At the City's Edge by Marcus Sakey Read Free Book Online Page A

Army, too. Then, on the other side, the little storefront diner,
     one of the front windows spiderwebbed so that you couldn’t read the specials, something about two eggs and ham on the bone.
     Michael’s bar was supposed to sit between them.

    But somehow it had been exchanged for a reeking ruin.
    Timbers twisted and scorched into bubbles of ash lay amidst bricks licked black by flaming tongues. Fire had eaten everything,
     left behind only a charred carcass. A twisted gothic cathedral decorated with spires of cinders and rubble. Firemen moved
     through the debris like acolytes of flame.
    Some part of Jason expected to hear foreign tongues, the alien wailing of the women. He’d lost count of how many burnt-out
     buildings he’d seen, of the missions to secure-and-contain, of triaging tiny broken bodies and calling for the medics. For
     a moment he found himself back in it, boots on the ground in the desert’s wrathful heat. Sulfur in his nostrils and sweat
     in his eyes. That was the world to which this kind of destruction belonged. Half a world away amidst people who spoke a different
     language, worshipped a different god. That was where buildings burned out, where survivors were left to gape at the ruins
     of what had been real.
    Not here. Not
his
brother.
    And on the heels of that thought, another. Billy.
    Idiot!
    He jerked to the curb, screeching to a halt in front of Lauretta’s shop. Scrabbled at his seatbelt, then unbuckled his nephew.
     ‘Don’t look.’ He pulled the boy out of his seat, dragged him into an awkward embrace. ‘You don’t have to.’ Billy was light
     as rags, warm and shuddering rags. His breath came heavy
and wet, spit and snot and tears soaking the shoulder of Jason’s T-shirt. They sat in the rattle of the air conditioning,
     Jason holding his nephew, stroking his hair. Telling the boy not to look even as he himself stared.
    The tattered heap of dense charcoal running down the center must have been the bar, where yesterday he’d shared a beer with
     his brother. The ash sparkled, and it took him a moment to realize it was shattered glassware. And there, in the back, he
     could make out the brick wall, now half demolished, that marked the storeroom. Somewhere back there was the trap-hatch that
     led to the basement, from the days of bootlegging, when the place used to be a speakeasy. He remembered sitting in that basement
     after a day’s work hauling shit out of it, Mikey pulling out a bottle of Black Label and toasting –
    The rap on the window threw him into combat mode. He spun with one arm up, the other tightening protectively around his nephew.
    A woman, big, in a sundress of turquoise and bright orange. Lauretta, owner of the salon and part-time babysitter. She was
     squinting, her face drawn with concern. He shook his head to clear the memories, his own traces of clinical shock. Understanding
     could wait. Now he had to act. He rolled down the window.
    ‘You all right, honey?’
    His head felt light, like it might float away. ‘What happened?’
    She gestured at Billy, and then shook her head.
‘Why’n’t you come inside?’ She gave him a sad smile. ‘Get William here a Coke.’
    He nodded. Sunlight splashed like molten iron as he stepped out, hoisting Billy with him, careful to keep his nephew’s face
     buried in his shoulder. Inside the shop, barber’s chairs ran along a mirrored wall. On the other side there were tubs that
     looked like you might put your feet in them. A customer relaxed while her stylist wove extensions into her hair.
    Lauretta led him through a curtain to a narrow room where a couch faced a television, the sound on mute. Jason lowered the
     boy, Billy’s grip on his neck tightening at first and then loosening as Lauretta came alongside. Billy sat upright, the muscles
     of his body rigid, his eyes darting. When they settled on Lauretta, he seemed to relax.
    ‘There you are, baby.’ She changed the channel to the Cartoon Network, opened a