I would have left right then, except I couldn’t find the energy to move. I pulled the little bottle of capsules out of my boot. There were six left. They’d see me through the rest of the night and probably most of the next day. I had a vestigial idea that I ought to pass them round but I didn’t see anyone else about to come out with anything. I decided the best thing to do would be to keep them to myself. It occurred to me that it would be amusing if I stuffed a couple down the kid in the cowboy hat. The trouble, was that I didn’t really have the co-ordination for that kind of adventure, even though he’d probably be better off lying in a foetal position on the stairs than lording it over the stereo. The only alternative to the country music was to tune in to Monk and Easy. Their rap had been going on for at least thirty-six hours, with the only natural breaks coming when they sneaked out to the toilet to shoot up more crystal. They kept theirs to themselves, and I wasn’t about to negotiate an exchange for a couple of my capsules. It didn’t stop me listening to them, though, when the pedal steel music got to be too much. 

    They had a theory that speedfreaks ruled the world. 
    ‘And then there was Kennedy.’
    ‘Right, too right.’
    ‘He had this doctor.’
    ‘Sure, sure, came round every day, Shot him full of meth and B12.’
    ‘Good clinical meth man. The dude came round every day and gave him his shot. Didn’t even know what was happening. Every time he felt bad, just sing out for the doc. He travelled everywhere with him.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘The doc, with Kennedy. Ain’t you listening, man?’
    ‘Sure I’m listening, man. Don’t get paranoid. You know what I mean?’
    ‘I’m not paranoid, man. I know what’s happening.’
    ‘What about Hitler?’
    ‘He was a coke freak.’
    ‘So? What’s wrong with coke?’
    ‘I wouldn’t turn it down, if there was some, but there isn’t so I can’t.’
    ‘Huh?’
    ‘You sure you’re listening, man?’
    ‘Sure I’m sure.’
    ‘So what was wrong with Hitler?’
    ‘He had this doctor called Morrell.’
    ‘Used to shoot him full of coke and belladonna.’
    ‘Right.’
    ‘I mean, imagine being Kennedy, man. Stoned out on meth, threatening to toss bombs at the Russians.’
    ‘I thought you were talking about Hitler.’
    ’Sure I was talking about Hitler. You want to listen, man. The trouble with Hitler was that he fucked up.’
    ’He was surrounded by junkies.’
    ’Goering.’
    ’Goering had methadone invented for him when he couldn’t get any smack.’
    The kid in the cowboy hat had started Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison for the third time. I was trapped between him, the speedfreaks and the wall going on and off. I sideslipped and the room got jagged. I wished I could turn off at least part of it. The overhead went through again and the building shook. Alice’s candle flickered, but she didn’t notice. She just went right on staring. 

    The door opened and the speedfreaks jerked in unison. It was only Ice and Belinda. By the look of them they’d been up on the roof. Ice liked to take Belinda up there, tie her to one of the ventilator pipes and beat her with his belt. If the ritual was over, Ice would probably leave soon. Then Belinda would strip off and show us all her bruises. We’d seen it before, except the kid in the cowboy hat that is. He’d probably get a kick out of it. He looked the type. 

    Ice stuck his thumbs in his belt and thrust his hips forward. The faggots on the third floor were always trying to get to Ice. He had that kind of fast-gun machismo down to a fine art. He’d seen every one of Sergio Leone’s movies at least three times. He turned slowly, scanning the room, watchful and ready to jump. He lingered over the mirror that was propped against the wall between Alice and the mattress. 

