I had nowhere to run. No way to fight back.
Unless…
I looked around, finding my target.
Then I sprinted.
Ten steps later, I was raising the lid and climbing into the Dumpster, falling into the garbage face-first.
I wasn’t there to hide.
I was done hiding.
The trash had piled up since yesterday, but after only a few seconds of digging I found the Cap’n Crunch cereal box in the exact same place.
I dug my hand inside.
Pulled out the baggie.
Hydro.
Opening the zip top, I shoved my face in and snorted as much powder as I could, just as Bruiser reached down and yanked me out by my arm.
He tossed me to the ground.
Then the drug took me over.
First, the sharp hit.
Then the disassociation from pain and reality.
Then—
RAGE!
I snarled, throwing myself at Bruiser, swinging at his face so fast and so hard he began to back up.
He threw a punch at me, I slipped it, and then I jumped on him, my mouth craving more of his blood. My teeth found his neck, and I chewed on it like a tough steak, twisted off his ear, then jammed a finger deep into his nostril.
Howling, Bruiser tried to push me off. But I’d hooked a finger around his septum, and I pulled him to the ground with me.
Releasing his face, I scooted back and tangled my fingers in his hair and began to dribble his head against the curb like a basketball.
What a bouncy, bouncy, basketball.
BOUNCE!
BOUNCE!
BOUNCE!
BOUNCE!
When did basketballs get so bloody?
BOUNCE!
BOUNCE!
BOUNCE!
Are basketballs actually alive?
BOUNCE!
BOUNCE!
This one must be alive. It’s got a brain inside.
BOUNCE!
BOUNCE!
At least, it used to have a brain inside.
BOUNCE!
BOUNCE!
BOUNCE!
Aww. Poor little basketball. It’s not alive anymore.
Then the convulsions seized me, and everything went black.
When I opened my eyes, I saw white.
White walls. White sheets.
A hospital.
I took an inventory of my body parts. Legs were still there. So were arms. Everything hurt, but it was a diffused pain.
A woman was sitting in a chair, next to my bed, reading a magazine.
Pasha? Annie?
Who did I want it to be?
The woman looked up.
“You’re awake.”
It was Jack.
“Where—?”
“St. Augustus Hospital. You overdosed on drugs. Pasha found you.”
I looked around the room.
Jack shook her head. “She’s not here.”
“Annie?”
“The girl that Bruiser abducted? She’s not here, either.”
“But you’re here.”
Jack sighed. “I’ve spent the last six hours talking with officials, trying to keep you from being charged with manslaughter.”
“Self-defense,” I pleaded.
“You bashed a man’s brains out. Literally. They were all over the parking lot. When the police came, a goose was eating them.”
“Is the goose okay?”
Jack folded her arms across her chest. “Pasha said you went up to Redemption. The same night Jimmy Mulrooni died.”
“Did she say that to anyone else?”
“Her lawyer advised her not to.”
“Do I need a lawyer?”
Jack stared for a moment and said, “No. No charges.”
“Thanks. I owe you.”
Jack stood up. “What you owe me, is a game of pool. The doctor says you’re a mess, but you should be out in a few days.”
“You leaving?”
“I got a date. Glad to see you’re not dead.”
Jack headed for the door.
“No kiss goodbye?” I asked.
She gave me the finger.
I smiled, then drifted back to sleep.
Someone was shaking me, saying my name.
Annie? Pasha?
McGlade.
He was wearing a hospital gown.
“Kevlar is a lifesaver, but no one tells you how much it hurts.” He frowned. “Eight broken ribs, and acute groin strain. Want to see?”
“No.”
“You should check it out. My balls swelled up to three times their size. It’s like looking at a big, pink balloon. With curly hairs and a dick on top.”
“I’ll pass.”
Harry pulled up a chair, wincing as he sat down. “Jack told me some of what happened. You want to fill in the details?”
I gave him a condensed version.
