After a moment, they heard Jens cry out, “Hunley! Where are you? Need an expert opinion in here.”
“Stick it through the window, buddy!” Hunley cried from across the apartment.
“It’s in the window already,” said Ullrich, the dark-haired newcomer.
“Well hit the “on” switch! Shit! You don’t need an expert Smith to tell you it’s hot as shit in here!”
After a moment, Zach headed inside. Pete grew stern and he tilted his head at the doorway. “See that?” he said to Wodan. “Zach thinks it’s his turn.”
“His turn for what?”
“Anne.”
After a moment he turned to Wodan, then continued. “We’ve got to get you a girl, man.”
“Oh yeah?” said Wodan, laughing nervously.
“Yeah. Because if we don’t, you’re the one who’s gonna end up in Anne’s web. And you don’t deserve that. I don’t, either.”
Pete stared down at his hands as if genuinely afraid that he would, through no choice of his own, end up captured by the small woman who’d passed by earlier. Wodan did not fully understand Pete’s warning. What’s the worst that could happen? he wondered.
* * *
They kept drinking and enjoying the cool air of the extremely loud, gas-powered air cooling unit. Wodan watched Hunley bounce on Anne’s bed as he told stories, larger than life and smoking like a furnace and dropping ashes everywhere. Anne complained at first but eventually left for another room.
Once Wodan drank enough courage, he said, “Hunley, what’s it like being in a gang?”
“It’s all bullshit, man,” said Hunley. “There’s some Smiths that run around with guns and act hard and constantly radio in to HQ demanding backup ’cause they think they saw a Coilman sporting a piece. Then there’s other Smiths that work with inventory and get machines to work… that’s me. Everyone thinks if you’re in a gang, you’re gonna get ladies. Not true! Not true! For one thing, I’m too much of a pussy to ever fire a gun, or even get in a fight. And the chicks who are into that, well, man, they’re total skanks, believe me. Some of ’em might be pretty hot, but they’re cavewomen. Total primitives.”
“What would you say if I asked you to help me wipe out the gangs?”
Wodan had already established a reputation as a joker obsessed with vigilantism, so he was not surprised when Jens and Pete laughed violently. Strangely enough, Hunley bobbed his head from side to side as he seriously considered the question.
“Pontius would be better off without them,” said Hunley, “even though, in a sense, the gangs are Pontius.”
“Pontius is the people, though, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but most of those people are assholes, and some of ’em are gangsters on top of that. Besides, I’d be pretty worthless in a squad of assassins... I’ve never even touched a gun, man,” he said, laughing.
“I think they should be wiped out,” said Ullrich. “Definitely.” Wodan turned and studied the black-haired youth. He said little, but Wodan sensed that there was something about him – a deep well of dissatisfaction, perhaps even a potential for violence.
Wodan blacked out, then came to as he walked into the kitchen. Jens, Pete, and Anne each sat at the table, staring at one another.
“Let’s play Hearts,” said Anne. She produced a pack of aged, yellow playing cards just as Wodan occupied the fourth seat.
The other boys seemed uncommunicative and distant, so Wodan took the cards and said, “Hearts? What’s that?”
He fumbled and spilled the cards across the table. As Pete gathered them up, Jens said, “Shit man, you really are a foreigner, aren’t you? I thought that accent was a total farce.” He briefly explained the game, in which four players took turns laying down cards in an effort to not take the “set” and gain points. The player with the lowest score won, unless he took every point available – in which case he “drew down the moon”, which was a rare occurrence.
“I’ll give it a try,” said Wodan. Pete dealt the cards, then looked at the others under his thick eyebrows while Jens fidgeted, seemingly unable to remain in his seat. Wodan felt himself sobering up as he studied his hand. He picked up point after point, shaking his head.
“I’ll get the hang of it,” he said.
At the end of the round, Wodan had all of the points.
“Man, I’m terrible at this!” he said, slapping his forehead.
“We let Wodan draw down the moon!” said Anne.
“Huh?”
“Remember what I said about getting all the cards?” said Jens. “It’s bad if you get point cards, but if you get them all, it screws everyone else. Where were you?”
