Highway from Hell
Chapter Eight
"Where's your shadow?" the voice asked, sounding strangely familiar now. Joe glanced out the side of his glasses and saw the brown-headed, muscular guy they had passed earlier.
"Biff?" Joe gasped in surprise.
"Yeah," Biff whispered, releasing Joe's neck but steering him toward his apartment by the arm. "My name's Blane," he said loudly. "My buddies and I just moved in," he continued. "Come on inside and meet them."
Joe didn't see anyone listening or watching but played along anyway. "I'm new here too," he said. "My name is Joe."
They went inside the apartment and Biff closed the door, locking it behind him. Frank jumped up from the chair he had been sitting on and ran over to give Joe a big hug which Joe returned.
"I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life," Joe said.
Chet came in from the kitchen, munching a granola bar. "Chet?" Joe guessed, lifting an eyebrow in question.
Chet grinned and nodded, then came over and gave Joe a hug too. "We've been worried about you buddy," he said, releasing him and stepping back.
Joe heaved a weary sigh as he walked over and sank down on the couch. "I've been worried about me too," he admitted. Frank, Biff, and Chet sat down and Joe told them what had been going on since he had awoken in Trey's apartment.
Frank filled Joe in about the ashes. "Dad knows who Ken's friend is, but he's not going to bust him until you're out of this," he ended.
"Well, pal," Chet said. "This is your show. What do you want us to do?"
Joe winced and took off his glasses. "You're not going to like it," he said, frowning. "For starters, I need you to start buying from me. I have to start earning my keep tomorrow and I just can't sell to anyone who may actually use the stuff."
"Dad gave us plenty of cash," Frank informed Joe. "He knew you couldn't sell it to anyone."
"Your dad suggested we start out as your regulars and he would have some guys you would recognize buy from you later," Biff told Joe.
"That's good," Joe said. "But what I really need is a major buyer. Someone who would want enough, not just to use, but to resell. Someone who would keep trying to bargain for a lower price."
"Dad can do that," Frank said.
Joe shook his head. "Some of these guys still don't trust me," Joe argued. "Whoever this person is has to take up residence, maybe not on this street, but one nearby. Someone would notice if Dad cut out for a bit," Joe continued. "Especially when he's supposed to be in mourning." He paused and looked at Frank questioningly. "How is your absence being explained?" he asked.
Frank grinned a bit sheepishly. "I had a nervous breakdown and am confined to bed." Joe grinned. "Oh," Frank said, suddenly remembering something. He got up and went into the bedroom. He returned a minute later with a small bottle.
"This will get your eyes pinned," Frank said, coming over to where Joe sat.
"You mean dilated," Joe corrected him.
"No, I mean pinned," Frank restated. "You're eyes areonly dilated when you're on withdrawal. Full addicts have pinned eyes. Look up," he ordered Joe. Joe looked up and let Frank put a drop into each eye. "We'd better keep this stuff here," he said, closing the bottle. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" he asked in concern. "It's not too late to get out and go home."
"I have considered it," Joe admitted truthfully. "But I'm going to stick it out." They talked for a while longer, giving Joe some time to really relax and then all too soon, Joe stood up and said he had better get back. "Just one thing," he said, looking over at Chet. "Who are you?"
Chet grinned. "The name is Bond," he said with a horrible British accent. Joe gave him a look which made him break out laughing. "Kevin Bond," Chet finally finished. Joe shook his head, amused, and put on his glasses. Then he left the apartment and went to upstairs to Trey's.
"Where have you been?" Trey demanded, his eyes suspicious.
"Meeting some of the people in the building," Joe replied honestly.
"Who?" Trey asked, not completely convinced.
"Blane and Kevin," Joe answered. "And I already knew Tony. They moved in today."
"How do you know this Tony guy?" Trey demanded.
"He was in rehab," Joe replied with a shrug. "His dad kicked him out when he caught him chasing the Tiger yesterday."
