that night. Annie hadn't been happy about me leaving, saying that I shouldn't do this on my own. Frankly, I didn't want to do it either, but I had taken a job. I had tipped of Mike with the info I had, and while officially he couldn't lend any badge help, he had said he would see what he could do. I had told him thanks and while I hoped he could help, I couldn't wait any longer. The longer I delayed, the better the chance of Johnny Sixx finding out it was me that beat on his boy. Also the better chance that I'd lose my only lead on Elsa Lomack. Either he'd move her, or I'd be far to fucking late.
The Barrows were quiet tonight, that alone would unnerve the best of men. I checked the clip on my gun and the spares I had stashed in my shoulder holster. I could still feel the firm weight of the lead baton tucked up my sleeve. I had also snagged a new cell which I secured in my coat pocket. Tonight was going to be ugly and it was best to be prepared for anything. I knew that Sixx had Lomack, Horner had fed me what he knew. More importantly, he had also told me where to find him. The Crooked Cue, a pool hall in The Barrows that Sixx was using as a front. That meant a lot of armed guys waiting for someone like me to make a move. A lot of guys I was going to have to hurt.
I waited down the block from the Cue and lit a cigarette. Mike had promised to let me know what was up by 10pm, and I had a few minutes still. I smoked, watching the tendrils of fume wisp towards the pale glow of the streetlight, and pulled my collar a bit tighter as a soft patter of rain began to fall. I was on my second smoke when my pocket began to buzz. I flicked open the cell and opened the text message, it was from Mike and simply said 5 minutes. I clicked the phone shut and slid it into my pocket, finishing the cigarette in a long final puff. This is usually the moment people begin to worry, where their muscles tighten up and that empty pit inside your stomach threaten to empty itself on the sidewalk beneath you. That didn't happen to me though. I was ready to face this one on my feet.
I ground out the butt beneath my heel and walked towards the Cue. There was an alley way across from the club that I watched a battered Impala turn up into. Mike's Impala. I walked over to the alley as Mike got out. He was dressed in all black, but from the lump on his chest I could see he had a vest on. He looked at me, nodding. He pulled two pump action shotguns from the backseat and tossed me one. I had told him what had happened to Annie, and about Lomack. He had said that for once in his life, he felt like he needed to make a difference. He had been itching for a crack at Sixx since our days on the Force together. Besides he had said, he still owed me one for not turning him in when I testified.
We cocked the shotguns, and prepared to enter hell.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
I made my way down Baker Street that night. Annie hadn't been happy about me leaving, saying that I shouldn't do this on my own. Frankly, I didn't want to do it either, but I had taken a job. I had tipped of Mike with the info I had, and while officially he couldn't lend any badge help, he had said he would see what he could do. I had told him thanks and while I hoped he could help, I couldn't wait any longer. The longer I delayed, the better the chance of Johnny Sixx finding out it was me that beat on his boy. Also the better chance that I'd lose my only lead on Elsa Lomack. Either he'd move her, or I'd be far to fucking late.
The Barrows were quiet tonight, that alone would unnerve the best of men. I checked the clip on my gun and the spares I had stashed in my shoulder holster. I could still feel the firm weight of the lead baton tucked up my sleeve. I had also snagged a new cell which I secured in my coat pocket. Tonight was going to be ugly and it was best to be prepared for anything. I knew that Sixx had Lomack, Horner had fed me what he knew. More importantly, he had also told me where to find him. The Crooked Cue, a pool hall in The Barrows that Sixx was using as a front. That meant a lot of armed guys waiting for someone like me to make a move. A lot of guys I was going to have to hurt.
I waited down the block from the Cue and lit a cigarette. Mike had promised to let me know what was up by 10pm, and I had a few minutes still. I smoked, watching the tendrils of fume wisp towards the pale glow of the streetlight, and pulled my collar a bit tighter as a soft patter of rain began to fall. I was on my second smoke when my pocket began to buzz. I flicked open the cell and opened the text message, it was from Mike and simply said 5 minutes. I clicked the phone shut and slid it into my pocket, finishing the cigarette in a long final puff. This is usually the moment people begin to worry, where their muscles tighten up and that empty pit inside your stomach threaten to empty itself on the sidewalk beneath you. That didn't happen to me though. I was ready to face this one on my feet.
I ground out the butt beneath my heel and walked towards the Cue. There was an alley way across from the club that I watched a battered Impala turn up into. Mike's Impala. I walked over to the alley as Mike got out. He was dressed in all black, but from the lump on his chest I could see he had a vest on. He looked at me, nodding. He pulled two pump action shotguns from the backseat and tossed me one. I had told him what had happened to Annie, and about Lomack. He had said that for once in his life, he felt like he needed to make a difference. He had been itching for a crack at Sixx since our days on the Force together. Besides he had said, he still owed me one for not turning him in when I testified.
We cocked the shotguns, and prepared to enter hell.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 26
I woke up the next morning sore in place I had forgotten I had and most of them not from the fights I'd been in the previous nights. I rolled out of bed and gingerly moved into the bathroom, cranking the heat on the shower and started taking off my bandages. The steam begin to fill up the bathroom and the mirror fogged over as I slid in, the warm water stinging the fresh bruises and cuts. The sweat and dried blood flecked off as I gently cleaned each wound and began to work over the more tender areas.
There was still one piece of the puzzle that didn't fit. What Johnny Sixx wanted with this Elsa Lomack. He had to have some kind of angle on her inheritance, or think there was some way this would benefit him. This guy was smart and getting mixed up with someone like the Lomack family meant he had an angle. If he shows up with her before the statute of limitations faded on the will. Lomack is worth a fortune and Sixx must figure he has got some way of getting in on that. The only thing i can't figure out is why he hasn't made a move on it yet. There is still one piece missing. One piece I was going to have to find out the old fashioned way. Tonight.
I walked into the bed room, Annie framed in the doorway to the living room, her hair pulled back and clad in a robe. Her tattoos poked out from beneath the sleeves of her robe as she sipped a cup of coffee. So beautiful and fierce, it was these quiet moments I treasured, when she let her guard down. She left me a cup on the dresser and I tossed it back, tasting the spike of whiskey she had laced in it. I tossed a couple more pills with the last of the coffee and got dressed. Annie had gotten a clean suit for me yesterday and I slipped it on. Gray pants with a black shirt and gray jacket. I slung the dark tie on and slipped my shoulder holster on, wincing as I pulled the jacket over them both.
I walked over to Annie and took her in my arms. I could smell her shampoo in her hair as I held her close, her face nuzzled in my chest. We stood there a long time, the intense fury and adrenalin from last night washed away,leaving us with the realization of just what we had done last night. Of just how close we had come. Annie shivered slightly and I hugged her a little tighter. She knew the score from last night. I still had one more door to knock on. A door she couldn't follow me to. One more door tonight and this job was going to end, one way or another.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
I woke up the next morning sore in place I had forgotten I had and most of them not from the fights I'd been in the previous nights. I rolled out of bed and gingerly moved into the bathroom, cranking the heat on the shower and started taking off my bandages. The steam begin to fill up the bathroom and the mirror fogged over as I slid in, the warm water stinging the fresh bruises and cuts. The sweat and dried blood flecked off as I gently cleaned each wound and began to work over the more tender areas.
There was still one piece of the puzzle that didn't fit. What Johnny Sixx wanted with this Elsa Lomack. He had to have some kind of angle on her inheritance, or think there was some way this would benefit him. This guy was smart and getting mixed up with someone like the Lomack family meant he had an angle. If he shows up with her before the statute of limitations faded on the will. Lomack is worth a fortune and Sixx must figure he has got some way of getting in on that. The only thing i can't figure out is why he hasn't made a move on it yet. There is still one piece missing. One piece I was going to have to find out the old fashioned way. Tonight.
I walked into the bed room, Annie framed in the doorway to the living room, her hair pulled back and clad in a robe. Her tattoos poked out from beneath the sleeves of her robe as she sipped a cup of coffee. So beautiful and fierce, it was these quiet moments I treasured, when she let her guard down. She left me a cup on the dresser and I tossed it back, tasting the spike of whiskey she had laced in it. I tossed a couple more pills with the last of the coffee and got dressed. Annie had gotten a clean suit for me yesterday and I slipped it on. Gray pants with a black shirt and gray jacket. I slung the dark tie on and slipped my shoulder holster on, wincing as I pulled the jacket over them both.
I walked over to Annie and took her in my arms. I could smell her shampoo in her hair as I held her close, her face nuzzled in my chest. We stood there a long time, the intense fury and adrenalin from last night washed away,leaving us with the realization of just what we had done last night. Of just how close we had come. Annie shivered slightly and I hugged her a little tighter. She knew the score from last night. I still had one more door to knock on. A door she couldn't follow me to. One more door tonight and this job was going to end, one way or another.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Sunday, December 06, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 25
Horner had spilled his guts, telling me almost everything I needed to know, even if it did take a little more "coaxing" on my part. Roger Horner had one been a part of an elite crowd, the debutantes and heirs, one of those people who get famous for being famous. Except he never got his break. He started heading into the Barrows to play at being "street." Seems though that he became a victim of his own fame. In that ind of world, having money can buy you a lot of friends, but once that money dries up it can buy you a lot of enemies. Horner spiraled deeper and deeper into the mess, dragging poor Elsa with him. She was in love, and the two of them fell farther out of control. It got so bad that Horner's parents cut him off, coincidentally I'm sure, around the same time Elsa'a father was marrying Alison.
