Chapters (60)
- DAW Books Presents
- HAPPY HOURINHELL
- Copyright page
- Contents
- Dedication
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- prologue
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- interlude
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- interlude
- thirteen
- fourteen
- interlude
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- interlude
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- thirty-eight
- thirty-nine
- forty
- forty-one
- forty-two
- forty-three
- forty-four
- forty-five
- forty-six
- forty-seven
- forty-eight
- epilogue
I still had the gun in my hand. Sam looked down, raised an eyebrow, and said, “Happy to see me?”
“Shut up. Never speak again. Come in if you have to.”
“Can’t. I’m waiting for Clarence. He’s parking the car.”
“Clarence?” I groaned and stumbled to the couch. “You brought him here? Et fucking tu, Brute?” Just thinking about the rookie’s cheerful, boyish questions made me want to throw up inside my skull. “Just go away. Both of you.” I closed my eyes and wished I would die faster.
“Not going to happen.” I smelled something and opened them again. Sam was waving some kind of huge venti-trenti-giganti coffee under my nose. “Drink this. You’ve been locked in here for six days, B. It’s bad, I know, but you can’t just give up.”
I laughed, but even I didn’t like the way it sounded. “I can’t? Just watch me, baby, and you’ll get a master class in total surrender.”
Clarence came stomping into the room like a mastodon in steel-toed boots. “Man, it stinks in here!” was the first thing he said.
“Nice to see you too, kid.” I swirled a little of the hot coffee around in my mouth. I knew if I swallowed I was agreeing to live for at least a few more hours, and I wasn’t in any hurry to sign that deal. Still, it tasted good. Well, it tasted hot and it tasted like coffee. Same thing. “Now why don’t you both just fuck on off?”
“Because we’re not going to let you drink yourself to death, Bobby,” Clarence explained.
“Then you’re too late. Because I’m already dead, remember? Now that that’s solved, it really is fucking-off time for both of you. Drop by again soon. Early twenty-second century would be good.”
Sam stood looking around the room. “And this, Clarence my young friend, is a perfect example of the power of self-pity. You can see it, you can hear it in his voice, and the Highest knows, you can smell it.”
“Bite me, Sam. Seriously.”
“Honestly, we know you’re upset. We completely understand.” Clarence came closer, stepping through the empties and the food bags as carefully as a minesweeper. I was terrified that he might sit near me and try to be helpful, but he stopped a few feet away so I didn’t have to shoot him in the foot or anything. “But don’t give up, Bobby. You know what they say—it’s better . . .”