Trey nodded. "Dinner will be here soon," he said, picking up the television remote. 'I ordered pizza."
"Sounds good," Joe replied, sitting down in the floor in front of Trey and watching the sitcom Trey had turned on.
The next morning, two more fixes of heroin down the toilet, Joe walked intot he living room, wearing the clothes Trey had left on the dresser sometime earlier. he already had his sunglasses on, the light bothering his eyes more now than it had previously, much to his surprise, and he was looking forward to seeing Frank and his friends again.
Trey handed Joe a plate of pancakes. He had heard Joe moving around earlier and had fixed him the pancakes after he had devoured his own. Joe picked at his breakfast, too nervous about the day ahead to take more than a copuple of bites. Trey finally took the plate away, assumming Joe's lack of appetite was due to his addiction. He then picked up a belt pack and handed it to Joe.
"Here's the deal," Trey told Joe. "You've got twelve dime bags of heroin in there. Go out, meet people, feel them out. See if they might be interested in buying from you. If they're new and haven't tried the stuff but you think they've got the potential for it, give them one for free. Let them feel how great it is," Trey continued. "But remember, you've got to be choosey. I'm sure you know how easy it would be to get busted."
Joe nodded as he stood up. He strapped the pack to his waist. "Ten dollars per bag," Trey told him. "You can give away up to two," he added. "But when you return, you must have at least a hundred dollars or the equivalent in heroin."
"Got it," Joe agreed, walking toward the door. He opened the door then turned to look at Trey. "Thanks," Joe told him. "For yesterday and the night before."
"No thanks necessary, Kiddo," Trey said, smiling. "You're one of us now and we take care of our own."
Joe left the apartment building and went outside. The sky was overcast and a slight drizzle kept Joe company as he walked down the street, stopping every now and then to chat with some of the people he met.
Frank had figured Joe would hit the street before stopping in to sell his wares. He had the feeling Joe would be watched to see if he actually made any sells, so he had Chet go into the diner to wait. He knew Chet could eat until Joe arrived, causing no questions among the help.
Biff had volunteered to go down to the end of the street were Gragg met Harvest street. He would make a buy there. Frank would wait until Joe was on his way back and purchase whatever he had left.
When Joe stopped to talk to a girl who appeared about seventeen, he causght sight of Danny following him. Joe talked with the girl for several minutes then headed down the street. He saw biff lurking by the alley and gave a sigh of relief. He shuffled over to where Biff was leaning against the wall and started talking to him.
"I'm glad you're here," Joe said softly. "I picked up a shadow."
"Frank thought you might," Biff told him. "Chet' waiting for you in the diner." They talked for a bit more then, looking around and seeing only Danny trying to hide in the shadows of a doorway, the two slipped intot he alley. There, Joe kept his back to Gragg street as he quickly passed three bags to Biff. Biff gave Joe thirty dollars.
Business concluded, they came tot he edge of the alley, talked a few more minutes, then Joe crossed over to the other side of the street, strolling by Danny who kept his eyes glued on Joe's every movement.
When Joe went inside the arcade, Danny followed. Joe waited just inside the door and as Danny passed, he stepped behind him and tapped Danny on the shoulder. Danny spun around and Joe got right in his face. "You nearly lost me a sale back there," he snarled. "Stop following me. People will think you're a narc."
Danny grabbed Joe by the neck. "Don't you ever call me a spy," he spat into Joe's face, his eyes glazed with hatred. "I don't know how you managed to fool everyone else but I've got your number Hardy," he continued. "You're going to screw up and when you do, you die!"
"Back off," Joe growled. "You're nothing but a low-life wannabe." Joe smirked at him. "You're just upset because it's me under Trey's protection instead of you. What are you afraid of?"
Danny's eyes hardened as he released Joe. Joe turned and left the building. Danny stared after him, his hand in his pocket, fingering his switchblade thoughtfully.