The two took their weekend squatting and made it a full time thing and you can guess what happened from there. Horner starting doing whatever he could for another fix, and Elsa turned to the one thing she still had, her looks. Eventually Horner caught the eye of Johnny Sixx, who gave him a place in his organization, providing Elsa go with him. By this point Elsa was pretty much a bombed out shell. High and addicted, she still had her looks and that's why Horner thought Sixx wanted her. I wasn't so sure. Something still stunk, and it wasn't Horner's fucking cologne. Sixx knew something, the last piece of a puzzle that was really starting to piss me off.
I had Annie phone in a tip to my old pal Mike from Horner's apartment and told the girl in red to beat it the fuck out of here. I left Horner tied up in his room and Annie and I split. We took the stairs down and I peeked out in the lobby to make sure it was all clear. I had already made a big enough mess of things upstairs, I couldn't afford to get busted now. We hopped in the car, Annie pushing me out of the way to drive.
I looked at Annie as she hit the accelerator and rocketed towards home. She was practically glowing, a fierce light in her eyes. This kind of shit really got her off, the adrenalin, the rush, the danger. Some people get scared and shut down, Annie, the fear makes her feel more alive. Fuck, all I felt was the need for a drink after this kind of stuff. Annie, hell, she was ready to fuck your brains out. Somehow, I think the most dangerous part of my night was still ahead.
Horner had spilled his guts, telling me almost everything I needed to know, even if it did take a little more "coaxing" on my part. Roger Horner had one been a part of an elite crowd, the debutantes and heirs, one of those people who get famous for being famous. Except he never got his break. He started heading into the Barrows to play at being "street." Seems though that he became a victim of his own fame. In that ind of world, having money can buy you a lot of friends, but once that money dries up it can buy you a lot of enemies. Horner spiraled deeper and deeper into the mess, dragging poor Elsa with him. She was in love, and the two of them fell farther out of control. It got so bad that Horner's parents cut him off, coincidentally I'm sure, around the same time Elsa'a father was marrying Alison.
The two took their weekend squatting and made it a full time thing and you can guess what happened from there. Horner starting doing whatever he could for another fix, and Elsa turned to the one thing she still had, her looks. Eventually Horner caught the eye of Johnny Sixx, who gave him a place in his organization, providing Elsa go with him. By this point Elsa was pretty much a bombed out shell. High and addicted, she still had her looks and that's why Horner thought Sixx wanted her. I wasn't so sure. Something still stunk, and it wasn't Horner's fucking cologne. Sixx knew something, the last piece of a puzzle that was really starting to piss me off.
I had Annie phone in a tip to my old pal Mike from Horner's apartment and told the girl in red to beat it the fuck out of here. I left Horner tied up in his room and Annie and I split. We took the stairs down and I peeked out in the lobby to make sure it was all clear. I had already made a big enough mess of things upstairs, I couldn't afford to get busted now. We hopped in the car, Annie pushing me out of the way to drive.
I looked at Annie as she hit the accelerator and rocketed towards home. She was practically glowing, a fierce light in her eyes. This kind of shit really got her off, the adrenalin, the rush, the danger. Some people get scared and shut down, Annie, the fear makes her feel more alive. Fuck, all I felt was the need for a drink after this kind of stuff. Annie, hell, she was ready to fuck your brains out. Somehow, I think the most dangerous part of my night was still ahead.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 24
I freed my Beretta from its holster and loosened my arms as I approached A22. Some soreness had started to creep in, I still wasn't in the shape I needed to be to pull this kind of stuff off after that fight the other night, but frankly right now I was beyond caring. I took one more breath and kicked in the door to the apartment, watching the bits of wood shatter off the split hinges. Barrelling into the room, I saw one guy sitting at the coffee table with a huge pile of blow on the table. His pants were off and the girl in red sat at his knees. She let out a scream as she saw me but I hurtled the coach and slammed the pantless fuck into the pile of coke face first.
The girl in red opened her mouth to scream again but I pointed the Barret ta at her and told her to shut the fuck up. Her eyes went wide with fright, but she stayed quiet. Good. Pantless man was still stirring a bit so I rammed his head into the pile of coke again for good measure. Turning, I knew that Horner was in the bed room, and he was in their with Annie. I tucked the baton back inside my sleeve and walked to the bedroom door, slowly pushing it in while I kept low.
Horner was inside, his pants were off, clad just in his underwear and a button down shirt. He had Annie by the throat, a gleaming .45 in his hand. His wild black hair was standing on end, and I could see the red rim of his bloodshot eyes even from here. I caught Annie's gaze and nodded. No fucking way was this going down. I knew it could get hairy, but I;ll be fuck damned if he was gonna hurt her. He was screaming, asking who the fuck I was, and what the fuck I wanted. I wasn't paying attention, my eyes only for Annie. I told her it would be all right. I told her I wouldn't let her down. I told her I loved her. Then I told her it was time.
Annie brought the spiked heel of her knee length boots down onto Horner's bare foot and pushed herself forward. Horner cried out and fired, his shot going just wide, though I could feel the heat from the lead as it thudded into the door jamb beside me. I squeezed the Beretta once, feeling it buck in my hand, and heard the boom of the hammer fall onto the bullet before the floor length mirror behind Horner was flecked with blood. I had hit him high, in the shoulder. Annie was on him before I could get close, driving her boot hard into the wound. Her face was lit with a savage glow, god she was beautiful. I pulled her gently off of the whimpering fool, and locked eyes one more time, learning everything I needed to know from what I saw there. I smiled and looked down, telling Roger exactly want I wanted him to say.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
I freed my Beretta from its holster and loosened my arms as I approached A22. Some soreness had started to creep in, I still wasn't in the shape I needed to be to pull this kind of stuff off after that fight the other night, but frankly right now I was beyond caring. I took one more breath and kicked in the door to the apartment, watching the bits of wood shatter off the split hinges. Barrelling into the room, I saw one guy sitting at the coffee table with a huge pile of blow on the table. His pants were off and the girl in red sat at his knees. She let out a scream as she saw me but I hurtled the coach and slammed the pantless fuck into the pile of coke face first.
The girl in red opened her mouth to scream again but I pointed the Barret ta at her and told her to shut the fuck up. Her eyes went wide with fright, but she stayed quiet. Good. Pantless man was still stirring a bit so I rammed his head into the pile of coke again for good measure. Turning, I knew that Horner was in the bed room, and he was in their with Annie. I tucked the baton back inside my sleeve and walked to the bedroom door, slowly pushing it in while I kept low.
Horner was inside, his pants were off, clad just in his underwear and a button down shirt. He had Annie by the throat, a gleaming .45 in his hand. His wild black hair was standing on end, and I could see the red rim of his bloodshot eyes even from here. I caught Annie's gaze and nodded. No fucking way was this going down. I knew it could get hairy, but I;ll be fuck damned if he was gonna hurt her. He was screaming, asking who the fuck I was, and what the fuck I wanted. I wasn't paying attention, my eyes only for Annie. I told her it would be all right. I told her I wouldn't let her down. I told her I loved her. Then I told her it was time.
Annie brought the spiked heel of her knee length boots down onto Horner's bare foot and pushed herself forward. Horner cried out and fired, his shot going just wide, though I could feel the heat from the lead as it thudded into the door jamb beside me. I squeezed the Beretta once, feeling it buck in my hand, and heard the boom of the hammer fall onto the bullet before the floor length mirror behind Horner was flecked with blood. I had hit him high, in the shoulder. Annie was on him before I could get close, driving her boot hard into the wound. Her face was lit with a savage glow, god she was beautiful. I pulled her gently off of the whimpering fool, and locked eyes one more time, learning everything I needed to know from what I saw there. I smiled and looked down, telling Roger exactly want I wanted him to say.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 23
I lashed out with the baton, the metal un-collapsing in a blur beneath my sleeve. I caught the stooge across the jaw with a sickening crack and watched the blood spray against the door. I struck out again a second time, you know, just to be sure. The goon lay prone after the two hits and I pulled the keys out of his pocket, letting myself into the complex. I poked my head in and saw that no one was in the foyer, so I grabbed him by the collar and drug him in behind me. I could see the tattoo on his neck marking him as one of Sixx's boys and by default, marking this as one of Sixx's properties. Gonna have to stay on my toes. I muscles the goon into a storage closet and headed for the elevator, the baton still dripping blood behind me.
I thumbed the button for the elevator and stepped in, pressing the second floor key as the doors closed behind me. Th elevator starting rolling up and I tried to flex some of the soreness out of my arms and ribs, there was sure to be some rough housing ahead and I was gonna be damned if I wasn't up for this. I heard the door ping and watched it slid open, with two burly fucks waiting on the other side. Huge bastards in to small suits and necks that ended at their shoulders. Oh well, nothing worth doing is ever easy.
