Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

BOOK: Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
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Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
J. L. Murray
Hellzapoppin Press (2012)
Rating:
****

Niki Slobodian sees things -- things that aren't supposed to be there. Labeled an Abnormal by New Government, her name is tacked onto the Registry, which seems to be getting longer these days. Now she can't work or she'll end up the same place as her father: in prison. But with no money coming in, Niki's getting desperate. 

So when a mysterious client offers to get her off the Registry in exchange for taking his case, Niki jumps at the chance. All she has to do is round up a homicidal Dark that's escaped from Hell and is cruising around the city in borrowed bodies. The murders are piling up, with Niki's notorious father somehow involved, and Niki's running out of time. And it seems the Dark isn't the only thing that escaped...

Between the Devil

and the

Deep Blue Sea

by

J.L. Murray

 

Copyright (c) 2012 by J.L. Murray

 

All Rights Reserved.

 

Kindle Edition published by Hellzapoppin Press, Honolulu Hawai’i.

 

Cover art by Ronnell D. Porter

http://www.wix.com/ronnelldporter/design

 

 

Table of Contents

 

Beda ne prikhodit odna.

(Trouble never comes alone.)

—Nazar Polzin

 

Chapter One

It’s not like the movies, where they don’t know they’re dead. They don’t often haunt people or places for revenge, and as far as I know they don’t befriend lonely children. Usually. If you could see them, you might not even know them from some of the living. Empty-eyed and looking around at the world like they can’t believe it’s all still there and going on without them. Or maybe they’re seeing it for the first time. This city is full of ghosts. I can see them all. Lucky me.

They don’t flush in the heat of summer, or run for cover in a rainstorm. They don’t smile or frown, and they don’t have a smell. There’s no rush of air when they walk past you. And they’re everywhere. After a time, I could tell them by sight, in an instant. I try to help them when I can. But I have a rule. Living trump the dead. Always. And Sofi was still alive. At least for now.

It wasn’t that late, but it had been a hard winter. I watched my breath swirl out of my mouth and dissipate in the air as I walked briskly through it. Even most of the prostitutes and drug dealers had gone in for the night. I’d seen a few hardy girls, shivering in short skirts and thin, fur-collared jackets. They shied away when they saw me coming. If they didn’t know me, they usually knew of me. And if they didn’t, it didn’t take long before they learned I liked to be left alone. The cops had taken most of my guns when they put me on the Registry, but I still had a little Beretta Tomcat I kept close to me. Not my favorite, but it was the only one the police didn’t find. No one ever suspected the Bible these days, and they didn’t suspect mine, which looked like an old family Bible but was hollowed out in the middle. More than enough room for a gun and a whole lot of bullets.

I pulled my collar up as it started to drizzle. Drops of water like newly frozen ice ran down my neck. I stopped and looked around. I knew this neighborhood. I used to come here as a girl with my father. I was a long way from my apartment, but that suited me. It was hard to be there without Sofi. It seemed hollow without her. At least she was warm at the hospital. I heard the deep horns of boats on the river.

Warehouses lined the streets, corrugated tin and drab painted wood as far as I could see. I lowered my head, keeping my eyes on my boots so I didn’t have to look into the empty eyes of the rough-looking men that any Normal would swear were not even there.

The drizzle was turning into something more sinister. Big slushy drops fell from the sky, splashing a rhythm on the tin rooftops. I felt my hair getting heavy and I was shivering. I was pretty sure no cabs would come into this neighborhood, even if I had cash for the fare.

I felt the cold rain soaking my clothes, and my hair slapped against my face. I was chilled to the bone. This was going to be a terrible walk home. I started to turn, but a red glow caught my eyes. I looked and saw something absolutely, thoroughly out of place. It was also the most welcome thing I had ever seen.

In between two rusty abandoned warehouses, as if it had pushed its way in like an extra tooth, was what appeared to be a bar. Flashing red neon across the width of the neat little brick building read
The Deep Blue Sea.

“Where the hell did that come from?” I couldn’t remember anything like it from when I was a kid, and it seemed incredibly out of place. I couldn’t even imagine how they would drum up enough business around here to even stay open. The only regulars they would get would be types like my father. Criminal types. The kind of men that visited deserted warehouses in the middle of the night. What was a bar doing there?

I didn’t care. I ran across the street, putting my arms over my head to try to shield myself from the freezing torrent.

If I were less experienced with my ability, I might say that it wasn’t a building at all, but the ghost of a building. It looked like something from fifty years ago, the kind of bar frequented by cops and firemen. Or some other previously-upstanding occupation, before all the New Government bullshit. But now it just looked odd. It was from a time that had more than passed, it had practically been forgotten.

