Cygen

Iris Santiago
picked up the ringing phone, clipping the receiver to her ear as she washed out
the inside of a glass.

“Evening, this is Hot Ashes for Dreams, Iris
Santiago speaking. No, we do not have Prince Albert
in a can, and Seymour Butts is not in attendance. How can I help you?”

“Iris? It’s
Lochinvar. I couldn’t get Nathan…”

“Lochinvar! Damn,
didn’t think we’d be hearing from you again. You have a HELL of a lot of
explaining to do. Nate’s pretty broken up about your
unexplained disappearance…”

“No time. I’m in
trouble…moreover, one of my closest friends is. I’m at the corner of 127^th
and Ripley…”

“Not a nice
neighborhood, kiddo.”

“I know. It wasn’t
my idea to come here. Long story. But Valhalla’s Outcast
have my friend… I think they might offline him in a permanent fashion.”

“So you need
help.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t suppose
calling the cops would accomplish much?”

“They might come
for viking activity, but probably not for something this minor. He’s yellow
light.”

“I’ll see what I
can dig up. You sit tight, I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll see if I can’t
get Nate, too.”

“Iris?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

And then the dull
click of the receiver on an old-school payphone striking home. She sighed,
gritting her teeth. She knew it, just knew it… There was something nasty going
on. Nathan SHOULD have run a trace on the kid the moment he went missing… no
help for it now.

“Hey Bruce? You
feel like cracking a few skulls?” she called to the corner, where one of her
bouncers was taking his half-hour break.

“Do I ever not?”

“Thought so. See
who you can round up… it’s time to go play superman.”