by Andrew Weis
“Hey!” Tyrone bellowed as he slammed the desk.
“Huh? No, T, nobody been here. I was by the door the whole time.”
“Where’s Edge?”
“I think he’s out front with Coz.”
Tyrone stormed out of the office. Henry, still looking over his chest, stepped out and locked the office door. I folded up the blueprint and realized I couldn’t make the blueprints inrep with me.
I returned to solid form, unlocked the deadbolt and eased open the door. Henry wasn’t there. Once I closed the office door, I heard the click of a switchblade by my ear. Lucky me. I got to meet someone new.
“What’re you doing in T’s office, sweet cream?” the voice said.
I turned around and faced the kid, who couldn’t have been more than fourteen, about five feet tall in boots. He waved his joke of a switchblade across my face.
“Who are you?” I asked. I played up the frightened girl act to make him think he had an ounce of control over me.
“Edge.”
“Well, Mister Edge, I was looking for Tyrone. I got something for him that his, uh, Army friend wanted.”
“Like what?”
“I can’t tell you. I want to take it to him myself. Do you know where they’re keeping Reggie? You’d be doing T a big favor.”
“Yeah?” Edge asked while giving me a tough guy shove. “I ain’t telling you anything until you give me something first,” Edge said, while scanning me head to toe. “You think I’m stupid?”
“I think you’re smarter than an Einstein bagel. That’s worth something, right?”
Edge breathed harder, then his smile vanished. I guess he wasn’t in a kidding around mood.
“Tell me what you were doing in T’s cube, and I’ll go easy on you.”
“Since you put it that way, I stole something and wanted to blame you for it.” I shoved the kid back into a storage room.
We tussled until I knocked him out with one punch. My imagination kicked in so I materialized a bondage gag and wrapped that around his head. I pulled down his pants and shoved his hands into his underwear. To complete my masterpiece, I spread an opened copy of Playgirl magazine across his chest. I wished I could be there when someone finds him. I picked up his knife and snapped it in half, cheap Chinese-made crap.
After leaving the storage room door open, I left through Xtremes’s back door. I wanted to get back to Daniel’s house to make sense of today’s events. Along the way, I hoped I wouldn’t meet any more of Tyrone’s friends. Maybe I’d have better luck in the morning.
Chapter 12
AFTER ROLLING THE blueprint under the sofa for safekeeping, I plopped on the sofa chair and squeezed my eyes shut. I dragged my hands down my cheeks and saw the time on a wall clock, it was a little after noon. Sometimes I was a real ditz. All I had to do was keep my cool and keep close to Daniel. To find him now, I had to focus on what I needed to do next.
I gazed at the family pictures on the oak end table, its clear coat finish peeling away in flaky rings where drinks once set. No matter which of the photos I looked at, my eyes returned to the snapshot of Reggie with his pals at a desert military base among those crates of explosives.
Curiosity blossomed in my brain, so I headed down to the basement to look at the cement container again. I slowed my roll as I studied the setup. I knew nothing about mining or the explosives used for it. As far as I was concerned, dynamite was the usual explosive for anything that needed blowing up, but I didn’t understand why Reggie tested it in his basement.
Perhaps he worked on small-scale creations. The sides of the cement container were a foot thick, with heavy steel reinforcement bars poking out the wall tops. The neighbors couldn’t have known about Reggie’s work or the cops would’ve shut him down.
I found literature from a company called Harrisburg Munitions on a side workbench. The trifold pamphlet contained unrealistic photos of spotless men smiling in a mine in front of an industrial-sized drill.
While I read, I learned Harrisburg Munitions made explosives for the mining industry and large-scale demolitions. Also, on the workbench, I saw electrical schematics and mathematical equations scribbled in opened notebooks.
Reggie had invented a new mouse trap, and Tyrone wanted it for himself. The hotbed for answers was thug-central, also known as Xtremes.
For the first time on this ARV, I felt more like a detective than an angel. That made me consider my role in Hali and how my instincts weren’t so much about fighting or protecting but more about finding truth.