“I was right here! But that doesn’t make any sense they designed the game so the worst player wins? That’s just dumb.”
“It was dumb luck. Just remember, you don’t want to get any point cards.”
“Okay, I’ll try again”
Anne recorded the score while Jens dealt the cards. During the next round Jens launched into a rambling explanation of how it was impossible for him to win because Pete was counting cards, Wodan was new and thus making mistakes that were impossible to plan around, and Anne was sitting directly across from him which gave her some advantage that was impossible to understand. Pete played in complete silence, his face hard and unreadable. Anne studied her cards while looking down at her nose, then glared at Pete after each card was played. Finally the round ended, and Wodan sat behind a huge pile of cards.
“Wait a minute,” said Jens. “Wodan drew down the moon again…”
Wodan took the cards and shuffled them with a thunderclap that Jens later swore was deafening. “The game of Hearts,” said Wodan. “What a game, what a game!”
“He grifted us!” Anne shouted.
Wodan laughed, then said, “I used to play the same game with my mom and sisters back home, all the time, except we called it Chalices. I realized it was the same game while you were explaining it!” They laughed while Pete shook his head.
They continued the game. Wodan could not draw down the moon again now that they were on to him, but he was still dangerous. Anne was an able player, but took no risks. Pete took an analytical approach that employed memorization and pattern prediction; only luck and risk-taking kept Wodan in the game. Jens was terrible, and often verbally analyzed a situation as if to show everyone what a powerful mind they were contending with. Near the end of the game, as Pete drew ahead, Wodan and Jens made a botched attempt at cooperation in order to put an end to Pete’s victory. Then, just as the end approached, they heard Ullrich say, “Those are Coil out there.”
Wodan jumped from his seat and ran to the window. He joined Ullrich at the blinds, then saw a group of nondescript young men walking by, laughing and smoking.
“How do you know?” said Wodan.
“The pizza place where I work, they come by all the time.” Ullrich brooded in silence, then said, “My boss made up a story about how he scared them off, but the truth is that he meets them around back and hands over ‘protection money’ so they won’t burn down the place. When they come in, he acts like they’re old friends of his, and feeds them for free.”
At the next window, Hunley whispered, “Fuck me, if they see my car and trash it, I’m a dead man. I’m not even supposed to be in this part of town.”
“They’re not Coil,” said Zach, standing beside Wodan. “You guys are paranoid.”
“No – look at the armband,” said Ullrich. “One of them is displaying it outright. They may as well be wearing black suits and carrying a flag.”
Wodan studied the youths and, sure enough, one of them wore a green armband with a small black image. Just as the youths moved on, Wodan made out the image: A black serpent eating its own tail.
A dragon! thought Wodan. Just the other day, I was thinking that I needed a dragon to throw at the Ugly. And here it is… the coiled serpent choking Pontius. The sworn enemies of the Ugly.
Wodan felt eyes on him, then turned
and saw Ullrich looking directly at him. He was shocked, for the young man’s pale blue eyes burned with intensity.
“The Coil are scum,” said Ullrich. “You want to see a normal, hard-working person throw away his dignity out of fear? Just bring a Coil in the room and you’ll see it happen. Believe me, Wodan… they’re not human.”
* * *
Wodan woke on a couch feeling horrible and dehydrated. Warm sunlight streaked in through the shades. He touched his fingers to the shades and pried them apart gently; for one moment, he felt comforted.
He turned and saw Zach and Anne watching him from the edge of her bed, smiling. His head ached and he vaguely remembered that all seven of them had spent several nights in a row at her place, drinking and forgetting the outside world. He was beginning to pay the price of forgetting.
“He’s awake,” said Zach.
Before Wodan could speak, the front door opened and Pete stomped in. “Wodi! I got us that job.”
“Which job?” said Wodan.
“The sandwich deal. We’re gonna make sandwiches for rich people at some kind of event. That way we can pay that damned rent. You don’t remember?”
“Pete, I can’t even get up. I feel awful.”