I brought the baton around across the first monkey's wrist, hearing the welcomes sounds of bones snapping. The second guy made a shot for my face, swiping his meat hook for my temple. Instead of backing out I stepped in to the punch. He scored a glancing blow to the back of my head, but nothing with any real force. That close I plunged my knee into his gut and brought the baton back around. The elevator was to small to get a good shot to I aimed low for his knee. After connecting I turned into a spin, rolling out the elevator door and into the hallway. I brought the baton into a brutal uppercut, catching the first guy unaware, still clutching his hand. His head snapped back and I saw his eyes go glossy in a spray of red. He tumbled into the elevator and I focused on the second guy, limping but ready for more. I struck out again with the baton, going high, but he forced his arm out to block the blow and came across with a counter punch from his left. This time I did move backward, throwing my whole body prone and reversing my momentum. His punch missed and I found myself on the floor, looking up at him.
I brought the heel of my shoe onto his toe and felt the heavy sole sink deep into the guys soft loafers. I then lashed out again at his knee. Once he groaned he lurched forward unsteadily and I rolled out, dragging the baton behind my body and catching it between his legs. One more pull and he fell forward, his legs twisted with the baton. I made one more lunge and cracked him in the jaw a couple of times until he didn't move anymore. Blood and bits of teeth still clung to my hand as I drug the two of them back into the elevator and clicked the emergency stop button, before levering shut the doors.
That just left one more matter. Beating the fuck out of Roger Horner.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
I lashed out with the baton, the metal un-collapsing in a blur beneath my sleeve. I caught the stooge across the jaw with a sickening crack and watched the blood spray against the door. I struck out again a second time, you know, just to be sure. The goon lay prone after the two hits and I pulled the keys out of his pocket, letting myself into the complex. I poked my head in and saw that no one was in the foyer, so I grabbed him by the collar and drug him in behind me. I could see the tattoo on his neck marking him as one of Sixx's boys and by default, marking this as one of Sixx's properties. Gonna have to stay on my toes. I muscles the goon into a storage closet and headed for the elevator, the baton still dripping blood behind me.
I thumbed the button for the elevator and stepped in, pressing the second floor key as the doors closed behind me. Th elevator starting rolling up and I tried to flex some of the soreness out of my arms and ribs, there was sure to be some rough housing ahead and I was gonna be damned if I wasn't up for this. I heard the door ping and watched it slid open, with two burly fucks waiting on the other side. Huge bastards in to small suits and necks that ended at their shoulders. Oh well, nothing worth doing is ever easy.
I brought the baton around across the first monkey's wrist, hearing the welcomes sounds of bones snapping. The second guy made a shot for my face, swiping his meat hook for my temple. Instead of backing out I stepped in to the punch. He scored a glancing blow to the back of my head, but nothing with any real force. That close I plunged my knee into his gut and brought the baton back around. The elevator was to small to get a good shot to I aimed low for his knee. After connecting I turned into a spin, rolling out the elevator door and into the hallway. I brought the baton into a brutal uppercut, catching the first guy unaware, still clutching his hand. His head snapped back and I saw his eyes go glossy in a spray of red. He tumbled into the elevator and I focused on the second guy, limping but ready for more. I struck out again with the baton, going high, but he forced his arm out to block the blow and came across with a counter punch from his left. This time I did move backward, throwing my whole body prone and reversing my momentum. His punch missed and I found myself on the floor, looking up at him.
I brought the heel of my shoe onto his toe and felt the heavy sole sink deep into the guys soft loafers. I then lashed out again at his knee. Once he groaned he lurched forward unsteadily and I rolled out, dragging the baton behind my body and catching it between his legs. One more pull and he fell forward, his legs twisted with the baton. I made one more lunge and cracked him in the jaw a couple of times until he didn't move anymore. Blood and bits of teeth still clung to my hand as I drug the two of them back into the elevator and clicked the emergency stop button, before levering shut the doors.
That just left one more matter. Beating the fuck out of Roger Horner.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 22
I followed Annie and Horner outside and stood beside our borrowed car. It was dark and there was still a hint of rain in the air, casting a dark shadow under the broken streetlight beneath where I was parked. I wanted a smoke, but I didn't want the attention the lighter would bring so I watched as he led her to his car. Annie held onto his arm, and I could hear the trace echoes of her laugh as they walked. Annie huddled beneath her dark coat, her boots clacking on the wet pavement, holding onto that piece of shit's arm.
Horner opened the door for her and the blond in the halter top, both sliding into the passenger side of his two seater. Horner had to be doing okay for himself driving a sweet ride like that, a sporty little red convertible that should have been stripped bare if it was left on this side of the Barrows. That marked Horner as a made man, someone known well enough in Sixx's group to warrant some measure of protection. He darted out of his spot as I slid the borrowed car out of park and began tailing him. I wasn't sure what was running through Annie's mind on that car. She was smart and tough, but Roger Horner was not a man I would want her fucking with.
I tailed the car, keeping my distance, but not letting him get out of sight. I watched the car slid into a parallel spot in front of a set of apartment buildings well outside of the Barrows. Seems my guess about Horner was right. This place was just beginning to see an urban renewal as was just the sort of trendy local an up and comer in the trade might take on. Close enough to the heart of the action to keep tabs on his business, but far enough outside to set himself apart. I slid the Dodge into a spot about a quarter mile down the road and watched in the rear view mirror as Horner, Annie, and the bimbo tittered and stumbled up the stairs. After they were inside, I got out of the car and lit a cigarette. Almost time. Almost.
After a few minutes, my cell beeped a number, A22. That was the apartment she was in with Horner. Time to make my play. I walked up to the building, eyeing the front door. One monkey in a black suit. Big son of a bitch too. I reached up the sleeve of my coat, feeling the weight and grip of the collapsible baton there. Still griping the baton, I walked up to the goon at the door and smiled, letting the butt of my smoke hang from my mouth, calmly asking to see Mr. Horner in room A22. I didn't wait to see if he objected.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
I followed Annie and Horner outside and stood beside our borrowed car. It was dark and there was still a hint of rain in the air, casting a dark shadow under the broken streetlight beneath where I was parked. I wanted a smoke, but I didn't want the attention the lighter would bring so I watched as he led her to his car. Annie held onto his arm, and I could hear the trace echoes of her laugh as they walked. Annie huddled beneath her dark coat, her boots clacking on the wet pavement, holding onto that piece of shit's arm.
Horner opened the door for her and the blond in the halter top, both sliding into the passenger side of his two seater. Horner had to be doing okay for himself driving a sweet ride like that, a sporty little red convertible that should have been stripped bare if it was left on this side of the Barrows. That marked Horner as a made man, someone known well enough in Sixx's group to warrant some measure of protection. He darted out of his spot as I slid the borrowed car out of park and began tailing him. I wasn't sure what was running through Annie's mind on that car. She was smart and tough, but Roger Horner was not a man I would want her fucking with.
I tailed the car, keeping my distance, but not letting him get out of sight. I watched the car slid into a parallel spot in front of a set of apartment buildings well outside of the Barrows. Seems my guess about Horner was right. This place was just beginning to see an urban renewal as was just the sort of trendy local an up and comer in the trade might take on. Close enough to the heart of the action to keep tabs on his business, but far enough outside to set himself apart. I slid the Dodge into a spot about a quarter mile down the road and watched in the rear view mirror as Horner, Annie, and the bimbo tittered and stumbled up the stairs. After they were inside, I got out of the car and lit a cigarette. Almost time. Almost.
After a few minutes, my cell beeped a number, A22. That was the apartment she was in with Horner. Time to make my play. I walked up to the building, eyeing the front door. One monkey in a black suit. Big son of a bitch too. I reached up the sleeve of my coat, feeling the weight and grip of the collapsible baton there. Still griping the baton, I walked up to the goon at the door and smiled, letting the butt of my smoke hang from my mouth, calmly asking to see Mr. Horner in room A22. I didn't wait to see if he objected.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
*Flash Fiction went up a day early today for a special post tomorrow*
Chapter 21
I leaned against the bar and tried my best to blend in. Normally this isn't a problem, I'm about as nondescript as you can get which certainly pays in my line of work. In this case though, I stuck out like a sore thumb. I crumpled my hat into my jacket pocket and pulled it tight around me covering up the sight of suit and tie beneath it. I ran my fingers through my wet hair and did my best to tousle it up, but my face still looked like hammered shit. I grabbed a beer from the bar and slunk back into the darkest corner I could find, though I kept my eyes locked on Annie.
I could tell she was in full work mode, the way she would rest her hand on one of their arms, the way she laughed and smiled whenever they said something. How she leaned towards them letting them take a peak at the goods , or the way she touched their shoulders and maintained connection. All tricks of her trade, tricks she knew well. I took a long pull from my beer every time she did one of them though, trying to settle the roil in my stomach that came from seeing her with those bastards. Still Annie knew how to take care of herself, so I sat back and waited, leaning as deep into the shadows as I could, and trying vainly to drown out the techno shit that droned endlessly on.
Horner and Sixx continued to party, surrounded by their body guards, throughout the night. Annie stayed at the table, though some girls came and left there were always 10 or so at the table. Annie knew the right buttons to push to stick around though, especially with Horner. I knew Johnny Sixx was the real deal between the two, Horner couldn't rate enough to get a couple of goons like that, Horner was trying to up his pay class. Annie stayed by his side though, flirting, kissing his neck, playing a part that I hated. She knew he was the easier target, stay close to him and we get our results. I knew one thing myself, I was gonna kick this guys ass before the night was out.
