Read Online Reign by Chet Williamson - Free Book Online Page B

the inner lobby, leaned on it, and looked at the stage. " Goddam ," he said softly, a sour smile twisting his mouth. "Fuckin' cat . . .”
    " Yo , Abe!" a voice called from behind him. He turned and saw Harry Ruhl's bushy head poking through the door, slowly and fearfully joined by the rest of him. As usual, Harry wore his Kirkland High jacket, though it had been a dozen years since he had somehow managed to graduate from the school. Harry was borderline-retarded, and had graduated, so the drinkers down at Morrie's had it, only because he was the best fucking guard the football team ever had. In fact, Harry Ruhl had been threatened by his teammates whenever he so much as thought about dropping out and getting the exact kind of janitorial job he now had, even with his diploma.
    "Come in here, Harry," Abe called, hiding his smirk from the larger, younger man. " Lookit that." He put his arm around Harry's shoulder and pointed to the stage. " Crissie's lapping up the goddam blood ."
    " Ohmigosh . Ohmi gosh , Abe! That's that guy's blood? That Tommy guy?”
    “That's right. That's what's left over from the accident. And what she don't lick up, we gotta clean up."
    "Who? You mean me?" The hefty shoulder trembled under Abe's spidery hand.
    "Well, sure, Harry. I mean, you just can't leave a big blood stain right there in the middle of the floor, can you? Hell, the folks in the balcony and the mezzanine would see it sure, and Mr. Hamilton couldn't have that in his theatre, now could he?"
    "Nope, I . . . I guess not."
    "You wouldn't want to get Mr. Hamilton mad, would you?"
    "Nope. I wouldn't . . .”
    "All right then, let's get backstage and get to work."
    Abe had learned that the easiest way to get Harry to do what he wanted was to keep asking him questions, questions whose logic, right or wrong, demanded from Harry the kind of answer that Abe wanted. And if Harry said it himself, well then, he most likely would do what he himself had said.
    Abe led the way down the aisle and onto the stage, where he went over to the gray cat and picked her up. Harry stayed near the wings, looking with a mixture of fear and awe at the dark stain on the blond wood.
    " Whatsa matter, girl?" Abe said. "Isn't old Abe feedin ' you enough? Gotta eat up other people's leavin's ?" He rubbed his bulbous nose against her moist black one. She purred.
    "Geez, Abe," Harry said. "Geez . . ."
    "Okay, you little cannibal," Abe said, setting the cat back on the floor and pushing her in the direction of the wings, "go catch yourself a mouse or eat your Purina or something. We gotta clean this crap up. Let's get a bucket, Harry."
    "Aw, geez, Abe. I mean, couldn't I do something else?"
    "What, you're afraid of a little blood? Come on, Harry, be a man. It's a good thing you was never in the service. I fought in Europe when I was a helluva lot younger than you, kid. I seen my share of blood. Guts too." Abe put a fatherly arm around Harry and led him offstage into the scene shop that also housed the janitors' closet. "My buddy — name of Ikey , Jew boy from New York City, but he was okay — he took a bullet right in the head at Anzio — you know where Anzio is?"
    "Uh-uh."
    "Italy. You know where Italy is?"
    "Uh . . . Europe? Where you fought?"
    "That's right. Europe. Anyway, Ikey's head just went ka- pow , like you put a cherry bomb in a melon. Blood? There was blood all over, but that wasn't the worst — there was brains, too, like white-gray oatmeal, stuck all over my uniform, splashed all over my face —"
    "Aw, come on, Abe," Harry said, shaking his head and pulling a large bucket and a wet-mop out of the closet, "I don't like to hear talk about —"
    "And a eyeball ," Abe proudly announced. "This eyeball just popped right out of his head, and it's layin ' there on the goddam sand, and you know what, Harry?"
    Harry looked up tentatively from his mop and bucket. "What?"
    "It winked at me."
    "No!" The tone was properly awestruck.
    "Hell if it didn't — just layin '