Batman Dead White

1 I'm not scared of him. The Bat? No way. Lots of guys this side of Gotham City, yeah, they're scared of the Bat. Not me. They're a bunch of J-cat bitches. The Bat, he's a maniac in a costume, is all. Or maybe he doesn't really exist. Maybe it's some government psychological-ops program. I read about those, in the Weekly World View. They're screwing with our heads, using some guy in a bat outfit. That's what it is. That's what I told Skeev when I dropped the meth off for White Eyes, last time. Wish I was still dropping boof off instead of the hardware. Crystal meth is easier to hide than guns. Damn guns are so bulky. Makes me nervous we'll get caught. With this armament, the feds could get involved. The feds, puppets of the Antichrist, could be following me right now. I sure as Hell feel like someone's been watching me . . . This old truck needs a tune-up. That's Skeev's new drop, over there, isn't it? Hard to tell from here, in the dark, with all the streetlights shot out on Simpson. Corner of Courtney and Simpson, he saidone of the sleaziest blocks in town. What'd he say, Rankin's Fish Depot, by the river? And there it is, rankin's fish. Sign's so old you can hardly read it. Fog's murking it up, too. Park the truck legal, Skeev said. Don't give nobody an excuse to search it. We don't own every cop in town. That Captain Gordon's got his team, too. Can't trust honest cops. There's that feeling again. Like somebody's watching me. Watching from . . . up high somewhere. Like you can feel it on the back of your head. But when I look, can't see them. Skeev might've put some dude on the rooftop with a rifle. Can't see anybody up there . . . Wait. Was that something? Like a shadow moving around. No. Jumpy. Seeing shit. Check the watch. 2:53 am. Skeev oughta be out here, watching for me, but I don't see him, the bastard. Probably got a speed run on. White Eyes told him not to do the boof anymore himself. He don't listen to White Eyes, going to find himself out in the country, spread- eagled under one of those harrow machines, like Harnie. I didn't mind Harnie's screaming so muchit was the whining before he started screaming, that's what gets on your nerves. So where are you, Skeev? "Trask!" "Jeez, Skeev you made me jump outta my shoes! Why you sneak up on me like that?" "What you so nervous about, Trask? You got a tail on you? A tail following you, right? That right?" Skeev talking a mile a minute, combine that with his southern accent, makes it hard to figure what he's saying sometimes. "I haven't . . . I haven't seen anybody, Skeev. Exactly." "What you mean, exactly? You don't say exactly like you mean exactly. Some people say exactly but they don't mean exactly they mean exactly. What the Hell you mean by" "Awright, awright" Christ, Skeev's buzzing on boof for sure. His little rat eyes darting around. Still overweight but he's half as fat as he was before. Well, I known him for a long time, I'm not gonna tell the Big White, but Skeev better hope he don't find out he's taking the product himself. Being fat, he's liable to have a heart attack on the shit. Stick to the steroids like the Big White does. "Chill, Skeev, I justjust had a feeling, that's all. Nerves. HeyShirley, John is the author of 'Batman Dead White', published 2006 under ISBN 9780345479440 and ISBN 0345479440.