by Josh Vogt
A sheepish grin dimpled his features. “It’s simply rare for a beautiful woman to slum around here. A pity you have to share your good times with that grump.”
Dani sniffed. “Do I look dressed for a good time?”
“Sadly, no. Truth is, Dani, you look more like you just got off a rough day of work.”
Her gloved fingers tensed on the glass. “How’d you know my name?”
He looked at her left breast. Just before she backhanded him, she glanced down and remembered the name threaded on the outfit.
“Oh. Right.” She took another swig. “Yeah, really long day.”
“Want to talk about it? Bartenders are supposed to be maestros of listening.”
“Not really. Besides, it’s crap that’d make you think I was either lying, crazy, or both.”
“You don’t seem the lying, crazy type.”
“Really. What type do I seem?”
“The type who has lived her entire life behind walls and barriers—many of them you’ve erected around yourself. The type who lives in fear, worried that the smallest threat will slip past her defenses.”
She stared, drink unheeded. This had to be a practical joke. Some new employee hazing the Cleaners did. Whatever it was, she refused to let it get a rise out of her.
He grinned. “Listen to me prattle on about things I have no idea about. If I can’t help you unburden, perhaps I can provide a pleasant distraction.” He tugged off his gloves and set them behind the counter. When his hands came back up, he held a frayed deck of playing cards, which he fanned and offered to her. “Pick a card.”
“You’re a magician?”
His grin widened. “Of sorts. I promise you won’t be disappointed. Give me a chance to bring a smile to your lips.”
She squinted at him. Her earlier interest faded as his fawning comments raised more than a few warning flags. But, not wanting to go back to grousing with Ben right away, she drew a card and glanced at it. Ace of Spades.
“Now what?”
He set the deck on the bar and held out a hand. “Place it here, face down. I promise I won’t peek.”
She did so, and he sandwiched the card between both hands. A moment later, he parted them like a book to reveal empty palms. Wiggling his fingers, he drew them apart and waved them around. The card hadn’t left even a speck of dust behind.
Dani frowned. He hadn’t so much as twitched once she returned the card. Plus, he wore short sleeves, so he couldn’t have slipped it up there.
“Neat trick,” she said. “But aren’t you supposed to tell me which one I picked? Or make it reappear?”
He spread his arms and bowed, a practiced move that showed off defined muscles. “I haven’t mastered that part yet. For now, I just excel at making things disappear.” He held out his hand again. “And I’m here to offer this service to you, should you wish.”
The chill of the beer seeped through Dani’s gloves and made her shoulders tighten. “What are you talking about?”
He smirked as if it were obvious. “A woman like you hanging out with someone like that broken-down janitor? Intuition tells me this is hardly a career path you picked. You have far too much intelligence and spirit for you to willingly lower yourself to this lot in life. If you want to be free of it, I can help.”
He’d continued leaning toward her as he spoke, voice lowering, inviting her to come closer. Dani put her glass on the counter between them. A pathetic barrier, but a welcome one. His intuition told him she wanted help? Well, hers screamed for her to drop the conversation, grind it under her heel, and walk away.
“I don’t … I mean this isn’t …” She flicked her gaze to the mirror. Ben remained slouched in his seat, frowning at the rest of the bar.
The bartender chuckled. “Don’t worry about saying too much. I know all about the Cleaners and Scum. Their simplistic concepts of Purity and Corruption. The Pantheons they would delude you into worshipping as gods.” He nodded at her raised brows. “Oh, yes. I see they didn’t get to that part of the Sunday School lesson yet.”
“Like you said, I’m pretty new. But you’re not an employee, are you?”
“Hardly. You see, Dani, just because they tell you there are two sides to an issue doesn’t mean they’re right.”
“And you just so happen to know the truth.”
“I’d like to think of myself as more enlightened, yes.”
“What does your exalted wisdom have to do with me? Why—”
“Dani? What’s goin’ on?”
Ben’s call from behind made Dani realize how long she’d been talking. The bartender grinned, naked hunger in his eyes, like a wolf watching a cornered rabbit.
