J.L. Doty - Dead Among Us 01 - When Dead Ain’t Dead Enough (32 page)

Paul managed to get his voice down to a growl. “So everybody thinks I’m going to be the cause of the destruction of civilization?”

McGowan glanced at him apologetically. “I just wouldn’t assume that there is anyone who isn’t out to kill you. Well  . . . you can count on me and Colleen and Katherine and Clark. We’re on your side. That’s why we’re going to see Clark.”

“Clark?”

“Ya. Clark Devoe?”

“Who?”

“Gun shop owner. You met him when you came to his store. And then again the night you took out that Secundus. That was a nice piece of work, I might add. Earned you a few brownie points among my colleagues. That’s why some of them won’t  . . . well  . . .
might
not try to kill you.”

McGowan pulled the car into a parking spot in front of
South-bay Guns and Ammo
. Paul remembered the place from his one and only visit. It was still rather seedy, a simple unassuming store front with a neon sign. And it needed a coat of paint.

McGowan pulled a briefcase out of the back seat, nodded toward Paul’s shopping bag containing his Sigs and said, “Grab your stuff, kid.”

Paul followed him into the shop. It had only been a few months since he’d first wandered into the place and it hadn’t changed, a long row of glass display cases running down the right side with handguns displayed under glass, racks of rifles on the wall behind the cases. Along the left wall were racks of ammunition, clothing, holsters, cleaning kits, all sorts of paraphernalia.

The plump female with frizzy, unkempt hair sat behind the counter toward the back. She was wearing another moo-moo, or maybe the same one, and eating something out of a plastic refrigerator tub. “How ya doin’, Mr. McGowan,” she said around a mouth full of food. “Clark’s expecting you. Go on back.”

Clark Devoe was waiting for them in the back room. He looked to be in his mid-sixties with shoulder length gray-blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, and three or four days of stubbly beard growth. Paul thought he might be wearing the same old army fatigue jacket and NRA cap he’d had on the first time Paul met him.

“Mr. McGowan,” Devoe said, shaking McGowan’s hand.

He turned to Paul, shook Paul’s hand in a hard grip, said, “Nice job you did on the vamp.” He looked down at Paul’s shopping bag. “Let’s see what you bought.”

Paul upended the bag on a nearby workbench. Both Sigs were in their hinged, blue, plastic, factory cases. Devoe opened one, lifted the weapon, ratcheted the slide back, then quickly field stripped it, removing the slide and the barrel. He sighted carefully down the barrel. “This is good hardware, little expensive, but a good choice. And it looks like you’re cleaning it and oiling it properly.”

Devoe went through the same process with the other Sig. Paul apparently passed muster on that one as well. The man questioned him a bit on his background as a child hunting with his father, was happy to hear he’d gone through a couple thousand rounds at a gun range to get the feel of the two weapons. Devoe wasn’t so pleased with the holster. “This is ok, but it could jam you up a little, slow you down in a pinch. Leave it with me for a few days and I’ll make a few mods.”

McGowan opened his briefcase, handed Paul a small card and an envelope full of paperwork. “That’s a CCW permit—to carry a concealed weapon—for the state of California. You don’t know it but you applied for it and received it several months ago.”

Devoe nodded toward the card. “Those’re hard as hell to get in this state. Mr. McGowan has connections.”

Devoe gave Paul a pump-action sawed-off twelve-gauge and a couple hundred rounds of his “special double-ought.”

Paul looked at McGowan and Devoe and said, “Where’s the Uzi, and maybe a fifty-caliber machine gun? I could mount it on the floor of my living room to cover the front door.”

Devoe frowned and looked at McGowan. “Kid ain’t gonna live long if he don’t start taking this seriously.”

He watched her walk to the bus stop, the beautiful little Mexican girl. Watched her carefully and couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Her parents had dressed her in a blue pinafore over a white blouse, and white knee-high stockings ending in shiny black shoes—very
Alice in Wonderland
. He loved
Alice in Wonderland
, not the story but the girl herself, wished Alice were real so he could love her.

The little Mexican girl’s parents must be very proud of her, must love her very much. She had incredible raven-black hair that hung past her shoulders, flawless olive skin and almond shaped eyes. He thought she might even be more beautiful than the little blond, and that brought a pang of guilt. It felt like cheating to desire the little Mexican girl more than the little blond, a horrible act of infidelity.

No
, the voice said, a faint hiss somewhere deep within his soul.
She is the one.

Yes. He’d loved the little blond so much, but now she was gone and he so desperately needed someone to hold, someone to share his affection. But this one would be different. This time he would just watch from afar, admire her, love her even, but never touch her. He didn’t want to hurt her. She was too beautiful to be hurt. He just wanted to hold her closely, tell her how much he loved her, how much he needed her.

Own her. We must have her, all of her, nothing held back.

“No,” he snarled, closing his eyes, grimacing as he tried to shut the voice out of his soul. “Not this time. Please not this time.”

Yes, always. Look at her.

He opened his eyes. The young girl had stopped to talk to a boy her own age, a little blond white kid.

Imagine touching her, caressing her carefully, running your fingers along such delicate, flawless skin.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes  . . . yes.”

Once she knows how much you love her, how deeply you care for her, she’ll love you back, love you with all her heart.

He could see that she must have a loving heart, a kind heart. “Yes  . . . yes, she will.”

Other books available by J. L. Doty:

A Choice of Treasons (hard science fiction)

To save himself, he first had to save two empires  . . . but when he tried, his options were limited to a choice of treasons.

As a lifer in the Imperial Navy, York Ballin’s only hope at an honorable discharge is the grave. Matters only get worse when he finds himself deep behind enemy lines on a commandeered imperial cruiser without a trained crew, commanded by an incompetent nobleman, with the empress and 200 civilians as passengers, and everyone hell-bent on turning them into a cloud of radioactive vapor.

The Thirteenth Man (hard science fiction)

Beware the curse of the thirteenth man, for should he not fall, all may fall before him.

Charlie Cass returns from five years in a squalid POW camp to find the nine Dukes and the King conspiring against each other, and plotting with Charlie’s old enemies. As interstellar war looms, he’s forced to assume the mantle of the thirteenth Duke de Lunis, who, according to legend, is destined to fall beneath the headsman’s ax. But if he can survive the headsman, all may fall before him.

About the Author

J. L. Doty was trained as a scientist and studied optical physics and engineering, earning a Ph.D. in Electrical Engineering. His specialty has always been laser science and laser physics. He spent all his working life in various facets of the laser industry including a number of years in research and development, even working briefly on laser weapons in the early ‘80’s. For the last twenty-five years, he has been writing fiction in stolen hours on the weekend, or on long flights overseas.

When writing science fiction, Jim is sometimes hindered by his deep knowledge of laser physics, and for that reason you’ll never see a laser weapon of any type in his science fiction books. In fact, you can visit his website to read his
rant on laser weapons
, and how they are almost always badly misused in science fiction. You don’t have to be an engineer or physicist to understand it, and you might find the information on lasers of interest.

Jim lives with his wife and their three cats in Northern California where they are horribly spoiled by the weather.

Visit the author’s website at
http://www.jldoty.com

Follow the author on Twitter at
http://www.twitter.com/@JL_Doty