The Laughing Men
an excerpt

“Cobalt Blud, him permabad. Can’t touch he with even fastest eye.”
The nearly feral youths sat on the crumbling floor of the Cermack rail station. Eds, the older of the two relished his words as he sorted through a scattered pile of jug tops. He held each to the light, carefully appraising them for the unpopular color of dye that could be melted off to make the back alley inhalant, Ankh.
“If’s for true then, why him not come save blue boys?”
The contradictory twelve year old was a good forty pounds lighter than his brother, but his resolve did not notice this discrepancy.
“Him wait for the time to hit. When hood are so stress all him do is take one shot to start next Great Blast. Know this true, stupid rail suck.”
Iad leapt upon his brother, small fists pummeling Eds’ ribs.
“Not rail suck! You rail suck!”
The train above passed, obscuring the boys’ cries. The station attendant, who had long since given up on life, watched his MV through a haze of Xanlam. Eds had dominated Iad and now turned his attention to the rush hour travelers - the few wage slaves who still commuted from the South Side to live like kings among squalor. Eds worked as best he could to appeal to the suits’ sense of sympathy, asking for money to call his mama. Coming up empty, as usual Eds berated the retreating commuters as they disappeared into the streets.
Then, out of the haze of twilight shuffled a nightmare figure of a man. A ragged, brown longcoat dragged across the ground and a stench followed in its wake. A measured, rasping inhalation underscored the dark man’s boot steps. The man trudged over Eds’ pile of jug caps and began to climb over the turnstiles.
Iad, catching sight of the vision first, cried out sharply before Eds had time to clap a hand over the boy’s mouth. The rag man stopped mid-climb, turned and descended. His face was obscured by the shadow of his hood and a thick mane of dreadlocks. He came towards the boys, filling the air with a palpable sense of dread.
“Seeds talk public `bout Cobalt Blud. Shouldn’t ought say `bout nothing don’t know `bout. Talk bring out hunters, drag mama name through mud boys.”
The creature squatted near the shaking youths. He slowly removed his hood and shook his dreadlocks back around his shoulders. In a puddle of his own urine, Iad swooned. Eds stumbled over the boy and bolted for the exit. His breath leapt from him as the dark man snagged the boy by the neck of his jacket. Eds jerked back, and fell with a thud to the permacrete. Sprawled on the floor, blood welled in the back of his skull.
The rag man was atop Eds now, legs pinning the boy’s arms painfully into the dilapidated permacrete floor.
“I didn’t,” Eds pleaded.
“Shhh,” the man said through his deep, blue lips, “Cobalt Blud come to claim him takes name in vain. Words spill out like blood.”