James Axler – Watersleep

Sandy returned from the back of the Tuckey’s with a serving tray bearing four wooden bowls of stew and a stained brown paper bag. After setting down the bowls of food, she tucked the tray under one arm and stepped over to Ryan with the bag.

“Bread’s inside,” the waitress said. “I’ve got your check up at the register. We can settle up whenever you’re ready.”

“Let’s do it,” Ryan said, and pushed back his chair. The legs made a low screeching sound as they were dragged over the floor. However, before any of them could rise, Jackson Green made a comment un­der his breath.

“What did you say?” J.B. asked.

“Nothing to you. Talking to the waitress.”

“I don’t care who you were talking to. I want to know why it was you felt a comment was necessary.”

“If you must know, Four-eyes,” Jackson began, but was stopped by Mildred.

“Four-eyes? Now there’s a classic insult that never goes out of style,” she said.

“I was wondering why there was bread for you and none for us,” Jackson finished, continuing to speak over Mildred’s sarcastic interjection.

“They were here first, ordered it before you come in,” the waitress said. “Sorry about that. Today’s been busier than usual. Plenty of stew left. Should fill your belly.”

Ben Green spoke to them next. “There you go! Problem solved. Sit down, Jackson.” The son obeyed, staring hard at Ryan and J.B.

“Which way you all coming?” Green asked pleas­antly.

“West,” Ryan lied, shifting the paper bag with the bread into his left hand and smoothly dropping his right beneath the table and to his holster.

“Smart to travel in a group. I try and do the same.”

“I noticed that. Right about the same time you made a point of telling everybody in here,” Ryan said in the same even tone.

“Hey, I gotta know something,” Jackson said, tak­ing the conversation back from his father and peering over at Dean. “See, I’m not used to seeing men trav­eling with two such fine pieces of ass. Three if you count the boy—”

Jackson was interrupted by a loud snort from Con­stantinople, who found this last statement to be utterly hilarious. A double-nostril load of the pale brown cof­fee sub exploded through the large man’s nose and onto his plate of grits and stew.

“And I was wanting to know where I could buy myself some. Traveling leg, coose on the loose, a walking, talking velvet snap-trap—you know what I mean.”

“Brother, there isn’t enough money in all of Deathlands,” Mildred said. “You keep looking, though, hon. You might find yourself a real relationship, in­stead of the one you’ve got going on right now with your hand.”

Mildred’s statement amused Constantinople even more. “Who’s the banshee?” he managed to ask be­tween snorts as he tried to catch his breath from laughing so hard and exhaling the coffee sub.

The big man was pointing at Jak. Ryan could see the albino’s muscles tense across the table, but the youth kept quiet.

“I’d say he was one of those frigging vampires I heard about down along Louisiana way, but when I last looked, it was still daylight outside. He some kind of fucking mutie or what?” Constantinople asked.

“Or what,” Jak spat, sliding one of his small leaf-shaped throwing knives from the secure hiding place along the underside of his left forearm. “Chill your fat ass quick.”

Ryan gave the teenager a warning look. The ruby-eyed albino gave a barely perceptible nod and again fell silent.

So did the obese man, who chose to have another large swallow of his coffee brew.

Jackson did the replying for him: “That’s a lot of double-big talk from a scrawny pecker like you, whitey. I think you’re some kind of spook. Yeah, some kind of ghost who walks and talks, but ain’t real friendly, eh? Freaking horrorshow.”

“Ease up, boy,” Green said sharply. “Let these folk be.”

“Better listen to your daddy. We’re not looking for trouble,” Ryan said, keeping his tone deceptively easy, like the initial rumbling of a storm in the dis­tance before the first signs of chem clouds began to creep across the skyline. “No muties here, just hun­gry folks like yourselves. We just want to pay our tab and get back on the road.”