“Anything I can do to help?” he ventured. “Nevin. Nevin Martell.”
“Well, Mr. Martell,” Ms. Wilson began, and then didn’t say anything for a while. She had obviously noticed how young he was, too, despite his demeanor, his attempted swagger. “I’m sure we can handle this. The question we both have on our minds,” she continued, indicating me inside the car, “is why you’ve been following us.”
“You noticed,” Nevin said, offering an innocent, insincere smile.
“We noticed,” she replied. “Those shades you’re wearing. They’re a signature element of a gang we’ve heard about. The Shadow Clan. Ever heard of it?”
“Can’t say that I have,” Nevin said. “Colorful name, though.”
“So are your shades,” she said. “You’re still wearing them.”
“It’s dark, I know,” Nevin said. “My choice.”
“So you say,” she said. “I’ve said we can handle it. There’s no reason for you to remain here.”
He reacted more quickly than I expected he would, but I was quicker. One kick was all it took, to the back of his head, and Nevin Martell was out cold. I took the moment to be proud of myself.
“Wipe that smile off your face and help me put him back in his car,” Ms. Wilson instructed. “We could have gotten him to talk.”
“I heard your whole conversation,” I said. “I didn’t think he was ever going to be forthcoming. I also didn’t find him very convincing.”
“On that point we agree,” she replied. “By the time he wakes up, we’ll be long gone.”
Not so much as a pat on the back, but I expected as much. She was slamming the hood back down as I was getting back into our own car. I didn’t pay attention again until we were back in civilization.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
#384. excerpt from Yoshimi
My current manuscript, Yoshimi, concerns an orphan who discovers the truth behind the death of her parents, and subsequently finds herself thrust along an unlikely path of vengeance.