Somehow Natty always managed to find blue neon signs in every town city or
general hole that they landed in, as though the florescence reacted with
something in her blood, something seedy and ravenous in some kind of sordid
chemical reaction. At that moment, she thought it was just the $6 vodka in
her system leading her to a new source of inebriation; like calls to like,
she was sure that somebody had told her that but couldn't remember who.
Whatever it was that had called to her, Natty had managed to find what was
possibly the only club in Missing Mile North Carolina and, although it was
not yet opening time, The Sacred Yew had Burning Honey written all over it.
Daniel nudged Ben towards the door, it was his turn again and this time Ben
was drunk enough to truly believe that it was. They all giggled and then
fell silent as Ben's knock was followed by tumbling noises within, the
sound of cursing and the creaking of the door handle.
Kinsey Hummingbird just wanted a quiet life. His days were constant, predictable, reliable; that's how he liked it. He'd always wanted to own a club for the young people in Missing Mile and now, he had done so for years; every goth kid from as far as Rayleigh knew Kinsey, the man at the Yew with the feather in his hair. Yet owning the only club in Missing Mile was the one thing that caused disruption in Kinsey's plans for calm and quiet; every trouble that blew through this town ended up buying a couple of beers at his bar first. Something told him that the knock on his back door so early in the afternoon was going to be just another example of this. Banging down he box beers that he was carrying, cursing as he knocked his angular knee against the bar, he trudged to open the door, hoping against hope that it was just the postmen with a nice package for him. The five kids staring up at him as he pulled the door and stood on the step were not what he was expecting. Kinsey had long grown used to expecting vampires and malevolent forces to darken the boards of his bar but these kids seemed to hold no malice in their out-of-town faces. 'Look, kids, we're not open yet, the gig's not until tonight!' The girl looked up at this, the negro girl with the black eyes. Her expressionless features troubled him, and Kinsey felt that he wouldn't be able to stand being under her gaze for long,. 'Gig?' Somehow the British accent was not at all a surprise to Kinsey and this only served to trouble him more. 'Yeah, if you're here about the Lost Souls? Gig, then you're about six hours too early.' They all stared at each other for a while, except for the brown girl who just stood and stared at Kinsey, a sudden smile appearing almost violently on her face. These weren't the usual goth kids that he was used to seeing in his club, or the out-of-towners that liked to follow Lost Souls? Around as though they held all of life's answers. Somehow he got the idea that these kids were just an accident, no calculated evil force, just lost children. The girl stood forward, and her eyes softened and Kinsey could see that she could be no older than 19, just a baby. Yet she seemed to be the commander of this unlikey crew of thin white boys. 'We'd like to play here, if you need a support act.' Kinsey shifted and stared intently at the girl, more confident now that her eyes had loosened their intensity. It was true, he could do with a support act but he wasn't sure. It was easy to please the local bands, all they ever asked for was beer and rehearsal space, The Yew wasn't really a huge money making machine. 'You don't need to pay us much, just gas money and booze, nothing more.' He had to laugh at her boldness, somehow kid seemed a bad word for this one. 'Are you old enough to drink booze? I don't wanna lose my licence!' She smiled again, a side smile, not really at Kinsey but he understood. 'I'm old enough in England' is all she said before Kinsey led them into the bar.
Kinsey Hummingbird just wanted a quiet life. His days were constant, predictable, reliable; that's how he liked it. He'd always wanted to own a club for the young people in Missing Mile and now, he had done so for years; every goth kid from as far as Rayleigh knew Kinsey, the man at the Yew with the feather in his hair. Yet owning the only club in Missing Mile was the one thing that caused disruption in Kinsey's plans for calm and quiet; every trouble that blew through this town ended up buying a couple of beers at his bar first. Something told him that the knock on his back door so early in the afternoon was going to be just another example of this. Banging down he box beers that he was carrying, cursing as he knocked his angular knee against the bar, he trudged to open the door, hoping against hope that it was just the postmen with a nice package for him. The five kids staring up at him as he pulled the door and stood on the step were not what he was expecting. Kinsey had long grown used to expecting vampires and malevolent forces to darken the boards of his bar but these kids seemed to hold no malice in their out-of-town faces. 'Look, kids, we're not open yet, the gig's not until tonight!' The girl looked up at this, the negro girl with the black eyes. Her expressionless features troubled him, and Kinsey felt that he wouldn't be able to stand being under her gaze for long,. 'Gig?' Somehow the British accent was not at all a surprise to Kinsey and this only served to trouble him more. 'Yeah, if you're here about the Lost Souls? Gig, then you're about six hours too early.' They all stared at each other for a while, except for the brown girl who just stood and stared at Kinsey, a sudden smile appearing almost violently on her face. These weren't the usual goth kids that he was used to seeing in his club, or the out-of-towners that liked to follow Lost Souls? Around as though they held all of life's answers. Somehow he got the idea that these kids were just an accident, no calculated evil force, just lost children. The girl stood forward, and her eyes softened and Kinsey could see that she could be no older than 19, just a baby. Yet she seemed to be the commander of this unlikey crew of thin white boys. 'We'd like to play here, if you need a support act.' Kinsey shifted and stared intently at the girl, more confident now that her eyes had loosened their intensity. It was true, he could do with a support act but he wasn't sure. It was easy to please the local bands, all they ever asked for was beer and rehearsal space, The Yew wasn't really a huge money making machine. 'You don't need to pay us much, just gas money and booze, nothing more.' He had to laugh at her boldness, somehow kid seemed a bad word for this one. 'Are you old enough to drink booze? I don't wanna lose my licence!' She smiled again, a side smile, not really at Kinsey but he understood. 'I'm old enough in England' is all she said before Kinsey led them into the bar.