FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Ah, Jack, you're just in time." Bladder grinned and waved a hand at the guy standing beside him. "We've got some new meat for you."

Jack shoved the delivery box into a vacant slot in the shelf, plugging its connectors in so it could recharge, and handed the cash from his last delivery to Bladder. He turned and nodded at the new driver. The guy was slightly taller than Jack, had a more muscular build, and looked like he was just out of high school. Probably a jock. His brown hair was cut very short, his khaki slacks were perfectly pressed and his gold polo shirt was buttoned all the way up.

Jack suppressed a sigh. He figured the only reason this guy had a job was because his parents wanted to get him out of their house during the summer. In September, he would probably head off to college and then move on to one of the corporations that had made Neon City what it was.

Jack tried not to roll his eyes. Not that the guy would notice; Jack's cybernetic eyes were solid black, so no one could tell where he was looking. All things considered, he would've kept his original eyes if he'd been given a choice, but these things did offer a few advantages.

"Jack," Bladder said, "this is Clark Lewis."

"Clark Lewis?" Jack raised an eyebrow at Bladder, then grinned and shook his head. "No shit?"

"What's wrong with my name?" Clark frowned.

Jack's other eyebrow shot up to join the first. He studied Clark's face for a moment, then decided that his lack of understanding was genuine. He sighed. People just keep getting stupider.

"Not a history buff, I take it?"

"Not really. Why?"

"Getting into college on an athletic scholarship?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess." Jack stifled another sigh. "Nice to meet you, and all that shit."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Bladder pretending to scratch an itch under his nose to hide his grin. Dudley "Bladder" Pennington's sense of humor wasn't nearly as caustic as Jack's, but it was close enough. It was one of the reasons that he was among the few people Jack considered friends.

"Anyway," Bladder said, running a hand through his unruly mop of curly brown hair, "Clark, this is my coworker and good buddy, Jack Hammer."

Clark snorted and laughed. "Now who's got the funny name?"

Bladder chuckled and shook his head, and his hair fell across his face. He brushed it back and said, "Don't be making fun of Jack's name. He'll beat your ass."

"Really?" Clark smirked down at Jack, as if to say, "I doubt that."

Jack shrugged. "Nah, I'd probably just kick you in the nuts and walk away. My girlfriend might tear you apart, though, if she hears about this. She's seven feet tall and can bench-press a truck."

Clark laughed again. "Yeah, right."

"He's telling the truth." Bladder grinned. "I haven't met her yet, but I know she's not human."

Jack looked at Bladder. "I'll have to introduce you to her sometime. Maybe I'll see if she can drop by here tonight."

"That'd be cool. I've been curious about her ever since you two hooked up a couple months ago."

"Not human?" Clark frowned. "You mean, a cyborg?"

"Nope," Jack said.

Clark frowned and thought for a moment, then it sank in and his eyes widened. "Oh. One of those?"

Jack raised an eyebrow again, then he shook his head and turned back to Bladder.

"So, is he ready to get his cherry popped?"

Clark's eyes widened again and he took a step back. This time, Bladder didn't try to hide his laughter.

"Relax, Clark, he's not gonna violate you. It's just a figure of speech."

Understanding dawned on Clark's face and he nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said, nodding, but sounded rather unconvincing.

"Actually," Bladder said to Jack, "you've got a couple deliveries right now--they just came out of the oven a few minutes ago. So I guess it's time for Clark's initiation."

"Initiation?" Clark muttered.

Jack ignored him. "Great--it'll be good to have somebody to share the misery with." He glanced at the rack and Bladder pointed at the three delivery boxes that were ready to go next; Jack picked them up and said, "So, how long do you think he'll last?"

"Around here, you never know."

Clark flicked a nervous gaze back and forth between them. Bladder paid no attention. He pointed at the box on top of the stack.

"Watch out for that first one; it's a real hum-dinger."

"Even compared to the ones I usually get? I'm duly impressed."

"Oh, yeah, this is a fun one." Bladder shook his head and his wild curls flopped over his face again. "It was some old woman who took five minutes just to tell me her phone number and address, and then she changed her order half a dozen times." He walked over to the front counter and kept talking as he put the money Jack had given him into the till and took out the change. "Okay, check this out--just a few minutes before you got back, she called and asked who to write the check out to."

"Check? There's somebody out there who still uses those?"

"Yeah. Quaint, isn't it?" Bladder shrugged again and handed the change to Jack.

