by Leo Romero
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Juan pulled up on a street corner of downtown Tijuana and jumped out of the truck. Straight away he was accosted by a short thug in a bandanna, trying to push some marijuana on him. Juan sent him on his way before he went to the back of the truck and his passenger.
“Zona Centro, amigo,” he informed Troy, who was still squatting there like a troll under a bridge. His face was drooping off his skull in despondency.
“This place stinks,” Troy stated with disdain.
“Then you should feel at home, amigo,” Juan said with a small grin.
Troy looked around him. Streets bustling with tourists, gangbangers, and street vendors greeted him. What did Trixie send him here for? What was he supposed to find?
He grumbled to himself as he climbed out of the truck and placed his sandaled feet on the sidewalk.
“What am I supposed to do here?” he asked Juan with a shrug of his shoulders.
Juan returned the shrug. “Beats me,” he said and reached in for Troy’s stuff. He pushed it into Troy’s chest.
Troy snatched it. “Gracias,” he said, his voice laced with irony.
Juan cackled as he made his way back to the driver’s seat of his truck. He started up the engine and wound his window down. “Adios, pendejo,” he shouted back toward Troy and honked his horn. Troy gave him the finger as the truck left the scene.
When Juan was finally gone, Troy slicked down his hair and straightened his shirt, mumbling something to himself. Asshole!
He turned his attention to his surroundings. He found himself on a dirty street corner in the heart of town. The sidewalk was a hotbed of sleaze. Shady characters with tats and bandannas stood alongside Mexican girls showing off their legs and titties in the warm night air, their outrageous high heels a giveaway that they were available at a price. The place was abuzz with garish neon lights and panting tourists looking for action. A hot stink of fried food and bad drainage filled the air, the whole thing set against Latino rhythms playing out of the open air bars.
Troy stood and soaked up the atmosphere. He nodded his head. Hey, this is my kinda town, he thought to himself with a sense of mild surprise. He’d been expecting a burning hot hellhole with danger on every corner. Well, that was what he got, but he wasn’t expecting the carnal pleasures to be running alongside.
“This could end up being a nice vacation,” he said to himself with a grin. He rubbed his hands. Now, where to begin?
First things first. Get a drink, preferably at a strip joint. And with so many to choose from, he knew he was bound to have a good time. He checked his watch. It read 11:33 pm. Was that US or Mexican time? Were they the same? Man, he should’ve checked. He marched along the street past a vendor selling tacos filled with what looked like clumps of puke, and straight up to the nearest high-heeled lady who was standing idly in the thin alley between a hotel and a small cocktail bar. He stopped ahead of her, and she grinned at him, her tired brown eyes suddenly kicking into life.
“Hey, big man,” she said to him.
“Hola, señorita,” he replied, staring down her cleavage; she was sporting a snake tattoo on her right breast that was just visible. “Tell me, what time is dawn around here?”
She frowned and shook her head. “Huh?”
He pointed at the sky and drew a big circle with his finger. “Dawn,” he said. “What time does night end and the sun come up?”
“Oh. Around cinco. Five. It’s okay, if you pay now I stay till tomorrow afternoon. No rush.”
Troy chuckled. “That’s great to hear, sweetie, cause I’m in no rush either.” He reached out and lightly pinched her chin. “What’s the best place for action around here?”
“You can try Shanghai.”
“Shanghai? I thought I was in Mexico.”
“Only name of bar, baby. Go check it out. Over there.” She pointed across the street at the red front with dragons all over it. “Love hotel next door if you like.”
“Maybe I like, baby,” Troy said, his stare never leaving Shanghai. He turned back to face her. “I’ll see you around.”
She smiled. “You come back sometime.”
“Maybe I will,” he said before he headed off for the neon-lit bar. He passed through more bustling sidewalk on his way, the stink of street food getting stronger in his nostrils; it didn’t look like anything he wanted to risk chowing on. The last thing he wanted was endless trips to the can, especially with so many señoritas just waiting for him. He licked his lips; more girls in high heels were hanging around the hotel next to Shanghai, smoking cigarettes, waiting for clientele.
