Pudge looked at him, clearly uncomfortable with all ofthe attention. "Now, Pudge, this is a new world. No one is going to comein here and arrest you. All the cops are dead. You saw that." Ace tappedon Pudge's chest, his skinny finger bouncing off of the worried man'sbreastbone. "How's your heart?"
"Fine as far as I know," Pudge said.
"Then cocaine is fine as far as you know. Do oneline. See if you like it. If you don't," Ace spread his hands wide as ifto say, "I tried my best."
The red-bearded man handed Pudge the straw, and he bentover the counter, hesitant as if someone was going to tell him he was doing itwrong. He snorted in, his eyes squeezed shut, and he leaned back, coughing alittle bit. Ace slapped him on the back, laughing. "See? Not so bad, isit?"
"Yeah," Pudge said his pupils growing widerwith every second. "Yeah, that wasn't bad at all."
The red-bearded man snatched the straw from Pudge, andleaned over the counter, snorting his own line without a pause. He passed thestraw to the man with the shaved head, who shook his head "no."
"Are you afraid too, Slick?" Ace said.
The man with the shaved head looked at him, and said,"My name's not Slick, and I don't like cocaine."
Ace stood up from his chair, the cocaine rushing throughhis body, his mind focused and euphoric at the same time. "Your name isSlick."
The man with the shaved head stood up off his stool, tooka drink from his beer, and placed it on the counter. "No one tells me whatmy name is. My name is Marshall, not Slick, not Buddy, not Champ. It'sMarshall." Marshall placed his hand on Ace's chest, his own nose inchesfrom Ace's nose. "Don't fuckin' forget it."
Ace laughed. In his head, he saw a world ofpossibilities. This was the first challenge to his power. This moment wasimportant. This was the moment that Ace had waited for, the moment where hewould bind the others to himself for the rest of their pitiful lives. He lookedthe man in his steel-gray, emotionless eyes. Murderer's eyes, hethought.
He half-smiled at the man and said, "You don't haveto do the cocaine... Slick."
At the mention of his new name, the man with the shavedhead swung his fist at Ace, a powerful punch with all of his weight behind it.Ace ducked under it with ease, and brought his knee into the groin of the man.He crumpled to the side, and Ace grabbed the baggie of cocaine and pulled out ahandful. Then he squatted on the prone man and shoved the powder in the face ofthe man, blinding him. "What's your name?"
The man with the shaved head wriggled on the ground, hiseyes stinging as he tried to breathe. Ace maintained a position on top of theman's chest, but still the man didn't answer. "What's your name?" Aceasked again.
The man with the shaved head did not answer, so Acepunched him in the face, causing the man to crack the back of his head on thefloor. Ace stood up and commanded the other men. "Grab him."
The man with the red beard hopped over the counter of thebar while Pudge and the man with the teardrop tattoo pulled the man with theshaved head to his feet.
It was quiet, except for the ragged breathing of theinjured man. Ace looked him in the eyes, those steel-gray eyes. Bitch eyes, Acethought. "What's your name?"
"Slick," the man said, defeat hanging in theair like the smoke from a burning stick of incense.
Ace slapped him on the shoulder and said, "What areyou drinking, Slick?"
Slick wiped his face and looked at Ace, gauging thepotential danger in the situation. Ace shot a disarming smiled at him. Slicksat on his stool and said, "IPA."
The man with the red beard hopped back over the bar,happy to be done with the bullshit. He fumbled around behind the bar before hepulled out a bottle of beer. He popped it open for the man, and slid it downthe bar where Slick caught it. He tipped the bottle up to his lips and drankheavily.
"That was intense," Pudge said.
"What about me? What's my name?" the man withthe teardrop tattoo asked.
Ace looked at the man. He was skinny. His arms werecovered in coarse black hairs. More hair stuck out of the ring of his collar."I'm going to call you Spider."
The man with the teardrop tattoo spat his beer on thecounter. "Spider? Couldn't you have come up with a more original name?There are a thousand Mexican dudes out there with the nickname Spider."
Ace shrugged his shoulders. "Names are hard. Youremind me of a spider. Maybe you will become a legend, and when everybody saysthe name Spider, they think of you."
Spider shrugged. "One name is as good as the next Isuppose."
The man with the red beard handed Ace a beer. "Thankyou," Ace said. He looked at the man, trying to think of a name for him.Red... that was a good name, but it was too easy. The man with the red beardwas a hulking man, easily six inches taller than Ace. His arms were thick, theskin pink like a pig. No... two animal names would be too much. They alreadyhad one Spider in the group.
The hulking man wore light brown Carhartt pants, copperrivets gleaming in the light of the bar. "What are those?" he asked,pointing at the rivets.
"Pants?" the man replied, confusion on hisface.
Ace shook his head in frustration. "No, the metal."
The red-bearded man looked down at his pants and smiledin comprehension. "Rivets?"
"Rivets!" Ace banged a fist on the counter."Those are some slutty rivets, friend. I will call you Slutty Rivets.That's your name."
Slutty Rivets laughed loudly. "I like it," hesaid. "It's ridiculous, but I like it."
They continued drinking, Slick sulking at the end of thebar, his head resting on his hand, white powder all over his clothes. Fromoutside they could hear the banging of the dead on the tall windows. Theirpeace wouldn't last much longer, but it was ok for now.
"What about you? What do we call you?" SluttyRivets asked.
A sheen of
