Shadow Memories: A Novel (The Singularity Conspiracy Book 1) by Nicholas Erik Page A

He eyed me up, like he was trying to determine my character. “You got a reference?”
    “I just heard…”
    Whatever opening was there closed up, his features going cold. “I don’t know what you heard,” he said, “but I deal in pussy. That’s it. And I think it’s time for you to leave.” He got up, and although he didn’t even reach my breastbone, I took a few steps backwards.
    “They’ll kill us,” I said, “they’ll kill me, and they’ll kill Cassie. And I can deal with me, but—”
    “What’d you just say?”
    I wiped my eyes. I think I was almost crying. “I said that they’ll kill me.”
    “I could give a fuck about you. Who’s this Cassie?” His eyes sparkled with curiosity.
    “Cassie Atwood.”
    He let out a low whistle, and now a real grin—dusty as all hell, having been in the attic for years—came across his face. He stepped out from the desk and walked over. I tensed up, unsure if he was going to crush my balls or hug me.
    He did neither. Just gave me a real handshake. “Damn, why didn’t you say so? What’s your name?”
    “Desmond. Uh, Kurt Desmond.”
    “Hot damn, so you’re him,” he said, his eyes losing a tiny bit of luster, “not much to look at. I think she could’ve done better. You’re a bit of a vagina, to be honest, kid.”
    “Thanks?”
    “Just my point. You’re thanking me when you should be threatening to kick my teeth in.”
    “Well, your protection—”
    “Whatever, whatever. You seem like a decent sort. But Cassie Atwood, that girl. How’s she doing? You said she was in trouble?” He looked at me, as if willing me to speak. “Let’s hear it, Desmond. Say your bit.” He sat back down and propped his well-shined leather shoes up on the oak desk.
    “I don’t know the full details,” I said, “but this guy promised us forty grand to do a job. Find an old cave.” I could see his face twinge, but Barston didn’t interject. “And when we found it—when she found it, Otto, that’s the client’s name, he had the jump on us. Was going to kill us, but then…well, some other shit happened. But he still wants us in the ground.”
    “Say no more, say no more,” Barston said, hopping up from the desk. “I know enough about that crazy shit her old man was into, and I don’t need to know no more. Bad for my health, bad for my mind, bad for business.”
    “Her old man?”
    “Yeah, Shadow was part of some secret ancient group or some bullshit.”
    “How’d you know him?”
    “Boy,” he said, “how do you think I know anyone?”
    Pussy. Of course.
    I nodded, and he came over, arm extended. “Money.”
    “Yeah,” I said, and took an envelope out from my pocket. “Here it is.”
    He peeked inside and tossed it in a random drawer, like it was the change from his fast food order.
    “Okay,” he said, “what do you need?”
    “What do you have?”
    A glint crept into his eyes.
    “Allow me to give you the full tour.”

28
    Odds
    A trip to the basement and two or three false doors later, and I was standing in what could best be described as an armory. Or, the biggest damn illicit gun emporium I’d ever run eyes across.
    Not that I’d seen one before, so it was the winner by default. But still, the point stood: this place was impressive.
    Floor-to-ceiling assault rifles, handguns and other assorted firearms stood on wire racks—and that was just the least interesting wall. On the other three stood the more colorful variants: grenades of all shapes, explosives, rocket launchers and some stuff that I couldn’t even identify.
    “Nice collection,” I said after surveying the goods, trying to pretend like I knew what I was looking at, “how much for one of those?”
    I had my arm outstretched towards a rack of shotguns. Pump action. I knew that, from all the times my old man had told me why he slept with it on his chest.
    Real reliable gal , he would say, putting in the fire engine red shells one by one, blow a man clean away .
    That about