I approached Xtremes and saw Sook leaning against Coz’s red Chevelle. While he focused on his phone, I removed a scrap piece of steel pipe sticking out of a garbage can in front of the dry cleaner’s store situated next to the nightclub. Without hesitation, I walked up to the Chevelle and smashed the back window.
Sook shielded himself from the flying bits of glass and stood in shock while I tossed the pipe through the shattered rear window. He looked at the damage, then jerked his head toward me. I stood there staring at him, unwilling to take any more of his crap.
“You want to be dead, don’t you, girl,” Sook said with growing anger.
“Is Tyrone here?” I asked as I thumbed at the club entrance.
“Are you still dogging the man? You ain’t going to live long enough to see nobody with you breaking shit like this.”
Sook retrieved the pipe from the car. He gripped it as if he wanted to hit a large ball about the size of my head.
“Easy, Sook, I don’t have the time,” I said.
I gave him credit; he came out swinging. After many missed swipes, he tired and leaned against the Chevelle. As he sat to catch his breath, I leaned closer to him.
“One more time. Is Tyrone home?” I asked.
“Ask inside,” Sook said.
Sook looked at the car. Poor guy. I swore he looked about ready to cry. The one thing I remembered from when I was a kid was to never give a hardcore gangster a break. They chose their lives and had to pay for their decisions like everyone else.
With Tyrone’s Chevelle looking more ragged each day, at some point he’d want to find out why someone messed with his car. I never knew of a gang leader who liked people messing with their ride.
I went to the club entrance, then stopped in my tracks. Nemo and Nero eyed me as they moved to block me from entering.
“We told you to get lost, girl,” Nero said.
“I’m not looking for trouble, okay? I want to talk to Tyrone,” I said.
“Can’t do it,” Nemo said as he crossed his gorilla-sized arms.
I understood their putting up a front, but I rather liked these guys. They didn’t seem to fit the mold of bouncers wanting to work for the local creep. Regardless, I had to talk to Tyrone.
“You guys know all that stupid macho talk about having brass gonads?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Nero said with an upturned nose.
“They’re not really brass.”
I materialized spring-loaded rat traps and underhanded them to Nemo and Nero’s respective groins. Nemo groaned while Nero let out a high-pitched yelp. They peeled away from the front door as they tried to remove the traps.
While they busied themselves to remove a male groin’s worst nightmare, I marched inside, but I knew my two behemoths would be back in quick order to bounce me again, so I had to move fast.
The Mexican badass bartender with the silver-tinged goatee stood behind his mahogany barrier. He took an impatient breath upon seeing me. All he needed was a neon sign stuck to his head that read get your ass kicked here to clarify his feelings for me.
“Christ! What now, kid?” he asked.
“You gave me some bad info yesterday,” I said. “I’ll give you a second chance to make things right. I’d hate for this to get ugly, so if you don’t want to see me again, let me see Tyrone.”
The bartender’s eyes shifted toward the front door, then back at me. The bartender grinned, then leaned against the back bar. I sensed th
eir body heat twenty feet away and a growing shadow enveloped me. The bartender returned to his duties with a cocky grin. As expected, the tap on my shoulder came.
Nemo and Nero stared at me with revenge in their eyes.
“So, is Tyrone here or not?” I asked.
“Outside,” Nemo said, jerking his head toward the back door.
Nero was about to reach for me when I raised my hands.
“Hey, your bartender friend sent me that way the last time. I don’t think Tyrone’s out there. This doesn’t have to get rough, guys.”
Nero grabbed my arm, then dragged me toward the back door. I struggled to free myself but his grip was unbreakable.
“An armed escort for little old me? I’m flattered,” I said.
Nemo threw open the back door, then Nero shoved me across the alley. Instead of standing at the door waiting to chew my butt off like they did before, Nemo and Nero leaned against the closed door with their arms crossed.
“So, what’s the story? Two against one?” I asked as I reset my ponytail.
“We going to teach you how to take orders,” Nero said, removing his glasses and putting them in his coat.
