A Dozen Dreadfuls

He was alone; the streets, deserted. The city lay sleeping in the sultry hush of the summer's night. He trudged along, kicking the debris at the edge of the pavement, stopping now and then to rifle through the trash for anything that might be worthwhile. Here, he found a dime; there, a perfect silver chain someone had lost when the clasp came unfastened, freeing it to slide unnoticed into the piles of refuse. He smiled as he held the gleaming silver treasure up in the luminance of the streetlight before he stuffed it greedily into the crumpled paper sack he carried. The pickings were slim tonight, but he was grateful for what he did find.

Rounding the next corner, he stopped cold. Two men were arguing in the alley. The heavier of the two grabbed the other by the collar, nearly jerking the man off his feet. "I said, give me the rest of it, punk!"

"Quinn, I already told ya. This is all I got, man," the smaller man squeaked.

Quinn let go and shoved his companion to the pavement. "Sure you did, Amos. Sure you did. Okay . . . fine. So give me the rest of the goods then, and we'll be square."

Amos squirmed at Quinn's feet, looking like he'd puke when Quinn asked for the drugs. "Uh—no can do. See, my mark—well, he done stole the rest of it from me."

"Is that so?" Quinn demanded, kicking Amos in the gut.

The tramp ducked farther into the shadows, fearing the two men would spot him. This whole affair was no concern of his, and to tell the truth, he knew he should go on his way. He should be making tracks as far from here as he could, as fast as he could, but something made him stay glued to the spot, fascinated by the real-life drama unfolding before him.

Amos was doubled over in pain from Quinn's assault.

Quinn grabbed the writhing man by the hair of the head and jerked him to his feet. Amos screamed, but Quinn just laughed. "How many times do I have to tell you? You're supposed to take your mark for all he's worth; not the other way around, stupid. This is—what? The third time your mark has made off with the payload, leaving you with only crumbs? Does that seem right to you?"

"No," Amos managed to say between gritted teeth.

"And does it seem right to you for me to let you live when you are such a screw-up?"

Amos' breaths were coming in short gasps now. He tried to escape from Quinn's steel grip, and the tramp thought he actually heard the sound of the punk's hair ripping from his scalp as Amos staggered free, leaving a handful of his hair in Quinn's hand. "Aw now, come on, man. Surely you don't mean that."

"Of course, I mean it. You didn't lose the goods to your mark, did you? Did you?"

"I—"

Quinn threw Amos' hair to the pavement in disgust and reached inside his jacket, bringing out a .45 and aiming it at the other man in one fluid movement. He brought the gun to bear on Amos so fast the tramp could hardly believe his eyes.

"No!" Amos wailed. "Please, man. I got a wife and two kids. Don't kill me. Please!"

"I'd be doing them a favor, punk," Quinn spat. "You're a loser. Why don't you admit the truth? You sold a little of it for more than you should have and took the rest of it yourself. I know your kind. You're not just a loser; you're a junkie to boot. Probably beat on your wife and kids, you filthy—"

Amos stared down the barrel of the .45, his hands shaking, his gasps a mixture of hysterical sob and wheeze. The front of his pants turned dark with the stain of urine that traveled down his leg and pooled at his feet. He didn't say another word, unable to pull enough air into his lungs to expel the utterance. He swallowed hard, and then closed his eyes, perhaps hoping if he couldn't see when Quinn pulled the trigger, it wouldn't be true.

Quinn cocked the revolver.

Amos winced and steeled himself for the shot that never came.

At that exact instant, the tramp saw movement in the alley behind Quinn. He was still trying to decide what it was when a ten-foot tall monster took two giant steps from the shadows and knocked the gun from Quinn's hand. Another second was all it took, and pieces of Quinn flew all over the alley before Quinn even had the chance to react.