Chapter Eight
"Where's your shadow?" the voice asked, sounding strangely familiar now. Joe glanced out the side of his glasses and saw the brown-headed, muscular guy they had passed earlier.
"Biff?" Joe gasped in surprise.
"Yeah," Biff whispered, releasing Joe's neck but steering him toward his apartment by the arm. "My name's Blane," he said loudly. "My buddies and I just moved in," he continued. "Come on inside and meet them."
Joe didn't see anyone listening or watching but played along anyway. "I'm new here too," he said. "My name is Joe."
They went inside the apartment and Biff closed the door, locking it behind him. Frank jumped up from the chair he had been sitting on and ran over to give Joe a big hug which Joe returned.
"I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life," Joe said.
Chet came in from the kitchen, munching a granola bar. "Chet?" Joe guessed, lifting an eyebrow in question.
Chet grinned and nodded, then came over and gave Joe a hug too. "We've been worried about you buddy," he said, releasing him and stepping back.
Joe heaved a weary sigh as he walked over and sank down on the couch. "I've been worried about me too," he admitted. Frank, Biff, and Chet sat down and Joe told them what had been going on since he had awoken in Trey's apartment.
Frank filled Joe in about the ashes. "Dad knows who Ken's friend is, but he's not going to bust him until you're out of this," he ended.
"Well, pal," Chet said. "This is your show. What do you want us to do?"
Joe winced and took off his glasses. "You're not going to like it," he said, frowning. "For starters, I need you to start buying from me. I have to start earning my keep tomorrow and I just can't sell to anyone who may actually use the stuff."
"Dad gave us plenty of cash," Frank informed Joe. "He knew you couldn't sell it to anyone."
"Your dad suggested we start out as your regulars and he would have some guys you would recognize buy from you later," Biff told Joe.
"That's good," Joe said. "But what I really need is a major buyer. Someone who would want enough, not just to use, but to resell. Someone who would keep trying to bargain for a lower price."
"Dad can do that," Frank said.
Joe shook his head. "Some of these guys still don't trust me," Joe argued. "Whoever this person is has to take up residence, maybe not on this street, but one nearby. Someone would notice if Dad cut out for a bit," Joe continued. "Especially when he's supposed to be in mourning." He paused and looked at Frank questioningly. "How is your absence being explained?" he asked.
Frank grinned a bit sheepishly. "I had a nervous breakdown and am confined to bed." Joe grinned. "Oh," Frank said, suddenly remembering something. He got up and went into the bedroom. He returned a minute later with a small bottle.
"This will get your eyes pinned," Frank said, coming over to where Joe sat.
"You mean dilated," Joe corrected him.
"No, I mean pinned," Frank restated. "You're eyes areonly dilated when you're on withdrawal. Full addicts have pinned eyes. Look up," he ordered Joe. Joe looked up and let Frank put a drop into each eye. "We'd better keep this stuff here," he said, closing the bottle. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" he asked in concern. "It's not too late to get out and go home."
"I have considered it," Joe admitted truthfully. "But I'm going to stick it out." They talked for a while longer, giving Joe some time to really relax and then all too soon, Joe stood up and said he had better get back. "Just one thing," he said, looking over at Chet. "Who are you?"
Chet grinned. "The name is Bond," he said with a horrible British accent. Joe gave him a look which made him break out laughing. "Kevin Bond," Chet finally finished. Joe shook his head, amused, and put on his glasses. Then he left the apartment and went to upstairs to Trey's.
"Where have you been?" Trey demanded, his eyes suspicious.
"Meeting some of the people in the building," Joe replied honestly.
"Who?" Trey asked, not completely convinced.
"Blane and Kevin," Joe answered. "And I already knew Tony. They moved in today."
"How do you know this Tony guy?" Trey demanded.
"He was in rehab," Joe replied with a shrug. "His dad kicked him out when he caught him chasing the Tiger yesterday."
