Nine
an excerpt

My cab is due at ten. I’m taking a redeye to New York. They can change the names of the cities all they want; it’ll always be “New York” and this will always be Erie, mostly because of the people who live here. A quarter of us made it and we decided to keep it. While the Conspirators celebrated that they’d pulled It off, restructured governments and divided wealth, we cleaned up after them. I don’t think about it anymore, if I can help it.

I finish the Stoli before dinner, eat a box of ham and cheese Hot Pockets and crack open a bottle of Glenfiddich. The only thing to do now is to wait for my cab. I flip channels. The old movie channel is running Ghost In the Shell. I flip over to CNN-Fox and watch the end of the six o’clock news hour instead.

My cell vibrates in my pocket. It’s Cassie.

“What’ve you been drinking?” she says in greeting.

“Lotsa stuff. Oh hey, I gave Sabatino your rent. He’s… he’s not so good.”

“No?”

“Slammed the door in my face.”

“Danny,” Cassie says, “his wife just died.”

I snort.

“He’s in mourning.”

“This wasn’t mourning.”

“Did you offer him your therapy appointment?”

“Forgot.”

I listen to her press a bottle to her lips while I watch the meaningless filler story on the news. It’s about carrying your Tag when you travel. I concentrate on Cassie and imagine her cold mouth against mine.