The Last Network - Chapter 65
Lines
Saturday morning at the Grove. A matinee movie, a sesame bagel, and a large coffee. It was one of Rabbit’s favorite things to do in this town. He’d been coming once a month since he first arrived decades ago. While so much had come and gone, this little tradition was still there for him.
He hadn’t made up his mind yet, either Gaston! A Hunter’s Tale or Son of Shrek, but it didn’t really matter. If he didn’t like one, he’d just walk into the other. That was the nice part about this time of day. Things were quiet. You could park on the second floor of the garage and you didn’t need to fight through a million idiots. No strollers, no shopping bags, no yappy little dogs.
Beating the inconveniences kept him in love with Los Angeles.
The movie started ten minutes ago, which meant it would be another fifteen before they wrapped the commercials and trailers. Rabbit sat on a bench eating his bagel. Better to get that done first. He’d ruined several shirts eating runny cream cheese in darkened theaters.
He was about to take a bite when he felt a rap on the back of his head. Not a tap, not a slap, but a swift enough whack that it got his attention real fast. He looked up and saw Frank standing there red-faced, veins throbbing, finger poking him in the chest hard.
This fucking guy. He wasn’t supposed to be here now. Who gets thrown out of the house and then comes to the mall first thing on a Saturday?
“Whoa back off,” Rabbit said.
“I know what you fucking did, Rabbit.”
There it was, another finger in his chest. Rabbit jerked and spit out his coffee, splattering it on Frank’s khaki pants.
“Back off Frank. I’m trying to eat here.”
“I know it was fucking you.”
“Me what?”
“You sent that video to Alice.”
“What video?”
“The video.”
“Again, what video?”
“The one of me cheating on her.”
“Ok. Here we go again. You blame me for something you did.”
“I know it was fucking you.”
“No, it was you fucking someone Frank. Don’t look at me. I’m down in Mexico because your masters took my people. Not my problem that you hopped on the first piece that batted her eyes at you. What happened, you didn’t pay her afterwards?”
And there was the finger in his chest again. This time Rabbit squeezed his coffee so the lid popped off and spilled all over Frank’s leg. Frank jumped back, and Rabbit started to stand.
“I asked you to stop touching me.”
Before Rabbit could straighten out, he felt the big right hook come crashing down on the side of his head. He heard a sickly noise, finger bones breaking as they slammed into skull. He felt his left ear catch on fire, prickling with a million tingling embers, then a brief second of stillness before the ringing started. Rabbit fell to the ground. A moment later the broadside of a shoe caught his ribs. That wasn’t too bad, Rabbit thought.
Frank changed his stance and connected, tip wedging between bones, driving inside his chest cavity.
Fuck. That hurt. It hurt badly.
It was the first of many.
Rabbit started to hyperventilate. Wheezing and gasping as kick after kick connected against the side of his chest. This wasn’t the beating he’d imagined taking.
It stopped after a minute. He looked up through blurred eyes as strangers pulled Frank back. He tried to stand, get the last word in, but pain stabbed him. He coughed out a sickly red tinged mucus, then curled into the fetal position. He didn’t think Frank had that much rage in him.
Moments went by. Security pulled Frank away. Rabbit began to laugh wickedly. His broken ribs stung like motherfuckers, but he couldn’t stop himself. So many people, so many fucking cameras here, such a one-sided fight. This was the end of Frank. When this was all said and done, Rabbit would own him. He was finished.
Time to move up the tree and knock those fucks at Thorn off their perch.
First, he needed an ambulance.