Read The Junkie Quatrain for Free Online Page B

Jay spat on the carpeted floor. He loved spitting and pissing in buildings he never would’ve been let in the lobby of three months ago. He tugged his cap down over his ears. Then he threw his weight behind his foot and planted it above the doorknob. There was a loud crack and a bang as the door slammed open and into a wall. They all winced at the sound.
    Noise could mean trouble. It attracted the junkies. Granted, it was rare for them to come inside. Even rarer for them to travel through a narrow stairwell up to a high floor. But Barney didn’t have the number one team in Los Angeles because he took chances. He gestured for Epi, Sarah, and Mel to hit the exits again and make sure everything was still clear. Mel and Sarah gave him a quick salute. Epi nodded, and the spikes of his mohawk wobbled.
    Six months ago a virus had popped up in China. It damaged the brain and turned people into babbling, twitchy berserkers who tried to eat everything—and everyone—they could. If they survived three or four weeks of madness without someone else killing them, the junkies still burned out and died from malnutrition, exhaustion, or fever cooking their brains. If you caught it, one way or another your number was up.
    It was spread by bodily fluids, which was bad because for the first week or so the virus just made people forget their inhibitions. People in China, India, Russia, and all the Stan countries did a lot of the same things as everyone else when they didn’t have any morals holding them back. So the disease spread fast. Most places managed to restrict travel to and from Asia. Not fast enough, though. Thirteen weeks ago it showed up in North America, and in less than a month it had turned the United States into tons of isolated communities and sanctuaries.
    Which was where the outsiders came in. People in sanctuaries still needed food, medical supplies, and sometimes they just needed to get themselves from point A to point B. They’d pay good money for it. Or they’d pay somehow. Every city had people who were skilled enough, crazy enough, or stupid enough to go outside and dodge the wandering packs of junkies.
    Barney’s team fit two of the three categories. They were good enough to get a regular, high-paying deal from the Feds. Barney reported to Bradbury every other week or so for a list of supplies the director needed scavenged from across the city. His team did little jobs in between. And they tried to stay ahead of the competition.
    Pretty good for an Iraq vet who’d ended up stocking shelves in a grocery store.
    Jay and Derek stood by the door of suite 551. Charlie crouched between them. They had out their pistols and the creaky AK-47 that looked tiny in Jay’s big paws. Charlie batted some dust from his sleeve and they all watched the gray cloud spread out into the room. Nothing disturbed it.
    ‘Looks clear, boss,’ said Derek.
    Barney walked forward and peered through the door. There was a small reception area right up front with a curving desk. A few plush chairs sat to either side. He stepped over the threshold and looked around. The others followed him in.
    There were two offices on either side of the reception area. The doors were blank, but the room on the left looked slightly more ornate and executive. Behind reception was a frosted glass wall with walkways on either side. Barney peered around it and saw a long meeting table. There were more plush chairs. ‘This doesn’t look right,’ he said.
    Two of the outsiders took the office to the left. Two more took the office to the right. Chit read a business card from the desk. ‘Interweave Incorporated.’
    Barney looked at Charlie. ‘You sure we got the right place?’
    ‘Yeah, I’m sure,’ said the round-faced man. ‘Room five-fifty-one.’
    Chit tossed the card at him and pulled another one from the tiny rack. ‘Says they’re efficiency consultants.’
    Charlie shrugged. ‘Could be a cover.’
    Monica stepped out of the left-hand office. ‘We