“So you snorted Hydro and went Dawn of the Dead on his ass?”
“Something like that.”
“And the goose saved your life.”
“Yeah.”
“Makes sense,” Harry shrugged. “Birds of a feather.”
I actually chuckled at that.
“Really? You’re laughing at one of my jokes? I don’t think you’ve ever done that before.”
“You’re funny, in small doses.”
“Speaking of small doses, let’s talk about my fee.”
“I thought I paid you in coke.”
“That got lost. When I flushed it down the toilet.”
I didn’t pursue the issue. I owed Harry and Jack so much, I’d never be able to repay it.
“So how much do you want, Harry? Name it, and it’s yours.”
“I don’t want money. I want a favor.”
“What favor?”
“I don’t have one right now. But someday, in the future, I may need one.”
I nodded. “Consider it done.”
“It may not be for a while. May not be for years. That means you need to stick around. You get what I mean?”
I was oddly touched by that. “I get it, Harry.”
He beamed, then patted my hand. “Glad to hear it, brother.”
“Brother?”
“It’s a term of endearment.”
“I thought we weren’t friends.”
Harry shook his head like I was an idiot. “Jack doesn’t do tough love. But I do. So I withheld affection in order to get you on the right path, and it worked. Apparently you’re totally in love with me.”
“I’m going back to sleep now.”
“You want a hug, first? A little kiss, maybe?”
I settled for a hug. Harry offered to get me some coffee from the cafeteria, and I agreed, but a few minutes after he left, I fell asleep again.
When I opened my eyes, Annie was there.
She looked terrific. More beautiful than I remembered.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “About everything.”
Annie shook her head. Her eyes became glassy.
“Did he hurt you?” I asked.
“No. Just scared me.” Then the tears came. “Did you read any of my letters?”
“I’ve kept them all. I haven’t read them.”
“Can you do me a favor?”
I nodded.
“Don’t read them. Throw them away.”
I reached for her. “Annie…”
She pulled away like a snake was about to bite her. “I can deal with the cancer. I can deal with the drugs. I can even deal with the prostitutes. But what I saw… what you did… to that man…”
“He was going to kill us both, Annie.”
“I don’t care, Phin. I can’t unsee that. The look in your eyes. What you did… what you did to his head.”
“I was on a really powerful narcotic. It made me a little crazy.”
“A little crazy?! I was there when the ambulance came. They had to pick him up with a shovel. And you looked happy doing it. Li
ke a child playing in a sandbox.”
She turned away, then immediately turned back. “Promise me you’ll throw away the letters.”
At least I could be graceful in defeat. “I promise.”
“I won’t be writing you anymore. I hope… I hope you get the help you need.”
I watched her leave. She took part of me with her.
Forget her, Earl said. Pasha owes you money. So does that Persian guy at the club, Kahdem. Fifty large for taking care of LaBeck. You know the pile of snow that kind of cash will buy us? We go to Manny’s, drop some Gs, round up a few pros and spend the week at the Ritz. How’s that sound?
It sounded pretty damn good.
You and me to the end, buddy. Don’t you ever forget that.
“Phin?”
Whatever they were putting in my IV, I was grateful for. Because it was strong enough to blot out my dreams.
So why did I think I heard Pasha?
“Phin.”
Not a dream. She was there next to the bed. Holding my hand.
“I didn’t want to leave you,” I told her.
“I know. You said that because you didn’t want me to follow.”
I nodded.
“I followed anyway.”
I nodded again.
“That woman. Annie. She’s beautiful.”
“Yeah. I’m sure she’ll make some guy really happy.”
“But not you?”
“Not me.”
She squeezed my hand tighter. “Do you think I could make you happy?”
I didn’t answer.
Don’t do this, man. Don’t drag this sweet lady into your shitty life.
“I’m not exactly boyfriend material, Pasha.”
“Your cancer.”
I nodded.
“Your drug addiction.”
I nodded.
“Your job.”