"Eh. Lovely. I'm really looking forward to this one. See ya in a few." Jack carried the boxes to the door, then looked over his shoulder at Clark. "Well? You coming or not?" He pushed the door open and headed for the parking lot beside the building without waiting for an answer.

The door opened and Clark caught up to him a moment later.

"So," Jack said, "which car's yours?"

"That one." Clark pointed at a brand-new, red SUV parked in the corner, far away from the other vehicles.

"Ah. Did your parents buy that for you?"

"My dad did, yeah. It was a graduation gift. How did you know?"

"Another lucky guess." Jack fought down a wave of disgust. "We'll take my car."

"Which one is it?"

"Straight ahead." Jack nodded at his hearse and Clark stopped in his tracks. Jack chuckled. The hearse had a lift kit, huge tires, a blower sticking out of the hood and eight exhaust pipes on each side. People had a wide range of reactions to the sight of it, running from mild curiosity or amusement to shock, fear or disgust.

"What...the hell is that?" Clark muttered.

"That's Cthulhu." Jack opened the door and unlocked the passenger-side door, then waited for Clark to get in. Clark didn't move.

"Uh...you named your car?"

Jack arched his eyebrow yet again. That's good, coming from the kind of guy who probably gave his dick a name. "It seemed appropriate."

"Uh...okay. And, um, why do you drive a hearse?"

"Many reasons. Notice the way you reacted to it?"

"Well, yeah."

"That's one of the reasons. Let's get going, eh?"

Clark sighed and braced himself, then walked around and climbed into the passenger seat. They put their seatbelts on and Jack started the engine, and Clark raised his eyebrows.

"How big is the engine?"

"Sixteen cylinders." Jack waved at the gear shift. "Nine-speed manual transmission with three reverse gears."

Clark blinked. "Um...how fast will it go?"

"I dunno. Haven't found the top speed yet."

"Oh," Clark said in a very soft, small voice. "Great."

Jack grinned and backed out of the parking spot, then eased into the evening traffic. Clark sat silently beside him, eyes wide and skin pale, as if waiting to die.

#

Corona folded her wings around her shoulders and ducked through the Midnight Sun's front door. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dim lighting broken here and there by neon and plasma lights flashing in sync with the beat of the music. She swept her gaze over the hundred or so people on the main floor and at the tables surrounding it, and those on the balconies as well.

Heads at the nearby tables turned as people noticed her. Even among chimeras, she tended to stand out--and here, almost everyone around her was human.

She tried to ignore them as she moved around the edge of the crowd. Fortunately, most of them had their attention on the strippers. She took a moment to watch them, wondering what it would be like to be considered attractive by so many people. Being a stripper looked fun, but she'd found out quickly that a bipedal dragon with huge muscles just wasn't what most people wanted to see taking her clothes off in a place like this.

These girls are so lucky. They weren't made by a corporation that only cared about strength and intimidation.

She sighed, turned away from the dancers and kept moving until she found an empty table not far from the bar. The chairs were all the same, one solid piece of plastic molded to fit the typical human butt, differing from one another only in color. They had been built before creatures like herself were created, and hadn't been designed with things like tails in mind.

She spun one of the chairs around and straddled it. It creaked and gave slightly under her considerable weight, but held her up, for now at least. She braced her feet under her, just in case the chair buckled while she waited for her clients.

She sat for several minutes, keeping an eye on the other tables as she waited for Myaku and the rest to show up, then she decided to go order a drink. She headed for the bar, slipped into an empty spot between a Doberman and a lion, towering over them and everyone else seated there. The bartender, a human, gave her a nervous look and braced himself visibly before walking over to her.

She scanned the menu board on the wall behind him and raised her brow ridges. Unbelievable, the prices they charge for booze. For something that impaired judgment and reflexes, and often caused people to lose control of their bodies, they were quite willing to pay through the nose to get their hands on it. Yet another thing about humans that she didn't understand.

She shrugged and said, "I'll have a cola, please. With ice."

The bartender filled a glass and placed it in front of her. She smiled--as much as her muzzle allowed her to, at least--being careful not to bare her sharp teeth and thumb-length fangs. She paid for the drink, including a generous tip for the bartender. "Thanks."

"Anytime." He smiled for the first time before going off to serve another customer.

"Are you Corona Borealis?" a woman's hesitant voice said, and Corona turned to find a young human with metallic-looking purple hair standing behind her. She was dressed in tight jeans and a red trenchcoat that looked like it was made of vinyl.

