Half-Resurrection Blues_ A Bone Street Rumba Novel - Daniel Jose Older Page 0,37

of paper stick out of the pages at unruly angles. “Trevor’s stack. You can take them if you want.” She’s frowning at this breach in her own rules about privacy.

I load the books into my satchel. “Thanks.” Doesn’t seem like quite the right word, but it’s all I got.

She gives me the saddest smile I’ve ever seen and then quickly turns away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

It’s worse. Like it knew we were coming. Or maybe each new ngk builds on the strength of the previous ones. The second certainly came in fiercer than the first. Whatever it is, I seriously doubt anyone’s gonna make it seven minutes, let alone ten. Five would be impressive.

This building’s a littler cleaner and better kept than the other two. There’s a newly installed door-buzzer system and fresh doormats. But the noise, the feeling of fast-forward deterioration deep down inside, the utter degradation of being near that little screeching, panting monster . . . It’s almost too much to bear as soon as we walk in.

“Jesus,” Dro says, throwing his hands over his face as if that would do anything to relieve the feeling. “What the hell?”

“I know.” Riley’s playing the reluctant lieutenant, stifling his terror through gritted teeth. “Let’s get this . . . the fuck . . . over with.”

The ngk is in a shadowy corner of the basement, cackling and panting away on his little bike just like his brothers. Again I have to stifle the urge to draw and slice the damn thing into a million pieces.

“I gonna make a grab for the machine,” Riley says. “You two cover me.” Better him than me. Dro and I draw our blades, mine vividly steel and solid compared to Dro’s shimmering ghost blade. I don’t even know what we’re preparing for, since we can’t . . . whatever. The screeching had stopped for a minute, but as Riley goes in, it comes back strong, almost knocking me to my knees. The ngk, ever focused, keeps its squinty little eyes straight ahead as it pants and chuckles to itself on that stupid stationary bike. Little patches of hair dot its pale shriveled body like weeds on a vacant lot. I steady myself and watch out the corner of my eye as Riley reaches for the bike. The shriek gets noticeably worse as he closes in. I check the stairs, squinting through the pain to make sure no one’s coming.

When Riley gasps, I swing back around, blade poised to strike. There’s no one to strike at though. Riley’s skidded away from the ngk, shaking his hand like he wants to fling it into a corner. “Fuck! The thing burned me!”

“You okay?” Dro yells.

“I think so,” Riley says. Then he collapses. He’s lying there, flickering and fading like ghosts do right before they cease to be. I go to grab him, but Dro gets there first. Only instead of getting Riley, he lunges at the little grinning creature in the corner. I open my mouth, but the words haven’t come out by the time Dro brings his sword down full force on the ngk, slicing a clean, maroon laceration into the thing’s head.

For maybe a half second, nothing happens.

We both just stand there, staring like idiots at the ngk as its dark blood pours freely from the brand-new gaping mouth Dro made in its forehead. Then it falls over itself like a sack of potatoes that just realized it was an inanimate object. There’s a moment of peace; the screeching stopped the second Dro’s blade hit its mark. Relief flushes through me. I’m reaching down to grab Riley, who’s looking slightly better, when the screeching returns in force. Not only is it twenty times worse, but it’s coming from all around us. Carrying Riley’s trembling, barely there form, I turn and stumble toward the stairs. It takes all my inner strength not to come crashing down and give up, but I can’t. There’s no Moishe to call nine-one-one this time, and Riley’s unconscious ass is depending on me.

I’d figured Dro was right behind me, but then I hear him scream. At least six ngks are on him. I have no idea how they moved so fast or where they came from. All I know is, they’re swarming over Dro’s translucent body like maggots on meat. I take a weary step toward him, almost pass out, and then realize it’s useless anyway. What am I gonna do—slice them and get myself eaten too? If that’s what they’re doing. I see