As I got close, the place seemed to shimmer a little, but it could have been the neon in my eyes. I got to the door and it seemed real. Solid and cool to the touch. There were no windows, nor any cars parked in front. A tattered cardboard sign hanging on a rusty nail read
OPEN, Come On In!
I pushed on the door and it creaked like a wounded animal. It was dimly lit, but seemed to be open, just as advertised. I walked through the door.

The Deep Blue Sea was, to all appearances, just an old sleazy bar. The scuffed-up floor was littered with cigarette butts and peanut shells, and the dim lighting couldn’t hide the suspiciously dark stains on the lone pool table. But it was warm and dry, and for that it might as well have been Heaven. I approached the bar at the back, the scratches, dents and gashes in the wood obvious from halfway across the room, but more garish the closer I got. The stools were once red vinyl and chrome, but the silver had turned to rust, and the padded vinyl was crackly with age and coming apart. I gingerly sat down, sloshing as I did so. I’d have a drink, maybe wait out the rain, and then go home. As far as I could see I was the only patron here.

The bartender got slowly off her stool at the end of the bar and, moving stiffly, set her burning cigarette in the ashtray. Her spine was bent and she looked like her bones were frail. She tottered over with an irritated sigh and glared at me through thick spectacles.

“Well?” she rasped.

I raised my eyebrows. “Well, what?” I said.

“Well, what do you want?”

I dug in my pocket. I fished out two soggy dollar bills, two quarters, a dime and three pennies. I dropped the money on the bar. “Can I get a whiskey with this much?” I said. I smiled apologetically, something that didn’t come naturally to me.

The bartender rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she said. “One on the house.”

“Thanks.”

She turned to grab the cheap plastic bottle behind her. “So what is this place?” I said. “I’ve never noticed it before.”

She turned back around and reached slowly for a small glass. She looked at me again with those raptor eyes. “Can’t you read?” she said. “Deep Blue Sea.”

“Yeah,” I said. “But has it been here long? I used to come here all the time with my dad when I was little, and I don’t remember this place.”

She set the drink in front of me. It was on the rocks. Maybe the cheap stuff went down easier when it was cold. She narrowed her eyes again. “You gotta be kidding me,” she said. “Why the hell would your dad bring you to this neighborhood? Was he some kind of gangster or something?” She barked a harsh laugh.

I looked at her. “Something like that,” I said.

She shrugged. “Sorry. You don’t look the type is all. This place has always been around.”

“So it’s been here for a long time?”

“No,” she said, clearly annoyed again. “I mean the Deep Blue Sea is always somewhere. Not always in this place, but somewhere.” She turned her back to me and hobbled back to her stool. She picked up her burning cigarette and took a deep drag.

“Some storm,” said a deep voice next to me. “Came right out of nowhere.” I jumped and turned around. A man was sitting on the stool next to me, complete with a pinstriped suit. He smiled at me, flashing teeth that were too white and too many.

“Where the hell did you come from?” I said. I was pretty sure I would hear the caterwauling of the hinges if someone came in the door, and as far as I could tell there were no restrooms in the place, which was another oddity for a bar.

He shrugged, still smiling. “No matter. Don’t drink that, let me get you something that won’t eat through your stomach.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Don’t bother.”

“Nonsense,” he said, gesturing to Janis. “Don’t worry, I’m completely harmless.”

“I’m not,” I said. “Harmless, I mean.”

“Which is exactly why I want to speak with you,” he said. The smile was gone, replaced by a solemn expression. When he wasn’t smiling idiotically, he was kind of handsome. His eyes, I wasn’t sure what color they were, but I felt as though they could burn right through me if I let them. I looked down at my cheap whiskey and wrapped my fingers around it. I raised it to take a drink.

“Come now, Niki,” he said in a low voice. “I know you’d prefer a Jameson, wouldn’t you? No ice, I believe.”

I paused with the glass of shitty whiskey halfway to my lips. “You know a lot,” I said without looking at him. “You stalking me or something? You don’t look like a cop.” I tipped the drink back, letting it burn all the way down. He was right, it was horrible. Not at all how whiskey was supposed to taste. But I tried hard not to wince and set my glass back on the bar with a thunk.

“I’m offended, Ms. Slobodian. I think you would know in a second if I worked for the police, especially after the lesson you learned last time. You suspected your last client, didn’t you? Pity. Put it out of your mind, though. I represent an organization that trumps all of the people that have been giving you so much trouble.”

I finally looked him over. I saw that his suit was tailored, expensive probably. His shoes shone, the dim lighting glinting vaguely off them. I could have used them to put on lipstick. If the bar seemed out of place in the neighborhood, this guy was practically an alien. “Organization?” I said. “I don’t know who you are, buddy, but if you really know so much about me, you’d know that’s the wrong thing to say.” I put my arms in my jacket.

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