“You saw what I did to that guy.”
“You did it to save Annie.” Pasha splayed her fingers across her chest. “To save me.”
“I have what the police call a history of violence.”
That’s the understatement of the century, Earl said.
“Would you ever raise your hand to me?” Pasha asked.
“Of course not.”
“Then I think… I think we can make this work. But I have some conditions. First, you get into rehab.”
Tell her to go to hell.
“Okay,” I said.
“And then you go back to chemo.”
Chemo? Is she nuts? Remember how much we hated chemo? That shit was worse than death!
“Okay,” I said.
Pasha smiled. I smiled back.
When her lips touched mine I felt more alive than I’d felt in ages.
“I have to get back to the clinic,” she told me. “We open this morning. I can swing by here after work.”
Pasha—my girlfriend—stood up and walked to the door.
Chemo? You think you can get rid of me that easily? You and I have a suicide pact. I’m not leaving. Ever.
Pasha stopped at the doorway, turned, and then came back and kissed me again.
“See you later,” she said.
Then she left.
I stared at the empty doorway.
“Hurry back,” I whispered. “I don’t know how much time I have.”
THE END
AFTERWORD
DEAD ON MY FEET was my very first novel, written in 1994, two years after I’d graduated college. It was good enough to land me a literary agent, but it was never published. Undeterred, I wrote two other books featuring Phineas Troutt. They weren’t published either, so I took a different route and made Jack Daniels the lead in WHISKEY SOUR, which became my first published novel, in 2004.
Those three Phin books were the only three novels of mine that hadn’t ever been read by anyone other than a few people. But fans have asked for them, so I did some extensive rewriting and now DEAD ON MY FEET, DYING BREATH, and EVERYBODY DIES are available to the public.
If you’re new to my books, Phin, Jack, and Harry also appear in a few dozen of my other novels. Check out the following bibliography, or my website www.jakonrath.com, for more details.
And, as always, thanks for reading!
Joe Konrath
Chicago 2017
JOE KONRATH’S
COMPLETE BIBLIOGRAPHY
JACK DANIELS THRILLERS
WHISKEY SOUR
BLOODY MARY
RUSTY NAIL
DIRTY MARTINI
FUZZY NAVEL
CHERRY BOMB
SHAKEN
STIRRED with Blake Crouch
RUM RUNNER
LAST CALL
SHOT OF TEQUILA
BANANA HAMMOCK
WHITE RUSSIAN
OLD FASHIONED
SERIAL KILLERS UNCUT with Blake Crouch
LADY 52 with Jude Hardin
65 PROOF short story collection
FLOATERS short with Henry Perez
BURNERS short with Henry Perez
SUCKERS short with Jeff Strand
JACKED UP! short with Tracy Sharp
STRAIGHT UP short with Iain Rob Wright
CHEESE WRESTLING short with Bernard Schaffer
ABDUCTIONS short with Garth Perry
BEAT DOWN short with Garth Perry
BABYSITTING MONEY short with Ken Lindsey
OCTOBER DARK short with Joshua Simcox
RACKED short with Jude Hardin
BABE ON BOARD short with Ann Voss Peterson
WATCHED TOO LONG short with Ann Voss Peterson
PHINEAS TROUTT THRILLERS
DEAD ON MY FEET
DYING BREATH
EVERYBODY DIES
STOP A MURDER PUZZLE BOOKS
STOP A MURDER – HOW: PUZZLES 1 – 12
STOP A MURDER – WHERE: PUZZLES 13 – 24
STOP A MURDER – WHY: PUZZLES 25 – 36
STOP A MURDER – WHO: PUZZLES 37 – 48
STOP A MURDER – WHEN: PUZZLES 49 – 60
CODENAME: CHANDLER SERIES
EXPOSED with Ann Voss Peterson
HIT with Ann Voss Peterson
NAUGHTY with Ann Voss Peterson
FLEE with Ann Voss Peterson
SPREE with Ann Voss Peterson
THREE with Ann Voss Peterson
FIX with F. Paul Wilson and Ann Voss Peterson