Corona nodded. "Yep. Myaku?"

"Yeah." She grinned. "I wasn't sure if I'd be able to find you in here, but when you said that you stick out like a sore thumb, I guess you weren't kidding."

"Yeah, I'm pretty hard to miss."

Myaku waved a hand behind her. "Well, if you'd like to join the rest of us at that table over there, we'll tell you about the job."

"Lead the way." Corona followed Myaku over to one of the tables, turned an empty chair around and lowered herself gently onto it. It gave a little more than the previous one had. She planted her feet under her and hoped for the best. She sipped her cola and looked over the three other girls at the table. All were human and were about the same age as Myaku, and were dressed similarly. Myaku waved a hand at each and introduced them as Nori, Teikiatsu, and Kim.

"Nice to meet you." Corrie smiled. "So, what's the job?"

"There's this guy who's been following us around," Myaku said. "Stalking us, I mean. Harassing us."

"How?"

"He shows up just about everywhere we go." Myaku shook her head slowly. "We've stopped using several of our regular hangouts because of him. He'd keep bugging us at one, so we'd start going somewhere else, and he'd turn up there and we'd switch again."

"See," Teikiatsu said, leaning forward, "he's a guy we know from high school. He started going after us there, and kept it up after the summer break started. He's always talking about tying us up, and all kinds of other sick shit."

"You talk to the police about this?"

"Of course. Know what they told us?" Myaku snorted. "All they can do is talk to him, but they can't do anything else unless he actually tries something."

"They never do anything until after someone's been attacked or raped or killed," Teikiatsu grumbled. "That's their idea of 'serve and protect'--don't do anything to prevent a crime, but only get involved after some freak puts someone in the hospital, or worse."

Nori sighed. "I bet the cops would jump right in if our parents were someone 'important,' but I guess we're not worth the time and effort to protect from a single sleazeball."

Corona nodded. "My boyfriend and I have run into that kind of crap plenty of times."

"Right." Kim shook her head. "My mom's a cop, but they won't let her help because she's 'emotionally involved.' She's doing what she can, but she doesn't have enough authority to stop this guy. She wants me to stay home and keep the door locked while she's at work, but I'm not gonna stop living my life because of this freak."

"I'm really getting scared," Nori said softly, staring at the glass between her hands. "We just know he'll show up here sooner or later."

"He started out just a little weird, but he's been getting worse lately." Kim ran a hand through her metallic orange hair and sighed. "We came here last night--the weaselly little creep had run us out of the Event Horizon, and we found this place a few days ago. We hadn't seen him since the Horizon, but as we were walking to our table last night, he appeared out of nowhere, reached out and shoved his hand up my shirt. Right up under my bra!" She shuddered. "He touched my tits! Just thinking about it makes me feel like I'm gonna puke blood."

Corona grimaced. "Whoa."

"I gave him a black eye for that one--but it didn't end there. We moved to a different table across the room, but a few minutes later we caught him staring at us from maybe ten feet away. He was licking his fingers and..." Kim twisted her face in disgust. "Licking his fingers and rubbing his crotch."

"Shit." Corona shook her head. She hadn't been alive long enough to completely understand human behavior, but she sure as hell wouldn't want some perv groping her. There was only one guy in the world who could touch her that way without getting clobbered. "Did you talk to the police again? He actually touched you this time, so that's assault."

"We did." Myaku threw her hands up. "They took our statements, filed 'em away and said they'd 'look into it.'"

Kim rolled her eyes. "Sure, they will."

"I'm not a cop," Corona said, "so what I can do is somewhat limited, but..."

"We just need you to make him leave us alone. Scare him off, if you can. Beat the living shit out of him, if you have to."

"I can do that." Corona nodded. "What does this guy look like?"

"We can do better than that," Myaku said. "We went to school with him, so we can tell you his name--Patrick Henderson."

"We call him Pervy Patty," Teikiatsu added with a grin. "And not just because of this, either. He was fucked in the head even when he was a kid."

"I snapped a picture of him with my phone. This was before the black eye, though." Nori took a photo out of her pocket and handed it to Corona. Corrie looked at it and raised a brow ridge. The stalker was a pudgy young man with short black hair and a round, smirking face. He was wearing a green pastel skirt and a matching jacket.