“So? Does that mean you’re going to double-team me?”
Nero jerked his head to Nemo.
“Whoa, you know what I mean,” I said, giggling.
If these mountains of humanity hated me, they would’ve destroyed me by now. They weren’t average bonehead bouncers. They seemed reasonable, with a sense of maturity. Nero handed his coat to Nemo. He stretched and cracked his knuckles.
“Come on, guys. Wouldn’t it be easier if we talked about this over coffee?” I asked.
“Too late for that. Girl or no girl, we’ve had enough of you cockroaching us. You want to learn it hard, you got it.”
Nero hopped like a boxer, then danced through several martial arts moves. Damn, it’d be great to have him on my side.
“Hey, that looks cool,” I said. “Are you one of those mixed martial arts guys?”
“Something like that,” Nero said. “Get ready, mouth. Class is in session.”
“Hold on,” I said with raised hands. “Since you two have me at a disadvantage, I want to make a deal first.”
“What deal?” Nero asked as he paused his warm-up.
“If you win, I’ll never bother you guys again.”
“And if you win?” Nemo asked with a condescending grin.
Nemo’s question showed me that maybe he thought I stood a chance of not getting my head ripped open. He seemed civilized for a giant in gritty Englewood Rails.
“If I win, you help me find Daniel Perry.”
“Deal. Looks like you going to bed early tonight,” Nero said, then charged me.
Nero moved fast for a giant. I leaped over him and shoved him against a large green garbage dumpster. He struck his head on the steel bin with a loud clang. He fell onto his back and clutched his head.
“Nero?” Nemo asked in shock. “Girl, how did you jump so high?”
“You’re next. Let’s go,” I said.
Nemo approached me more like a wrestler instead of a wannabe karate guy. He faked attacks as he looked for his moment to strike. In a smooth move I scooped him up, lofted him over my head and tossed him into the green dumpster. The lid wobbled and, like a falling tree, slammed down on Nemo’s head.
That was the nice thing about being an angel, the strength and the speed were fantastic.
Since I could’ve injured the men whose help I preferred, I understood the warnings in training about making too big a splash with humans by flexing my muscles more than I should. Since Nemo and Nero gave me such a hard time up to this point, a little head knocking seemed proper.
I didn’t enjoy brawling with either of them, so I took a more irritating approach. A memory of something Daniel said he once did to his sister Riley when they were kids popped into my mind. I materialized a rubber band and straddled Nero’s massive chest. I looked into his dazed eyes, then turned his face toward mine.
“Nero? Where’s Tyrone?” I said, snapping his face with the rubber band. His face twitched, but he stayed quiet except for the high-pitched yelps. “Nero?” I asked and snapped him again.
“Ain’t saying nothing, girl. Get off me,” Nero said.
“Have it your way.”
I snapped Nero all over his face. His hands jerked to protect himself, always a step behind the next snap. Threatening someone’s life was the most common method to get information, but I learned that annoying the crap out of people got them to surrender more easily and without the fuss of a bloody carcass.
“Stop that shit, girl. Stop that shit!” Nero pleaded.
“Are you going to talk?” I asked.
Nero took a breath and his face relaxed into submission.
“Yeah.”
I helped Nero up and set him against the dumpster. Nemo pushed up the dumpster lid while he stumbled inside, struggling to get to his feet.
“Where’s Daniel?” I asked. “His sister and aunt are dead and Daniel’s missing. Do you know anything about it?”
Nemo climbed out of the dumpster and wrestled out of his filthy suit coat streaked with unknown greasy slop from whatever he rolled around on in there. He looked at the coat in disgust, balled it up and threw it into the dumpster.
“Hey, T don’t tell us nothing, girl,” Nero said.
“Shut up, bro,” Nemo said. “We got no intel on this girl so don’t feed her.”
“Look what you’re coming out of. If she can toss us like rag dolls, she can do worse,” Nero said.
“He’s got a point,” I said.
Nemo frowned, then came closer.
“Who are you, girl?” Nemo asked.
