All that went through my head in a flash, followed by: Pool cue. Coming at my head. With the help of some good ol’ zombie speed I shifted my beer to my left hand, ducked under the stick, then came right back up and drove my right fist into Carol Ann’s double chin, killing forever her chances of becoming a reformed murderess. Well, maybe not forever. I doubted this would be the last time she flew off the handle and tried to split a head open.
The cue went flying out of her hand, and several people managed to dance out of its way before it smacked into Bubba Buzz Cut Guy’s shin. He let out a yelp and a curse as Carol Ann went down in a totally unattractive sprawl.
“And stay down, bitch!” I said, mostly for effect, since everyone seemed to expect me to say something in that vein. I shook my hand out, even though apparently I’d finally managed to learn how to punch without breaking my hand. That was a nice change. Sensei would be so fucking proud. Well, maybe not with the whole bar fight thing without a shred of jiu jitsu. He’d sigh and get that pained look on his face. But, hey, I’d even kept hold of my beer. Now that took skills that weren’t taught in a dojo.
I backed away to make room for the people taking cell phone pictures of Carol Ann as she moaned on the floor. I almost felt sorry for her before remembering that she had pretty much been the total aggressor and would’ve probably killed me if not for some sweet brain-charged action on my part. So, yeah, a few humiliating pictures on the internet wouldn’t kill her, though I did keep half an eye on her to make sure no one in this crowd took the wrong kind of advantage of her. Fortunately—since I really didn’t want to babysit the bitch—a couple of her girlfriends rushed over and scooped her up, and gave me reproachful and wary looks while they helped her stumble to the bathroom.
That’s right, darlin’. I’ll be the leader of my own girl gang.
A hard shove from behind put my internal revels to a harsh end, and I stumbled into a table, bruising my hips. Before I had a chance to react something hit me hard in the back around my left kidney, and in the next instant my vision went white as pain seared through me. And kept searing while I fought unsuccessfully to resist or jerk away or anything to get away from the source of the agony.
After several endless seconds the pain stopped as abruptly as a light going off. My legs buckled as much from the pain as from the sudden end of it, and I stumbled sideways to fall hard to the floor.
“And stay down, bitch!” a familiar voice sneered.
Stun gun, I realized as I fought to catch my breath. A lot like the time I was Tasered by Kristi Charish’s goons, though not quite as sucktastic. And the voice belonged to Debbie Stewart, another Carol Ann crony. I tried to turn to deal with her, but to my surprise Randy stepped between us. Good thing, since I wasn’t moving all that well.
“What the fuck you think you’re doing, Debbie?” Randy challenged.
I managed to push up to a swaying kneel, shifting enough to see Debbie with a stun gun in her hand and a defiant look on her face. Good thing Randy had my back since my left side was a mass of pins and needles thanks to her holding the stun gun on me for so long. If she’d tried to hit me again, there wasn’t a damn thing I could’ve done about it.
Debbie took a step back in the face of Randy’s anger, then jerked her chin up. “You saw what that narc whore did to Carol Ann!” she declared, a vicious gleam in her eyes. “We don’t take that shit around here.”
Seriously? I thought as I accomplished one knee up. Half the stains on the floor were from bar fights. This place was a staph infection’s wet dream.
Randy’s shoulders tensed. “You just pulled some low shit even for ’round here,” he said, words clipped. He only talked like that when he was really riled up. “And, yeah, I saw what she did to Carol Ann.” He took a step toward Debbie, and it warmed my heart to see her back away in response. “She kicked Carol Ann’s ass, so I’m thinking you best get your ass outta here before Angel gets up.”
That sounded like the perfect cue for me to do exactly that, though it probably would’ve been a lot more impressive if I hadn’t been swaying. Damn it, my left side still didn’t want to behave, but a familiar ripple of hunger told me my parasite was on the job.
“She ain’t gonna do shit,” Debbie said, then brandished the stun gun. “And you best back off!” She looked around at the crowd for support, but frowned when she saw that most were simply watching or recording the entire event for future shits and giggles.
A mild stir in the crowd behind her drew my attention long enough for me to see the familiar blond head of Philip. Relief shot through me, quickly followed by worry. The rugged, clean-cut operative and former soldier would stand out in this place like a lion among kittens, and the last thing I needed was for Randy to get spooked or for even more fighting to break out. Yet even as I caught Philip’s eye and gave him a slight It’s cool head shake, I realized he wasn’t attracting anywhere near the attention I’d expected. He had a bit of a slouch in his shoulders now, and an unhurried air that fit with the overall vibe of the crowd. The instant he caught my signal he smoothly shifted direction to amble to the bar as if he’d been headed that way the entire time.
Fortunately all Debbie saw was that the crowd wasn’t as firmly on her side as she’d hoped. Scowling, she swung her attention back to Randy. “Why you have to go get in the middle of things?” she whined. “You should be taking up for poor Carol Ann!”
Randy folded his arms over his chest, ignoring the stun gun completely. “Carol Ann took a lot less hurt than she was planning to give out,” he said. “I’d say that’s even. It’s you buttin’ into things now, so you’d best back the fuck off.” He sounded laid back again, but I knew him well enough to know he was still pissed. Right now I was fine with letting him handle things. Even though my left side wasn’t buzzing anymore, I felt just enough brain hunger to know I wouldn’t have any zombie super speed going for me.
Debbie hesitated, defiance flickering in the face of Randy’s staunch defense of me along with the lack of overwhelming crowd support. Glaring at Randy, she waved the stun gun in my direction. “She got off easy!” she announced, then turned and flounced off toward the bathroom.
For an instant I considered charging after her to tackle her face first into the grimy linoleum, and even took a step forward to do so, before deciding it wouldn’t be the best idea considering my overall goal here. Eyes on the prize, Angel.
With the excitement over and no blood to clean up or ogle, the onlookers drifted away to return to their games or conversations or drug deals or whatever the hell they’d been up to before. No one was giving me Fuck You looks anymore, so apparently I’d proved myself by decking Carol Ann. It didn’t make a lick of sense, but I understood it all the same.