After several hours, and several beers for me, Sixx motioned for Horner to go. Several new guys had approached the table and I knew that this is who Sixx had to have been waiting for. Roger slinked off and while most of the girls stayed. Two did leave with Horner though, a tall blond in a red leather halter top and skirt with a black jacket, and Annie. Horner stopped by the bar, several feet from me and I caught Annie's eye, who gave me the slightest of nods. Horner spent a minute throwing back a couple of shots fro himself and the girls, then wrapped his arms around each of their waists and left the club. I waited a few seconds and followed. Annie had played her ole, now it was my turn.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Chapter 21
I leaned against the bar and tried my best to blend in. Normally this isn't a problem, I'm about as nondescript as you can get which certainly pays in my line of work. In this case though, I stuck out like a sore thumb. I crumpled my hat into my jacket pocket and pulled it tight around me covering up the sight of suit and tie beneath it. I ran my fingers through my wet hair and did my best to tousle it up, but my face still looked like hammered shit. I grabbed a beer from the bar and slunk back into the darkest corner I could find, though I kept my eyes locked on Annie.
I could tell she was in full work mode, the way she would rest her hand on one of their arms, the way she laughed and smiled whenever they said something. How she leaned towards them letting them take a peak at the goods , or the way she touched their shoulders and maintained connection. All tricks of her trade, tricks she knew well. I took a long pull from my beer every time she did one of them though, trying to settle the roil in my stomach that came from seeing her with those bastards. Still Annie knew how to take care of herself, so I sat back and waited, leaning as deep into the shadows as I could, and trying vainly to drown out the techno shit that droned endlessly on.
Horner and Sixx continued to party, surrounded by their body guards, throughout the night. Annie stayed at the table, though some girls came and left there were always 10 or so at the table. Annie knew the right buttons to push to stick around though, especially with Horner. I knew Johnny Sixx was the real deal between the two, Horner couldn't rate enough to get a couple of goons like that, Horner was trying to up his pay class. Annie stayed by his side though, flirting, kissing his neck, playing a part that I hated. She knew he was the easier target, stay close to him and we get our results. I knew one thing myself, I was gonna kick this guys ass before the night was out.
After several hours, and several beers for me, Sixx motioned for Horner to go. Several new guys had approached the table and I knew that this is who Sixx had to have been waiting for. Roger slinked off and while most of the girls stayed. Two did leave with Horner though, a tall blond in a red leather halter top and skirt with a black jacket, and Annie. Horner stopped by the bar, several feet from me and I caught Annie's eye, who gave me the slightest of nods. Horner spent a minute throwing back a couple of shots fro himself and the girls, then wrapped his arms around each of their waists and left the club. I waited a few seconds and followed. Annie had played her ole, now it was my turn.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 20
Annie had been inside the Zero Room for about 45 minutes. Things had seemed quiet so far. Annie had borrowed one of her girlfriends cars, an old sedan that had seen better days, but hell it beat waiting for a cab. I had parked just down the street from the club, close enough to watch the door but far enough back to not draw suspicion. We had agreed to give her one hour before meeting back up outside. I flicked out the butt of my smoke and lit up another one (I'd been chain smoking since Annie went inside) into the soft drizzle of rain outside.
It washed the water run in rivulets off the window, the streaks of month old dust and dirt pooling at the bottom of the glass. The rain trying to ash the filth off the car, off the city herself. Some places, like this one though, were simply to dirty to ever get clean again. I held my hand out into the gentle water fall, feeling the cool patter on my hand, wondering if that included me too.
I was jerked out of my reverie when my phone began buzzing. I thumbed open the screen, expecting the worst. It was a text message. From Annie. It simply read:
Sixx and Horner here. Come inside.- Annie
I rolled up the window of the car and got out. I pulled my trench coat around me and flipped up the collar, hat pulled low. This should cut down on the fact that my face looked like hammered meat right now. As I walked to the entrance I slipped my Beretta into the crotch of my pants, it wasn't comfortable but if the patted me down typically bouncers don't like to touch your balls. There was a line to get into the club but I walked around the velvet rope and told the guy to find my name on the list. I told him Franklin and slid two bills across the top of the clipboard. He smiled and gestured me through after a cursory pat down.
The music was blaring, some neo-electronic rave shit that I don't think I was ever young enough for and the patrons from the club looked like extras from a Mad Max movie. A mixture of leather and nylon, dark blacks and shocks of neon color, all writhing and grinding in a huddled mass. I skirted the dance floor and looked for Annie near the bar. I stood towards the end of the counter and fanned the crowd, looking for my Annie's distinctive shade of red in the common area. I was beginning to get worried when I finally found her. Then I got really worried. She was over in the private section, a series of tables and booths sectioned off and guarded by some heavy muscle. She was sitting at a table with several other people, mostly girls, laughing and flirting. It was the two guys at the table that had me worried. Johnny Sixx, and Roger fucking Horner himself.
I was gonna need a drink for this shit.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Annie had been inside the Zero Room for about 45 minutes. Things had seemed quiet so far. Annie had borrowed one of her girlfriends cars, an old sedan that had seen better days, but hell it beat waiting for a cab. I had parked just down the street from the club, close enough to watch the door but far enough back to not draw suspicion. We had agreed to give her one hour before meeting back up outside. I flicked out the butt of my smoke and lit up another one (I'd been chain smoking since Annie went inside) into the soft drizzle of rain outside.
It washed the water run in rivulets off the window, the streaks of month old dust and dirt pooling at the bottom of the glass. The rain trying to ash the filth off the car, off the city herself. Some places, like this one though, were simply to dirty to ever get clean again. I held my hand out into the gentle water fall, feeling the cool patter on my hand, wondering if that included me too.
I was jerked out of my reverie when my phone began buzzing. I thumbed open the screen, expecting the worst. It was a text message. From Annie. It simply read:
Sixx and Horner here. Come inside.- Annie
I rolled up the window of the car and got out. I pulled my trench coat around me and flipped up the collar, hat pulled low. This should cut down on the fact that my face looked like hammered meat right now. As I walked to the entrance I slipped my Beretta into the crotch of my pants, it wasn't comfortable but if the patted me down typically bouncers don't like to touch your balls. There was a line to get into the club but I walked around the velvet rope and told the guy to find my name on the list. I told him Franklin and slid two bills across the top of the clipboard. He smiled and gestured me through after a cursory pat down.
The music was blaring, some neo-electronic rave shit that I don't think I was ever young enough for and the patrons from the club looked like extras from a Mad Max movie. A mixture of leather and nylon, dark blacks and shocks of neon color, all writhing and grinding in a huddled mass. I skirted the dance floor and looked for Annie near the bar. I stood towards the end of the counter and fanned the crowd, looking for my Annie's distinctive shade of red in the common area. I was beginning to get worried when I finally found her. Then I got really worried. She was over in the private section, a series of tables and booths sectioned off and guarded by some heavy muscle. She was sitting at a table with several other people, mostly girls, laughing and flirting. It was the two guys at the table that had me worried. Johnny Sixx, and Roger fucking Horner himself.
I was gonna need a drink for this shit.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Sunday, October 04, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 19
The next morning I felt like six kinds of weak old shit. The anti-inflammatories had cut down on the swelling around my eye, but it was still black and blue. Annie'd reset my nose as well after the pain meds had kicked in too so breathing was a lot easier. The purplish bruising along my side had taken on a yellow hue and was tender as fuck so we had wrapped them up in some bandages. My movements had sure slowed down but at least I was up and about again.
Annie cooked me some breakfast and peppered me with questions about what I was gonna do next. She didn't say anything stupid about how the case was to dangerous or that I was in over my head, for which I was grateful. Annie didn't pull any of that kind of shit. She knew who I was still deep down, maybe that was why she stuck with me. She had however, insisted on checking out the Zero Room tonight and casing the place. I had argued with her about it, that it was to dangerous, but she had made to many good points. She could check the place out without arising any suspicion and see if she spotted Johnny Sixx or Roger Horner, or maybe even Elsa herself before I went in.
I wasn't happy about it, but I knew she was gonna do what she wanted to no matter how much I fought it and frankly I was to fucking tired and sore to argue. That afternoon I spent some time finding some pictures of Sixx out of my old case files for Annie to study. I also let her look at the copies of pics I had of Elsa and Horner so she was ready. Annie wasn't some rookie kid, she had grown up on the streets and knew how to handle herself in tough situations. She wouldn't make obvious mistakes. Still, I went over with her the best way to phrase questions and told her what to keep an eye out for. Lastly I programmed her cell phone to speed dial me by pressing the number one. If she got into any trouble, I could make a move.
Later that night Annie got ready to hit the club. The Zero Room was located on the edge of the Burrow. Just on the fringe of the warren to be dangerous, but not so deep within to scare everyone off. The place rocked an underground rave scene, a mixture of electronic punk dance that I was to old for but where Anne would fit right in. She was wearing knee length black boots and a leather mini skirt and jacket. Her blood red tank top plunged deeply in the front, showing off her breasts and the tattoo's that spread over the front of her chest. She wore enough chains and spikes to fit in at an S & M festival to boot. Frankly, she looked perfect.
We made our way downstairs to catch a cab, and little did I know that after tonight, our relationship would change forever.
The next morning I felt like six kinds of weak old shit. The anti-inflammatories had cut down on the swelling around my eye, but it was still black and blue. Annie'd reset my nose as well after the pain meds had kicked in too so breathing was a lot easier. The purplish bruising along my side had taken on a yellow hue and was tender as fuck so we had wrapped them up in some bandages. My movements had sure slowed down but at least I was up and about again.
