Dream City Ch. 09

I picked up my cycle and continued my search for young Prudence. I asked around, showing the hologram in every public place I could locate. As usual I came up empty. Either people didn't know or too scared to tell me anything. After all the excitement I didn't have time for breakfast, and my stomach was already empty as a deep hole.

Before I did grab a bite to eat I stopped by Steve-O's Pool Hall, who I happened to know the owner personally. There were already a few people inside playing pool, stinking up the place with cigars and cigarettes. The owner behind the bar spotted me right away, with a frustrated look on his face. The customers looked at me like I didn't belong there. I guess my reputation precedes me.

Steve-O was another I put away, only this time there was no bounty to collect. Steve O'Donnell was his full name; a car thief and I know a lot about that. The problem with him was he made one huge mistake. He tried to steal my car one day until I caught him in the act, slapping him around for doing just that. He earned himself a one way trip to Seagull Island, leaving his carjacking days behind. What's ironic was Steve-O used to be my neighbor, and the very apartment he lived in is now occupied by Rita.

"Yo, Steve-O," I said, "long time no see. If you're not too busy I'd like to have a word with you."

He turned his back on me. I guess he was still sore after sending him on an island vacation.

"Don't be rude," I told him. "You know I don't like that."

"Johnny," he said, "go away, I'm not in the mood."

"Oh, you're not in the mood to talk to me, yet you were in the mood of running your mouth in public, am I right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Just go."

"Is that right? Well, how about I grab you from behind the bar and slap the shit out of you? Will you'll be talking then?"

"I think you're losing it, Johnny. The job must be getting to your head. Maybe you ought to retire and get a real job like us normal folks."

Steve-O may act bad and tough all he wanted, but in the end he's a straight out pussy. He had no idea what I'm capable of doing.

"So," I said, "how was your stay at Seagull Island? Huh? Did you meet some friends along the way? Had a few lovers? How many times did you get down on your knees or dropped the soap? I bet you had fun times dressing up in drag, singing happy birthday to the fellas. I'm sure everyone got the full birthday special."

"I want you to leave," said Steve-O. "I don't know you. I don't want to know you anymore, and if you're trying to intimidate me, don't waste your time. I'm a lot smarter than that."

"If you were any smarter you wouldn't have tried to steal my car. I'm not leaving until you and I have a moment alone. We can do it here or we can do it outside, it's up to you. Now hurry it up because I'm starving, and I hate skipping breakfast."

"You and I have nothing to say. Absolutely nothing. Sending my ass to prison was unforgivable, and if you're expecting me to forgive you, go fuck yourself. Now, are we done? I have a business to run and I don't want you scaring away the customers."

"You got no one to blame but yourself. Trying to steal my car, right in front of me? Not very smart. You made it way too easy to catch you in the act. You know, it's a nice little joint you have going. It's too bad it'll be in pieces after I'm done here. If you don't have insurance, then you're totally fucked."

"Hey!" Some old tough guy wannabe shouted. "Leave the man alone, before you get thrown out."

I had to admire the old guys I encounter. Despite being past their prime and out of shape, they're always anxious to be in a fight just to let people know they still have it.

"Hey, gramps," I said politely, "do yourself a favor and mind your own business."

"The hell you say to me, boy?"

"Boy? You're a long way from home, cowboy. What happened, you got tired of picking up shit at the dude ranch?"

"Wait up," said another, rising from the very table the old guy sat. "I know you. I knew you looked familiar."

The guy stood almost nose to nose with me, trying his best to act the part of a real tough guy. These guys just love getting hurt.

"You don't look familiar," I said, "so who the fuck are you?"

"I'm the guy whose brother you tossed in the pen years ago."

"Yeah, which one was that? Is that the killer, pervert, robber, psycho, am I getting close? How about the rest of you? You got any brothers, fathers, sons, girlfriends I put away?"

"I waited a long time to get my hands on you."

"Well, prepare to wait even longer."

He threw a punch and I ducked. I struck back driving two knee shots to the abdomen and slamming his face against the stool.

"Anybody else got a problem with me?" I said, when another rose from his seat. "Huh? I'm here all day."

"I got a problem with you," he said, "you sent my old man up the river."

"Really? Your father? I've put away a lot of fathers. What did he do, beat up women or sell narcotics?"

"He warned me about you. Johnny Octane. The big bad bounty hunter of Dream City. Always sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Always yapping his big mouth and putting good people away."

"Hey, it's not my fault they get tabs on their heads. They do the crime, I go after them. So, unless you committed a crime I suggest you sit your ass back down and keep your mouth shut until I'm done talking to the owner."

"A crime? You wanna see a crime? I'm about to commit one right now."

The prick took his turn, receiving a spinning kick, knocking him flat on his ass. Two more came at me and down they went. Another one came at me with a cue stick. I picked up the cue ball from the nearest table, throwing it straight at his nose.

