Helaughed in his head at the sight of Old Han yelling at him in broken Englishabout him cleaning up the mess he had made. He simply hopped on his throwbackbicycle with the chrome fenders, gave Han the finger, and rode away.
Inthe night, Han had yelled, "Fuck to you! You fuck to you!"
Dustindoubted that the man would ever learn proper English, but when you've got allthe money, you can afford to treat people like heartless products. He rode downthe street, pondering it all, the unfairness of a wannabe despot hiring goodpeople, the wind in his hair, and the silence of the night. Most of all, he ponderedthe fact that two people had died tonight, and he had witnessed both of them.
Thefeeling of shock hit him suddenly, as is the case with most hauntingexperiences, the true impact of them seems delayed, like that moment when youcut your finger and it takes a few seconds for the blood to actually comepouring out. Dustin slowed to a halt, hopped off of his bike without thinkingand sat down on the curb.
Heput his head in his hands and tried to press the images out of his mind withthe palms of his hands. All that seemed to accomplish was making his eyes achedully. He reached into the pocket of his camouflage cargo shorts and fished outa cigarette. He put it to his lips and lit it. In the smoke that he exhaled, heswore he could see the image of the young man that had stumbled into the bar.Death had walked into the bar tonight, and he was the only one that had left italive. Well, him and Teach, but who knew where he was.
Atthat moment, he saw his life with a burning clarity that few people ever see.Pouring drinks for drunks... how did his life wind up that way? What kind oflife is that? It's certainly not what he dreamed of when he had been a kid. Hecould still remember his father's bearded face asking him what he had wanted tobe when he grew up. The answer had always been the same... a lawyer.
Whilethe thought of being a lawyer made him feel stupid and naive now, it wasn't themoney or the prestige that he wanted; it had always been the ability to helppeople that had drawn him to the profession. Who did he help now? No one. As amatter of fact, he was guilty of actively making some people's lives worse. Youcould see the signs on people's faces as they bellied up to the bar withtrembling hands and alcohol blooms on their faces... and yet, it was theirmoney and their time. Who was he to deny them the comfort of alcohol? Afterall, what did anyone really know about anyone else? How can one man make thecall for another? Sorry sir, you've had enough.
Nowhe was the one who had had enough. Dustin vowed to never return to bartending.Instead, he would go back to school and find himself. It wasn't too late. Itwas never too late... unless the world ended tomorrow, which he highly doubtedthat it would. Dustin dropped his cigarette to the ground, stepped on it withthe toe of his Chuck Taylor's, and dove to the ground when the explosion rockedthe night.
Chapter 21: Katie Bar the Door
Theold man saw Kevin rise from the couch. Katie paid no attention as the cordlessphone dropped from his hands and shattered into pieces on the floor. He wasthere. He was alive. For the first time all night, something finally madesense.
"Kevin?"she said hopefully. There was no response, and Kevin stumbled around, his armsout in front of him as if he were blind.
"Kevin?"she said again, hoping that he would snap out of his daze and recognize hismother.
Shesaw his eyes dilate, and then he focused on her, a thin stream of drool runningfrom the side of his mouth. But his face was expressionless, and for the firsttime in her life, she thought her baby boy didn't actually look like a maleimage of her. Right now, he looked like his dad, or at least what his dad hadsuddenly turned into. The raw wound at his throat had stopped pumping bloodwhen they had gotten into the house, but now, as Kevin sat up, the blood ran downthe wound, staining his already stained Portland Timbers t-shirt.
Shewanted to hug him and make sure that he was alright, but something didn't quitefeel right. The old man hurried to the boy and put his arm on his shoulder,looking into his face with concern.
"JeezLouise, kid. We thought you were dead." The old man's mirth faded as Kevintook a brief look at him with his emotionless face before he launched himselfat the old man, snarling and sending drool flying everywhere. The old man fellbackwards, and the fact that he walked at least two miles every day did nothingto help the fact that he was old. His hip broke upon impact, leaving him on theground struggling to fend off the ferocious attack of Kevin.
Katielooked on in disbelief, a glut of emotions surging through her heart and mind.There he was, her boy, alive. He was trying to murder the man who had tried tohelp them, which was a little disconcerting, so she did what mothers do. Shesaid Kevin's full name, "Kevin Adam Thompson."
Normally,the mere sound of the first two names would be enough to stop Kevin in histracks. Not so this time. He paid as much attention to her as a blind man paysto paintings. "Kevin Adam Thompson, you get off that man right now!"she yelled in her best mom voice.
Theold man pleaded with her to do something. She was at a loss. She stood there,confused, elated, and completely clueless as the old man struggled to keepKevin from biting into his leathery neck. He was in agony, as each movementsent nerve feedback from his hip up to his brain. His arms burned from thestrain and still the woman did nothing. "He's not your son, anymore!"he strained, the
