Henchman: a Novel by Apollo Villa-Real

Author:Apollo Villa-Real [Villa-Real, Apollo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2017-06-08T12:00:07+00:00

“Argh,” Amstel cried.

I clapped Elias’s, mine, and Amstel’s backs against the warm concrete wall and snagged my phone from my pocket. I swiped to a screen that projected static snow to check for psychic assaults. If one were initiated, the snow would manifest an image. Nothing appeared, so all clear.

I turned to Amstel. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just a code word.”

“Code word? Argh’s not even a word.”

“It is to me, H. It is to me, and I’ve got my reasons.”

I waited for him to elaborate. And waited. And waited. I knew we were way up against it. Hell, on the eve of the final night of the magic convention, it took us a good twenty minutes blending in with conventioneers in the crowded night streets of downtown. Another fifteen of slinking through back alleyways just to generate a cold trail before we arrived at Pigley’s Parkers, a two-story parking garage with a maximum space of twenty-one and one-third vehicles. But I … just … had … to … ask.

“What reasons?”

“Thanks for asking. I’m a recovering OCD-er. When I get nervous, I tend to want to repeat things. Argh refocuses my mind.”

He accompanied his next words with a pseudo kata of air slaps and air elbows that were so far removed from his fluid Arnis maneuvers earlier. “A is for always focus, R is for really focus, G is for go focus, and H is for hey you, focus.”

Yup. I had to ask.

“This place is super creepy,” Amstel said. “What’re we doing here?”

“What we’re doing here is getting you and Elias a ride topside,” I answered.

“Yeah? In what? This place is empty,” he noticed.

“Looks deceive for a reason.” I signaled Amstel to stay with Elias. The guardian had been real quiet and compliant our entire trek here. Not sure if that was a good or bad thing.

I stepped away from the wall and trudged over to an empty parking spot, my bare arches all achy and sweaty. I missed my Allen-Edwards big time. Kid had a point about the creepiness. Pigley’s Parkers had been around since, geez, since I first got here during the greasers and hot rod era of the fifties. It’s been consistently the same ever since. A few cobwebs here, cracks in the foundation there, and two stories of cramped but empty dilapidated abandonment. That and flickering fluorescent lamps with enough dark corners for boogeymen to rent out. This place embodied the perfect spot to stash a getaway vehicle known only to me. I still trusted Giordi and Gigi all the way. The rest could go the way of demons and poisoned applesauce. But … and this is what you call a humongous derrière … I always, always needed to leave some alone time just for me. And Pigley’s Parkers was one of those deep, dark corner secrets I needed to keep all to myself. Call it a survival mechanism.

It took me a couple of swipes to clear away the static snow from my screen. When I tapped to get

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