“I have to go.” She grabbed the pint glasses.
“Before you do,” he said, “I have one last trick I’d like to demonstrate. A conjuration of sorts, and a token of my good intentions.”
He reached behind the counter and she expected him to retrieve the card deck. Instead, Dani almost dropped the glasses when he offered her a squirming lizard. The size of her forearm, with red and orange scales, its wide belly had rows of tiny spikes down either side. It cocked one golden-brown eye at her as it wriggled in the man’s hand.
She raised her voice. “Ben? Why does the bartender have Tetris?”
“What?” came Ben’s confused reply.
“He has my lizard. Tetris!”
Scuffling indicated the janitor rushing to get out of the booth. The bartender’s face shifted slightly, as if a wax mask had melted away. While the overall features remained the same, he wasn’t the exact man she’d been talking to.
“You!” Ben shouted, not in warning, but recognition. “Get away from her!”
In a swift motion, the bartender lobbed Tetris past Dani’s head. She cried out and turned to try and catch him. She must’ve dropped the pint glasses at some point, for they cracked on the floor and splashed beer over her boots.
Tail whirling, the lizard smacked into Ben’s chest. He caught it by reflex, and it was hard to tell which of the two was most stunned.
A hand grabbed Dani’s wrist and yanked her back against the bar. The bartender twisted her arm around and locked it painfully behind her. His other hand clutched the soft skin of her throat.
***
Chapter Nine
A choked cry escaped Dani. Not just from the unexpected pain, but the fact that he was touching her. Skin to skin. She could almost feel germs crawling over from him to her.
Mycosis. Shingles. Scabies.
In another moment of shock, she realized the rest of the bar now stood empty of any patrons. Where had they gone?
Warts. Ringworm.
Ben cupped Tetris against his chest, where the lizard clawed at the janitor’s suit. Dani could tell he wanted to throw the reptile aside even as he struggled to contain it. Despite circumstances, she felt ridiculously relieved to see Tetris alive. The lizard was the one remnant of her former life; so long as he survived, so did a flicker of hope that she might stay sane.
Ben finally got the lizard held firm in one hand, and then stepped their way.
“Keep your distance, Janitor,” the bartender said. “I’d prefer you don’t take her back to HQ in a dustpan.”
Ben halted. Fear brightened his eyes. Fear for her, Dani realized, and that spiked her already-escalating panic.
Leprosy!
Her power swelled with the burgeoning emotions, rising to her defense. Before it could break loose, however, the bartender’s fingers flexed. Dani twitched as something cold shot through her. Her power recoiled from the invading energy and then … died off.
“Ah-ah,” he whispered. “Let’s keep calm. Despite what you might think, I’m here to help.”
Ben raised his free hand in a comforting gesture, but his face remained strained. “It’s gonna be all right, Dani.”
After sucking in a slow breath, she managed to speak without vomiting. “Ben? Who?”
His jaw clenched. “His name’s Sydney. He’s a
handyman, or used to be. Now he’s Scum.” Ben’s empty fist clenched. “What’dja do with the real bartender?”
“Dust to dust,” Sydney said.
“He was innocent.”
Sydney chuckled. “Innocence. What a quaint notion. Now, Dani and I were having a chat. Let me finish what I came to say, and we can all go out for tea and cookies afterward.”
“I swear,” Ben said, “if you turn so much as a hair on her head gray—”
Dani whispered, “Ben.”
His attention snapped to her. “What?”
“You’re squeezing Tetris.”
Ben looked down to the writhing lizard, which hissed against the pressure the janitor unconsciously applied. He relaxed somewhat and Tetris’ struggle abated.
“It’s always the violent threats with him, isn’t it?” The warmth of Sydney’s breath tickled Dani’s ear, and she fought a shudder.
Influenza. Nasopharyngitis.
“You got a thing against violence?” she asked through gritted teeth. “How about letting go of my arm before you break it?”
“Hear me out first.”