One of the girls standing outside Shanghai itself approached him. “Hey, first drink free,” she said to him, handing him a coupon.
“Free is my favorite price,” Troy said as he took it from her. He stepped right into the bar to be greeted by loud Latino dance music whilst bathed in red lights. He paid at the ticket booth before he received the obligatory frisk from a stocky Mexican bouncer.
After that brief moment of discomfort, he made his way into the main floor. The first thing he laid eyes on was the naked flesh all over the stage at the front of the dance floor. Hot Mexican chicks with tan lines. “Just what the doctor ordered,” he said to himself as he eyed them all up and down. He turned and headed for the bar where he cashed in his coupon. He got a snakebite cocktail, then spotted an empty seat by the stage. He rushed over to it like a dog in heat. He jumped in the chair before anyone else got a chance, spilling some of his cocktail down his shirt. He rubbed the white flower print where the spill landed and placed his drink down on the stage. Now he had the perfect view; tits and ass, now that’s what I’m talking about, baby!
A lecherous grin broke out across his face. He began swaying from side-to-side in time with the nearest firecracker’s hips, mesmerized by them like he was being hypnotized by a cobra. He imagined running his hands along her smooth brown thighs, giving that pert ass a much-needed spank cause she’s a naughty girl, oh yes you are.
She gave him a wicked smile, and a warmth spread across his crotch.
Man, this place puts Chicago to bed, he thought to himself with glee. Why haven’t I come down here before? I should make the trip south more often.
She stepped to the front of the stage, her high-heels clacking in time with the music. On reaching Troy, she squatted down ahead of him, her thigh muscles flexing, giving him the perfect view. Troy’s mind almost popped. He grabbed some notes from his pocket and shoved them into the strap of her thong.
“Gracias, sugar,” she said to him, stroking his greasy hair. She rose up to her full height and went off to dance again.
Troy pumped his fists on the air. Now, this is what I’m talking about!
He eyed all the ladies, working out which ones he wanted to take to the hotel next door. Hey, why not all of them? The money here was worth nothing next to the dollar, so he could afford them all!
He clapped his hands like an excited kid on Christmas morning.
While he ogled, some guy came and sat next to him. “Hey, man,” he said to Troy.
Troy whipped his head around to stare at the guy now next to him. He looked like one of the shady guys from outside; Mexican, with a blue bandanna covering the top of his head. Troy’s smile vanished. “What do you want?” he asked the guy in the bandanna. Right then, he didn’t want guys coming along to ruin his buzz.
“You wanna get high?” Bandanna Guy asked him.
Troy glanced from him to the luscious ladies on the stage. His eyes flicked back again. “What you got?” he asked, intrigued.
“We got it all, homie,” Bandanna Guy said with a salesman’s smile. “Marijuana, meth, coca. All upstairs.”
Troy’s eyes rolled upward. “Upstairs?”
Bandanna Guy nodded. “Upstairs.”
Troy glanced at the ladies once more. One of them was blowing him a kiss. Troy grinned and waved at her. With a pleasant sigh, he turned back to Bandanna Guy. “I suppose a quick hit won’t
hurt. Lead the way, amigo.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Alicia showed Dom and Trixie into a back room of an abandoned house. Waiting on opposite sides of the floor were a couple of makeshift beds; a few blankets and a pillow each. “I’m sorry there isn’t anything more comfortable,” she said. “We don’t have all that much here.”
“It’s okay,” said Dom. “This’ll be perfect.”
“The bathroom’s next door,” Alicia informed them.
“Thanks,” Trixie said, putting her stuff down on the couch against the far wall.
“We’ll wake you at dawn.”
Dom nodded. “Bright and early.”
“Well, goodnight,” Alicia then said.
“Goodnight,” Trixie replied without even looking at her.
“Goodnight, Alicia,” Dom said with a smile.
“Goodnight, Dom,” Alicia replied, returning the smile.
