Thicker Than Water — читать онлайн бесплатно полностью

In winter this is easy, just wrap up head to toe, pull on a ski mask and some sunglasses and go. I’m not saying it’s comfortable, but it’s easy and you stay inconspicuous. I’ll be OK once I get to the subway, but it’s four blocks from here to there, and once I get uptown it’ll be another few blocks to their offices. It’s those blocks between the subway stations and the front doors I worry about.

I know a guy wears a white delivery-boy outfit with whiƒ€utfit wite latex gloves, a big wide-brimmed white cowboy hat, and zinc oxide all over his face.

It keeps him pretty well covered, but even in Manhattan he gets looks. Me, I use a burnoose.

I pull on the boots, baggy pants and shirt, then the robe. The headpiece always gives me fits and I have to relearn how it wraps every time I do this. Once it’s on and feels like it won’t unravel and fall off, I slip on white cotton gloves, draw the veil across my face, put on my shades and head out. Sure I get eyeballed a bit, but who gives a fuck, no one can see my face.

What I do care about is getting to First and 14th fast as I can. Even with all this cover, even with it being white and reflecting the sunlight, even though it’s only four fucking blocks, I’m still getting the shit burned out of me by the short-wave UVs. And this isn’t like the cuts I got last night that close right up and are gone in the morning. This hurts like hell and is gonna take days to heal. And if a patch of bare skin should happen to get hit by some direct rays? Well, I just need to be careful that doesn’t happen.

So I walk fast and think about aloe and ice-water baths while my skin gets roasted and my eyes tear up behind my shades and I make it to the station and rush down the steps to the sweltering, but dark platform."

"The uptown guys are making a point. They could say what they need to say on the phone. They could wait for dark to rip me a new asshole, but they want to make me burn a little.

They want to flex and teach me a lesson for getting sloppy. That’s what’s on the surface anyway. The real reason they’re doing it this way is because I still haven’t joined the Coalition. And the truth is, I haven’t joined exactly because of shit like this. But I did get sloppy last night, and someone is gonna swing for it. So I’ll fry a little to keep them happy and to keep myself alive. Because I don’t want to die. Except, oh yeah, I’m already dead.