Posted by Chuck on August 12, 2001 at 13:30:49:
Outside Sam's Place, white fingered lightning sketched the night sky, erasing and redrawing itself, as if searching for perfection and never ever finding it. The thunder was deep, enormous, a constant dissatisfied rumble and the rain was an angry kind of rain, punching hard at the impenetrable street like a billion tiny fists. It wasn't a night to be outside, but it wasn't a night to be inside at Sam's Place either, at least not for a woman like…
"Two words," Rache said when she came through the door at Sam's Place. "I'm wet!"
While Ronstadt pleaded with Desperado in the corner jukebox a dozen lost desperados checked out Rache as she as she closed the door on the storm.
One of them, I The killer, sipped his whiskey at the end of the bar as he stared at her. His eyes spoke for him, no need for vowels or consonants or verbal communication of any kind, and his eyes said in their icy blue accent, "You're dead."