'The, uh,' the brown cap stammered, 'the Chamber of Commerce.'
'Small business is the backbone of this nation,' the Civilian intoned, putting every spare watt of power he had into the look of gravitas on his face. 'Carry on, good man, carry on.' He reached for Clark's arm and pulled him away. When they were out of earshot of the brown cap he hissed at his wonk. 'We are so out of here. I'm not a very bright guy but I know one thing: when the local troopers start talking about weird and unexplained deaths, it's a short walk to doomsville. Las Vegas is going right down the shitter and I am not sticking around to watch. Is that clear?'
'The girl may be here,' Clark protested.
'Yeah, and Wayne Newton might be doing three shows a night but you will not put me in danger for your personal obsession. Don't cross me on this, Bannerman.'
Clark frowned. 'Alright. Our chopper is waiting in the other terminal. I suppose we should get back to Florence.'
He had his orders.
He didn't have to like them.
Monster Nation
Chapter Fifteen
mike oppenbach, fought gators and bears in his life but this was too much. he was a good man to have with us when it hit the fan. real handy with a gun and a machete and he never complained. guess that's all i got to say [Eulogy carved into a makeshift grave marker, Emeralda Marsh, FL 4/16/05]
'Step right up, folks, this is no time for the bashful. All the money you give tonight funds further research; we also take medicines and pharmaceuticals of the illicit kind. One to a customer, it's all you need. Guaranteed to keep you dead.'
Nilla sat on a bench outside of a CVS pharmacy and watched what was happening in the parking lot with a critical eye. She was in the right place'this was the main distribution point for the vaccine in Las Vegas. Her informants'a couple of teenage kids out after curfew and scared shitless of her brown cap'had not steered her wrong. Yet she couldn't believe that so crucial a program could be run like this.
'He that believeth in me shall not live forever. Step right up. This little pill, this red and perfect ellipsoid, is the cure to what ails modern man. Thank you sir, please, tell your friends. One quick jolt and you're safe forever. Step right up.' The barker stood six and a half feet tall and he was as wide through the shoulders as a professional wrestler. The waxed ends of an enormous mustache drooped from his face: up top he was going bald. He wore a stained baja shirt with bandoliers crossing his chest, sealed film canisters stuck in where rifle cartridges should be.
His associates weren't as outlandish in appearance, but they had their eccentricities. They worked out of the back of a passenger van airbrushed with stars and moons and galaxies. Two men, one thin as a rake and twitchy, his head moving from side to side constantly as if he expected to be attacked at any time. The other pudgy and withdrawn. The former took the money from the block-long line of people waiting in the parking lot, while the other handed out thick capsules full of something sparkling and red.
'One to a customer, no greedy folk need apply. This is the love, the love you've been looking for. Who knew it came in pill form. Maximum love, step right up!'