RESCUE
THE HORROR COLLECTIVE
ORIGIN
THE LIST
DISTURB
AFRAID
TRAPPED
ENDURANCE
HAUNTED HOUSE
WEBCAM
DRACULAS with Blake Crouch, Jeff Strand, and F. Paul Wilson
HOLES IN THE GROUND with Iain Rob Wright
THE GREYS
SECOND COMING
THE NINE
GRANDMA? with Talon Konrath
WILD NIGHT IS CALLING short with Ann Voss Peterson
CLOSE YOUR EYES
FOUND FOOTAGE
TIMECASTER SERIES
TIMECASTER
TIMECASTER SUPERSYMMETRY
TIMECASTER STEAMPUNK
BYTER
EROTICA
(WRITING AS MELINDA DUCHAMP)
FIFTY SHADES OF ALICE IN WONDERLAND
FIFTY SHADES OF ALICE THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS
FIFTY SHADES OF ALICE AT THE HELLFIRE CLUB
WANT IT BAD
FIFTY SHADES OF JEZEBEL AND THE BEANSTALK
FIFTY SHADES OF PUSS IN BOOTS
FIFTY SHADES OF GOLDILOCKS
THE SEXPERTS – FIFTY GRADES OF SHAY
THE SEXPERTS – THE GIRL WITH THE PEARL NECKLACE
THE SEXPERTS – LOVING THE ALIEN
THE SEVEN YEAR WITCH
WHISKEY SOUR
Lieutenant Jacqueline “Jack” Daniels is having a bad week. Her live-in boyfriend has left her for his personal trainer, chronic insomnia has caused her to max out her credit cards with late-night home shopping purchases, and a
frightening killer who calls himself ‘The Gingerbread Man’ is dumping mutilated bodies in her district.
While avoiding the FBI and its moronic profiling computer, joining a dating service, mixing it up with street thugs, and parrying the advances of an uncouth PI, Jack and her binge-eating partner, Herb, must catch the maniac before he kills again…and Jack is next on his murder list.
WHISKEY SOUR is the first book in the bestselling Jack Daniels series, full of laugh-out-loud humor and edge-of-your-seat suspense.
LAST CALL
A retired cop past her prime…
A kidnapped bank robber fighting for his life…
A former mob enforcer with a blood debt…
A government assassin on the run…
A wisecracking private eye with only one hand…
A homicide sergeant with one week left on the job…
And three of the worst serial killers, ever.
This is where it all ends. An epic showdown in the desert, where good and evil will clash one last time.
His name is Luther Kite, and his specialty is murdering people in ways too horrible to imagine. He’s gone south, where he’s found a new, spectacular way to kill. And if you have enough money, you can bet on who dies first.
Legendary Chicago cop Jacqueline “Jack” Daniels has retired. She’s no longer chasing bad guys, content to stay out of the public eye and raise her new daughter. But when her daughter’s father, Phin Troutt, is kidnapped, she’s forced to strap on her gun one last time.
Since being separated from his psychotic soulmate, the prolific serial killer known as Donaldson has been desperately searching for her. Now he thinks he’s found out where his beloved, insane Lucy has been hiding. He’s going to find her, no matter how many people are slaughtered in the process.
All three will converge in the same place. La Juntita, Mexico. Where a bloodthirsty cartel is enslaving people and forcing them to fight to the death in insane, gladiator-style games.
Join Jack and Phin, Donaldson and Lucy, and Luther, for the very last act in their twisted, perverse saga.
Along for the ride are Jack’s friends; Harry and Herb, as well as a mob enforcer named Tequila, and a covert operative named Chandler.
There will be blood. And death. So much death…
LAST CALL by J.A. Konrath
The conclusion to the Jack Daniels/Luther Kite epic
Dead on My Feet Page 23