Legion (An Apocalyptic Horror Novel) (Hell on Earth Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

over to Mass.
    Mass put his hands out. “Hey, hey, keep that shit inside your jacket. Don’t go flashing it around out here. He said we can all go inside and do business in the back room. He’s waiting for us.”
    “All right, let’s get this over with,” said Vamps. “What’s this guy’s name, anyway?”
    “Pusher,” said Mass.
    Gingerbread folded his arms. “You sure everything’s cool, Mass?”
    “Yeah, Ginge. Guy’s sound.”
    Vamps led the way, wanting to be first in the firing line if anything went down. While Mass could handle himself better than anyone, Ginge and Ravy were less handy. Ravy had grown up in a strict Muslim family that had erased most of his confidence by the time he was ten. Ginge was the son of two alcoholic parents and had turned to food early on as a way to drown out their constant arguments. Mass lived alone after a fall out with his single father, a burly builder from Lambeth. Vamps… Well, Vamps had no one and never had. No one except his brothers here with him now.
    Entering the pub, Vamps was immediately hit by the sticky-sweet odour of spilled lager. He felt hardened stains underfoot as he traversed the threadbare carpet, but he kept his eyes forward, not looking anyone in the eye. Like everywhere else, the news was playing on the television above the bar.
    A gang stood at the back of the room watching him approach. The men were in their twenties, but the young girls draped over them looked much younger. One girl even wore a school uniform. No one said a word to Vamps, but one guy—an idiot with tribal art on his face like Mike Tyson—nodded his head towards a door at the side of the room. Vamps nodded respectfully, not wanting to cause a scene, and headed through the door.
    A dance floor lay inside, with an empty bar and chairs piled up on top of the tables. Looked like no one had danced there for a while. Only three men stood present, and it was obvious who was in charge.
    “You Vamps?” said a skinhead with wiry arms and legs. A long scar ran alongside the left side of his face, giving him a villainous look that cemented him as the group’s leader. Underlings didn’t have disfiguring scars unless they really went out of their way to make themselves a target.
    “Yeah, I’m Vamps. Heard we can do a bit of quick business. You Pusher?”
    “Maybe I am.”
    Vamps tilted his head but kept his stare on the other guy. “Maybe?”
    “Let me see what you got, boy. Then we’ll talk business.”
    Vamps looked at Ravy, and nodded to let his friend know to go along. Nervously, Ravy slid out the packet of Charlie and moved across the dance floor with it. The silence broke only by the awkward clip-clops of his Timberlands on the floorboards.
    When Ravy offered out the packet of product, Pusher didn’t respond. He left Ravy standing there looking stupid with his arm outstretched. It was a power play—and it irritated Vamps immensely. He had to fight to keep his cool. While Vamps had no qualms with taking out the three guys in this room, there was at least another six guys in the bar and perhaps more who would keep them from ever making it out of the area in one piece.
    Things couldn’t come to blows.
    Before things got too tense, Pusher finally took the packet from Ravy and popped open the seal. He dipped his thumb into the powder and rubbed it over his gums. Lips puckered, he nodded. “Not the best I’ve had, but it’ll fly. Give you two-hundred for it.”
    “What the fuck?” Ravy spluttered. “You told Mass five-hundred.”
    “Yeah, you did,” Mass confirmed. “Thought we were sound about it.”
    Pusher shrugged, as if it were of little consequence to him. “That was before I tasted it. It ain’t that good. Plus, there’s bacon everywhere right now. Not a good time to be holdin’.”
    Ravy looked at Vamps with desperation in his eyes. Vamps wished his boy could keep things a little cooler, but the situation was in play now. They needed to get rid of the gear, and