"I've seen this guy before, a couple weeks ago. I was visiting my boyfriend at work." She tapped a claw on the photo. "He went into the restroom and was in there for a long time. Jack checked on him to be sure he was okay, and caught him masturbating with a chocolate eclair that he'd swiped from the snack shelf on the way to the can."

The girls stared at her for a long moment.

Kim shuddered. "Jesus Christ!"

"Yeah, that sounds like something Patty would do. Back in high school, one of the teachers caught him humping a St. Bernard behind the school. And I'm not talking about an anthro like you--this was the non-sentient, four-legged variety." Myaku grimaced. "Anyway, since the cops won't lift a finger, we figured we'd try to find somebody else who could help. We thought an anthro would be more able to scare him off. Uh, no offense."

"None taken." Corona chuckled. "Do you mind if I hold onto this photo? I'd like to show it to a couple of my friends and see if they can help track him down." She grinned, letting her teeth show this time.

"You won't need to track him down," Myaku said. "He'll show up before we leave. He always does."

"Well, then, I'll just keep an eye on you from a distance until he appears. I'll handle him as soon as he tries anything. But it can't hurt to see what we can dig up on him; you never know when some little piece of info will be enough to put him away. I'll be right back. Just gotta find a net kiosk." Corona stood and looked around, spotted a row of kiosks on the wall near the bar, and walked over to the nearest vacant unit. She took her phone out and dialed the apartment that she, Jack and Taura shared.

Heh. Jack should get a kick out of this.

#

"So, how long have you been doing this?"

"Too damn long." Jack shrugged. "Almost four years. I started when I got out of high school, and it's all been downhill from there."

"You don't like it?"

"Nope. You'll see why soon enough."

Clark was silent for a moment before trying again. "I figure it'll take me long enough just to learn my way around here. See, I just moved here a couple weeks ago. Never been here before."

"Well, you're in for a few surprises, then." Jack turned a corner and stopped behind a battered old car that was waiting for a red light. He let his gaze wander as he waited for the light to change, taking in the sight of the headlights and taillights, street lamps, floating holosigns and neon lights that stretched on for miles.

Welcome to Neon City, the beginning of a bright new future. Jack had to suppress the urge to make a farting sound with his lips.

"Oh? What's this place like? I've been told it's not like other cities, but so far it looks pretty much the same."

"It's basically the same as anywhere else, except the mega-corporations that are based here pretty much run the entire city."

The light turned green and the line of cars moved again, then stopped. An old Ford Ranger had run the red light on the cross-street and almost hit the car in front of Jack. He sighed and continued speaking.

"Back in the beginning, this place was supposed to be different. It was a group of small towns with really shitty economies. Lot of people unemployed, everything just drying up. People started moving out--the ones who could afford to, at least. A lot of 'em were stuck here. They just didn't have enough money to leave."

Clark stared at him and shook his head. "I can't even imagine that. Where I'm from, everybody has a good job and can support themselves."

"Yeah, I'm sure they do. You've probably been told that people who can't get jobs are just lazy, or something."

"Well, yeah. It's not that hard to get a job."

"Not if there are jobs available in the first place, and if you're photogenic enough. But once you lose your home, it's almost impossible to get out of that hole. I've been barely hanging on all my life." Jack slowed, flipped on the left turn signal and waited for a break in the oncoming traffic. "Anyway, after everything went down the toilet here, a bunch of mega-corporations decided to buy up the whole area and split it up among themselves. I guess they wanted a place that had plenty of room for developing and testing new technology, where they could house their employees and provide stores for them, and all that crap."

"That makes sense. Makes it easier to do business."

Jack lost patience with the traffic, gunned it and popped the clutch, launching them through the intersection and causing oncoming drivers to hit their brakes and their horns at the same time. Jack ignored the honking and shouted obscenities, and tried not to scowl at Clark.

"They bought everything in a three hundred-mile radius--land, houses, businesses, everything--and evicted anyone still living in the areas they wanted to 'develop.' Then they demolished a lot of the residential areas, except for the rich neighborhoods, and built new homes for the employees they were planning to transfer in. I guess the idea was that they'd revitalize the area." He snorted. "Here we are, several decades later, and things haven't really improved. The corporations and a few rich families run everything here and their top-level employees have good lives--the city government is made of members of the founding corporations. But everybody else--especially the poor--is just left to rot."

Clark raised one eyebrow and stared at him from the corner of his eye. "You seem pretty worked up over that."