She choked a laugh. “Why should I listen to anything you say? You stole my lizard.”
“Actually, I saved him,” Sydney said. “If Ascendant Francis’ team had gotten to him first, they would’ve simply disposed of him to remove another tie to your old life, just as they cut you off from your family and friends. You must wonder, if their cause is so pure, their authority so just, why do they force people into their service in such a brutish manner?”
“We ain’t forced,” said Ben. “We got choices—”
“Like the ones you’ve given this poor girl?” Sydney shot back. “To do whatever you say or be scrubbed out so her power won’t fall into—what you claim to be—the wrong hands? Oh, yes. I can see how that’d be a difficult one to make.”
He dropped back to a confiding whisper. “I’m here to save you, Dani. To give you a way out. My methods may be a bit extreme, but I can help you avoid wasting so much … potential.” He made a purring noise, and nausea washed through her. “Even my most drastic techniques are a mercy compared to what the Cleaners do. Their slow leeching of your power, your very existence, all for some thankless job scrubbing out the gutters of the world—a fight they’ll lose in the end, no matter how hard they struggle.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
The hand at her throat slipped away and reappeared, holding an empty pint glass before her eyes. The veins on that hand pulsed purple-green. Before Dani could blink, the glass crumbled into dust. And then not even dust remained.
“Entropy is at my command,” he said. “I could annihilate you with a touch. Often, when I cross paths with poor, misguided recruits the Cleaners have suckered in, I ease their torment by simply removing them from existence. I came here planning to do so with you.” He must’ve felt her breath catch, for he hastened on. “But fear not. If it were my desire to have you meet their fate, I would’ve done so already.”
“Why haven’t you?”
“I confess, there’s something about you that stays my hand.”
“Got a thing for redheads?”
“While I won’t deny the allure of your mane—”
“Did you really just call it a mane?”
“—there’s far more to you than physical beauty and strength, dearest.”
“Did you really just call me dearest?”
He cleared his throat, and she sensed herself edging out to the brink of his patience. Even Ben’s wide eyes clearly communicated, Quit being a smart-aleck, princess.
“Dani, you’re an infant in our world,” Sydney said. “Yet I’ve exposed myself in order to do you a great service.”
“What do you want then? A kiss on the cheek?”
“I want you to recognize that I’ve spared your life—even that of your scaly friend—while the Cleaners plan to drain you of the marvelous power you wield. Just look at Ben. Do you think the Board truly appreciates what he’s given for their cause? Everything he’s sacrificed in the name of Purity?” He sounded truly distressed. “You’ll become the same sort of husk, Dani, and it breaks my heart to imagine you so.”
Ben shuffled in place, eyebrows twitching. “Sydney, just let her go. She don’t wanna sign up for your loony bin.”
Sydney’s weight shifted along with his attention. “Why don’t we let her make up her own mind? And while we wait for her to do so, let’s discuss the other matter that brought us together today.”
“What other matter?”
“Now, don’t be disingenuous. It’s a waste of both our times. We’re already searching for the same thing, old man. Why not pool our resources and avoid any further unpleasantness?”
Wariness and confusion edged onto Ben’s face. “What’re we searchin’ for?”
A chortle. “The second lie is no better than the first. But I can tell you’re determined to be the stubborn mule. As for you, sweet one,” Sydney’s voice lowered, “will you show a bit more sense than your mentor and come with me? I won’t force it, as they have. Your choice.”
Dani coughed. “I have to go with no. Next time you want to seduce someone, try not assaulting them.”
“I’m the first to decry violence against women,” Sydney said, “but I have to consider my own safety. Without you, dear old Ben might’ve given himself a heart attack trying to kill me. We wouldn’t want that. You’re sure you won’t change your mind?”
“Uh … yeah.”
A sigh. “No matter. This is just the beginning of what I expect to be a long and satisfying relationship. We’ll bump into each other again soon enough. Perhaps you’ll reconsider in different circumstances.”