    Ice always refused to have anything to do with the faggots from the third floor. He made that very clear, despite the fact that he hung round their landing a little too much. Ice had paused long enough. It was his cue to speak.      
    ‘What’s happening, huh?’
    Nobody answered. Ice’s voice was a fraction too high for the rest of his image. 
    ‘I asked what’s happening’. 
    Easy looked up with a jerk. 
    ‘We were just talking about world power. Amphetamine…’  Easy rolled the word round his tongue ‘…amphetamine power. If you understand what I’m talking about.’
    Ice nodded. A fast tight nod that I’d caught him rehearsing in the bathroom. 
    ‘I understand’. 
    He turned slowly to face the kid in the cowboy hat. 
    ‘Why all the country music?’
    The kid in the cowboy hat rose to a tense half crouch. 
    ‘What’s wrong with country music, friend?’
    There was a long silence while they tried to stare each other down. The wall flashed from grey and back to red. It was Ice who finally gave way.
    ‘Nothing wrong with country music - in the country.’
    Before the drama could go any further Belinda put her hand on Ice’s sleeve.  
    ‘Do you have a cigarette?’
    Ice pushed her away. ‘I’m clean out.’
    ‘You sure?’
    He turned angrily on her. 
    ‘Sure I’m sure. All you ever do is want things.’
   

    It was another of their games. We could all see the almost full pack of Camels sticking out of his shirt pocket. He turned his heel and slammed out of the room. Even above Johnny Cash we could hear his boots going down the stairs. The kid in the cowboy hat climbed to his feet and went over to Belinda. He pulled out a crumpled pack of Luckies. 
    ‘Do you want one of these, honey?’
    Belinda showed her nice even teeth in a Marilyn Monroe smile. 
    ‘Thank you very much.’
    The cowboy lit her cigarette for her. In the flesh, I was reminded that Belinda was in fact quite pretty. She made a living for herself and Ice by making fuck films. She lost quite a lot of work, though, because he left too many marks on her. I suppose you could say something about all work and no play. The overhead came through again and the building shuddered. Belinda wasted no time in asking the kid in the cowboy hat whether he wanted to see her bruises. Before he could even answer, she’d started to unbutton her dress. I’d seen it so many times before I retreated behind my eyelids. If she kept him busy for a long time somebody might be able to put on some different music. 
    When I opened my eyes again I could see Belinda and the cowboy entwined beside the stereo. Belinda appeared to be naked. The neon sign came on and con- firmed it. The kid still had his hat on. He was tracing the red weals on her back with his fingers. 
    ‘Why do you let him do it to you, honey?’
    Belinda laughed her little squeaky laugh. 
    ‘I don’t mind. I quite enjoy it really’. 
    The neon went off and I waited for the next episode. When it came back on again, the cowboy was licking his lips. 

    ‘Would you let me do it?’
    Belinda was outraged. 
    ‘Listen buster, I don’t hardly know you.’
    The neon went off again. In the darkness I could hear the kid in the cowboy hat trying to placate her. 
    ‘I’m sorry, sugar, I didn’t mean any harm.’
    Belinda forgave him and the neon came on. The cowboy grinned at her. 
    ‘Want to see my gun?’ I thought for a moment he was going to expose his Roy Rogers prick. It turned out that I was quite wrong. From the waistband of his jeans, he produced a mean black snubnosed revolver. The red light went off, and I imagined how the gun must have been nestling behind his rodeo buckle all evening.  It was fortunate that nobody had pressed the point about the country music. I eased myself back into the wall. It always makes me nervous when kiddies start to play with guns.  

    I couldn’t look at the kid in the cowboy hat. I just didn’t want to know what he was doing with the gun. I switched my attention to Alice. She was still staring at the candle, and there was no entertainment there. Even in the muted light there was nothing attractive about her plain, vacant little face. That left only Easy and Monk. They still squatted cross-legged like a pair of jittering Buddhist monks. They’d transferred from previous world-wreckers to their own dreams of power and grandeur. 
    ‘All we got to do is get it together. That’s all we got to do.’
    ‘Right. We’ve only got to get it together.’
    ‘We could be right there. Running things, doing it. Telling people what to do. You know what I mean?’
    They waved their hands at each other; fast jerks that cast shadows like darting bats or black birds each time the neon flashed through the windows. 
    ‘All we need to do is just get started. Once we get started, got a few people behind us, we could sweep across the world.’
    ‘A whole legion of us. Wave upon wave, driving everything in front of us.’
    ‘Just get it together.’
    ‘Right!’
    Every so often, the red light would catch their eyes. Demonic reflections would be thrown back. I was beginning to drift into their spiralling world. I caught myself wondering if it was me or them that was insane. I looked away. There was nothing else to stare at but the wall. All that did was go on and off. 
    Red Grey Red Grey Red Grey. 