"Ya think?" Jack rolled his eyes and turned another corner, heading for Garfield Avenue. "I just resent being kept on the bottom because I'm not working for one of the big companies. I mean, my girlfriend can't get a 'regular' job anywhere because she's not human--to them, she's just a product of Biotek's labs. She and our roommate have to do freelance muscle jobs and get paid under the table just to make ends meet."

"Well, why don't you apply for a job with one of the corporations? One of them is bound to give you a chance."

"I have. Numerous times."

"And?"

"Well, I'm here, so obviously it didn't work. Maybe I'd get hired if I put on a suit and tie and mutated into a tool. And then I'd have to watch out for some asshole to stab me in the back so he can get that next promotion. Fuck that. I'd rather live my life my way. I don't kiss ass and play all those stupid games that those people have to play to advance their careers. If I cut my hair and dressed like everybody else and toed the line, I wouldn't be me anymore." He sighed. "I just get pissed when opportunities are denied me because of that. And for Corona and Taura, it's even worse--it's harder for them to get regular jobs because their legal status hasn't been determined yet."

"Corona and Taura?"

"Corona's my girlfriend and Taura's our roommate. They needed a place to stay after Biotek dumped them on the streets, and I happened to be in the right place at the right time. I let 'em move in and they helped with rent and other bills."

"So...you're dating one of those genetically-engineered...uh, things?"

"She's not a thing, damn it. Sure, she looks kind of like a dragon, but she's just like us in all the ways that matter." He spotted a street sign reading Garfield as the hearse roared past it, and he grimaced and felt like kicking himself. "Damn it, I missed the turn-off."

"Um, okay," Clark muttered, frowning. "She's a dragon?"

"Not really. She's got a lot of non-human traits because that's what the military wanted when they started those projects--bigger, stronger soldiers, built-in weapons like claws and fangs." Jack sighed and spun the wheel, taking the next turn-off and planning to go around the block to get to the customer's house from the other side. "She has two arms and two legs, walks upright like we do, and all that. But she basically looks like a dragon. Claws, wings, tail, digitigrade feet--the works. And our roommate, Taura, is a minotaur."

"Oh." Clark nodded slowly and gave him a nervous glance from the corner of his eye. Jack shrugged and kept talking.

"So neither of them have much hope of getting a normal job. Like I said, their legal status isn't official yet. They're not even American citizens--hell, some people are still arguing over whether chimeras have souls or not--and even without all that, a lot of humans are just afraid of them."

"Uh-huh." Clark shook his head. "And why would you want to...ugh...be, you know, intimate and stuff...with one of those th...um, chimeras?"

"Because I fell in love with her," Jack snapped. He made another turn and headed for the next intersection. Then he decided to have a little fun with Clark. "And because I like the way she roars when she has an orgasm."

Clark grunted and twisted his face into a grimace. Jack grinned and turned onto Garfield, then scanned the fronts of the houses until he found the correct one.

"Okay, here we are." He parked and shut off the engine.

"Wouldn't it be better to leave the engine running?" Clark said as they got out and dropped to the pavement. "Then you could just hop in and leave when it's done, and you'd have less wear-and-tear on your starter."

"In some areas that'd be okay; in others, not so much." He looked around. Like many neighborhoods that weren't corporate housing, this street was lined with battered old vehicles, dry and poorly-maintained lawns, and houses that weren't exactly up to par, to phrase it politely. Still, he'd seen--and lived in--worse places than this.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"The last time one of our drivers left her engine running while she delivered a pizza, somebody ganked her car. She went back to where she'd parked and it was gone. The cops found it a week later, filled with cigarette butts and empty beer cans."

Clark's mouth fell open, as if such a thing had never occurred to him before. Which it probably hadn't.

"What?" he finally mumbled.

"See, that's one of the surprises I said you were in for." He walked across the front yard and Clark followed him

"Uh...right." Clark shrugged. "But I honestly can't see anybody trying to steal a car like yours."

"Yeah, I doubt there are that many people who'd want to drive around in something like that. Besides, it wouldn't exactly be hard to find if someone did steal it. But there'll always be somebody, somewhere, who'll try to jack it or take something out of it just to fuck with me." Jack reached the front door. "Okay, try not to get in front of me. I'm gonna record this in case anything weird happens."

"Record?"

"With these." Jack tapped a finger against his right eye. "I record video clips of my more irritating customers and sell them to make a few extra bucks. A couple of my friends do a little podcasting in their spare time, and they've managed to land a few sponsors to cover their costs. They've had a few bucks left over after paying the bills in the last few months, so I sell 'em clips of my customers. They post the clips on their website, and I'm told that they've gotten quite a response from the audience." He chuckled. "With all the fuckedupness I see every day, it's a pretty steady source of income."

