The Immortal Harvest (19 page)

What the heck, it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do
, he thought to himself as he gulped down his third cold coffee and glanced at his watch.

Albert Dacquiri rubbed at the greenish mark on his wrist and scowled.

He was furious that the
Rolex
he had bought from one of his business associates had turned out to be a fake.

After all, he had paid a hundred bucks for it. He hated to be cheated and made a mental note to castrate the prick the next time he saw him.

He also hated to be kept waiting. He had told the snooty bitch to meet him at ten thirty. She was the one who had given him the deadline.

He had exceeded even his own expectations by closing the deal on the apartments in record time.

He of course realised that the particular party who had owned the real estate were ecstatic to be given the opportunity to offload the derelict ramshackle edifices. They were indifferent to the plight of the low income tenants. It was after all the harsh reality of modern economics.

He smiled at that thought as he had managed to get a good deal and had also managed to pocket quite a handsome sum for himself. Plus he had sold some Intel to the Business Review Weekly.

He smiled as he revelled in his good fortune.

Now where the fuck is the bitch?

He enjoyed a good scratch of his balls, and took another look at his watch.

After another ten minutes he decided that he need not stress. He sat back and clasped his hands behind his head and quietly daydreamed about the nice little tropical island and the young girls
and little boys
he was going to have fun with in the near future.

He opened his eyes when he sensed that someone had sat opposite him.

“Ahh Ms Smythe, how are you? I trust you have the rest of the money for me?” he asked. A lascivious smile wrinkled the corners of his mouth.

He was never one to beat around the bush.

He burped loudly and scratched at an itch at the corner of his left nostril. He resisted the urge to fully insert his finger. Although he relished the way such an act would make the bitch squirm.

He enjoyed making the high and mighty feel uncomfortable. It was his little way of protesting against nature. He knew that he had lost the genetic lottery in life. He knew that he would never be one of the beautiful people.

I don’t give a fuck as long as I’m filthy rich
, he thought as he rolled his tongue and moved the toothpick to the other side of his mouth.

He watched the snooty bitch with amusement as she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. He knew that she didn’t like him, he didn’t care. He had the cookie.

“Would you please keep your voice down Mr Dacquiri? This is a public place and I prefer to keep business dealings private if you don’t mind.”

“Sure sweetheart, whatever floats ya boat, now where the fuck is my money?” he asked menacingly and leant forward in his seat.

He had just consumed a garlic and onion sandwich and knew that his breath would be particularly potent. He had even foregone the shower this morning. He enjoyed the resultant look of disdain that ran across the bitch’s face.

“I have the money. Just give me the deeds. I want to have a look at them.

If there is the slightest departure from what we had agreed upon, I won’t pay you anything.”

He could see from her expression that she was in no mood for games. He let out a deep breath and reached under the table for his brief case. He placed the battered leather brief case on the table top and opened it up.

He withdrew a wad of documents which he had crammed under a mouldy sandwich and a rather over ripe banana and placed them on the table in front of Smythe.

He tapped his chubby index finger on top of the pile of papers, and then flicked an unknown speck of something from the first page. He then rotated the pile so that the bitch could read them.

“I think you’ll find that this is exactly what you wanted. I even did it quicker than you said.

“Oh yes, by the way I think this is yours,” he said as he opened his hand and dropped a broken tracking device on top of the pages and sneered at the woman.

He saw the slight glint of a smile threaten to crack her perfect makeup.

“You surprise me Mr Dacquiri; I assumed that you would be too stupid to find our little insurance policy.

Now if you’ll excuse me I will just take a quick look at these documents.”

Dacquiri fumed at the woman’s comment but decided that he would keep his comments to himself. He was only interested in getting the money he was promised and then he would get the fuck out of there.

He couldn’t give a rat’s arse about this smug little bitch and her godforsaken organisation. He waited patiently for her to finish poring through the documents.

