A Voice So Soft by Patrick Lacey

Author:Patrick Lacey [Lacey, Patrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781941918531
Publisher: Grindhouse Press
Published: 2019-12-02T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

BENEATH THE SURFACE

“IT’S JUST UP HERE,” MIKE Mallory said. He climbed two sets of stairs and turned the corner toward yet another hall. There were small windows along the way, offering views of Boston Harbor. Shawna wondered how many of Angie’s fans were in the city this very moment. No, not just fans. What was the term they used?

Glitter Critters.

She didn’t like the moniker. It brought to mind other things aside from fanatics. Aberrations that defied every law of the physical world. Joints with too many angles that housed limbs with too many claws.

By the time she climbed the second set of stairs she was sweating and not just from the exercise. A cold sweat. A fear sweat.

On the right lay a doorway. She caught the back of Mike’s feet as he stepped inside. Music filtered into the hall. Hip-hop of some sort. She peeked her head in and saw what looked like a small recording studio. A console with infinite knobs and switches and faders. Two laptops sat nearby, sound waves flickering on the screens.

Behind the console was a window overlooking an even smaller room. The walls were lined with mesh foam. Sound-proofing. Two strangers occupied the studio. The first was a man of perhaps twenty-five. His body was covered in tattoos, many crudely done. A dollar-bill sign rested under his right eye, like he cried money.

The second stranger was perhaps twenty years older. His beard and wavy hair had gone prematurely gray and his glasses were much too big for his sunken face. The professor, she assumed.

Mike whispered something into the older man’s ear and he nodded, held his hand out. “Gary Foster. Nice to meet you.”

She studied his fingers before shaking them. Her gut insisted this was a safe space but she wasn’t counting anything out. “Hey.”

“You’re her sister?” Gary studied her, probably shocked at just how different twins could be.

“In the flesh.”

“I’m glad you’re here. Come in and shut the door. We have a lot to talk about and a short time to do it.”

Mike beat her to it, closing the door and locking it.

“Would you like some coffee?” Gary adjusted his glasses as they began to droop down his nose.

“I’m fine,” she said, though her eyelids told a different story. They felt plastered to her pupils, shutting on their own accord. It had been a long, sleepless few days.

“I’ll grab you a cup anyway,” he said. “Just in case. I suspect we won’t be getting any rest for a long time.”

Before she could ask what he meant, he turned toward the man sitting down. “Curtis? Three coffees if you don’t mind.”

“Am I your servant now?” The man—Curtis—stood. He touched the nearest fader and turned the music down.

“We don’t have time to argue. Just get it, will you?”

Curtis adjusted his backwards Red Sox hat and walked through a side door she hadn’t noticed until now. He made a show of it for the professor, let him know he wasn’t happy.

“I apologize for him,” Gary said, keeping his voice down.

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