The Spy's Little Zonbi by Cole Alpaugh Read Free Book Online

serious hell to pay. He’d put the fear of god into a couple of editors and a few lazy-ass reporters who couldn’t find City Hall unless someone there had just made a doughnut run. Get your butt canned from this place and see where you landed. There wasn’t much further down to go from here, except rags like that piece of shit cross-town weekly.
    Lord knew he caught his share from the publisher and the ad manager. Newspapers, run by people who only cared about the bottom line, were dying a slow death. Editorial content came halfway down the list of priorities, just ahead of the assignment of parking spaces. In a recent meeting the ad manager had the balls to suggest his reps take over the spots nearest the employee entrance so they could get to their daily rounds on time. To hell with covering fires and car wrecks, let’s make sure his people max out their monthly commissions.
    Mack had considered punching the ad manager in the nose when he’d demanded he kill a story about the local Junior Chamber of Commerce president being charged with embezzlement because it would cast an ugly light on the entire downtown business community. Mack saw their publisher quietly nodding off across the table. But Mack was an expert when it came to knowing what kind of newspaper you landed at when you got your ass fired from a place like the Daily Times . He’d sat through the last twenty minutes of the meeting thinking about next Sunday’s fishing trip out of Pocomoke City.
    Butterfish punched the silver knob to dry his hands in hot air. He calmed down a little. It was always better to have someone else to blame. As he tucked in his shirt, he wondered how it had gotten so filthy. He hoped he’d left his tie draped over his office chair instead of inside the greasy printing machinery. His wife had taken pains to let him know she’d gone to the ends of the Earth to find the perfect sixtieth birthday gift. God knows a man’s life wasn’t complete without a closet full of striped ties. But if it was lost, then so be it. Just like the Post was going to have to live without a feature package and sunrise procession photos of his dead driver.
    Butterfish emerged from the men’s room feeling cool and collected, half of the chewing out speech to his city editor already written in his head. Calling the Post with an apology could wait an hour or two. Happy to kick the can down the road a bit, he decided to wait for them to call him.
    â€œ You were asking about the photo internship, right?” Mack peeked beyond his new intern into his glass-walled office. His tie was nowhere to be seen.
    â€œ I’m supposed to start today.” Chase had left the night editor’s desk and approached Butterfish like he was a strange dog who might bite. Mack liked being feared and the edge that came with it. Once the fear was gone, the bullshit had a way of creeping in and things didn’t get done on time.
    â€œ Limp’s our chief photographer and he’ll show you the ropes. You’ll go out with him for a week and then you’re on your own. Work fast and keep people in focus. That’s all I need, nothing fancy.” Mack motioned for the kid to come with him. “There’s plenty of old gear to get you started.”
    The kid followed Butterfish to a locked closet outside the darkroom as he pawed through his ring of keys. He wondered if this kid would survive a summer of Limp’s nonsense. Before shoving the key into the lock, he took a good look at his new intern. You just never knew these days. When Mack had recruited spies, he looked for crew cuts and football player shoulders. This one looked like he was about to pick up a guitar and sing “Hey, Jude.” But he’d been wrong before. Maybe the kid would make the cut.

Chapter 5
    A fat man in a thong became Chase’s mentor.
    Times Chief photographer Limp Shockley went out of his way to make people uncomfortable. One of