Flame Riders by Sean Grigsby

Author:Sean Grigsby [Grigsby, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780857669117
Google: RaYmEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 085766901X
Publisher: Angry Robot
Published: 2021-06-21T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

They’d turned Wrigley Field into a redneck version of the Pentagon.

Metal sheets in various stages of rust had been welded at the top of the stadium along the outfield. A roof enclosed the rest of it. The famous red sign that hung on the Field’s corner at Clark and Addison was still there, but the digital square had been smashed. Words had been laser-slashed over the part that had read “Chicago Cubs.” The sign now read “Wrigley Field Home of Ash Kickers.”

“Jesus Christ,” Brannigan said. “Are you guys Cardinals fans?”

“Cleveland all the way,” Afu said, his eyebrows tilted downward, serious as a heart attack. “But we didn’t do most of this. After the Nusies took over, the city turned the field into an emergency shelter or something. We’ve had to replace a few of the outer sheets, but it’s mostly as is. They dug up a whole level of bunkers and stuff under the diamond.”

“Goddamn,” Brannigan shook his head sadly as he looked out the window. “This place used to be one of the wonders of the world. Sherry dreamed of playing here when she…”

The old man drifted away from his sentence and I decided to change the subject. “How do you get in and out?”

“It’s right here,” said Tamerica. “Didn’t spot it before, did you?”

I still didn’t spot it.

Renfro turned left toward the building and stopped on a sharp decline. Ahead of us was a wall of those metal sheets. I wondered if we would just barrel through with the cannon truck. Renfro hit the yelp siren briefly, and ten seconds later the door rose outward on hydraulic lifts.

A thin man with long hair and glasses stood on the other side. A dimly lit, tile-lined tunnel reached into the depths behind him. The man wore a long-sleeved forest green shirt over a band tee – one of those black metal bands whose illustrated name looks like every other black metal band’s illustrated name. His jeans were black and his boots were brown. He looked like a roadie, but the brainy kind who worked the lights and pyrotechnics.

Renfro pulled the truck inside Wrigley. While the door closed behind us, the man in the metal shirt walked around to Tamerica’s window.

“Hey, man,” Tamerica said, leaning out on her arm.

“You guys have a good outing?” the man said. I couldn’t see him from where I sat.

“We got a lot more than we bargained for,” Tamerica said. “Hop in and we’ll give you a ride back home.”

“All right,” the man said, lazily, as if she’d offered him a potato chip. The door beside Afu opened and the man climbed in. He sat beside Brannigan and gave the old man a nod. He looked at me and did the same. “You guys are new. You smoke eaters, too?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Yeah, we are.” Brannigan’s voice had entwined with mine. It earned the old man a few points towards getting off my shit list. I felt included.

Renfro drove.

“Cool,” the man in glasses said.

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