I had changed my physical appearance enough so nobody could recognize me. Now, I needed a name. I thought of my grandmother’s middle name. It wasn’t close to my own, and nobody would question me about it.
“Abigail, but you can call me Abbey. Now, about Daniel,” I said.
“Abbey? That’s your name?” Nemo asked with a tilted head and a glint of suspicion.
I took an exhaustive breath, then planted my manicured fingers on my hips.
“It’s a beautiful name, girl; I mean, Abbey. I was, uh, only asking.”
“Focus, guys. Daniel?” I asked.
“Like Nero said, Tyrone keeps us in the dark most times,” Nemo said.
“Where else does Tyrone go?”
“Anywhere. The man’s a gypsy.”
“I was in his office and I know he has blueprints of the Federal Reserve Bank,” I said.
“The Fed?” Nemo asked.
“Yeah. The vault. Does he think he has the slightest chance at robbing that place?”
Nemo pursed his lips as he studied Nero.
“Told you T was crooked,” Nemo said, slapping Nero’s arm.
“I know, but he said nothing about robbing the Fed,” Nero said.
“I hate to hit you with bad news, but robbing the Federal Reserve Bank is a stupid idea. The government doesn’t like people stealing their money. They even have a rule against it.”
“T always loved the banks, Abbey. That’s all he talked about after he got back from the Gulf. I don’t know why he’s so hot on banks all of a sudden. As far as I knew, the drug trade was his game.”
I remembered what Tyrone said in the desert about robbing banks and how Reggie got him to enlist.
“Was Reggie a bank robber too?” I asked.
“Reg wanted no part of it. He’s been driving a cement truck for Hoffman Cement since he got discharged, but that might be doubtful now since he rolled his truck.”
“He crashed his truck? When?”
“Not quite a week ago.”
“Not quite a week, huh? Daniel went missing, like, a day later. Did anyone die?”
“Nobody got hurt. Reg took a turn too fast and rolled the truck. He disappeared right after that.”
Since I knew more about Tyrone and Reggie than I did befor
e, I had to get more familiar with what they conspired. If I got them out of their problems, I could get back on track with my ARV.
“How close is Tyrone to Reggie? I mean, are they best friends? What’d they do in the Army?” I asked.
“They ain’t friends, not real close ones anyway. In the Army, they wired bombs, made bombs, blew up bombs,” Nemo said.
“They made bombs? Weren’t they a rescue team?”
“Yeah. They worked surgical-like. They used bombs for the job.”
“Can Tyrone make bombs?”
“Yeah, but Reggie came up with something different. Don’t know the details, but whatever he had, T wanted the formula.”
I suspected that that’s what Coz looked for when he broke into Daniel’s house.
“What was so different about Reggie’s bomb that Tyrone kidnapped Reggie and Daniel?” I asked.
“Not sure.”
Nero thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers.
“I heard Coz say something about the bomb being quiet,” Nero said.
“Was Reggie planning on selling it to Harrisburg Munitions? If Reggie had a new bomb that blew up safer, if that’s even possible, I can see why mining companies would want it.”
“Big money there,” Nemo said.
People obsessed over money. The greedy ones assumed control of the world was possible if they got more money than anyone else. They were in for a surprise when their time as humans ended. Money and even the knowledge of money was useless in Hali.
“It’s a safe bet that Tyrone has Reggie and Daniel pinned down someplace. Do you have any idea where they might keep them?” I asked.
“They keep off the grid,” Nemo said. “He might be at Avalon Range. T likes to ghost when the heat’s on.”
“So he’d, hide out at a scrap yard?”
“The place is huge. With all the hills of shredded metal, it looks like one long mountain range. The man’s cut out little hideouts all over that place.”
“Okay. Can you take me there?”
“Yeah.”
I followed Nemo and Nero down the alley to the closed loading dock door of a shuttered building. I reset my blonde hair into a ponytail. The waft of a warm breeze on my sweaty neck sent a brief chill down my spine. At some point, I’d have to freshen up my hair. The thick humidity made it feel oily.