“Well, this shit was harder to put together than a bank heist. All we gotta do is slap meat onto bread for a few hours. If we don’t screw it up, we’ll get more hours tomorrow.”
“I’m gonna throw up if I have to handle any food.”
“You know those bums you see passed out on the street, or begging for money? The only difference between them and us is having a place to stay at night. So come on – get up.”
Through flashes of pain and a fog of irrational fears, Wodan felt Pete forcing him up and putting clothes on him. Zach and Anne watched from the edge of her bed, giggling and leaning on one another. Wodan felt as if he had something incredibly important to say to Zach, as if time was running out, but it was lost in the fog.
* * *
“Shit!” said Wodan, watching his sandwich disappear down an assembly line of hands. “Pete, man, I accidentally put mustard on that Chi Rho Delight!”
“It’s fine,” said Pete, spraying a wad of sauce onto a pile of bread and meat. “They’re sheep, they’ll eat what you feed them.”
* * *
Wodan was covered in filth by the time the job was ended. He and Pete strolled side by side, counting their money and shaking their heads.
“Looks like we won’t get any more work through them,” said Pete. “My connection changed his tune and said it was a one-time deal.”
“We won’t have enough to pay rent with this,” said Wodan. “Looks like we’ve got a choice to make.”
Pete lifted his head and sighed. “This city,” he said, then fell silent.
Hunley pulled up in front of them and laid on the horn, laughing and smiling wickedly. Another air conditioning unit occupied the front seat, so the boys squeezed into the back beside Jens and Ullrich.
“My dads!” said Jens. “You bread-winners get enough to handle rent?”
“Hell no,” said Wodan.
“This dumbass I was riding with today,” said Hunley, lighting a cigarette as he hit the accelerator. “Shee-yit! This guy wouldn’t stop playing with his gun.”
“Sounds like Jens,” said Wodan, moving a fist back and forth at his crotch.
“You think you got problems?” said Jens. “Shit, man, I just spent half the day listening to Zach and Anne flirt.”
“What do you mean?” Pete said quickly.
“I’m saying if that guy doesn’t go crazy, and soon, then that lady is gonna get big with child.”
“Why do you keep saying he’s gonna go crazy?” said Wodan. Pete stared ahead grimly.
“Speaking of crazy,” said Ullrich. “Wodi, that stuff you were saying about joining a gang…”
“Huh?”
“Last night, remember? You kept talking about joining a gang so you could kill Ugly...”
“I said that?” Wodan was filled with fear. How much of his life was disappearing behind a growing blind spot in his awareness?
“Believe it!” said Jens. “You were rambling on, just crazy as balls. You sounded like a cult leader. You started talking about yourself in the third person.”
“Was it scary?”
“It was hilarious! But if you don’t remember it, then man, you need to ease up on the sauce.”
“Jens,” said Pete, “you had an entire relationship with Anne that you only remember because the stories you told everyone keep floating around until they come back to you.”
“A-a-anyway,” said Ullrich, “I was thinking that you should join the Smiths. Hunley could hook you up-”
“Dumb idea, real dumb,” said Hunley. “Unless you think bowing down to a super-secret fast-cooking oven is a good thing, then you’d end up the Foreman. Otherwise it’d just be one more dead-end job for your resume.”
“We could get guns through them, though,” said Wodan. “One bullet’s the same as any other.”
“Here’s what we’re gonna do, Psycho,” said Jens. “I been thinking about this because I didn’t pass out half-naked hugging a knife like you did. I’ve been askin’ around about this, and I found a guy who could get us an interview with the Coil. Even if you’re not serious about wavin’ a gun around and killing people, we could get all kinds of work through them. Easy shit, you know? Most of those guys just sit around all day long and talk a lot o’ noise.”
Wodan was unsure how much of this had come about because of his drunken rambling. He felt uncomfortable with pressing Jens on the matter, so he laughed, then said, “As long as I get to wave a gun around.”
