Hard News (Rune 3)

They'd get him on his knees then the other two would hold him and Ascipio would beat him to death and then they'd find the body in the laundry room, where the official word would be he'd died by falling down the stairs.

Boggs shook his head.

Ascipio said, "Three of us, man. More, I want. That"--he nodded at the knife--"that do you shit."

"Man," one of the others growled at the insubordination.

Boggs didn't move. The blade blasted light off its point.

Ascipio walked close. Slowly. And he looked into Boggs's eyes. He stopped. He stood for a long moment as they stared at each other. Finally the Latino smiled and shook his head. "Okay, man. You know, you got balls. I like that."

Boggs didn't move.

"You okay, my friend," Ascipio said, admiration in his voice. "Nobody else ever try that shit with me. You fuckin' all right."

He extended his hand.

Boggs looked down at it.

A bird swooping in.

Boggs half turned as the fist of a fourth man, who'd come up behind him silently, caught him under the ear. A loud thwock as knuckles bounced off bone and he felt Ascipio's hand grabbing his right wrist.

The knife fell to the ground and Boggs saw it tumble, appearing and disappearing as it fell.

"No!" The word didn't come out as a shout, though. It was muffled by the meaty forearm of the man who'd hit him.

There were no guards, there were no Aryan Brotherhood protectors, no Severn Washington, there was no one in Lovers' Lane except the five men.

Five men and a glass knife.

Ascipio leaned forward. Boggs smelled garlic on his breath--garlic from his private stocks of food. Tobacco from the endless supply of cigarettes.

"Yo, man, you a stupid motherfucker."

No, Boggs thought in despair. Don't cut me! Not the knife. Not that, please....

As the blade went in, Boggs felt much less pain than he'd expected, but the sense of horror was far worse than he'd thought.

The knife retreated and returned into his body and he felt a terrifying loosening inside him.

Then there were other shouts, from a dozen yards away or a hundred. But Boggs didn't pay any attention; they didn't mean anything to him. All he was aware of was Ascipio's face: the grinny-mean eyes that never flinched or narrowed and the smile, one that might please children.

chapter 14

SHE HEARD THE NEWS ON ANOTHER STATION. NOT EVEN a network O&O but one of the locals. The one that broadcast M*A*S*H reruns and whose best-seller was a talk show that did stories about sexual surrogates and discrimination against overweight women.

Rune's own Network News hadn't even thought Randy Boggs's stabbing was worth mentioning.

Rune sweet-talked Healy into taking Courtney for a few hours. She figured this was a major abuse of the relationship, but he was so happy she'd gotten the girl back (she was a little vague about how exactly) that he didn't complain at all.

A half hour later she was on the train to Harrison, wondering if maybe she should buy a monthly commutation pass.

The prison infirmary surprised her. She expected it to be totally grim. More Big House, more Edward G. Robinson. But it was just a clean, well-lit hospital ward. A guard accompanied her, a large black man with a broad chest. His uniform didn't fit well. The glossy blue collar buttons, one stamped with a D, one a C, for Department of Corrections, came just to the level o

f her eyes. He was silent.

Randy Boggs didn't look good at all. He was shell-white and the spray or cream that he used on his hair glued it out in all directions. The eyes were what bothered Rune most though. They were unfocused and still. God, they were eerie. Corpse eyes.