"My nose!" He screamed, dropping down on his knees, bleeding on the floor.

The cue stick he dropped I picked up, using it on the next guy running towards me. He gasped for air once I delivered the blow to his throat and then breaking the cue stick over his head. Anyone else that wanted a crack at me fell back. Smart move on their part. Of course the old guy didn't follow their lead. He wanted a shot before I stopped him in his tracks, pointing the broken stick at his face.

"You wanna dance, old timer?" I asked.

The old man backed off, sitting his fat ass back down, finishing up his beverage. Since there were no more interruptions, I got back to chatting with Steve-O whether he liked it or not.

"Hey!" Said another, who happened to come through the door by the last minute. "Yeah, you you fucking faggot. You got a problem with my friends, you got a problem with me."

It never ends when you have a target on your ass. Instead of a sparring match, I charged at the guy, sending both of us straight through the front window, damaging Steve-O's precious neon sign.

"What the fuck?" Steve said.

The guy I tackled remained on the pavement with the wind knocked out of him. I climbed back inside, wiping some of the glass off my coat.

"So," I said, "before we were rudely interrupted, how about that talk we're going to have?"

"You're paying for that window," said Steve. "You're gonna pay me for that window. I'm warning you for the last time. Turn your ass around or so help me something bad is going to happen to the rest of your body."

I laughed at his supposed threat. Steve was a big loser, but I never figured him as one to crack jokes.

"You know Steve," I said, "I've had a long day and a long night. I'm so fired up right now that I can hurt you in so many ways you couldn't even imagine. So, let's try this again."

"What are you going to do, kill me? That ain't part of your job description."

"Let me show you my job description. Come here."

I leaped onto the counter, grabbing Steve's collar and pulling him out from behind the bar, knocking down a few glasses and mugs along the way.

"Make a hole," I said, "make a hole."

"Get the fuck off me," he complained. "Take your hands off. Fuck! Don't fucking embarrass me in front of my friends."

"You have no friends."

I dragged him all the way into the men's bathroom, throwing him onto the floor, sliding towards the last stall on the left. The facility was occupied, but I needed some privacy.

"Everybody," I said, "get the fuck out. Now!"

Two guys ran without finishing washing up, and another barely had time to pull up his zipper.

"Are you nuts, Johnny?" Steve-O said. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"I told you," I reminded him once again, "I want to have a word with you. So, are you up for it?"

"What? What do you want?"

I pulled out the holo disc, showing him the image of Prudence.

"Have you seen this girl?" I asked.

"No. No, I've never seen her in my life."

"Are you sure about that? You don't want to think about it for awhile longer?"

"I told you I don't know who she is. Is that why you dragged me in here, if I knew this girl?"

"Oh, no it's not just that. It's about three inmates you bunked with. You remember, Mumbo Jumbo, Zane Six, and Nick Flame? I ran into all three of them most recently. Real nice guys. Really good with their toys. What's funny is for some reason they knew where to find me, and the only person I know that could give them directions was the same dirt bag who went to the same prison as they did. Let me give you a hint, he's right in front of me."

"Now hold on."

"You can't lie yourself out of this. I know it was you, so start talking or I'll continue redecorating your little establishment."

"All right, all right. Yeah, I told them where to find you. Anton came to me three days ago. I told him where you live and the places you go to."

"Including Mulligan's Stew?"

"I had no choice. He was going to blow my head off. He was going to kill me, man."

"He did a fine job killing Frankie Mulligan."

"Wait, Frankie The Ferret is dead?"

"You don't catch up on the news, do you? Yeah, he's dead. The place was repainted with his blood. Hey, I didn't tell you to stop talking."

I would rather see Steve-O dead than having him spill his guts to the unholy trio.

"The following day," he continued, "Zane dropped by. He said he would cut off my balls and shove them down my throat unless I told him where to find you, and I did. Then Nick came by about two hours later. He told me he would burn the place down with me in it. What the hell was I supposed to do?"

"You fucking pussy."

"Call me whatever you want, but I'll be damned if I die for your ass."

"You know, Steve, you always have that annoying habit of running your mouth. They probably found you so easily because you blabbed about going into business. Better yet, you shouldn't have put your own name on the window. You practically put a bullseye on your own ass. I'm gonna tell you right now, you better hope no one else from the island pays me a visit. You better be dead before another inmate of yours drops by to see you, or I'll personally put you out of business. Have a nice life, Steve-O."

The guys I struck were still hurting, struggling to get back on their feet. The one with the bloody nose used a batch of napkins to stop the bleeding.

"Some ice should clear that up," I told him.

The asshole outside started waking up, getting up on his knees, shaking the cobwebs off.

"You got glass in your hair," I said.