Trixie watched them out of the corner of her eye.
Alicia then turned to leave. Dom went and held the door open for her.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Hey, no problem,” Dom said with a pleasant grin. They caught one another’s stare for a brief moment. Her big, warm eyes glimmered in the low light.
She bit her lower lip, before she giggled. “See you, Dom.”
“Bye, Alicia,” he replied.
She turned and left the room. Dom’s smile remained as he closed the door behind her.
“Well you two seem to be getting along just cozy,” Trixie noted, taking her stuff out of her bag.
“Alicia?” Dom asked, cocking a thumb at the door. “Yeah, she’s a nice girl.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
Dom placed his hands on his hips. “Is there something you want to say, Trixie?”
“Yeah. Make sure you stay on that side of the room.”
“And there was me thinking this would be a special night. The first we spend together.”
Trixie turned back to stare at him. “Ugh. Can you turn the other way please?”
“What?”
“I wanna take off my pants.”
“Oh. Okay.” Dom turned his back on her. “Go ahead, I’m not looking.” He stared at the wall ahead of him while Trixie got undressed behind him. He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. “Finished yet?”
“No.”
It’s okay, I’ll just stand here like this all night, he thought to himself, rolling his head in its socket, the bones in his neck cracking. As he did, he caught a glimpse of something moving to the left. The window there didn’t have a curtain. The black sky outside turned it into a mirror. He could just make out Trixie’s silhouette within. She was just in her underwear.
Dom flicked his eyes away, then back again, unable to help himself. He knew he shouldn’t, but Trixie’s slim, toned body was on display, and the blood in his veins was lava red.
As he stared, he ran a hand down his face, giving his head a brief shake in disbelief. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on her. Her legs seemed to stretch forever, her thigh muscles extra defined in the shadowy reflection. Her tight abs rippled delicately beneath her skin.
She turned, giving him a glimpse of her pert ass. He almost slapped himself. Man, control yourself, Dom! But, a longing was growing inside him the more he stared. He wanted to just turn and grab her and have her there and then and—
She threw on a fresh tee and pulled a pair of shorts up over her legs, shattering the desire in half. Dom flicked his eyes away.
“Okay, I’m done,” she declared.
Dom slowly turned, a smile on his face. “See?” he said, his hands out to the sides. “I can be a gentleman.”
Trixie gave him an unsure look in return. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
She then grabbed her toothbrush and headed for the bathroom.
Once she left the room, Dom sighed to himself. Man, she’s a tough cookie.
He rubbed his hot face, the last couple of minutes an exercise in frustration. “Wish she wasn’t so damn uptight,” he grumbled to himself as he began undressing and putting his nighttime clothes on.
Outside, the grasshoppers had the building encircled. The air inside was dense with heat. He went and opened some more windows. More hot air came gushing into the room, accompanied by grasshoppers chirping. “Man, this heat is something else,” he said to himself with a puff of his cheeks. And those damn grasshoppers were enough to drive anyone crazy!
Give me the sound of Chicago’s busy streets any day of the week.
He went and switched on the big fan in the corner of the room. It blasted a luscious gush of cool air that, to Dom, was like Heaven. He put his face in front of the fan and soaked it up. He positioned the fan at the head of the room so it blew constant air on the two beds.
Trixie then re-entered the room. “Bathroom’s all yours,” she said, putting away her toothbrush.
“Thanks.” Dom grabbed his toothbrush and went to the bathroom. It was a small stone room with an ancient looking shower and a dirty toilet. He went to the sink and turned on the faucet. A thin stream of gritty looking water began flowing out in spurts. Watching it cough and splutter, Dom realized how lucky he was to have Vincent’s mansion and all its mod-cons to live in.