Annie cooked me some breakfast and peppered me with questions about what I was gonna do next. She didn't say anything stupid about how the case was to dangerous or that I was in over my head, for which I was grateful. Annie didn't pull any of that kind of shit. She knew who I was still deep down, maybe that was why she stuck with me. She had however, insisted on checking out the Zero Room tonight and casing the place. I had argued with her about it, that it was to dangerous, but she had made to many good points. She could check the place out without arising any suspicion and see if she spotted Johnny Sixx or Roger Horner, or maybe even Elsa herself before I went in.
I wasn't happy about it, but I knew she was gonna do what she wanted to no matter how much I fought it and frankly I was to fucking tired and sore to argue. That afternoon I spent some time finding some pictures of Sixx out of my old case files for Annie to study. I also let her look at the copies of pics I had of Elsa and Horner so she was ready. Annie wasn't some rookie kid, she had grown up on the streets and knew how to handle herself in tough situations. She wouldn't make obvious mistakes. Still, I went over with her the best way to phrase questions and told her what to keep an eye out for. Lastly I programmed her cell phone to speed dial me by pressing the number one. If she got into any trouble, I could make a move.
Later that night Annie got ready to hit the club. The Zero Room was located on the edge of the Burrow. Just on the fringe of the warren to be dangerous, but not so deep within to scare everyone off. The place rocked an underground rave scene, a mixture of electronic punk dance that I was to old for but where Anne would fit right in. She was wearing knee length black boots and a leather mini skirt and jacket. Her blood red tank top plunged deeply in the front, showing off her breasts and the tattoo's that spread over the front of her chest. She wore enough chains and spikes to fit in at an S & M festival to boot. Frankly, she looked perfect.
We made our way downstairs to catch a cab, and little did I know that after tonight, our relationship would change forever.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 18
After the cab arrived I told him to head back to Annie's place. I threw an extra $20 and told him to make good time. He gave me a dirty look as I got in though, no doubt looking over my swollen eye and broken nose, along with a shirt covered in blood and wondered if he was making the right choice. After I threw up the money though he dropped the meter and took off. We only made one pit stop, at a pharmacy where I loaded up on smokes, a bottle, and some fresh medical supplies, before arriving at Annie's place.
I checked my watch and noted that it was not quite 11:30 yet, a few hours before Annie would be off. I breathed a small sign of relief in the fact that I could try to clean up better and maybe dissuade the inevitable shit storm that Annie would have at my appearance. I walked up the stairs to Annie's place and got out my key, sliding it in and popping open the door. I set my things on the counter and gingerly shrug out of my coat. I was reaching for a glass out of the sink when the bathroom door opened, and Annie came out wearing just a towel. Shit.
She took one look at my face and ran over, running her fingers gently over the wounds and telling me that I needed a hospital in between a litany of curse words so blue that it would make Scarface himself blush. She ushered me into the bathroom and helped me get my shirt off. I watched as tears formed in the corners of her eyes as she looked at the trail of black and purple welts that ran along my side. I told her that I was okay, but that just pissed her off more so I let her yell at me and minister my wounds. I winced as she dabbed alcohol on my eye and nose, cleaning them with a gentle touch. It always amazed me how someone who looked so hard and tough, was so soft inside when she let it show.
After 20 minutes of doting, she ran a hot bath and helped me off with my pants. I could have done it I'm sure, but this was another one of those times I instinctively knew to let her stay in charge. She told me to soak in the tub and after a few minutes, she came in with a glass of scotch and a handful of pain medication, the good stuff apparently. I looked at her as she set them on the bathroom sink, the towel had grown a little loose around her and a bit more of her breasts appeared out of the top than before. I could see her tattoo's glisten with a slight sheen and smell her shampoo whenever she got close. This was one of the moments that always made us come closer, saving the other person. I took the pills she gave me and downed the contents of the glass in one shot, feeling that splendid warm burn at the back of my throat. As Annie placed the glass on the sink, her back to me, I reached out and pulled her back into the tub. She landed with a yelp of surprise and a stifled curse as I gently kissed her lips, muttering softly about how lucky I was to love someone like her.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
After the cab arrived I told him to head back to Annie's place. I threw an extra $20 and told him to make good time. He gave me a dirty look as I got in though, no doubt looking over my swollen eye and broken nose, along with a shirt covered in blood and wondered if he was making the right choice. After I threw up the money though he dropped the meter and took off. We only made one pit stop, at a pharmacy where I loaded up on smokes, a bottle, and some fresh medical supplies, before arriving at Annie's place.
I checked my watch and noted that it was not quite 11:30 yet, a few hours before Annie would be off. I breathed a small sign of relief in the fact that I could try to clean up better and maybe dissuade the inevitable shit storm that Annie would have at my appearance. I walked up the stairs to Annie's place and got out my key, sliding it in and popping open the door. I set my things on the counter and gingerly shrug out of my coat. I was reaching for a glass out of the sink when the bathroom door opened, and Annie came out wearing just a towel. Shit.
She took one look at my face and ran over, running her fingers gently over the wounds and telling me that I needed a hospital in between a litany of curse words so blue that it would make Scarface himself blush. She ushered me into the bathroom and helped me get my shirt off. I watched as tears formed in the corners of her eyes as she looked at the trail of black and purple welts that ran along my side. I told her that I was okay, but that just pissed her off more so I let her yell at me and minister my wounds. I winced as she dabbed alcohol on my eye and nose, cleaning them with a gentle touch. It always amazed me how someone who looked so hard and tough, was so soft inside when she let it show.
After 20 minutes of doting, she ran a hot bath and helped me off with my pants. I could have done it I'm sure, but this was another one of those times I instinctively knew to let her stay in charge. She told me to soak in the tub and after a few minutes, she came in with a glass of scotch and a handful of pain medication, the good stuff apparently. I looked at her as she set them on the bathroom sink, the towel had grown a little loose around her and a bit more of her breasts appeared out of the top than before. I could see her tattoo's glisten with a slight sheen and smell her shampoo whenever she got close. This was one of the moments that always made us come closer, saving the other person. I took the pills she gave me and downed the contents of the glass in one shot, feeling that splendid warm burn at the back of my throat. As Annie placed the glass on the sink, her back to me, I reached out and pulled her back into the tub. She landed with a yelp of surprise and a stifled curse as I gently kissed her lips, muttering softly about how lucky I was to love someone like her.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 17
I kept my gun pointed at the two goons in the alley. One lay on the floor clutching his ruined eye, the other staring bolts of lightning from his. I didn't waver, or at least tried to look I wasn't. I couldn't see out of one eye and my face and chest were more bruised than a week old banana. Still I tired to play it up, pretend I wasn't hurt that bad. I spit out a huge wad of blood and saliva, and ran my tongue over my teeth assuring myself that they were all still there. It was hard to breath, my nose broken and all, but I could fake it for a few more minutes.
I stalked closer to the one on the ground and laid my boots into the side of his head as hard as I could. He let out a scream but in this part of town, that didn't mean shit. I kicked him a few more times to be sure he was out, and stepped closer to the goon still moving, though as I stepped closer, slowly sunk to his knees. I walked right up to him and put the cold barrel of my Beretta against his forehead. I could see the first tell tale signs of a cold sweat appear on his brow, and he anxiously licked his lips. I pulled back the hammer on the gun and calmly told him that if he didn't answer the questions I asked, I'd show him what a .22 caliber bullet could do at this range.
I asked him about Elsa Lomack and Roger Horner. Who they worked for, and why they wanted me out of the picture. About who he worked for and what he knew. Which sadly wasn't alot. Apparently the club's owner was friends with Ricky Sixx, one of the major dealers in the last few years. Back when I was on Vice, Sixx was one of the up and comers in the business, though we could never pin anything on him. Always thought he had connections somewhere along the line, and it was digging into that that eventually cost me my job there. Sixx had told the owner that if anyone came looking for Horner of Lomack, he was to take them out, and bring the info to him, though my boy here didn't know where to find him. I told him that he had done a good job, then smacked the handle of the gun against his skull, knocking him out.
I limped down the alley and down the street. I wasn't a cold blooded killer, and leaving those two alive may flush Ricky out to me. Worse case, I still had that lead at The Zero Room to follow up on. Still it had been a shit day and I wanted to go home. I limped two blocks down the street and into one of those pay by the hour hotels. I paid for an hour, ignoring the looks the clerk gave at my appearance and telling him to mind his own damn business, and went into the room he had given me. In the room I called a cab to pick me up in thirty minutes, because finding one in the Barrow was gonna be fuckin' impossible at this time of night, especially looking like I did. I spent a few minutes admiring the bouncers handiwork in the mirror, and tried to clean myself up enough to make it home. I stopped the bleeding and cleaned up my eye and nose as best (and gingerly) as I could. I spent the last few minutes sitting on the end of my bed smoking a cigarette, ignoring the pain each time I inhaled through my split lip. Annie was gonna be pissed.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
I kept my gun pointed at the two goons in the alley. One lay on the floor clutching his ruined eye, the other staring bolts of lightning from his. I didn't waver, or at least tried to look I wasn't. I couldn't see out of one eye and my face and chest were more bruised than a week old banana. Still I tired to play it up, pretend I wasn't hurt that bad. I spit out a huge wad of blood and saliva, and ran my tongue over my teeth assuring myself that they were all still there. It was hard to breath, my nose broken and all, but I could fake it for a few more minutes.
