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Back Dead of Winter Save as PDF
Chapters (42)
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“Funny thing, Snowman,” Skittles said. “One minute I’m pullin’ five a week, eight a day with D.C. Feebie”—his nickname for the FBI—“next minute, they done bounced my carotid with ten ccs of Special K, black bagged my dome, throwed me on a flight and tossed my ass in this really nice baroque-style hotel bed somewhere outside of Bratislava—”

“You—told that assassin dude about me? About that deputy trying to—” Lucy’s voice broke off, emotion getting the better of her.

“I’m sorry, baby girl,” Skittles said, “but y’all needed to know this shit was all the way for real—”

“You fucking ratted me out to that psycho maniac!” she screamed.

“Get her outta here!” I said to Jimmy. “Take her home! Now!”

Jimmy grabbed Lucy’s coat and struggled to get her to the door. She would not go easy into that cold night. “I thought you were my friend! You fucking bastard!”

Once they were gone, I said, “I’m gonna take a wild guess here, and I don’t want any bullshit. I even think you are bullshitting me, and we are fucking done, now and forevermore. Are you—both of you—company assets?”

Silence.

Then Skittles said, “Listen, man: I used to think all this shadow-world geopolitical shit and subterranean socioeconomics was just the one-half of one percent keepin’ they collective foot on the neck of the collective poor. All them years back when you sold me out? That was the start of me seeing the real players behind the curtain, man. I could’ve taken my talents and easily disappeared a year after the FBI scooped me up. But having seen the shit I’ve seen—rigged elections, engineered viruses, fresh mass graves—I’da been playin’ a clown prince dickin’ around the edges of Armageddon. Am I an ‘asset’? You damned skippy I’m an ‘asset’! I ain’t gonna bleed on the flag to keep the stripes red, but I’m doin’ what I can with what I got to keep abandoned African babies from being emulsified for gene research. Doin’ what I can to stop Great Lakes fresh water being sold on the black market. You was always good to me, Snowman, so whichever way you go with this, I’m cool. We cool.”

I thought for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then I said, “No more human popsicles, okay? We clear?”

Skittles laughed. “That was some certifiably sick shit, right? Hey, man, we got our day jobs anyway, so no worries. But when it comes to my man Dieter? Hey, a dude’s gotta do what a dude’s gotta do.”

“They were bad men, August,” Dieter said in a soft, almost apologetic way. “Very bad.” Then he said, “You’re still in danger, August. Bojing does not react well to losing. And you’ve brought him to the brink of catastrophic failure.”

“What can I expect?” I asked.

“Armageddon.”

34

34

“I already got me a wife.”