The Book With No Name Read Online Free

the din in the bar fell to a gentle hush.
    The Tapioca was not actually all that busy, for it was still early in the afternoon. There were only two tables in use, one near the bar, with three men seated around it, andanother in the far corner harbouring two shady-looking characters leaning over a couple of bottles of beer. The parties at both tables were now taking a long, hard look at the two strangers.
    The regulars were not familiar with Hubal monks, as they weren’t often seen round those parts. Nor did the bar’s customers know that these two strangers dressed in odd clothes were the first two monks even to leave the island of Hubal in years. The slightly taller of the two was Kyle. He was also the more senior monk. His companion, Peto, was a mere novice learning his trade. Not that Sanchez would have been able to tell. Nor would he have cared.
    The monks had come to the Tapioca Bar for a very particular reason: it was the one place in Santa Mondega they had actually heard of. They had followed Father Taos’s instructions and asked a few locals where they would be most likely to find a man who could not be killed. The emphatic response was ‘Try the Tapioca Bar’. A few people had even been kind enough to suggest a name for the man they were looking for. ‘The Bourbon Kid’ came up on several occasions. The only other name offered was that of a man who had recently arrived in town, and who went by the name of Jefe. A promising start to the quest that the two monks had set out upon. Or so they thought.
    ‘Excuse me, sir,’ said Kyle, still smiling politely at Sanchez. ‘May we have two glasses of water, please?’
    Sanchez picked up two empty glasses, filled them with piss from the bottle under the bar, and placed them in front of the men.
    ‘Six dollars.’ If the strangers didn’t detect a challenge in the outrageous price, his surly tone signalled it clearly enough.
    Kyle nudged Peto and leaned back to whisper in his ear, all the while beaming his forced smile at Sanchez.
    ‘Peto, give him some money,’ he hissed.
    Peto pulled a face. ‘But Kyle, isn’t six dollars rather expensive for two glasses of water?’ the young monk whispered back.
    ‘Just give him the money,’ said Kyle urgently. ‘We don’t want to look like idiots.’
    Peto glanced over Kyle’s shoulder at Sanchez and smiled at the impatient-looking bartender.
    ‘I think this guy’s ripping us off.’
    ‘Just give him the money … quickly.’
    ‘Okay, okay, but have you seen that water he’s given us? It’s a bit – sort of – yellowy.’ He took a breath and added, ‘Looks like urine.’
    ‘Peto, just pay the man.’
    Peto pulled a handful of notes from a small black bag on his belt, counted out six one-dollar bills and handed them to Kyle. Kyle in turn handed the money to Sanchez, who took it and shook his head disapprovingly. It could only be a matter of time before someone picked on these two oddballs, and it was their own fault for looking and acting the way they did. He turned to place the money in the cash register but, as usual, he hadn’t even finished ringing up the sale before the first question was asked of the two strangers.
    ‘Hey, whadda you two pricks want?’ called out one of the two shady characters at the table in the corner.
    Kyle could see that the man who had called out was looking in his direction, so he leaned back again and whispered in Peto’s ear, ‘I think he’s talking to us.’
    ‘Really?’ said Peto, sounding surprised. ‘What’s a prick?’
    ‘I don’t know, but it sounds like it could be an insult.’
    Kyle turned around, and saw that the men at the corner table had got up from their seats. The wooden floorboards quivered violently as these two very shady, very nasty-looking thugs made their way over to the two monks. They had a distinctly unwelcoming look about them. A look that suggested trouble. Even a couple of naive out-of-towners like Kyle and Peto could see that.
    ‘Whatever