I stalked closer to the one on the ground and laid my boots into the side of his head as hard as I could. He let out a scream but in this part of town, that didn't mean shit. I kicked him a few more times to be sure he was out, and stepped closer to the goon still moving, though as I stepped closer, slowly sunk to his knees. I walked right up to him and put the cold barrel of my Beretta against his forehead. I could see the first tell tale signs of a cold sweat appear on his brow, and he anxiously licked his lips. I pulled back the hammer on the gun and calmly told him that if he didn't answer the questions I asked, I'd show him what a .22 caliber bullet could do at this range.
I asked him about Elsa Lomack and Roger Horner. Who they worked for, and why they wanted me out of the picture. About who he worked for and what he knew. Which sadly wasn't alot. Apparently the club's owner was friends with Ricky Sixx, one of the major dealers in the last few years. Back when I was on Vice, Sixx was one of the up and comers in the business, though we could never pin anything on him. Always thought he had connections somewhere along the line, and it was digging into that that eventually cost me my job there. Sixx had told the owner that if anyone came looking for Horner of Lomack, he was to take them out, and bring the info to him, though my boy here didn't know where to find him. I told him that he had done a good job, then smacked the handle of the gun against his skull, knocking him out.
I limped down the alley and down the street. I wasn't a cold blooded killer, and leaving those two alive may flush Ricky out to me. Worse case, I still had that lead at The Zero Room to follow up on. Still it had been a shit day and I wanted to go home. I limped two blocks down the street and into one of those pay by the hour hotels. I paid for an hour, ignoring the looks the clerk gave at my appearance and telling him to mind his own damn business, and went into the room he had given me. In the room I called a cab to pick me up in thirty minutes, because finding one in the Barrow was gonna be fuckin' impossible at this time of night, especially looking like I did. I spent a few minutes admiring the bouncers handiwork in the mirror, and tried to clean myself up enough to make it home. I stopped the bleeding and cleaned up my eye and nose as best (and gingerly) as I could. I spent the last few minutes sitting on the end of my bed smoking a cigarette, ignoring the pain each time I inhaled through my split lip. Annie was gonna be pissed.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 16
STUPID! STUPID! I'd let my guard down and now the fucking bouncer had me by the scruff of my neck. He jerked hard and I tipped over the back of the couch and hung by my neck against the wall. Kitty tumbled to the side, legs spread so far apart you could almost see out her throat. She hit the ground hard with a thud, but I still couldn't get an angle on the guy who had me, his sweaty grip was like a vice. I started to twist, but the second bouncer rounded the corner and entered the cubicle. He was a huge mother fucker, all muscle and no neck, with black eyes that almost seemed cut into his face. He reared back one meat hook and socked me so hard in the gut I lost my breath. He clocked me again across the jaw and I saw stars. A third punch and I felt one of my eyes swell shut.
The guy who had me by the neck let me go and I hit fell against the back of the upturned couch. I watched blearily from my good eye as the second bouncer laid a few boots into Kitty as she lay crumpled on the floor. She cried out after the first one, but a few harder kicks later and she didn't say a word. Just curled herself into a ball and whimpered. I tried to suck in a few breaths to get some feeling back in my chest, I knew these guys weren't quite done yet. I'd obviously hit a nerve, a nerve that was about to hit back.
The first bouncer came around the cubicle and pulled me up by the collar, I thought about going for my gun, but I couldn't get my head clear fast enough before he introduced his fist to my face. I felt my nose crunch and tasted something dark and coppery as he pulled my head back by the hair and asked me why I was lookin' for Elsa Lomack. I smiled, the blood stained between my teeth, and spit. Probably not the smartest move, as it pissed him off good and he rear back and knocked me again. My eye, still tender and puffy, split and I cried out as I hit the ground. He grabbed me and pulled me up by the shoulders. The second goon grabbed my legs and the two carried me out the back entrance.
The back alley reeked of piss and shit and old garbage as the two pushed me up against the wall. One screamed at me, asking me question, while the other held me up, peppering my gut with punches. I didn't say anything, just tried to draw my breath and wait for the chance. After a few minutes my chance came. Good one wanted a shot at me again, and they switched. I was tired, and hurt, and my left eye was wrecked, but I knew that it was now or never. I snapped out with my forehead, headbutting the second bouncer when his face was turned. I brought my left hand up and flexed a single rigid finger, and jammed it stiffly into the eye of goon one. He yelped in pain as I brought my right arm around, holding my gun. I pointed at the two bouncers, one laying on the ground clutching his bleeding eye, and the other who was picking himself off the ground, wiping blood from his forehead.
Now these fuckers were gonna answer my questions.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
STUPID! STUPID! I'd let my guard down and now the fucking bouncer had me by the scruff of my neck. He jerked hard and I tipped over the back of the couch and hung by my neck against the wall. Kitty tumbled to the side, legs spread so far apart you could almost see out her throat. She hit the ground hard with a thud, but I still couldn't get an angle on the guy who had me, his sweaty grip was like a vice. I started to twist, but the second bouncer rounded the corner and entered the cubicle. He was a huge mother fucker, all muscle and no neck, with black eyes that almost seemed cut into his face. He reared back one meat hook and socked me so hard in the gut I lost my breath. He clocked me again across the jaw and I saw stars. A third punch and I felt one of my eyes swell shut.
The guy who had me by the neck let me go and I hit fell against the back of the upturned couch. I watched blearily from my good eye as the second bouncer laid a few boots into Kitty as she lay crumpled on the floor. She cried out after the first one, but a few harder kicks later and she didn't say a word. Just curled herself into a ball and whimpered. I tried to suck in a few breaths to get some feeling back in my chest, I knew these guys weren't quite done yet. I'd obviously hit a nerve, a nerve that was about to hit back.
The first bouncer came around the cubicle and pulled me up by the collar, I thought about going for my gun, but I couldn't get my head clear fast enough before he introduced his fist to my face. I felt my nose crunch and tasted something dark and coppery as he pulled my head back by the hair and asked me why I was lookin' for Elsa Lomack. I smiled, the blood stained between my teeth, and spit. Probably not the smartest move, as it pissed him off good and he rear back and knocked me again. My eye, still tender and puffy, split and I cried out as I hit the ground. He grabbed me and pulled me up by the shoulders. The second goon grabbed my legs and the two carried me out the back entrance.
The back alley reeked of piss and shit and old garbage as the two pushed me up against the wall. One screamed at me, asking me question, while the other held me up, peppering my gut with punches. I didn't say anything, just tried to draw my breath and wait for the chance. After a few minutes my chance came. Good one wanted a shot at me again, and they switched. I was tired, and hurt, and my left eye was wrecked, but I knew that it was now or never. I snapped out with my forehead, headbutting the second bouncer when his face was turned. I brought my left hand up and flexed a single rigid finger, and jammed it stiffly into the eye of goon one. He yelped in pain as I brought my right arm around, holding my gun. I pointed at the two bouncers, one laying on the ground clutching his bleeding eye, and the other who was picking himself off the ground, wiping blood from his forehead.
Now these fuckers were gonna answer my questions.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 15
Kitty recovered quickly, I'll give her that. Those wide green eyes quickly hooded themselves back into a look that at one time screamed wanting, but now just made her look a bit uninteresting. She continued to grind on my lap but murmured that she didn't know what I was talking about. I slipped a few extra bills from the fold in my shirt sleeve that I'd stashed prior to the dance and waved them in front of me, promises to make it worth her while. I could see the conflict in her mind, the wave of $100's in front of her was probably more than she would make all night, but still something made her nervous. I told her I'd throw in a few more bills, after all I had a pretty fat expense account, and she agreed.
I followed her back to the private show floor. It was sectioned off by a big black wall and broken into smaller booth, almost like cubicles. Each one had a dingy black sofa and a single bulb muted by a black shade. Kitty slipped the bouncer some cash and placed our drink order, another longneck for me, and some kind of cocktail that had more fruit in it that I'd had in the last year. I settled back into the chair as Kitty pulled up beside me. The music wasn't as loud back here, but at least I could hear Kitty's voice over the faded din of rap music in the background. We didn't say anything until the drinks showed up, but I watched Kitty drain most of hers in one big gulp.
I waited patiently as the next song started and Kitty re-mounted me. She whispered into my ear that they had cameras back here and she needed to keep up the part. I nodded and put a soft smile on, playing my role. I told her who I was and who had told me to ask for her. She nodded, her head dipping towards my crotch, who so far seemed to be taking all that grinding in stride. I filled her in on what I was doing in low tones and what I waned from her, if she could help.
She looked up and at me and sat on my lap, I could feel her hot breath on my neck and she whispered into my ear, telling me what she knew about Elsa Lomack. I slid the money down into the top of her boot as she told me what she knew. Mostly that Elsa hadn't been here in the last month and most of the muscle that ran the place had told the girls not to ask about it. She had been dancing here a while, but the drugs and abuse where starting to show on her body. Her boyfriend, which I knew was Horner, had been working some bigger deals and kept telling everyone at the club that he was gonna be a rich man soon. She told me about a bar he hung out at when he wasn't stirring up trouble around here, The Zero Room. She was just about to tell me more about Elsa when I felt a big meaty hand grab the back of my jacket and pull.
