“That’s funny, Al. You always say I’m the worrier, and yeah, I was sitting here worrying about what we’re gonna do when the missus shows up. She has to come home sooner or later. We got no beef with her. Those others from Happy Village, that was on a paid contract. Cricket was also a hit for Mr. Hot Shot, as well as our initiation exercise for admission into . . . you know. I don’t want any part of killing the missus. She has a kid. That’s what I was thinking, so if you want to pound my ass into the ground, go for it.”

Alonzo laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound. “You the one who cleaned up the kitchen? Good job.”

“Nothing else to do,” Miggy muttered. “Anyone responding to your calls and texts?” He knew the answer just by the ugly expression on Alonzo’s face.

“No. Trust me, they’re all going to pay for this. We need to talk, Mig. Serious stuff.” Miggy nodded.

“We have another forty minutes or so of darkness before the sun creeps up. Let’s go outside on the deck. No one can hear us out there. Uh-oh, hold on, I have a text coming in. Kirby from the Rats.”

Expletives flew from Alonzo’s mouth like a runaway train. Miggy thought he was going to toss his cell phone to the ground and stomp on it, but he didn’t. Instead, he brushed past Miggy and threw open the kitchen door. Miggy noticed that Alonzo’s face was so red, Miggy feared he was going to go up in smoke. He turned around and closed the door. Then he waited for Miggy to say something, anything.

“Guess that was a you-must-be-kidding-me text, is that it?” Miggy said lightly, hoping to calm his friend’s black ire.

Alonzo leaned across the railing on the deck as he tried to calm down. He would never admit it to Miggy, but he’d been counting on the Rats’ help. Now he was back to square one. He took four deep breaths, held each one for seven seconds, then exhaled. When he felt calm enough to speak, he said, “Sludge is the one who responded. He said his boss said that every member of the Scorpions is nuclear waste material, and they want no part of us now or in the future and not to contact them again.”

“Did you really think they would help, Al? The truth now,” Miggy asked quietly.

“I did. Because if the situation was reversed, and I knew what they were facing, I’d help and get my bucket of blood later. That’s how you play this game. That’s why the Rats are at the bottom of the heap and not at the top, the way the Scorpions are. It’s envy, pure and simple.”