The Courier (San Angeles) by Gerald Brandt Read Free Book Online Page A

their way of dealing with the water shortages. Maybe trying to make up for the excess they used on the fish.
    The people separated for a second, and I pulled in, parking my bike as close to the big window as possible. I always liked to keep an eye on it. Then I locked the bike and walked around the corner and into my favorite delivery joint, Northern Dragon Chinese Cuisine. The place was a hole in the wall. One table with a couple of plastic chairs, a short counter, and plenty of woks on the stoves behind it. The sign outside had been broken for years; if you came here, it was because you already knew it existed. I liked it because the owner, Kai, refused to use MSG. The crap gave me migraines. Kai had known my parents before they died, but we never talked about that.
    I paused just outside the door, rubbing my shoulder under the jacket, trying to put a happier look on my face. The shoulder didn’t feel too damaged, nothing a bit of rest wouldn’t heal. I pulled the door open with my left arm. “Hey, Kai, how’s the night going?” I thought I sounded pretty good. Normal, at least.
    The old man behind the counter looked up, a sudden smile making the crow’s feet around his eyes deepen into crevasses.
    “Kris. Long time no, eh? You don’t come in here much anymore. Old Kai thought you had found another place to eat.”
    I put my helmet on the counter and grinned, no longer trying to fake it. The old man always cheered me up. He was at least a tenth-generation local and still had an accent. His mannerisms and dress all spoke of the old country. Where he learned how to do that was anyone’s guess . . . maybe he actually went back for a visit one time. More likely, he watched one too many old kung fu movies. Level 2 people didn’t have the money to travel.
    “You know I wouldn’t go anywhere else. You’ve got the best ginger chicken this side of Level 7.”
    “You know I do! Now, what can old Kai get for you?”
    “Whatever is hot and ready. I’m tired and I just want to go to bed.”
    Kai’s face lost its smile and he leaned in close. “You work too hard. You need to learn to relax and go out once in a while. My grandson is about your age. You two should go out on a date.”
    “I’m already seeing someone.” The lie felt wrong when I said it to him. I’d had boyfriends, of course. The last one got me into being a courier, even giving me my first bike. I replaced the bike at the same time I dumped him.
    “Better than my grandson? I don’t think so. You come here tomorrow at supper and take a look at him. You’ll like what you see, I promise.”
    A small chuckle bubbled from my chest. “I might just do that.”
    “Good.” The smile came back. “Now, you sit and I bring out your food.”
    “I don’t really have—”
    “No excuses! You sit and relax and eat a good meal.” He gave me a gentle push to the table.
    What the hell. There was nothing much to do at home anyway, except sleep. Last time Kai had insisted I stay, he had joined me at the table. The food and the company had combined to make a memorable evening. I sat down and picked up a pen lying on the table,twirling it between my fingers as I waited. The sound of something hitting hot oil came from over the counter and my mouth started watering.
    Kai’s talk of boyfriends made me think of Jake. He was the last in a string of bad guys. Older guys. Back when I thought I couldn’t get by without someone, a man, to help me. In some ways, he was the worst. In others, the best. When he wasn’t in a drug-induced rage, his guilt came through. He taught me how to ride, and when I turned sixteen, gave me a motorcycle and walked me into Internuncio. Dispatch gave me a job that day, delivering crap until I passed my security check. When I found out the bike was stolen, I got rid of it as fast as I could, selling it for enough money to pay for my current one. My current bike was older, but solid and legal.
    Kai brought over plates of food, and we both