Charlie Huston - Every Last Drop

He slows his finger.

— Now, I don't know exactly how much is left on it, but it's close. See, you got exactly two uses to me. Once those are done, so's your time.

He holds up his other index finger.

— One, you crapped out on. I mean, why the fuck do you think you're here, man? That crazy bitch is your chick. If you cant talk some sense into her, then I don't know what. So that's Use Number One down the shitter.

He holds up another finger.

— Use Number Two is what I said before, about a field general. Which, from what attitude I'm getting here, is a job you re clearly not interested in. -Always quick on the uptake, that's you.

His finger stops swinging. -Ding!

He shakes his head. -Time s up.

I find a cigarette.

— Is that the sound it makes when your time is up? Ding? Talk about an anticlimax. -You should have just collected your chick and got out, man.

I put flame to cigarette. -Count.

I drop my voice to a whisper.

— You might want to stop talking shit before it gets you in too deep.

He puts his face in mine.

— You can't take me, man. Not anymore. III have your heart in my hand and be chewing on it before you stop breathing. -No doubt, no doubt. But let me tell you a secret.

I put my mouth next to his ear. -That girl up there, she still loves me.

I lean back and nod. -Yeah, hard to believe, huh?

I raise a hand.

— Now I'm not saying she's all weak-kneed about me, but she still has the feeling. I can tell.

His eyes flick at the lofts.

I take a drag and nod.

— That's right. You kill me, she's likely to stop just sitting up there keeping an eye on things. She might decide that this is the right time to come down here and settle some shit.

If he had eyebrows, they'd be pulled together.

— Doesn't matter. She's only got a handful behind her.

I tap my forehead. -You sure of that?

Our eyes meet up.

— What I'm asking is, You sure when push and shove go at It that you got your supporters all locked down? You sure some of them might not go over to the other side if things came to the big chop-sockey in here? Mean, when the limbs start flying, there's no telling which way some people might jump. And saying you carry it off, what do you lose? Daniel, he was top dog here for how long? Ever hear about internecine bloodshed on his watch? How long after that before serious doubts are raised about the quality of your leadership, O chosen one? Speaking of which?

I tap his chest with my fingertip.

— I ever tell you about how Daniel was always hinting that I might be the right guy to follow him?

I look over at the Enclave away in the shadows. -Some of these guys know. Maybe, here's an idea.

I point at the stairs to the lofts.

— Maybe I should stay. Might be cozy. Me and her up there, you down here.

I drop my smoke on the floor between us. -Or maybe you should back the fuck off.

I grind the cigarette under my boot.

— Before you embarrass yourself in front of your people, making threats you re not gonna move on just now.

I turn away and start for the door. -Don't lose the suit, Count, it's you.

He starts after me. -Uh-uh. Hang up, toughguy. You don't get last words in this place.

He raises an arm, circles it over his head.

— This is my house. And there are rules. And you need to be schooled in one of them.

He raises his voice, the sounds of sparring dying as his words echo. -Like, OK, you don't want to make the scene. You don't want to stay and add your name to mine. You don't want to lead the troops when they hit the streets. Basically, you just don't want to help me. OK, cool. I'd be lying if I said I was surprised. Like, I thought you'd take your girl with you, but I know she's

changed and so maybe she doesn't do it for you anymore. OK. But leaving here, that's not a casual thing. You're either Enclave, or you're not. You're either in here with us, or you're not. The open-door policy, that is closed. No in-and-out privileges anymore. No one gets their hand stamped with a big E and gets to come and go as they please.

I'm at the door.

He arm-bars me.

— Like you got banished once, down the sewer, and how you got out I do not know, but this time It's final. You go out, you don't come back.

He shakes his head.

— Not for her. Not for no reason. Gone. And how we settle our differences in here, the chick and me, that will happen without your help either way.

I scratch the back of my neck.

— The way I know that girl, anyone's gonna need help in here, it's gonna be you.

We stare.

And he blinks first.

Which is a relief to me and my handful of bluff.

The last of the clubbers are inside. Daylights trying to catch me out.

What the fuck now?

A rat rattles some trash cans and I sniff the humid air and smell the rat and kick the cans aside and pick it up by its scruff. -Hey, Joe, what's up? — Phil.

I let him go.

— Funny place to find you.

— Well, just a coincidence. I happened to be in the area to conduct some business.

I put an arm over his shoulder.

— Strange you should mention this business that you were conducting. It seems someone ratted me to the Count.

He shivers with outrage. -What? A rat? Who, Joe? Tell me who it is and III take care of it for ya.

I pat his arm. -It's a nice thought, but I wouldn't want you to go jumping in the river with

your neck tied to a sewer grate on my account.

He flinches.

— Urn, yeah, that, that's not my style. Urn, Joe? — Yeah, Phil?

He puts his palms together.

— There something I can do to get this over with quick? Like, can I just run in front of a cab and take my lumps and we call it even? As opposed to you cutting off my nose and all, I mean.

I give him a little shake. No old ladies purses fall out of his pants legs, which is a bit of a shock. -Cut you? Not gonna happen.

He wipes his forehead. -Honest? No cutting? — No cutting.

He smiles, pats me on the chest. -Ah, that's great, that's just great.

He grins, skips a couple times. -Well ain't that a beautiful thing.

He plucks a cigarette from the pack I offer him, winks.

— Ya mind me askin what ya been up to, Joe? Not that I'm being nosy, just that I'm always curious about what my friends are up to.

I light his cigarette for him. -I've been getting into trouble, Phil.

He laughs.

— So the usual, huh? — Yeah, the usual.

He swallows.

— Say, Joe, ya don't mind me sayin1, you're acting kind of weird. Like, not cutting me and all. Makes a man think that maybe you're waiting to lower the boom on him.

He bites the tip of his tongue. -You sure we're OK here?

I pat his shoulder. -Yeah, were OK. See, you got something I need, Philip.

He clutches his throat.

— Aw no, Joe, not that.

I shake my head, curl my arm around him again. -Easy, easy. All I'm talking about is your big fucking mouth.

His hand covers his mouth.

— Joe, no, I swear, I never sold you out, not once never. -You sold me out so many times, Phil, you should be paying me royalties.

He makes to talk again and my razor flips open. I hold it across his mouth. -Just hush a minute and listen.

I smoke. -I'm going away, Phil. I came back, and now I'm going away.

I tap the middle of his forehead.

— And I want you to make sure everyone knows it. See, I made a mistake coming back. There's nothing for me here. Nothing but trouble. And I don't swing the weight I used to. Cant take the heat. So I'm going away. Joe Pitt is out of play. Gone. Crossing the water and taking his chances. Anyone has a score to settle, they missed their shot. Color me gone, Phil.

I take him by the ear. — Cause the only thing that will bring me back is if I hear you didn't do as I