Dues of Mortality by Jason Austin Read Free Book Online

off. The two of them tumbled
over the sofa and thudded to the floor. The man’s grip
loosened. Glenda’s incisors then found a fat chunk of palm and
she bit into it like a famished tiger. Not wanting to draw attention,
the man muffled his wail with his sleeve. Glenda spat out the
leathery skin and swiftly rolled over into a superior position. She
then let loose a firestorm of knuckles and fingernails, beating him
gangland style. This was her home, she thought. Her
home! Who was this
prick to come breaking in and... uhhhh!!! The violation! Bastard!
    To
the intruder the flurry of blows was painful but still quaint. He
jolted his thighs upward and Glenda toppled sideways. He then grabbed
a huge handful of her hair, and snapped her head backward. She threw
back an elbow and, by the grace of god, hit him square in the
testicles. He let go, clutching his crotch and wheezing
asthmatically. Glenda then sprang to her feet and dashed into the
kitchen. The ugly beast sucked in a helping of air and raised from
the floor. He clumsily charged the still flapping swing-door madder
than shit. When he pushed it open, he was bonked dead on the nose
with the fatty part of a flying pork roast and its remains of piping
hot bathwater. His hands padded his scalded face and he let out a
gurgled scream. He lunged forward, grabbing blindly for his would-be
victim. Glenda stepped aside, allowing him to list into the kitchen.
She leaned heavily into her swing. The pot skipped off his skull,
with the ring of a cathedral bell. The underside of the man's chin
caught the kitchen counter as he fell. He hit the floor and lay
still. If the pot hadn’t already knocked him cold, the
counter's uppercut certainly had. Seconds later, Glenda was in
perverse spasms, gripping her priceless cookware and standing over
the intruder's motionless form as it defaced her decorative tile. He
was a pug-faced linebacker of a man. He wore a tacky suit and had
skin like stale chocolate. His head was so polished it was like
looking into the sun with naked eyes. He'd breathed on Glenda at some
point and she was certain he had the kind of halitosis that could be
smelled from orbit. Glenda backed up through the swing door and hit
the direct police line. She then exchanged the pot for the old
Louisville slugger her father had given her when she moved out. She scoffed at the sophisticated front door locks on her way back and
noticed the closet door was wide open. The asshole must have been
watching her the whole time, saw her with her arms loaded and didn’t
hear the lock reengage. Jesus, the one time she didn’t lock it
right behind her. How long had he waited inside the closet? Was he
watching her sleep? God, maybe her father was right: you had to have
eyes in the back of your head if you were going to live on your own
in the city.
    “ But
I won ,
you asshole,” she shouted at the sharply-dressed lump. “I
beat you!”
    She
poised herself over the body, club-over-shoulder, like a caveman
warrior atop a fresh kill. If he so much as twitched, it would be a
home run.

Chapter 6

    Jerome
Wallace barely acknowledged Mai Ling Chow as he approached his office
lobby in a huff. His stride remained seamless as he asked if Gabriel
was inside—no dirty-old-man look, like she was used to getting
from him—and Mai Ling could practically see the steam geysering
from his ears as he goose-stepped toward her like one of the soldiers
in her mother's old home vids from China. She gave a quick, “Yes,
sir,” and Wallace entered his office, leaving her to await the
severed head that was certain to come rolling to her feet.
    Once
inside, Wallace made a beeline for his desk. He ventured behind it,
but refused to stand still. His lips were intractably curled over his
tall stalks of teeth and the most motley shade of rouge had overtaken
his features. It seemed as if he was silently counting to ten in
order to prepare himself for that revolting look of serenity he just
knew was beaming like a full