Names entered his mind and left quickly, discarded asbeing too tacky, too silly, or too stupid. In the end, he went with the firstfake name he had ever worn. The past was the past, and though this was a newworld, some things were still true. He was still crazy as hell. He was stillpissed off. He was still ready to burn the world to the ground. "Call meAce," he said.
From outside, they heard gunshots. Pudge ran over to thewindow to see what all the commotion was. He stuck his fingers between tooslats in the blinds and spread them, giving him enough room to see outside."We got trouble," Pudge said.
Ace hopped off of his stool, and walked over to thewindow. He looked outside. Another vehicle had pulled up behind their purloinedjeep. The olive green vehicle was larger, more armored, and had a huge machinegun mounted on the back. Soldiers hopped out of the vehicle. It looked like aturtle to Ace. They took aim and fired their rifles, clearing the dead from theimmediate area. The majority of the men stood around the perimeter of thestreet, their eyes scanning the perimeter. One soldier, with a self-importantwalk, stalked up to the jeep that Ace and his boys had commandeered. He lookedinside and checked for keys.
The man didn't see any, so he turned and yelled somethingat the soldiers behind him, then he noticed the blood inside the jeep. He spokeinto a speaker on his shoulder, then he started pointing and yelling orders atthe other soldiers. They grouped up and took positions in the street.
Ace couldn't tell what the man had ordered, but he knewit wasn't good. "Get your guns," he said.
They arranged themselves around the bar. Ace sat behindthe drum kit on the stage. Slutty Rivets and Pudge were behind the bar, whileSlick and Spider hid in the hallway that led to the club's bathrooms. The doorto the bar opened, and five soldiers walked into the room. From their vantagepoint, all they could see was Pudge and Slutty Rivets behind the bar.
"Howdy, boys," Slutty said. "What can Iget you?"
The soldiers were confused. They had been expecting a lotof things, but a guy standing calmly behind a bar was not one of them. Theywere young and confused.
"Don't you know that we're under martial law?"the least confused man said.
"Right," Slutty replied, "we're stayinginside in the best place possible. You boys want a beer?"
Ace watched the exchange from behind the drum kit. Thedark sunglasses over his eyes made him feel invisible. They were young, theywere order, and they were pissing him off.
"No beer for us. We're just wondering if you knowwhat happened to the soldiers that were driving the jeep outside."
Slutty shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don'tknow anything about no soldiers."
Sweat rolled down Pudge's face. He had the poker face ofa five-year-old. "What about you?" the soldier asked. "Have youseen anyone?"
Pudge stammered, unable to form a coherent answer. Acehated him for it, but he secretly loved him for it as well. Now he could puthis plan to work. Ace grabbed a drumstick, and began playing the drums, bangingon them rhythmically, a drumbeat that he had heard a thousand times before, adrumbeat that Hey Fever had belted out a thousand times before.
The soldiers jumped at first, but Ace just smiled. Theylooked at him with surprise and gathered right in front of him. Pudge andSlutty Rivets pulled their guns out, and from the darkness of the hallway, Aceknew that Spider and Slick were doing the same.
"Stop that!" the soldier commanded."You're going to bring a shitstorm of those things in here. They'reattracted to sound!"
Ace channeled his fury into the drumming. The noise wasdeafening, and he smiled, making sure he had their attention. He banged on thecrash cymbal repeatedly, filling the building with violent noise.
"Stop!" the soldier yelled.
Ace grabbed hold of the crash cymbal with his left hand,stifling its raucous ringing. Outside, he could hear more gunshots. Ace smiled.That's exactly what he wanted.
Without warning, Ace dropped the drumsticks to the groundand drew his handgun. The soldiers, dumbfounded by his erratic actions stoodthere, not knowing what the hell was going on. Ace pulled the trigger, a sneerplastered to his face.
As soon as his first shot was fired, the boys joined in,adding their own rhythm to his beat. They made music, beautiful music thatfilled Beelzebub's with a sound that was better than any sort of distortedrhythm he could have ever wrung from his electric guitar. Smoke and fire filledthe building, and then it was over.
From outside there were more gunshots. Ace hopped off thestage, reloading his weapon. He pulled a rifle off of one of the soldiers lyingon the dancehall floor. His boys appeared from their hiding spots.
"That was severe," Spider said.
Ace smiled. He was having a truly excellent time.
Outside, the gunshots had stopped. "Grab aninstrument," Ace told them. "It's time for the encore." The boyswere confused, and he laughed, a choked strangled thing that sounded more likethe death rattle of a madman than an indication of appreciated levity. Throughthe window, Ace could see them coming. This would have to be a quickperformance.
Ace and the boys lined up by the windows, rifles in theirhands. Ace took aim at a burly man, a barrel-chested beast of a man who wouldhave wiped the floor with him. But the world was different. Now 130 pounds wasas dangerous as 210. His mouth filled with saliva, as he thought about pullingthe trigger.
The soldiers on the street looked around, trapped betweenthe dead and wondering what had happened to their own soldiers. They circledaround the entrance of Beelzebub's, the building's dark-tinted windowspreventing them from seeing the danger that awaited them. "Fire," Acewhispered.
Then he pulled the trigger, blowing a hole in theshoulder of the burly man. He spun and fell to the ground. Others dropped, butthe soldiers were quick. They took
