She nodded.
“I don’t feel that burning in my hands anymore. Does that mean those Full Bloods are gone?”
Paige chuckled. “That just means they’re at least sixty or seventy yards away. Of course, they could also be halfway to Chicago by now.”
Once the park was behind them, Cole could see several sets of flashing lights clustered near the area where all the bodies had been left behind. There were plenty of cops on the street as well, but they were more concerned with the newly discovered carnage to worry about chasing down every set of taillights moving through the opposite end of town. Walter navigated the Janesville streets and led the way onto southbound I–90. After they’d made it to the open road, Paige’s phone rang. She flipped it open and held it up so they could both listen through the speaker.
“You all right, Paige?” Walter asked.
“I’ll be sore for a year or two, but I’ll live.”
“Good to hear. The police band is jumping,” Walter announced. “They’re saying armed men with matching black tattoos were posted on the streets to shoot at anyone who came too close to the park.”
“Misonyk’s idea of crowd control,” Paige said in a weary voice. “I’m glad you guys killed that asshole. Are the cops looking for us or our vehicles?”
“Not from what I’ve been hearing. From the sound of it, they’re so busy with the mess we left them that we should be able to get out of here without a problem. I know a good route to Chicago using back roads that should get us there in plenty of time for a late night snack.”
“Good. That means we can find a nice spot to stop and do some digging. There’s a Half Breed I’ve got to bury.”
“What? We made it out of there fairly easily, but we don’t need to push our luck!” Walter snapped.
“I’d be dead if it wasn’t for that Half Breed,” Paige replied with even more of an edge in her voice. “The least we can do is put it to rest. You can go on without us if you want.”
After a brief pause, Walter said, “The job’ll go quicker if more of us are digging, but let’s at least wait until we’re farther away from here.”
“Agreed.” With that, Paige snapped the phone shut and smiled. “I knew he’d come around.”
But Cole didn’t have it in him to smile. Every inch of his body hurt. His hands were torn open. Another monster had his scent. Come to think of it, he didn’t think he’d be able to smile for the rest of his life. Then Paige leaned over and placed her mouth so close to his ear that he could feel the warmth of her breath as she spoke.
“You did great, Cole,” she told him. “I owe you, big-time.”
And then, somehow, he smiled.
Epilogue
The bar was a bright, popular place on Michigan Avenue that was filled with televisions, video trivia games, and, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, karaoke machines. The beer came from microbreweries that spiked perfectly good bottles with flavors like pumpkin spice and strawberry. It was crowded almost any time after business hours, which made it the perfect place to speak without truly being heard.
One of the few televisions bolted to the walls that wasn’t showing a sporting event of some kind displayed the headline that had been splashed across TVs and newspapers for the last few days: MASSACRE IN JANESVILLE. Cole didn’t need to hear what the newscaster was saying. It was probably the same as what had been printed in the papers and displayed on the Internet, which was just a longer version of the report Walter had given on their way out of Janesville: police had stumbled across a bunch of armed men that had similar black marks on their necks and wrists. Shots were fired. A chase ensued and a whole lot of bodies were found near an old parking garage in Palmer Park.
“I got a message from Prophet,” Paige said as she sipped her Amber Winter Brew.
Cole chuckled and swallowed some of the Jack’s Pumpkin Ale he’d been talked into ordering. As he lifted the bottle to his mouth, he couldn’t help but notice the light dusting of scar tissue upon his palm. The wounds had healed quickly, but still itched whenever he drove through certain parts of town. “Another dream?” he asked.
“Just a message.” Paige held up her cell phone to show him the glowing, three-word text message: TOLD YOU SO.
“Not one for grace in victory, is he?”
Paige shook her head and put her phone away. “Who would expect that from a guy who lives in strip bars? Have you heard the latest about Janesville?”
“No. Is there anything new?”
“The police are blaming it all on the poor bastard who was knocked out of that park like a foul ball. He was the one carrying the most guns, so they figure he was the one who planned the whole thing and then ‘killed himself by running into traffic.’” She framed the last part in finger quotes. “Oh, and those are sprouting up too.”
Glancing at the television Paige was looking at, Cole saw shaky footage of the dried husks that were the remains of dead Nymar, bordered by the words, CULT SUSPECTED IN JANESVILLE SLAYINGS.
He couldn’t help but flinch when he saw a police cruiser drive down the street outside the bar’s front window. Lowering his voice, he asked, “Shouldn’t we be—”
“What?” Paige asked in a booming voice that completely destroyed the privacy Cole had been trying to maintain.
“Shouldn’t we be worried?” Cole shouted over the noise in the bar.
She shrugged and took another sip of beer. “If the cops can find us when we’re doing good enough to keep away from Nymar and Full Bloods and everything else out there,” she said as she raised her glass, “then here’s to the cops.”
Seeing no reason to argue with that point, he said, “So, I’m treating myself to a few nights in the Fairmont with my cut of that bounty money. Care to join me?”
“You’d better hit a bank first,” Paige replied. “That’s a real fancy hotel, and I get the feeling Ace and Stephanie will try to steal that money back even before Prophet comes along to collect his share.”
“You said you owe me. I was thinking…maybe we could continue what we started when you showed me how to polish my stick.”
Paige finished her beer and got up from the little round table that was pressed up against a wall covered with framed pictures of celebrities who’d supposedly visited the bar. She slipped her hand beneath Cole’s chin, kissed him on the cheek and said, “We could have both died that night. The blood was racing. Don’t get yourself all worked up.” A cute yet naughty smile drifted onto her face as she parted her lips to say something else. Before she could let any of those words fly, however, she straightened up and looked at another one of the televisions.
The screen was filled with a commercial for a local interest segment hosted by a boyish news anchor in a dark suit. Although his voice was lost amid all the chatter and music in the bar, the hazy picture on the screen behind him was impossible to miss. Two animals that could easily be mistaken for two large dogs were running down an alley The black dog had bright, glittering eyes, and the tan dog held its head down at an awkward angle so it lolled back and forth as he ran. The tagline beneath the video read: WOLVES IN THE WINDY CITY?
Shrugging, Paige said, “I guess I’ll have to take a pass on tonight, Cole. There’s a lot to do. Call me tomorrow and get plenty of rest. You’re going to need it.”
He would have liked to think she was referring to a certain kind of strenuous activity that would put smiles on both their faces, but he knew she was probably alluding to another round of training. After using some of her cut of Ace and Steph’s money to pay the tab, Paige waved to him and left. No matter what he’d been through or what kind of hell was starting to trickle down upon the world, he still took the time to admire the motion of her rounded hips and firm backside as she walked away.
Cheap thrills. That was the secret to a happy life, after all.
Rather than go to his hotel right away after finishing his beer, Cole stopped at a liquor store so he could get
