The Darkness - Jason Pinter [77]
second not making money.
They exited the building into the early sunlight,
Morgan squinting as he took out the cell phone to wait
for the location of their next customer.
"That went easy," Theo said.
"Yeah. Hope they're all like that."
"I'm sure some of these freaks will be a little more
strung out than our man up there but just remember that
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all they want in the end is the stuff. They don't want to
haggle and they don't want a lot of fuss. Some of these
guys might have coke muscles, but if in the end they
think you're going to hold out on them, they'll bend faster
than an elbow."
"I hear you."
"So what's the next stop?" Theo asked.
Morgan looked at his cell phone, reception returning
after the elevator fiasco. He had one new text message.
Morgan pressed Retrieve Messages, and an address
appeared on the screen.
"That can't be right," Morgan said.
"What? Where is it?"
Morgan checked the time and date it was sent. The
time stamp was dated just minutes ago, while they were
stuck in the elevator.
"Hold on, I need to confirm this."
Morgan went to the address book and dialed the
number marked Home. A strange, deep, robotic voice
answered. It was clearly being masked by some sort of
voice-altering technology.
"Yes?" the voice said.
"Hi, uh, this is Isaacs and Goggins. We just wanted to
confirm the address just sent to us."
"Three-forty East Nineteenth. Apartment five A," the
voice said.
"Yeah, um, that's where we just left."
"And that's where you're going back to."
"Uh, okay."
The voice explained the situation to Morgan, who
stood there, eyes widening. He understood everything
that was being relayed, but couldn't understand why it
was happening so quick.
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Jason Pinter
He didn't know what was in those little black rocks,
but it must have thrown pajama dude in 5A for a loop.
The other line went dead. Morgan closed the phone
and put it back in his pocket.
"What was that?" Theo said.
"We're going right back upstairs," Morgan said. "That
guy we just sold to, he took one hit of the Darkness and
put in an order for half a dozen more rocks at the standard
price. Guy said it was the best high he's ever experienced."
"Good for him, good for us," Theo said.
"And," Morgan continued, "after we're done here
they're sending over another address where the customer
wants another ten. Home base said to expect a lot of
Darkness deliveries today."
"Another hundred and fifty bucks for five minutes'
work," Theo said. He tried to whistle, but again it came
out more like an aborted attempt at a raspberry. "Let's not
keep the man waiting."
"Agreed," Morgan said. He felt a strange sensation,
and for a moment couldn't place it. Then, as they were
about to reenter the brownstone, it occurred to Morgan
the last time he'd felt that singular feeling of joy, confidence and ambition.
The day he got his first paycheck at his old job. That
was the first day he truly felt like he was going to
conquer the world.
"Let's hurry it up," Morgan said. "But this time let's
take the stairs."
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"Always makes me smile a little," Jack said.
"What does?"
"Tourists. They spend thousands of dollars to see this
city, but they really know nothing about it. You don't get
a sense of Manhattan by taking pictures or sitting on a
double-decker bus."
"Not everyone has had the fortune of being at gunpoint
in Vietnam," I said. "For some people this is as close as
they can get."
"I suppose," Jack said, "but sometimes I wonder if I
even understand the city after all these years."
"Are you still thinking about Paulina's article?" I asked.
"A little. I never used to get scooped, Henry. Every time
I went out for lunch, I could feel a dozen eyes on me,
hating me. They were other reporters, and they were staring
daggers through me because they knew I was working on
stories that they'd never get. They'd be working mop-up
duty on yesterday's page seven while I was breaking news.
It's a great feeling to be hated for doing your job well.