This wasn't gonna be good.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Kitty recovered quickly, I'll give her that. Those wide green eyes quickly hooded themselves back into a look that at one time screamed wanting, but now just made her look a bit uninteresting. She continued to grind on my lap but murmured that she didn't know what I was talking about. I slipped a few extra bills from the fold in my shirt sleeve that I'd stashed prior to the dance and waved them in front of me, promises to make it worth her while. I could see the conflict in her mind, the wave of $100's in front of her was probably more than she would make all night, but still something made her nervous. I told her I'd throw in a few more bills, after all I had a pretty fat expense account, and she agreed.
I followed her back to the private show floor. It was sectioned off by a big black wall and broken into smaller booth, almost like cubicles. Each one had a dingy black sofa and a single bulb muted by a black shade. Kitty slipped the bouncer some cash and placed our drink order, another longneck for me, and some kind of cocktail that had more fruit in it that I'd had in the last year. I settled back into the chair as Kitty pulled up beside me. The music wasn't as loud back here, but at least I could hear Kitty's voice over the faded din of rap music in the background. We didn't say anything until the drinks showed up, but I watched Kitty drain most of hers in one big gulp.
I waited patiently as the next song started and Kitty re-mounted me. She whispered into my ear that they had cameras back here and she needed to keep up the part. I nodded and put a soft smile on, playing my role. I told her who I was and who had told me to ask for her. She nodded, her head dipping towards my crotch, who so far seemed to be taking all that grinding in stride. I filled her in on what I was doing in low tones and what I waned from her, if she could help.
She looked up and at me and sat on my lap, I could feel her hot breath on my neck and she whispered into my ear, telling me what she knew about Elsa Lomack. I slid the money down into the top of her boot as she told me what she knew. Mostly that Elsa hadn't been here in the last month and most of the muscle that ran the place had told the girls not to ask about it. She had been dancing here a while, but the drugs and abuse where starting to show on her body. Her boyfriend, which I knew was Horner, had been working some bigger deals and kept telling everyone at the club that he was gonna be a rich man soon. She told me about a bar he hung out at when he wasn't stirring up trouble around here, The Zero Room. She was just about to tell me more about Elsa when I felt a big meaty hand grab the back of my jacket and pull.
This wasn't gonna be good.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Sunday, August 09, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 14
I sat in the corner of the club and tried unsuccessfully to nurse my beer and not chain smoke. Something about this place had my gut in a broil, but I still didn't have any leads. I tried to get a good lay of the club as I sat there, both exits, plus one I figured back through the girls changing areas. I eyeballed both bouncers over, huge mother fuckers to be sure, but I didn't see any bulges beneath their suits that would indicate they were packing either so that was a relief.
I checked out the girls as well. Annie wasn't kidding when she said that the girls at this club worked the hard life. A lot of them wore long gloves or sleeves to cover the track marks, some of them didn't even care about that. You could see that glassy dead look as they twisted and grinded through the motions, scooping up the dollars at the end of the set with a nearly frantic urge, just that much closer to another hit. On the floor side nearly anything was possible, depending on the girl you picked. Anything from a hand job to out right fucking was offered for the right amount of cash. These girls were walking the edge of the burnout, and we were just here to watch the ride.
I had drank 3 beers and was nearly out of smokes before they called Kitty's name on the floor. The DJ had that same sleazy, deep baritone that every club announcer has, and I watched Kitty take the stage. She came from behind the revolving mirror on the stage that led to the dressing room. She wore a sexy cat suit, a leopard spotted bikini with an attached tail and tall matching spiked boots that went nearly to her knee. She had on a pair of cat ears nestled into the tangle of bleach blond hair. I waited until she started her routine, trying to drone out the incessant 80's hair metal being churned out, to move closer to the stage. I pulled out a wad of singles and started peppering the stage to get her attention. Whether she knew Annie or not, a little bribe never hurts in the long run.
I stood there as she danced and waited until she leaned her head near mine, trailing her hair over my face and whispered to meet me after her act. She didn't say anything but she smiled, as I dropped a few more singles and returned to my seat. I watched her finish her set and drained the last of my beer as she slinked towards me. She got close and pulled up a seat on my lap, and I could smell the the tell tale signs of perfume, baby powder, sweat, and beneath that, desperation, that so many girls faced. She leaned in close, whispering promises in my ear, of the things that she could do to me if the price was right. I leaned back and whispered that I had some questions about Elsa Lomack, and then watched her eyes go wide with fright.
Bingo.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
I sat in the corner of the club and tried unsuccessfully to nurse my beer and not chain smoke. Something about this place had my gut in a broil, but I still didn't have any leads. I tried to get a good lay of the club as I sat there, both exits, plus one I figured back through the girls changing areas. I eyeballed both bouncers over, huge mother fuckers to be sure, but I didn't see any bulges beneath their suits that would indicate they were packing either so that was a relief.
I checked out the girls as well. Annie wasn't kidding when she said that the girls at this club worked the hard life. A lot of them wore long gloves or sleeves to cover the track marks, some of them didn't even care about that. You could see that glassy dead look as they twisted and grinded through the motions, scooping up the dollars at the end of the set with a nearly frantic urge, just that much closer to another hit. On the floor side nearly anything was possible, depending on the girl you picked. Anything from a hand job to out right fucking was offered for the right amount of cash. These girls were walking the edge of the burnout, and we were just here to watch the ride.
I had drank 3 beers and was nearly out of smokes before they called Kitty's name on the floor. The DJ had that same sleazy, deep baritone that every club announcer has, and I watched Kitty take the stage. She came from behind the revolving mirror on the stage that led to the dressing room. She wore a sexy cat suit, a leopard spotted bikini with an attached tail and tall matching spiked boots that went nearly to her knee. She had on a pair of cat ears nestled into the tangle of bleach blond hair. I waited until she started her routine, trying to drone out the incessant 80's hair metal being churned out, to move closer to the stage. I pulled out a wad of singles and started peppering the stage to get her attention. Whether she knew Annie or not, a little bribe never hurts in the long run.
I stood there as she danced and waited until she leaned her head near mine, trailing her hair over my face and whispered to meet me after her act. She didn't say anything but she smiled, as I dropped a few more singles and returned to my seat. I watched her finish her set and drained the last of my beer as she slinked towards me. She got close and pulled up a seat on my lap, and I could smell the the tell tale signs of perfume, baby powder, sweat, and beneath that, desperation, that so many girls faced. She leaned in close, whispering promises in my ear, of the things that she could do to me if the price was right. I leaned back and whispered that I had some questions about Elsa Lomack, and then watched her eyes go wide with fright.
Bingo.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Sunday, August 02, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 13
I tossed the wad of cash into the passenger seat and got out of the cab. It was still mid day and overcast, but it always seemed that much darker in the Burrow. I watched the cabbie drive away as I pulled my collar a bit tighter around my neck. My first stop was a once over of the burnt out tenement that was Horner's last known address. I didn't really expect to find any answers, but I needed to start at the beginning.
I spent half an hour rooting through the place. The police file said the place had burnt down over faulty wiring and there wasn't much left. Nothing of value that had survived the fire had long been swiped by looters, and the place was in such bad shape that even squatters didn't stay here. I riffled through the litter and the remains in the room, but came up fruitless. Eventually I decided to check out my next lead, my last lead, at Sin's Castle.
Sin's was a rough joint. I had told Annie about the lead on the way home last night and she had tipped me off to a contact there, a girl she had once worked with named Kitty. Sin's was about a 15 minute walk from the tenement and even though I wanted to take a cab, I had fat chance of one stopping for me in this neighborhood. Cabbies know better than to pick up fares around here. Still, it was early enough that I wasn't to concerned. I made the walk in 10 minutes, but found the club closed. They didn't open until 5. I walked across the street and grabbed some coffee and a sandwich at a greasy diner that had seen better days.
I watched the club as I nursed my cup and fired up my cigarettes in succession. People started showing up around 4:30, but I waited until nearly 6:30 before heading over. My breath was heavy with nicotine and caffeine as I walked over. I discreetly slid my gun into the small of my back in class one of the bouncers patted me down. I wasn't worried about it really, at a place like the Castle, a weapon may have been the least of your worries. I showed my license and paid my cover before heading in, before heading towards an ass kicking that I wouldn't soon forget.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
I tossed the wad of cash into the passenger seat and got out of the cab. It was still mid day and overcast, but it always seemed that much darker in the Burrow. I watched the cabbie drive away as I pulled my collar a bit tighter around my neck. My first stop was a once over of the burnt out tenement that was Horner's last known address. I didn't really expect to find any answers, but I needed to start at the beginning.
I spent half an hour rooting through the place. The police file said the place had burnt down over faulty wiring and there wasn't much left. Nothing of value that had survived the fire had long been swiped by looters, and the place was in such bad shape that even squatters didn't stay here. I riffled through the litter and the remains in the room, but came up fruitless. Eventually I decided to check out my next lead, my last lead, at Sin's Castle.
