Two A.M. Again

We’re standing in the rough part of town and the streets are quiet.

Apparently, the streets are always quiet at two in the morning.

No one’s around aside from me and Jacks and the dead body on the pavement between us. The mass of brain tissue coming out the frontal exit wound looks a bit like oatmeal. He’s still got a burning cigarette held between his fingers. He hasn’t been dead for long. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting it.

“This guy’s old man is a former cop,” Jacks informs me. “Buddy of mine.” I can already hear what’s coming next, though the words haven’t even left his mind yet. I lean down and take the cigarette from between the dead guy’s fingers. I give it a once-over. Not my usual brand, but I left mine in the car. I ash it and take a drag.

“Go ahead and ask.”

“Levi, I need you to do me a favor.”

The cigarette smoke engulfs my head like a makeshift halo. I’m probably never going to see a real one, so I’ll take what I can get. The wheel keeps right on spinning around. I get the feeling my hands are gonna get dirty.

“What do you need me to do?”