    In the next red flash the door opened quietly and a guy I’d never seen before slipped in carrying a bottle. He looked around for someone to talk to. Easy and Monk were locked into their plans for world domination, Alice was still trans- fixed, while Belinda and the cowboy were pressing together on the floor. That left only me. He sat down.  
    ‘You seen Zorbo?’
    Who the hell was Zorbo?
    I looked him straight in the bottle and grinned. 
    ‘Sure, he left already.’
    The red to grey and back to red pause. I continued to smile at the bottle. I licked my lips and felt a bit like the kid in the cowboy hat. I wished I had a gun to show the dude. After a while, he got the point. 
    ‘Uh…maybe you’d like a drink.’
    I grabbed it. 
    ‘Sure would.’
    I took a generous swallow. It was cheap wine which tasted like it had been fortified with anti-freeze. I paused, took another hit and passed it back to him. 
    ‘Thanks.’
    There was a pause while the guy waited for me to offer him something in return. I decided not to be drawn and sat staring straight ahead, doing a passable imitation of Alice. The overhead came through again and shook the building. The guy jerked.
    ‘What the fuck was that?’
    ‘Overhead.’
    ‘Aah.’
    ‘Anytime.’
    He laughed.
    ‘I was wondering whether you, aah, wouldn’t maybe have a taste of something you could lay on me. I mean, do you?’
    For one charitable instant I thought about giving him one of my precious capsules, then I shook my head. 
    ‘It all went.’
    ‘Too bad.’
    ‘Sorry.’
    His wine hadn’t been that good, and besides I’d had it. After a decent pause he got up and slipped out of the door as quietly as he had come in. Or, at least, he tried to. On the way he was hit by Miss Rene with a sailor in tow, and was almost knocked off his feet. Rene flashed him a super nova smile. 
    ‘Sorry precious, I hardly saw you.’
    The little guy fled down the stairs and Miss Rene swept into the room. ‘Nothing going on in here. You almost look like you need dusting.’

    Rene was a strange creature. She had the face and figure of a starlet, but attached to her crotch was a miniaturised set of male genitals. Nobody was quite sure how she got that way. The opposing theories were that, on one hand, she was a freak of nature, while on the other she had once had a very expensive hormone job, but had run out of money before she could get the final piece of surgery. She was wearing a blue metallic sheath dress that flashed purple each time the red neon came on. I started to hallucinate watching her. Over her shoulders was a black leather Brando bike jacket, one of the double breasted kinds with lots of zips. Miss Rene had a strange talent for mixing her symbolism.
    The sailor started to paw at her. He was very drunk. She shrieked, and punched him in the face with a fistful of rings. 
    ‘Don’t touch the merchandise, Charlie!’
    He reeled away, and then stumbled round the room as though he was unsure of what had happened to him. A small trickle of blood ran down his chin from a cut on his lips. His vacant eyes fell on Alice. He sat down heavily beside her.      
    ‘Hey honey, you look cute.’
    Alice continued to stare unwaveringly at the candle. A little pool of wax was, beginning to form on the floor. The sailor leaned over and squeezed her breasts. 
    ‘Believe in free love, do you babe? I believe in free love.’
    Alice’s gaze didn’t waver. Miss Rene looked on in disgust. The sailor began to slobber over the front of Alice’s Donald Duck T-shirt. Rene flounced towards the door. 
    ‘Well fuck you Jack!’
   

