Slice Read Online Free PDF

luxury: sumptuous estate on .75 acres with tennis court, pool, maid's quarters, 5 bdr, 6 bth, guest house, private security fence with electric eye gate, sunken loggia, $2,900,000.” He let tile paper slip from his hand and flutter to the ground.
    It was then he realized for the first time that he had his arm resting in some birdshit.

CHICAGO

    I t was very cold down there on the bottom of Lake Michigan with the rest of the singing killer whales. But he fought the strong urge to wake up from whatever it was he was in—this state of grace that allowed him to enjoy the rare and treasured privilege of studying their mysterious, melancholy mode of communication in this way. It was so restful, reassuring, restoring, to wait here in this dark, cold, untroubled place.
    He would like to wait here until all humanity passed by, wait until their systems had relaxed, wait as he listened to the interplay of the great whales, experimenting, as always, reaching out with his unusual mind, hoping to find the level that would allow him to eavesdrop and manipulate their subaqueous thoughts as he enjoyed their sad songs, and then he would float back up to the surface, coming up under the carefree people he hated so passionately—how easily he could kill them then—and he smiled as he let himself match his strong pulse to the distinctive, throbbing theme music of the movie shark. And this was a unique thought for the killer, as he thought, Ta-dum, ta-dum, in his mind, thinking the notes in tempo with the heartbeat music of the white shark, because it was one of the only times he had ever told himself a joke. And the smile on his bandaged and blood-encrusted face was as wide as the wrapping of taped rags would allow, and he came to fully for the first time and pulled himself up saying, “Get food,” and the old woman nearby almost had a heart attack at the sound of the deep voice in back of her.
    “ OH! Shit, boy. Oh, my stars. Land sakes alive, Big Boy gave Pippy a start then. Oh, Big Boy mustn't startle Mommy.” She looked at him with her head cocked to one side.
    He thought how easily he could pinch that ugly face in his strong paw and snap that withered neck. He could kill her, even in his current state, as most people could swat a fly. “ GET FOOD ."
    “Yes, sir,” she said, and began fumbling with a can opener and something he could not see. He was having trouble getting his eyes to focus. He felt intermittent waves of dizziness, but he sensed they would soon pass. He must have nourishment. While the old lady opened a can of something he dragged the huge duffel bag over and rummaged around in it until he found several things he wanted. He took out some money from a secret hiding place and unfolded a ten-dollar bill, then a twenty, then larger bills, which he hid again. Then he took the small metal mirror and looked at himself for the first time. He was a thing that could not be shocked, but he was almost shocked at what he saw. He began peeling the mound of bloody rag from his head.
    “Don't do that, Big—"
    “SHUT UP,” he roared at her, and she looked away. He removed the filthy rags. The thread or whatever she'd used had made the wounds in the side of his face look like something out of a horror movie. “Give me clean water,” he commanded, and the old woman handed him a small pop bottle with cloudy water in it. He began to clean off his wounds and then studied her handiwork. It would suffice to hold the skin closed for now. He put a battle dressing on and gave her some money. She drew back her hand, but when she saw he wasn't going to hurt her, she reached out and took the money.
    “I'll tell you what I need. You go get it and bring it here. Then I'll give you this.” He showed her a fifty-dollar bill.
    “Okay,” she said brightly, and he immediately sensed she was quite deranged and that the lure of money would not be what would pull her back. He told her what to get him but he could see she would not be able to