Hot Revenge Box Set 4

Chapter 52

Klempner

What's the obsession with potatoes?

I called her Potato Face when she was a kid.

What does she look like now?

Jenny was no looker at that age…

… But she matured. Bloomed.

Juliana... Never the same twice.

I scratch at my beard. I’ve never liked facial hair in hot climates, but I don’t have a choice right now. Even so, the flourishing colony of lice that has stowed aboard adds an extra edge of irritation.

Lice…

Where the fuck did they come from?

Can rat lice live on humans?

Having a fucking good go at it…

I catch one, squeezing the revolting thing between my fingernails. It bursts with a Pop!

Only another 999 to go…

*****

The boredom’s the worst. Endless hours. Endless days and nights. I’ve no idea how long.

The only breaks in the monotony are Juliana’s visits: just long enough to sit, eat something at me, toss a potato at me.

No, not Juliana: Solana.

Why's she so obsessed with the name?

How many names have I used over the years? Worn like a suit of clothes to be discarded when the weather changes and something different is needed.

I’ve never been defined by my name.

But she sees it differently…

Something skritches and I jerk a look sidelong

It’s a rat…

Just a rat…

down

It’s just a rat…

openings, more scratching. And

if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will

Who said that?

Nietzsche?

Depressing bastard…

case, the abyss comes equipped with teeth and whiskers. I come equipped with fists

*****

you know what

She takes something from her lunchbox, unwrapping one of

a kidnap or hostage

“You saying you're

tilts. She pretending mockery, but I have her attention. “… But there's a reverse condition. It's called

“So?”

I your only

my friend?” The napkin produces a brigadeiro. A flake of chocolate cracks off

why do you keep coming

in her chewing, mouth hanging a little open.

coming? If all you wanted was to watch me rot, you have your camera there.” I jerk my

have to feed you. I assume you do want me

potatoes and come once a week. Or even, once a month. But, so far as I can reckon, you're

“Am I your only friend, Sola? Is that it? You've murdered everyone else

head, giggling. “So, you're my friend are

hooker? You've not changed, Larry. I can see right through you. The same heartless bastard that shipped me out to dig up potatoes for the rest of my life.

sits back in her seat, arches her brows. “I am

to have changed. Who ever really changes?” I raise my gaze again, look into her face. “Have you changed

“Solana…” she hisses.

no more. Instead, she stands, the lunchbox tumbling from her lap. The contents spill and scatter over the rancid concrete, some of it dropping

her heel, she stalks

chain snaps taut, I snatch up the discarded meal from the filthy concrete, scrabbling to grab broken fragments of meat in one hand, a cake with the other before,

green blink of the camera. It

only a single bite taken from the corner. And I have half of

not eaten anything like this

For how long?

idea. Weeks? Months? My sense of time is

had a

of empanada, then another, I ram the food into my

and suddenly I’m no longer eating, but

gagging on my scavenged meal, I barf it

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