"Oh. Well, that's good." Clark grinned suddenly. "I've been wondering about your eyes, actually. My dad works for a company that makes things like that, but I don't think they do solid-black ones like yours. Just natural-looking ones."

They reached the front door. Jack rang the doorbell before responding to Clark's comment.

"I got mine from someone who doesn't work for any of the corporations. He just has his own small operation. Does cybernetics, other electronic stuff, works on vehicles and other equipment."

"Ah. I bet you could've gotten a better price from an official dealer, though. Pay a lot for those?"

"I doubt I would've paid less for top-of-the-line models. Besides, I couldn't go to one of those places because I don't have medical insurance." He aimed a scowl at Clark. "I can't afford it. So I had to borrow the money for my eyes."

The door opened before Clark could pry any more, which was a relief. Jack didn't want to explain how an unlicensed cyberware dealer had access to technology that the megacorporations had barely touched yet. Not that he actually knew, himself. Cybernetic eyes, and other body parts, had been around in various stages of their evolution since before he was born; a lot of progress had been made since then. Still, none of it was quite as advanced as Jack's eyes, or so he guessed from the stuff he'd seen in Warren Hu's workshop.

Jack had a few guesses about how Hu had acquired the stuff he worked with, but none that he cared to discuss with anyone he'd known only a few minutes. He began recording and tried to smile at the customer, a guy in his sixties, and didn't care much whether it looked convincing or not.

"Hi." He glanced at the OLED on the top of the delivery box and rattled off the total.

"Uh...how much?" The guy blinked at him.

Jack sighed and repeated the amount. Oh, yeah, this is gonna be a good one.

The guy stared at him and Clark a moment longer, then said, "Why don't you come in while I write the check out? It's gonna be a minute."

Jack glanced into the room and saw two other people, a man who appeared to be in his thirties and a girl who looked around twenty. Jack used his eyes to check for heat sources just to see if anyone else was in the house, and found one human-shaped heat signature behind the door. He stepped through the doorway, peeking around the edge of the door as he did so. The other person was an old woman, sitting in an armchair and looking at him with eyes that couldn't quite focus properly.

She pointed in the general direction of the guy and mumbled, "He'll write the check out. I can't see real good, so I can't do it myself."

"Ah. Okay." Oh, boy. Jack held in another sigh and waited for the old guy to hobble over to the table and start writing out the check. He glanced at the younger guy and noticed that there was something a little off about his face, just like the girl.

The girl lifted a handful of sunflower seeds to her mouth, but wasn't able to get them in; they rolled off her hand and sprinkled onto the ugly brown carpet, and the girl began chewing even though her mouth was empty. She didn't seem to notice.

Jack watched her chew air for a few moments before shifting his attention to the old guy, who was still scrawling slowly on a check. Meanwhile, the younger man turned and held his hands out, expecting Jack to hand the pizza over. Jack shrugged and opened the box. It wasn't as if he couldn't handle these people if they tried to pull something. He took the pizza out and gave it to the guy, and kept watching--and recording everything he saw.

He glanced at Clark and saw him hovering near the door, fidgeting and looking as if he might bolt any second. Jack chuckled and returned his attention to the older man.

Finally, the guy finished the check and tore it out of the checkbook. He hobbled over to Jack and gave it to him. Jack glanced at it long enough to be sure the address was printed on it and the amount was correct. It was--the exact amount, in fact.

Jack stuffed the check into a coat pocket. "Thanks." He turned toward the door and walked back to Cthulhu. Clark hurried to catch up with him.

"Oh, my God," Clark moaned. "That was weird."

"I bet there's some inbreeding going on in that house. Those people look like they stepped out of the deepest, darkest corner of Garth Ennis's imagination."

"Garth who?"

Jack stopped in his tracks. "Let me guess--you don't do much reading, do you? At least, not the classics from last century?"

"Uh, no." Clark shrugged. "I read a lot of sports and car magazines, though."

"That's what I thought." Jack got back in the car. He had to resist the urge to drive off and leave Clark standing by the curb, and just waited for him to climb in. When Clark closed the door, Jack started the engine and lurched away from the curb, heading on toward the next delivery and wondering if it would be even more fucked-up than this one.

The way his luck usually ran, it was probably a sure thing.