Dead Boys Read Online Free PDF Page B

are for. They circle and dip, lights flashing.
    Tracy is still asleep. She could barely walk from the trolley to the car but wouldn’t let us touch her. “Stop laughing,” she yelled, so messed up she was imagining things. She’s curled up on the backseat now, her arms protecting her head. We decide not to wake her until we’re sure of something.
    The police at the roadblock can’t tell us much. The wind picked up, and everything went to shit. The gymnasium of a nearby high school has been pressed into service as a shelter. We are to go there and wait for more information. A fire truck arrives, and they pull aside the barricades to let it through.
    “How bad are we looking?” I ask a cop.
    He ignores me.
    I back the car up and turn around, and Liz guides me to the school. We pass a carnival on the way, in the parking lot of a church. A Ferris wheel, a merry-go-round, a few games. People wander from ride to ride, booth to booth, swiping at the ash that tickles their noses. A beer sign sputters in the window of a pizza parlor. A kid in a white shirt and black vest sweeps the sidewalk in front of the multiplex. His friend makes him laugh. A mile away everything is burning.
    My stomach is cramped by the time we get to the school. I can see into the gym from where I park. Cots are lined up beneath posters shouting GO TIGERS!!! Two women sit at a table near the door, signing people in, and farther away, in the shadows by the drinking fountains, a group of men stand and smoke. That’s about it. Most people have somewhere better to go. Tony must have told Kendra about angels. What a thing to put into a kid’s mind.
    A news crew is interviewing a girl who just arrived. She’s carrying a knapsack and a cardboard box full of china. They shine a light in her face and ask about what she lost and where she’ll go. She says something about her cat. She had to leave it behind.
    I close my eyes and bring my fists to my temples. I have to be at work early for a meeting. I can see Big Mike sliding out of his Caddy, squeezing his gut past the steering wheel. He’s my mentor, he likes to say. He’s been married four times. He gets winded walking to the john. There’s nothing lucky about him.
    “I want a baby,” I say. The words just get away from me.
    “Jack,” Liz says. I’m afraid to open my eyes to look at her. Tracy giggles in the backseat, and we both turn. She reaches up to scratch her face and grins in her sleep.

Chapter Two: Bank of America
    Bank of America
    A FTER WE TAKE CONTROL OF A BANK AND SUBDUE THE security guard, it’s my job to watch the customers while Moriarty slides over the counter and empties the tills. I’m not sure why this task fell to me. Even after all this time, I’m not the most convincing bad guy. I’ve worked on my posture and stuff in the mirror, practiced evil glares and unnerving twitches, but I still worry that someone is going to see through me.
    The gun I carry helps. A big, ugly, silver thing, it’s fairly undeniable. I’m careful not to abuse the upper hand it gives me, though. You see psychos playing those games in movies, and you’re always glad when they get theirs. And I’ve been on the other end of it, too, shortly after I moved to L.A. I know what it feels like. As I left a liquor store one night, a couple of peewees rushed me and flashed a piece. My wallet practically flew out of my pocket and into their hands. It took me weeks to stop shaking. I vomited right there on the sidewalk. I keep that in mind when we’re doing our thing. No need to push it.
    I T’S A SPECIAL day. We’re gathered in the cramped little office that Moriarty peddles cut-rate car insurance out of to review his plans for our final job. Moriarty, because he’s the mastermind of our crew. Under his direction, we’ve pulled off twenty-seven successful bank robberies in three years — more than Jesse James — and in all that time we’ve never been caught, never had the cops on our trail, never even