Sydney slapped a hand atop the bar. Dani’s eyes widened as the wood crumbled beneath his touch. Gray lines of decay shot down to the floor, across to the walls, and ate up the stone to ceiling. A chunk of brick dislodged and plummeted toward Ben’s head.
The janitor leaped just clear of the falling debris. The impact shook the floor and Ben lost his footing. Dani’s heart skipped, as she feared he would squash Tetris. He rolled, surprisingly agile, and came up into a crouch.
Another shudder shook the building, and Sydney released her. Hacking, both from Sydney’s chokehold and the dust filling the bar, she pushed away from the counter right before it collapsed. Lines of decay spread, connected, and ate away the majority of the bar’s infrastructure within seconds. And still it spread.
Dani covered her mouth and nose as the walls disintegrated. The mirror turned to slag. The floorboards rotted and, in the back, the floor fell into a gaping basement. Chairs, tables and light fixtures puffed away in a blink.
“Look out!”
Ben barreled into her side and knocked them both clear as a brick pillar toppled over where she’d stood. Even as it fell, the red brick faded to brown, then gray. By the time it would’ve crushed her, it had crumbled to the last speck of mortar and wafted away.
In their fall, Dani bruised an elbow on the packed earth where there’d once been concrete. Ben lay at an awkward angle, Tetris cradled in the crook of his raised elbow.
“Mind takin’ it?” he asked.
Dani sat up and accepted her pet with near reverence. Unspooked by all the chaos and destruction, he angled his head this way and that, no doubt keeping an eye out for the nearest cricket. She took what comfort she could from the familiar bump and prick of his scales, the way his claws dug in, even through her rubber gloves.
Ben grunted and groaned as he stood. A dust cloud obscured their view beyond five feet. Dani held Tetris in one arm while covering her mouth and nose in a sad attempt to filter out the floating particles.
Bronchitis. Pneumonia. Lung cancer.
Ben coughed while trying to wave some of it away. Sydney was nowhere to be seen.
He glanced at Dani. “Are you okay?”
She scowled behind her hand. “Okay? Are you ******* kidding me?”
“I ain�
�t one to judge, but you might wanna get a better handle on the cussin’. Too much of it and the Board shuts down your ability to talk for a couple days. Trust me. It’s a bit more effective than washin’ your mouth out with soap.”
“Yeah? Well, guess what? My mouth was perfectly clean not five minutes ago, and now who knows what I’m sucking down?”
“I got some dust masks in the van.”
“A little late for that.”
He stuck hands in his pockets. “Guess so. But it’s like I toldja, bein’ a Cleaner comes with some perks. Our link to Purity buffers us against all the normal dirty business.”
She swiped hair out of her face. “That might work for you. You might be fine going around looking like you just had sex with a garbage truck, but guess what? I don’t feel clean. And that’s what matters.”
After staring at her a moment longer, he looked around and shook his head. “Cleanse me. I liked this place.” He smiled wryly. “At least the lizard’s safe, right?”
Dani felt a prick of regret for her harshness. He could’ve tossed Tetris aside in the face of Sydney’s attack, but he’d kept him safe for her sake.
As they trudged out through the rubble to the van, something Sydney mentioned wriggled back into her mind. Unable to shake her curiosity, she edged closer and spoke softly.
“Ben?” He paused with a hand on the driver’s door. “He—Sydney—said you’ve sacrificed. For the Cleaners. For Purity. What have you given up?”
He grimaced and yanked the door open, mumbling as he hauled himself inside.
“A lifetime.”
***
Chapter Ten
With Dani cuddling with Tetris in the passenger seat beside him, Ben got out his handheld radio and tuned it to a private channel.
“HQ, this is Janitor Ben. I gotta priority report to make.”
Several seconds of static passed before a voice broke through.
“Janitor, please state the nature of your situation.”
Ben pulled the radio away from his mouth. He shared a glance with Dani, who asked, “Is that …?”
He brought the radio back up and triggered the speaker. “Francis, what’re you doin’ on this channel? Since when do you—”