Nightstalkers by Bob Mayer Read Free Book Online Page A

grape soda.” Carter regretted the words as he spoke them.
    Mac laughed. “Buddy, no one wants a grape soda, but one time me and this hot little cheerleader, all we had was some Jack and some grape soda, and it worked then. It’ll work now,” he added, nodding toward the rusting soda machine leaning against the side of the station.
    Carter went over. The peeling labels indicated he could get Dr. Pepper, Pepsi, Orange, or Grape. Twenty-five cents. He reached for his pocket, then realized he didn’t have any change. Before he could turn, Eagle called out.
    “Just push the button. And make sure it’s grape. You don’t want the orange, trust me.”
    Carter hit the grape button.
    With a hiss of escaping air, the soda machine slid to the side and a stairway beckoned, cool air blasting out.
    Carter hesitated.
    “You got eight seconds,” Eagle added as he took a shot. “Or it will shut on you.”
    Carter scooted down the stairs and the door slid in place above him. He caught his bearings for a second, then continued down. He reached a landing, noting the unblinking eye of a camera staring at him. There was someone at the other end of that camera and Carter shivered for a second.
    There was a steel door facing him, one that just screamed “try and blast me open and let me laugh at you.” The door slid aside and a gray corridor beckoned. A figure filled the corridor. Short, built like a power-lifter, dark skinned with an acne-scarred face, gray hair, and an attitude that said he was the one who ran things. The well-worn handle of a machete poked over his left shoulder from a sheath on his back and he had an MK-23 strapped to his right hip, tied down with a strap around his thigh.
    Carter stiffened to attention as the door slid shut behind him.
    “We don’t do that shit here,” the man said.
    The door behind opened once more and the three who had been playing basketball pressed by, paying Carter no heed.
    “I’m Nada.”
    Nada?
Carter thought. “I’m—”
    “I know who you think you are,” Nada said, “or else you’d be a pile of ashes back there on the landing.”
    Eagle laughed as he looked over his shoulder at the end of the corridor. “Best to forget who you were and focus on who you will be.”
    “That’s real fucking Zen-like,” Mac said.
    “Follow me,” Nada ordered. “And drop that bag. You won’t need any of that shit.”
    They went down the hallway and into a large circular room with dull gray walls. There were several tables in it, along with whiteboards, flip charts, corkboards for imagery, and a row of lockers. The three from outside were stripping off their soaking shirts.
    “You’re meeting Ms. Jones,” Nada said, stopping in front of a surprisingly flimsy and ill-fitting door, the antithesis of everything Carter had seen since entering the complex. “You listen to her very carefully.”
    The door to the left opened and a tall woman in fatigues stepped out. The way Nada shifted his posture, Carter realized with surprise that he answered to her, so he stood a little straighter.
    “I’m Moms,” the woman said.
    Moms?
Carter was trying to take it all in.
    “I was just telling him to listen carefully to Ms. Jones,” Nada informed her.
    Moms nodded. “Listen to her offer. Then you get to say yes or you get to say no. There’s no shame, no blemish on your record for saying no.”
    “No is the easy way,” Eagle yelled from across the room.
    “No is back to the world,” Mac added.
    “Hush,” Roland scolded the other two. “Moms is talking.”
    Moms put a hand on Carter’s shoulder. “You understand?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    Mac laughed. “He ain’t got a fucking clue.”
    Moms nodded at Nada. He rapped on the flimsy door, rattling it on the hinges. Then he swung it open and indicated for Carter to go in. “Take the seat in front of the desk. Do not get out of the seat until dismissed, then come straight back out here. Anything else and I’ll kill you.”
    He said it so