2084 The End of Days by Derek Beaugarde Page B

The cash and the drinks were flowing. They had started with a bar meal of Buffalo wings and burgers washed down with jugs of Bud in Georgetown. Then they all jumped into three yellow electri-cabs and headed back to hit a couple of clubs on the edge of Foggy Bottom, where the eleven guys all started knocking back shots dropped in Jack Daniels and Coke. To finish the night they all staggered on to one of the Potomac’s water-taxis and sailed leisurely down to get into one of the exclusive clubs in upmarket Alexandria. As they floated past the infamous Watergate building, Jack’s eyes were swimming as he looked on to the swirling Potomac, inky black in the darkness and interspersed with dancing eels of light.
    “Man, great idea, Vance. I so needed a blow-out like tonight.”
    Vance was actually avoiding looking at the swirling river. The dancing eels of light were making him nauseous.
    “Jeez, Jack, ah’m to-tally wrecked, Big Bro’. Ah think ah go back to Inn- Con-nen-nen-al-“
    “Vance, you’re as drunk as a monkey, man. How d’ya end up like that?”
    When the boat arrived at the pier at Alexandria, most of the guys realised that enough was enough and that they had drunk their fill. They argued for heading back to the InterContinental and finishing the evening with a night-cap. Jack was certainly not finished with his night out.
    “Aw, come on guys. This is the first big night out ah’ve had since ma daughter was born. Who’s up for paintin’ Alexandria red?”
    It certainly would not be Vance. He was already being held up between two of his buddies. The heads were all beginning to shake except one, Dan Kowalski.
    “I’m still game if you are, Jack.”
    “That’s ma boy, Dan the Man!”
    The pair ended up drinking in The Fish Market, Alexandria’s most exclusive night club, which catered for guests who liked their R & B music, mainly from the late-20 th century and expertly mixed by the world-famous techno-jock DJ Steeley from “Steel-town” Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Jack spotted her drinking alone at the other end of the bar. She looked mesmerisingly stunning, but Jack reminded himself that most women began to look stunning after the amount of alcohol that he had consumed. She spotted him and smiled, subconsciously signalling to him by gently rocking her glass on the bar to signify that her drink was requiring replenishment. Jack turned to Dan. He was already chatting up a very pretty black girl in a stunning and clinging red dress who worked up at the Pentagon. Jack indicated with a nod of his head towards the other girl at the end of the bar, who was in an equally slinky little black number.
    “Dan, you okay here? Ah has a friend down there lookin’ mighty thirsty.“
    “Ah’m doin’ great, Jacky boy. I’ll see ya at breakfast in the mornin’. Good huntin’!”
    Jack never made it back to the InterContinental that evening. Instead he woke up in a strange bed in a small apartment across the river in Anacostia, his head bursting with the worst hangover ever. She walked into the bedroom wearing only a very short skimpy Japanese silk dressing gown and carrying a tray arranged with a light breakfast of grits, eggs over easy, biscuits, grape jelly, orange juice and coffee.
    “Morning, Jack.”
    Jack rubbed his forehead and glanced at her through his fingers. She was still beautiful, even in this semi-sober state, he thought. She had long dark auburn hair and legs up to her armpits. Just the way I like them, Jack thought.
    “Hi, eh, have we been introduced, ma’am?”
    “Many times, Jack. Why you were introducing yourself to me all night long.”
    “Oh, God, that’s what I feared. Look – ah – look - ah don’t even know your name.”
    “Ah’m Peggy Sue Milner from Birmingham, Alabama - at yore service, sir.”
    “Look – ah – Peggy Sue. Ah don’t think you’re gonna be surprised to hear that ah am a married man.”
    “Don’t worry, you told me that last night before we even made