Sin's was a rough joint. I had told Annie about the lead on the way home last night and she had tipped me off to a contact there, a girl she had once worked with named Kitty. Sin's was about a 15 minute walk from the tenement and even though I wanted to take a cab, I had fat chance of one stopping for me in this neighborhood. Cabbies know better than to pick up fares around here. Still, it was early enough that I wasn't to concerned. I made the walk in 10 minutes, but found the club closed. They didn't open until 5. I walked across the street and grabbed some coffee and a sandwich at a greasy diner that had seen better days.
I watched the club as I nursed my cup and fired up my cigarettes in succession. People started showing up around 4:30, but I waited until nearly 6:30 before heading over. My breath was heavy with nicotine and caffeine as I walked over. I discreetly slid my gun into the small of my back in class one of the bouncers patted me down. I wasn't worried about it really, at a place like the Castle, a weapon may have been the least of your worries. I showed my license and paid my cover before heading in, before heading towards an ass kicking that I wouldn't soon forget.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 12
I rolled out of bed and wiped the sleep from my eyes, a sort of a dry crust that came from too much booze and too much sweat. Annie was still asleep beside me, clutching a pillow with a faint soft snore. After the attack at the club, Annie and I had ducked out early and made our way home. Annie had been nearly wild last night, my back still a mess of teeth and nail marks. But it had been incredible. Annie always did get turned on when I beat the shit out of someone, it was the one surefire way to get her to forget about being mad at me. I leaned over and kissed her on the neck softly, and got up.
I took a quick shower, washing off the smell of Annie and the alcohol of the night before and changed into one of the clean suits I kept here. A little less threadbare than the last, with dark pleated pants and a dark jacket. I ran my hand over the growth on my face and left it alone, the stubble still not so bad I needed to drag out my razor. I drained the last of the orange juice out of the fridge and set the coffee on as I burnt some eggs for the both of us. I left out Annie's plate and fixed myself some coffee as I ate. The coffee was hot and black an I decided against spiking it and instead tossed a fistful of aspirin down my throat. It was far to damn early for me to be working, yet I knew I had a case to crack.
I gently woke Annie and told her I'd left breakfast and that I'd be back later tonight. I was gonna sniff around my perps last known address and see what I could dig up. I slid my gun under my shoulder and dropped my cell into my pocket and headed down stairs to hail a cab. I got one after a few minutes, the weather was cold and drizzly and I was glad I had my coat with me. I gave the cabbie the address Mike had given me and settled into the back sink with my smokes.
It was a long, uneventful car ride. It seems our boy Roger and Elsa had holed up in the Burrows, a section of the city over run with drugs, robbery and murder. I knew it fairly well as I had done a bit of my beat time in here, as well as from my days in Vice. You could find anything you wanted in the Burrows, if you know who and how to ask. The file I had briefed had been pretty bare, but that nagging feeling was there. The Burrows was the hardest of the hard places, I mean my neighborhood wasn't the fucking Ritz, but you had to have some real balls to live in the Burrow. I was beginning to think that I maybe, just maybe, this feeling in my gut was telling me that there was more to Roger Horner than some pumped up rich kid playing drug dealer.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
I rolled out of bed and wiped the sleep from my eyes, a sort of a dry crust that came from too much booze and too much sweat. Annie was still asleep beside me, clutching a pillow with a faint soft snore. After the attack at the club, Annie and I had ducked out early and made our way home. Annie had been nearly wild last night, my back still a mess of teeth and nail marks. But it had been incredible. Annie always did get turned on when I beat the shit out of someone, it was the one surefire way to get her to forget about being mad at me. I leaned over and kissed her on the neck softly, and got up.
I took a quick shower, washing off the smell of Annie and the alcohol of the night before and changed into one of the clean suits I kept here. A little less threadbare than the last, with dark pleated pants and a dark jacket. I ran my hand over the growth on my face and left it alone, the stubble still not so bad I needed to drag out my razor. I drained the last of the orange juice out of the fridge and set the coffee on as I burnt some eggs for the both of us. I left out Annie's plate and fixed myself some coffee as I ate. The coffee was hot and black an I decided against spiking it and instead tossed a fistful of aspirin down my throat. It was far to damn early for me to be working, yet I knew I had a case to crack.
I gently woke Annie and told her I'd left breakfast and that I'd be back later tonight. I was gonna sniff around my perps last known address and see what I could dig up. I slid my gun under my shoulder and dropped my cell into my pocket and headed down stairs to hail a cab. I got one after a few minutes, the weather was cold and drizzly and I was glad I had my coat with me. I gave the cabbie the address Mike had given me and settled into the back sink with my smokes.
It was a long, uneventful car ride. It seems our boy Roger and Elsa had holed up in the Burrows, a section of the city over run with drugs, robbery and murder. I knew it fairly well as I had done a bit of my beat time in here, as well as from my days in Vice. You could find anything you wanted in the Burrows, if you know who and how to ask. The file I had briefed had been pretty bare, but that nagging feeling was there. The Burrows was the hardest of the hard places, I mean my neighborhood wasn't the fucking Ritz, but you had to have some real balls to live in the Burrow. I was beginning to think that I maybe, just maybe, this feeling in my gut was telling me that there was more to Roger Horner than some pumped up rich kid playing drug dealer.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Flash Fiction: Noir Story
Chapter 11
The cabbie dropped me off in front of the Lady and I knew something was amiss. The bouncer was off the door, leaving it unattended. I threw a $20 in the front seat and bolted out the door. I hit the wet steps of the club in one leap and plowed through to the chaos within. I looked and saw Tiny and the doorman surrounding another man who had a knife to a girls throat. I moved in slowly, listening to him rant about how his wife had left him and that he was so tired of being alone. Rant about how this girl had loved him. She had told him so. Crazed thoughts that she was cheating on him with all these guys.
I breathed a small sigh of relief that the girl wasn't Annie he was holding. She was a petite blond with breasts at least 2 sizes to big for her frame. I looked around but didn't see Annie anywhere. I continued creeping up on the john. He had the look of a man on to much of something, drugs, liquor, whatever. His hand shook as he held the knife to the girls throat. He wasn't pressing hard, sort of just wavering it about and I knew I could make a move if the time was right.
Tiny caught my eye as I crept around behind him. All the attention was on him and he kept spewing rants about how this girl loved him and all that. Tiny shook his head no every so slightly, like that was gonna stop me from making a move. Tiny and the bot bouncer kept close as I snuck around behind him. He was still shouting as I brought my arms up in front of me. The perp had reached near sonic pitch as I came up behind him and I watched a trail of piss run down the strippers leg. This shit was gonna end now.
In one move I darted in, throwing my right arm under his and driving it wide. I could feel him flex against my forearm but I steeled my muscles to lock them out. The knife drew wide but away from the girls throat as I brought my left hand into a fist, punching his kidney as hard as I could. I felt him grunt in pain and his body swing around, my arm losing its hold on his knife hand as he swerved to face me. As his arm came back around I threw myself closer, driving my forehead into the bridge of his nose. I could hear the cartilage break and feel the wet, hot stickiness as his nose was crushed. Staggered now, I threw another punch across his jaw before Tiny and his boy grabbed the perp. They dragged him towards the rear exit, where I knew he was about to receive a far worse beating than the one I gave him. A couple of the other girls helped his hostage up, and I saw Annie staring at me from the stage entrance, a smile on her lips. Score one more for the good guys.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
The cabbie dropped me off in front of the Lady and I knew something was amiss. The bouncer was off the door, leaving it unattended. I threw a $20 in the front seat and bolted out the door. I hit the wet steps of the club in one leap and plowed through to the chaos within. I looked and saw Tiny and the doorman surrounding another man who had a knife to a girls throat. I moved in slowly, listening to him rant about how his wife had left him and that he was so tired of being alone. Rant about how this girl had loved him. She had told him so. Crazed thoughts that she was cheating on him with all these guys.
I breathed a small sigh of relief that the girl wasn't Annie he was holding. She was a petite blond with breasts at least 2 sizes to big for her frame. I looked around but didn't see Annie anywhere. I continued creeping up on the john. He had the look of a man on to much of something, drugs, liquor, whatever. His hand shook as he held the knife to the girls throat. He wasn't pressing hard, sort of just wavering it about and I knew I could make a move if the time was right.
Tiny caught my eye as I crept around behind him. All the attention was on him and he kept spewing rants about how this girl loved him and all that. Tiny shook his head no every so slightly, like that was gonna stop me from making a move. Tiny and the bot bouncer kept close as I snuck around behind him. He was still shouting as I brought my arms up in front of me. The perp had reached near sonic pitch as I came up behind him and I watched a trail of piss run down the strippers leg. This shit was gonna end now.
In one move I darted in, throwing my right arm under his and driving it wide. I could feel him flex against my forearm but I steeled my muscles to lock them out. The knife drew wide but away from the girls throat as I brought my left hand into a fist, punching his kidney as hard as I could. I felt him grunt in pain and his body swing around, my arm losing its hold on his knife hand as he swerved to face me. As his arm came back around I threw myself closer, driving my forehead into the bridge of his nose. I could hear the cartilage break and feel the wet, hot stickiness as his nose was crushed. Staggered now, I threw another punch across his jaw before Tiny and his boy grabbed the perp. They dragged him towards the rear exit, where I knew he was about to receive a far worse beating than the one I gave him. A couple of the other girls helped his hostage up, and I saw Annie staring at me from the stage entrance, a smile on her lips. Score one more for the good guys.
End of Line.
Gerrad!
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