The Ghost and the Darkness Volume 2 (The Fallocaust Series) by Quil Carter Page A

concrete medians that acted as fences. Abandoned structures stood in their dilapidated state behind these medians, most with collapsed roofs and sunken in faces. It looked like the occupied, repaired houses weren’t for another half block down the road.
    I walked past a couple of kids, two girls, swinging their feet as they perched on these barriers. Both of them giggling and whispering things to each other. I had twin sisters so I knew annoying girls well, they were always whispering and laughing at shit.
    “Hey... where is a good bar?” I asked one of them.
    They looked at me and laughed some more, before one of them jumped off and pointed ahead of us. “Dust Devil... it’s down there,” she said. She wasn’t scared of strangers at all, the kids here were either little morons or perhaps it was just that safe here. “And there’s Tazzy’s way, way back near the east entrance.”
    “Thanks.” I dug into my pocket and found one of the chocolate bars I had stashed in my jacket. I gave it to her and with a girlish squeal I made two best friends. They jumped up and down screaming in each others faces. With a shake of my head I continued on my way. My younger brother and the sisters were all older now. Though I had a couple nieces and nephews somewhere out there but we didn’t get a chance to visit that much anymore.
    I checked out some of the people walking up and down the streets, most dust-covered greywasters with a few uniformed officers in the mix. No legionaries to be seen though which put me at ease.
    Tintown wasn’t a block; it was a free town so some of them could be a little rough around the edges. I had never been to this town but I had been to Anvil visiting relatives and so far I was impressed. The structures here were mostly one or two storeys with the market district contained in a strip mall separated by a four-lane road with street lights still standing. I could even see separate buildings, not made from refurbished buildings but jerry-rigged together with walls from houses and slabs of concrete.
    One of them looked like an ammo store. I might visit that place just to stock up, though I liked it here you never know when you have to piss off and run.
    I walked into the bar, busy and noisy with a billow of smoke above everyone’s heads. The ceilings were stained with brown and the walls held the drippy run offs from the remains of the rainy season. There were pictures on the walls too, half-naked men and women showing off bikinis and tight-fitting underwear, and framed pictures of landscapes and old world people wearing ruffles and powdered wigs.
    I weaved through the bar tables, most holding drunk men and women smoking cigarettes over half full bottles of beer, and found a place in a corner to sit down. I chose one underneath a poster of a twink-looking boy with a sheepish grin, tugging on his grey underwear. Reminded me of Tinky.
    I think I missed a golden opportunity not calling him Twinkerbell. I wish I had thought of that.
    A guy my age realized I was there a few minutes later. Wearing a black apron and too much gel in his hair he gave me a smile. “What can I get you?”
    He looked kind of cute; I decided to turn on my charm. “One beer and a shot of whisky for starters. It’s been a long trip.” I winked at him, even though I technically just broken off an engagement I was really too miserable with my life right now to care. Flirting would make me feel better. “When are you getting off?”
    I watched his face, either he was going to behold me in absolute horror because I had the wrong thing between my legs, look at me like I was an ugly cockroach unworthy of his company... or he was going to smile.
    And he smiled and shook his head. “My family owns this bar; they don’t pay me so I can sit down when I want. As long as you don’t slip anything in my drink that is.”
    I pursed my lips and slammed my hand down on the table which made him laugh. He shook his head and disappeared into the