“I got some details about the Coil while I was asking around. So at the bottom, they got Soldiers. Those are the goons that go around doing sneaky shit, or acting hard, or sitting around, or whatever. Then you got Lieutenants. They’re usually younger guys, they lead teams of Soldiers and they either run grafts on businesses or rich dudes... or they lead attacks on other gangs! Or even burn shit to the ground!”
Ullrich cackled, but shook his head.
“Then there’s Captains,” said Jens. “Those are older dudes. They just sit around all day getting drunk and telling their Lieutenants what to do. Or sometimes they run businesses for the Coil, like speakeasies and whatnot. And then, at the top, there’s the Master Thieves. They oversee the whole organization, and nobody even knows who they are. I heard they sleep on a giant pile of money, and they wear gloves made of bank notes so that no matter what they touch, they’re always touching money, and they use Smith hardware to pass orders directly to their Captains.”
“That has to be horse shit,” said Hunley.
“Hey, I’m just tellin’ you what I heard! Anyway, I know it sounds crazy, but… well… it’s a big ol’ slimy world out there, you guys. We don’t have to be poor as hell. For instance – what the hell are we going to do about rent?”
“Move to that abandoned building on Floyd Street,” Wodan said immediately.
“Okay, good,” said Jens. “I’m glad I got someone on my side. I thought this was going to be hard.”
“I don’t want to move in there,” said Pete. “Be realistic. That place is a dump – we might as well be homeless.”
Jens nodded, said, “Alright, I guess it would be hard to convince the rich kid about the merits of moving into a rent-free building.”
“Rich kid?” said Wodan.
“You didn’t know?” said Jens. “Pete’s dad is rich, man. Rich… as in wealthy. Pete, man, you need to quit “slumming” it with us.”
“I’m not,” said Pete, staring ahead.
“Is that your kink? Does it get you hard when normal folk start whining about the rent?”
“Where’s Zach and Anne?” said Pete.
“I dropped ’em off at F-Den Park,” said Hunley.
“Don’t change the subject!” said Jens. “Why are you here, anyway?”
“Stop the car,”
said Pete.
“Why?” said Hunley.
“I need to talk to my rich dad,” said Pete. “And no, Jens, I’m not going for a handout.”
Hunley stopped in the middle of the avenue.
They sat in silence for a moment, then Jens said, “If you’re not going to get us some rent money, then why bother them?”
“I need to show my parents that I can make it on my own.”
He got out and walked in the opposite direction. Suddenly Jens jerked, then leaned out the window. “I know where you’re going!” he shouted. “You’re going to find Anne! That’s it, isn’t it?”
Pete stopped, then shouted back at him, “You like to push, don’t you, Jens? You know what? This time… it actually worked. Let’s join the Coil.”
“Do what now?” said Jens, floored.
“I said let’s do it. Let’s join the Coil. We’ll do it tomorrow. And let’s get our shit moved into that dump on Floyd Street, while we’re at it.”
“Alright man, don’t get all pissy. You know I wasn’t serious about all that!”
“I am. Let’s move in.”
Jens paused, then shouted, “Fine! Let’s move in right now, then!”
“I’ll be back in a few,” said Pete, smiling finally. “If you’re really in the mood to prove some kind of point, you can grab my box from Wodi’s and toss it in that Floyd place. I’ll make my way there later.”
“I gotta carry your shit?”
Pete laughed, then walked away.
Hunley laid on the accelerator and Ullrich pulled Jens back in through the window before he had the chance to splatter on the sidewalk.
“Damn, this is crazy,” said Jens. “Maybe I should just move back in with Anne?”
Wodan felt himself hanging off the edge, terrified that things were moving in the direction he’d wanted. “Hey Ullrich,” he said. “You want to join the Coil with us? You know we could eventually betray them and take them down from the inside.”
“Are you kidding?” said Ullrich, laughing. “If you guys come into my pizza place and try to grift us, I’ll beat your skulls in!”
* * *
The four boys ransacked Wodan’s apartment in a frenzy. Wodan painted squares over the designs of the Ugly infrastructure that covered his walls, then they packed their goods into Hunley’s car and drove toward the abandoned section of Pontius that would be their new home.
Demonworld Book 3: The Floyd Street Massacre Page 9