"That night I saw someone following me home." Her face had a curious strained look about it. "It's been that way every night since. I don't know if they've found me here yet or not." "Cops?" " Not cops." She said it very simply, very calmly, but couldn't quite hide the terror that tried to scream the answer out. She begged me to say something, but I let her squeeze it out herself. " The police came again, but Berga wouldn't tell them anything." The tongue moistened the lips again. The scarlet was starting to wash away and I could see the natural tones of of wet flesh. " The other men came... they were different from the police. Federal men, I think. They took her away. Before she came back...Those men came." She put something into the last three words that wasn't in the others, some breathless, nameless fear. Her hands were tight balls with the nails biting into the palms. A glassiness had passed over her eyes while she thought about it, then vanished as if afraid it had been seen. " They said I'd die if I talked to anyone." Her hand moved up and covered her mouth. " I'm tired of being scared, " she said. Her head drooped forward, nodding gently to the soft sobs that seemed to stick in her chest. What's the answer? How do you tell them they won't die when they know you're lying about it because they're marked already?
Mickey Spillane
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of a future which you plan
Only remember me, you'll understand
But if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once we had.
"Kiss me, Mike. I want you to kiss me...The liar's kiss that says "I love you," but means something else. You're good at giving such kisses. Kiss me."
clique