“Well, is that all? Now do I get what’s owed to me? I want the other half of the money.” he said through gritted teeth.

The woman ignored him, continuing to scan, and reading quickly as she ran her index finger down each page.

When she had finally finished the last page she turned it over and stacked the pages together, aligning them perfectly. She then picked them up and put them in her glossy black leather Jimmy Choo handbag.

She quickly cleared her throat and looked enquiringly Dacquiri.

“Well Mr Dacquiri, everything appears to be in order and, in answer to your question, if you will follow me outside I will make sure that you get what is owed to you.”

“Well ok then. I want it in cash, none of your dodgy cheques you understand?” Dacquiri said as he followed Smythe out of the cafe and out into the street.

“Yes of course Mr Dacquiri, the briefcase with the money is in my car – just follow me.”

By the time they had left the restaurant she had quite a lead on him. He noticed that the little woman could walk rather briskly and he wheezed a bit trying to keep up with her.

This bitch is deliberately trying to give me a heart attack
, he thought as he quickened his pace.

He could see that she had ducked off down a side street and suddenly he could feel the hackles rise on the back of his neck.

He had grown up on the streets and knew a trap when he saw one. He yelled after her to make her come back.

“Hey, hang on a minute. I don’t appreciate these games Ms Smythe”, he managed to yell between heavy breaths. There was no response.

You bitch;
he thought as he lumbered towards the corner and shouted again.

“You owe me Ms Smythe! Give it to me!”

Focussing on Smythe, he was unaware of the presence behind him until he felt the sharp pain in the back of his neck.

“Ow! What the hell…” he yelled as he slapped his hand over the spot of pain.

The effects of the drug were rapid as he felt himself falling heavily to the ground but was somehow prevented from hitting the ground by a pair of arms.

He looked up through blurred vision and saw a black clad figure holding him. He then felt his feet being lifted off the ground by another person.

“Hey! What the…” was all he could manage to utter before the drugs took effect.

As he lapsed in and out of consciousness he could feel that he was being carried somewhere.

It was then that he heard the distinctive snooty voice of Smythe.

“Take this piece of garbage to the doc and tell him to give Mr.
Dacquiri
what he deserves.”

It wasn’t so much the grunting and groaning that Crystal despised, it was the length of time that it took some of her Johns to get the job done.

There was only so much fake moaning and insincere flattery she could manage.

With each new client, as she lay under the slobs, she would be thinking about shopping or fantasising about a nice holiday somewhere.

However, lately she could not stop thinking about Sylvan and Justen. It was nice to have the company. It was almost like having a family.

She moved her head to the side as she prevented the slob from sticking his tongue in her mouth.

“What the fuck! I said no kissing ok buster? Just get it done already will ya?”

With that resolved, she went back to thinking about Sylvan and Justen.

She wondered whether she should take Sylvan back to hospital. She was beginning to worry that Sylvan might be getting sicker.

She frowned. She wasn’t a nurse.

What the hell was I thinking?

As for the kid, she had no idea where he had disappeared to and she was in two minds whether or not to go to the police.

The slob started thrusting faster and his breathing became heavier.

“Ohh baby, yeah that’s it fuck me harder, oh yeah, do it baby, that’s it ohh, ohh,” she added that extra moan just for dramatic effect.

Maybe I should look at doing pornos
, she thought and then decided against it.

Those bastards always insist on cleanliness and usually come down hard on any drug taking;
she thought and then groaned a little more.

She reached down with her hand and lightly squeezed her john’s nuts.

That usually does the trick
; she thought and then started thrusting upwards to meet the man’s thrusts.

“Ohhh baby, come on, come with me baby, oooohhhh,” she moaned in her best porno voice.

Shit I hope that cheap rubber don’t break in me
, she thought as she heard the distinctive groan of the John climaxing.

His body went suddenly rigid and then limp as the sexual tension released.

Crystal let out a small breath of relief and then started shoving the lump off her.

