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“I texted one of my boys who works there.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You have phones?”
She snorts. “Sweets, you are way behind. We do, yeah. The disruption only lasted several months after the Change. We are all connected to the local network. Mr. Chancellor’s, of course. He controls it all.”
No surprise here.
“My guy will bring a staff badge. Not sure how your face will match up, but that’s all you got. They don’t check thoroughly at Ayana checkpoints. The security has gotten too lazy lately. They say it has something to do with Crone. He is not well, is he?”
That’s the first I hear about it. “What do you mean?”
She shrugs. “He is getting wild and over the top. Losing it”—she taps her temple with her forefinger—“or so the rumor goes. You know what I mean? Butcher’s gang sabotaged their surveillance at the northern entrance a month or so ago. Though, of course, no one points fingers at them. Savages are his scapegoats.”
I’ve heard that name. Butcher took over Port Mrei when the mayor died. He has some type of agreement with Crone. But Crone is a businessman, and Butcher is a thug with a gang that rapes the city with racketeering and violence.
“Shepherd has some beef with Butcher. So there is a gang war of sorts starting up. There was a riot two days ago.”
“Who is Shepherd?”
“Butcher’s cousin. Comes here often. But they are peas from different pods.” She sighs. “There are too many dirty dealings in this town, and it’s only a matter of time before shit hits the fan. And”—she arches an eyebrow—“the Westside. Trust me. It’s been a long time coming.”
I am surprised she talks this way about Crone. He is indestructible. But I haven’t seen him in a while. So maybe that’s changed and heisturning into a lunatic.
“So I’ll get you the badge by, say, early afternoon?” Candy says, her willingness to help making me all emotional and shit. “The third-shift bus takes off at around six. You can stay in one of the rooms until then.”
I nod in appreciation.
“A client’s room. You remember those.” A low chuckle escapes her throat.
“Good old days.”
“Yeah.”
To be fair, I did more talking in this place back in the day than anything else. Guys used to have a rowdy time with the girls. I mostly hung out at the bar, talking to Candy and enjoying feeling human and around people other than the Outcasts. Why Candy is helping me is a mystery. Maybe, one day, I can repay her.
“What’s the plan when you make it to Ayana?” she asks, lighting another cigarette and offering me one.
The bar is cloudy with smoke, though by now, we are the only two people here. There is no ventilation. The place smells of booze and old wood. It echoes with our voices. And the smoke is laced with Candy’s overly sweet perfume. But I like it—being back in civilization has never felt so good.
“Getting my girl and coming back,” I say, trying to burn my tiredness with the sharp inhale of cigarette smoke. “Hopefully, getting the hell out of this place for good.”
Candy smiles, shaking her head. “Of course, it has to do with a girl. Always does. Women…”
“You know how it is.”
She chuckles. “Sweets, I run a whore house. In a town where the ratio of men to women is four to one.” She clicks her tongue and takes another drag, silent for a moment, then pops a smoke ring out of her mouth. “It’s peculiar to see men who are roughed up and went through hell get hung up on my girls. Men want wives, children. Now, after the Change, even more so. Like they are on a mission to fulfill the basic human cycle.”
“It’s the promise of something good amidst all the shit,” I say, thinking of Callie. “As if having a person to lean on and bonding will somehow ward off evil or some shit, you know? Like a lifeline?”
Candy doesn’t answer, and when I raise my eyes from the glass, she is squinting at me through the cigarette smoke, her eyes smiling. “The pretty boy is in love, huh?”
I chuckle and look away.
“What’s on the mainland for you?” she asks, suddenly changing the topic, and my sweet thoughts about Callie dissipate.
I shrug. “Anything, really, as long as I don’t have to deal with that psycho.”
She knows who I’m talking about.