Trey nodded. "Dinner will be here soon," he said, picking up the television remote. 'I ordered pizza."
"Sounds good," Joe replied, sitting down in the floor in front of Trey and watching the sitcom Trey had turned on.
The next morning, two more fixes of heroin down the toilet, Joe walked intot he living room, wearing the clothes Trey had left on the dresser sometime earlier. he already had his sunglasses on, the light bothering his eyes more now than it had previously, much to his surprise, and he was looking forward to seeing Frank and his friends again.
Trey handed Joe a plate of pancakes. He had heard Joe moving around earlier and had fixed him the pancakes after he had devoured his own. Joe picked at his breakfast, too nervous about the day ahead to take more than a copuple of bites. Trey finally took the plate away, assumming Joe's lack of appetite was due to his addiction. He then picked up a belt pack and handed it to Joe.
"Here's the deal," Trey told Joe. "You've got twelve dime bags of heroin in there. Go out, meet people, feel them out. See if they might be interested in buying from you. If they're new and haven't tried the stuff but you think they've got the potential for it, give them one for free. Let them feel how great it is," Trey continued. "But remember, you've got to be choosey. I'm sure you know how easy it would be to get busted."
Joe nodded as he stood up. He strapped the pack to his waist. "Ten dollars per bag," Trey told him. "You can give away up to two," he added. "But when you return, you must have at least a hundred dollars or the equivalent in heroin."
"Got it," Joe agreed, walking toward the door. He opened the door then turned to look at Trey. "Thanks," Joe told him. "For yesterday and the night before."
"No thanks necessary, Kiddo," Trey said, smiling. "You're one of us now and we take care of our own."
Joe left the apartment building and went outside. The sky was overcast and a slight drizzle kept Joe company as he walked down the street, stopping every now and then to chat with some of the people he met.
Frank had figured Joe would hit the street before stopping in to sell his wares. He had the feeling Joe would be watched to see if he actually made any sells, so he had Chet go into the diner to wait. He knew Chet could eat until Joe arrived, causing no questions among the help.
Biff had volunteered to go down to the end of the street were Gragg met Harvest street. He would make a buy there. Frank would wait until Joe was on his way back and purchase whatever he had left.
When Joe stopped to talk to a girl who appeared about seventeen, he causght sight of Danny following him. Joe talked with the girl for several minutes then headed down the street. He saw biff lurking by the alley and gave a sigh of relief. He shuffled over to where Biff was leaning against the wall and started talking to him.
"I'm glad you're here," Joe said softly. "I picked up a shadow."
"Frank thought you might," Biff told him. "Chet' waiting for you in the diner." They talked for a bit more then, looking around and seeing only Danny trying to hide in the shadows of a doorway, the two slipped intot he alley. There, Joe kept his back to Gragg street as he quickly passed three bags to Biff. Biff gave Joe thirty dollars.
Business concluded, they came tot he edge of the alley, talked a few more minutes, then Joe crossed over to the other side of the street, strolling by Danny who kept his eyes glued on Joe's every movement.
When Joe went inside the arcade, Danny followed. Joe waited just inside the door and as Danny passed, he stepped behind him and tapped Danny on the shoulder. Danny spun around and Joe got right in his face. "You nearly lost me a sale back there," he snarled. "Stop following me. People will think you're a narc."
Danny grabbed Joe by the neck. "Don't you ever call me a spy," he spat into Joe's face, his eyes glazed with hatred. "I don't know how you managed to fool everyone else but I've got your number Hardy," he continued. "You're going to screw up and when you do, you die!"
"Back off," Joe growled. "You're nothing but a low-life wannabe." Joe smirked at him. "You're just upset because it's me under Trey's protection instead of you. What are you afraid of?"
Danny's eyes hardened as he released Joe. Joe turned and left the building. Danny stared after him, his hand in his pocket, fingering his switchblade thoughtfully.