He brushed his teeth, then got in the shower. The showerhead dribbled out that same gritty water in spasmodic bursts. He spotted a couple of cockroaches on the wall; he winced. Avoiding them, he showered, washing under his arms and crotch with his bare hand. He finished up and stepped out of the shower, hardly feeling any cleaner than before he stepped in. He dried off, put his nightclothes back on and then returned to their room. Trixie was lying down in her bed, her eyes closed. Dom went and turned off the light, dumping the room into darkness. He then went and lay down on his side. He got as comfortable as he could lying on a hard floor with just a few blankets as buffer. He stared into the darkness, his brain ticking over.
“I wonder how Troy is getting on in Tijuana,” he asked out loud.
“I’m sure he’ll be right at home,” Trixie replied from across the room.
“Yeah, I’ve heard rumors about that place.”
“Exactly the type of place to find any fangheads or even vamps who might know something about the Chaos Order.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t betray us.”
“Don’t worry, Dad upped his pay. Troy knows what’s best for him, and that’s money. Give him just enough and he’ll always come back looking for more. As long as he does that and Dad keeps paying, it won’t be in his interests to betray us.”
A brief moment of silence took over. Something then played on Dom’s mind. He sat up on his elbows. “Hey, you never did tell me how the daughter of a vampire hunter became a fanghead,” he said toward where Trixie lay.
“I told you before not to ask,” came her curt reply.
“Just interested, that’s all.”
“Well, I’m not. Interested in talking about it, that is,” she replied with a spiky tone.
“Okay, okay,” Dom said, patting his hands on the air. “I won’t mention it again.” Everything went silent, the sound of the grasshoppers outside becoming audible once more. Dom then remembered something. “How are your hands?” he asked her.
“They hurt. But, not as much as yesterday.”
“I never did say thanks for coming back to save us.”
“Well, you have now.”
“I mean it,” Dom said, trying to inject as much sincerity as possible into his voice. “Thanks.”
Trixie sighed. “It’s okay. It’s what I’m paid to do. Get some rest. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“We sure do.” Dom rolled over onto his back and patted down his blankets. By the time he closed his eyes, the beer and the tiredness overcame him and he was asleep.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The upstairs of Shanghai resembled a Victorian opium den. The décor was a red and white Chinese pastiche, dragons and lotus flowers stenciled all over the walls. The music was some
angry Latin hip-hop that seemed totally out of whack for a drug den. Something more like Pink Floyd or The Doors would’ve been more apt. Dotted around the place were dirty futons and couches, some of which were occupied with loitering stoners and gangbangers, openly taking their drugs without fear of reprisal from the local cops. Maybe they are the cops, Troy thought to himself. He shivered at the thought.
Troy was already seated at a couch in the corner of the room on his own, pipe in hand. He scored some glass from Bandanna Guy before he went off looking for more customers. Troy took another hit of the meth and then slunk back on the dirty couch. It was decent stuff and already, the naked chicks on the stage downstairs were somewhere at the back of his now hazy mind. He closed his eyes and let the meth go to work on him.
A dreamy smile spread across his face. Maybe this vacation wasn’t turning out to be so bad. He could stay downtown for a few nights; get high, get some hookers, then go back to Trixie and that runt and tell them he couldn’t find anything for them. He tried, but no go. No vamps, no Chaos Order. They’d been chased outta town or something. He could even tell them he had a lead but needed to go back for a few more nights just to make sure. He’d need some more cash of course, and once Trixie coughed up, he could do it all over again. Hookers and blow. Man, why didn’t he come down here sooner? Mexico was all right, man. Very all right.
“Hey, amigo,” a voice then said, snapping his contented train of thought.
Troy’s heavy eyelids came halfway open. He found himself staring at Bandanna Guy again; he was standing ahead of Troy’s couch. With him were two other tattooed guys, much bigger than Bandanna Guy. “How you enjoying Tijuana?” Bandanna Guy asked, but there was an aggressiveness about him that wasn’t there before.
An alarm sounded somewhere deep inside Troy’s head, but the meth was clouding it in a haze of synthetic pleasure.
“Whu—?” was all could manage before one of the big guys stepped forward, reached down, grabbed handfuls of his shirt and dragged him to his feet.
