through the hicks and nod. She tilts her head to the opposite side of the bar where a thick crowd of people are stuffed together.
– Over there.
– Where?
– The little guy.
– What little guy?
That's when I realize that a dude I had taken to be over six feet is actually a pudgy midget standing on the bar telling jokes to a group of seven people. She looks at me and gives me a twisted little smile.
– So how you gonna handle this one, tough guy?
I look the midget over, taking note of the large bulge in the back of his pants. I smile at her.
– What's your name?
– Evie.
– Nice name.
– Thanks.
– You got a bouncer in here?
– No, just me.
– Got a policy on fights?
– Why do you ask?
– Well I think I'm gonna have to rough that midget up and I'm trying to figure if I should do it in here or outside.
– Well, you do it in here and you're gonna get eighty-sixed.
– Uh-huh. Well I guess I better take care of it outside.
– Why's that?
– I think I'd like to come back in here sometime so I can see you again. Here's for the beer and the help. My name's Joe by the way. See you around.
I left a fifty on the bar and went outside to wait for the dead-beat. He came out a bit later with some of his normal-sized pals and there was a ruckus. He pulled a gun. I took it away and thumped him a few times. The normal-sized people got outraged and I thumped them. In the end I got the money, threw the gun down a storm drain and went home. The next night I went back to the bar and sat there and listened to the music. Evie did her job and barely looked at me, but when her shift was over I walked her home.
We sat on her stoop for awhile and talked about a book she was reading and a movie I liked. Then she got up to go in and I stood and she moved to the step above mine so she could look at me without craning her neck. She told me she was going up. She told me she'd like to see me again. She told me she had HIV and doesn't have sex with anyone under any circumstances. Then she kissed me hard on the mouth and went in. I never even had a chance to explain to her that I don't have sex either.
It's hard to explain this kind of thing to a person. That this thing called the Vyrus has taken up residence in my body. That it feeds off my blood, scours it of all impurities and weaknesses. That it wants only to survive, and to do that it needs more blood, so it gives me the instincts, strengths and senses of a predator. That if I don't feed it more blood, human blood, it will burn my body and scorch my veins and leave me a dry husk. That exposed to the UV radiation of the sun, it will rack my immune system and tumors will riot through my body in minutes. That it pumps me full of adrenaline and endorphins. That it clots in seconds and knits my flesh and that if you want to kill me you will have to blow up my heart or head or cut me in half or otherwise annihilate my body in one blow before it can heal. That I am a secret in the world and that the greatest defense I have is to remain unknown. For we are few and we are rotted by the light of the sun. That my body is as close to dead as living can get, and is kept moving only by the will and appetite of another organism. That I could walk through a ward of AIDS patients and drink their blood and the Vyrus would eat the HIV and leave me with clean healthy blood. That I could walk through the same ward and infect the patients with my blood, and it would cleanse and heal them, but leave them with a hunger and thirst for more. That I could heal
One day, when I am a braver man, I will tell her these things, and then I will look her in the eye and tell her I love her and ask her to be only mine. But until that day, we're just friends.
In the late morning the phone rings.
–
– Mr. Pitt, I have a call for you from Mr. Predo. Please pick up if you are in.
Oh, shit. It's the bodybuilder from the Coalition.
– Very well, Mr. Pitt. Please be certain to return this call at the earliest possible moment.
I'm fighting to untangle myself from the sheets, grabbing at the phone. I snatch it off the cradle and drop it on the floor. I fumble with the phone and try to switch off the answering machine at the same time.
– Hello. I'm here. Hello?
The bodybuilder's voice comes over the line and I can hear his exasperation in the way he breathes.
– Good morning, Mr. Pitt, I have a call from Mr. Predo. May I connect you?
– Shouldn't you make sure it's really me, just in case'?
– If I had any doubts, Mr. Pitt, you have just relieved them. I'm connecting you now.
There's a little click and then I hear you know who.
– Good morning, Pitt.
– Morning, Mr. Predo.
– All is well, Pitt? Here it is.
– Well sure, I guess all is well.
– Then you have disposed of the problem and we can expect no further difficulties'?
There are two things you do not want to do with The Coalition.
The first is fail an assignment. The second is He to them.
– Yes, Mr. Predo, all cleaned up. No problem.
– Good. In that case, I think I may have some work for you. Shit.
– Truth is I'm pretty busy right now. Not sure I can take on anything new.
He pauses for a half moment.
– There are two ways to look at this job, Pitt. On the one hand, it is an opportunity, an opportunity you might say yes or no to as you wished. On the other hand, the cleanup we arranged after you bungled things at the school was quite expensive. In light of that, you might look at this job as a favor you owe the Coalition in return for taking care of your mess. I think the latter of these two versions may be the more accurate interpretation. What do you think?
Having just lied to the man I know that this is not the time to let pride have its say.
– I imagine you're right about that.
– That would be yes, then?
– Right.
– I thought that might be your choice.
– Yeah. So what's the job?
– A woman is going to call you today with a problem. You will offer her your assistance. Whatever it is she asks of you, you shall do it. Efficiently and, need I say it, discreetly. Yes?
– Right.
– The woman is of some prominence and breeding. Try to be polite.
– My specialty.
– Yes. Well, once again, my congratulations on taking care of the problem, and my best wishes on the swift resolution of this new endeavor.
– Thanks.
– Good-bye.
– Right.
He hangs up. I sit there on my bed and bang the back of my head against the wall over and over again. Predo thinks the carrier is dead and the fact is I don't have the slightest clue where it is. And if any new zombies start stumbling around before I find the damn thing it won't be hard to figure out where they came from. And after that it won't be long before I'm spiked to the tarmac in some New Jersey parking lot, watching the sun come up.