    The door slammed behind her and her high heels clattered down the stairs. The sailor began to realise that maybe he wasn’t going to get as far as he’d imagined. Alice might look completely relaxed, but we all knew that when she got into that state she became as stiff as a board. He tried to push his hand down her jeans, but found that the way she was sitting made it quite impossible. He attempted to ease one of her legs out of the way, gently at first and then using both hands. He discovered that even when he applied leverage, Alice’s thighs just wouldn’t move. He rolled over on the mattress and shook his head at her hunched, bony back. 
    ‘You ought to see a doctor, honey.’
    She ignored him. He raised his voice to take in the whole room. 
    ‘This chick ought to see a doctor.’
    The whole room ignored him, He complained and muttered for a while, and then began to get interested in Monk and Easy. He listened for a while and then finally interrupted their flow. 
    ‘You fellas planning something?’
    Their heads flashed round, and they peered at him with speed-freak hostility.  
    ‘We’re taking over.’
    ‘Taking over what?’
    ‘The world, man. The whole fucking planet.’
    ‘Yeah?’
    ‘Yeah, all we got to do is get it together.’
    ‘Taking over the world seems like a pretty tall order.’
    Monk dismissed the sailor’s plebian viewpoint with a fast chop of his hand. 
    ‘No problem, once we got it together.’
    Easy nodded. 
    ‘We’d tell you about it only we don’t have time right now’.  
    The sailor grinned with a dawning, doglike devotion. 
    ‘Go ahead. You don’t mind if I listen, do you?’
    ‘Not if you don’t interrupt.’
    ‘I won’t say a word.’

    It seemed as though Easy and Monk had claimed their first disciple. They went back to plotting. The sailor sat on the mattress watching them, absorbing every word, his head turning from side to side like a spectator at a tennis match. Across the room there was a flurry of movement. The kid in the cowboy hat had taken time out from rubbing his pistol between Belinda’s legs for long enough to put on a Tammy Wynette album. It seemed like a signal to Monk and Easy. They both leaped to their feet. 
    ‘We got it!’
    ‘Yeah! We got the answer.’
    I rested my head against the wall. 
    ‘That’s wonderful.’
    ‘That’s the word, wonderful. We got the answer.’
    ‘You want to hear the answer?’
    I shrugged. 
    ‘Sure, why not?’
    ‘People.’
    ‘People?’
    ‘Right, people.’
    ’Yeah, people. We live off people.’
    I focussed on them. The red light was reflected in their eyes. They looked like a couple of vampires who’d just spied lunch. I took the time to argue. 
    ‘I thought we did that anyway.’
    We go the whole way.’
    ‘No half measures.’
    ‘We catch people.’
    I was confused. 
    ‘What do we do when we’ve caught them?’

    They looked at me like I was a backward child. I was at a disadvantage. They’d had thirty-six hours to build up to this. Easy spelled it out. 
    ‘We process them.’
    ‘Hunh?’
    ‘Some bits we eat. Some bits we get stoned on.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘There’s all these glands.’
    Monk picked it up. 
    ‘The adrenal gland, the lymph gland, the pineal gland, the pituitary. You got to be able to get high on some of those. Plus we eat the flesh and make ornaments out of the bones. We could even sell them. There’s no time to delay.’    
    I sat and boggled as they raced out of the room yelling. The sailor seemed disappointed that they hadn’t asked him to go with them. There was nothing to do but wait. The overhead came through and shook the buildings. Inside of fifteen minutes, they were back again. 
    ‘We need help.’
    I shook my head. 
    ‘I can’t move.’
    The sailor jumped to his feet and even the cowboy seemed anxious to help. They all trooped downstairs. A few minutes later they were back, struggling with a limp body. They dropped it on the floor. Belinda squeaked. Alice didn’t move. I looked at it. It wasn’t the best body I’d ever seen. Middle aged, unshaven, dirty, wearing a tattered Army coat, it looked like one of the bums they regularly tossed out of Dirty Edna’s. Easy and Monk stood over it triumphantly. I think they would have liked to have their photos taken. Foot on neck, like big game hunters. We’d hocked Alice’s Polaroid a long time earlier though, and it just wasn’t possible. 

     Easy looked round the room. 
    ‘What we need is a knife.’ The sailor, who seemed so taken with the game that he’d totally forgotten about Alice, pulled a large switchblade from out of his coat. He opened it with a snap. I shut my eyes as they went to work. I couldn’t take any more. I could picture the scene when the cops burst in. Then I thought about it. Who’d miss an old bum, it might be okay after all. Provided they didn’t go crazy. And who could tell, there might be some good stuff in those glands. The overhead came through and shook the building.