“Ok that’s it buddy time’s up.

Come on get off me ya great lump.”

“Ok ok jeez can’t a guy enjoy a bit of afterglow?”

“Listen, er whatever ya name is…”

“It’s John”

“Really? No shit! How about that?

“Anyways, listen John, I aint got no time for any afterglow. I’m a busy girl ya know, now be a good boy and go ’ome to ya wife, she’s probbly worried ’bout ya,” Crystal said as she hurriedly got dressed and shoved the wad of notes down into her bra.

“Yeah, alright but just so’s ya know, you’re a much better fuck than me missus. She just gives me a pity fuck every other month,” John said as he tucked his penis back into his Garfield boxer shorts.

“Yeah, yeah whatever, but I don’t have to put up with ya whining now do I.

“Now off ya go, just text me the next time you’re gettin’ twitchy ok?” Crystal said as she finished straightening her clothes, strode across the sleazy room and then blew John a kiss as she pulled the door closed behind her.

She left John huffing and puffing as he struggled to do up his Nikes over his bulbous stomach.

Shit! I hate it when they get all forlorn on me
, she thought as she hurried out of the sleazy hotel.

She stopped to say her goodbyes to Joe the hotel manager who just grunted and raised his head from his crossword puzzle just long enough to acknowledge Crystal.

Once out on the street Crystal had a slight attack of guilt when she realised that she had left Sylvan all alone for at least a couple of hours.

She shivered slightly as the effects of her last hit were slowly starting to dissipate.

She had a quick look in her handbag and was relieved to see the little zip lock plastic bag with the familiar brown crystals and her spare stash of heroin hypodermics.

She felt for the smooth surface of the small glass pipe which she used to ingest the meth.

Satisfied that she had sufficient substance to see her through the night she hurried in the direction of her home.

She walked warily through the back streets, making sure that she stayed in the shadows. She had heard all of the stories of the disappearing homeless. She felt sad. She had known quite a few of the people who had disappeared.

Where did they all go?
She wondered, as she hunched her shoulders, and crossed her arms defensively across her breasts.

She hurried her pace slightly, fearful that someone might jump out of the shadows and make her disappear as well.

The sharp crack of a car backfiring made her jump. She felt a sense of relief when she saw the familiar facade of her building.

Once inside the derelict building, she stepped over Leroy as she entered the foyer and quietly made her way up the stairs. She had decided not to wake Leroy. He had looked very peaceful clutching his brown bagged bottle to his chest as he slept.

She briefly wondered what strange dreams the old man had.

Did he even have dreams?

She made her way up to her floor and peered out of the stairwell into the darkened corridor.

I wish the super would fix the lighting, it’s as dark as an arsehole in here
, she thought as she groped her way to the door of her apartment. She felt a little tremor of trepidation as she turned the door handle and made her way into her apartment.

“Hello, Sylvan, are ya ok sweetie?” She asked quietly as she progressed further into the room.

The fact there was no response caused little concern as she had expected Sylvan to be pretty much unconscious, but decided that she had better check her out and make sure that her condition had not worsened since she left.

The lighting in the room was quite dim and she cursed herself for not taking the time to turn on the light.

She could just barely make out the form of a body in the bed and she quietly made her way closer and reached out her hand to tenderly stroke her friend’s hair.

“Sylvan honey, are you ok? I just had to duck out, I…”

Suddenly a hand shot out from below the covers and grasped Crystal’s hand in a crushing grip.

Instinctively she tried to pull back her hand but it was caught in a vice like grip.

“What the fuck?” She shrieked as she struggled to free herself.

She almost pissed herself when she saw the ugly disfigured face of her captor as he sat up in the bed and twisted her scrawny arm and caused her to bend down, her face level with his.

She smelt his foul breath as he glared at her. In the dim lighting the expression was demonic.

From this vantage point she could clearly see the horrific scar that seared across the captors ugly features.