The Black Death by Aric Davis

breath and told them what had to happen.
    “Free, you’re going to drive us to Bucky’s, and we’re going to put an end to this crap.”
    “I can’t take you there, man. It’s suicide.”
    “Besides,” said Flo, “we can’t leave Frank here alone.”
    “You’re driving us there, Free,” ordered Matt. “And Frank will be fine as long as we go end this. He’s locked in, and he has his gun. I don’t know Frank, but I do know that if one of us were taking a snooze in there, he’d still be up for catching the bad guys, or doing whatever else it was that needed doing. Since he can’t do that right now, we’re going to do it for him. Flo, what do you have in the way of weaponry?”
    “We have another shotgun, the one that would normally be in Frank’s car.”
    “Will you get it, and all the shells you can carry?”
    “Sure thing,” she said, before standing and walking to Frank’s office. Matt turned to Free. “You’re going to drive?”
    “I will,” said Free, sighing, “but I don’t like it.”
    “You don’t have to like it,” Matt said, locking eyes with Free and probing him for some sense of imminent betrayal. “But you do have to drive us there, and then you need to help me get rid of Bucky, end all this meth garbage. You know what Danimal told me? He never smoked black flake. But you did. I can see it on you. I can smell it. Are you going to be able to let it go?”
    “I can drive you there,” said Free. “I’ll even help you dust Bucky, if it comes to that, but that other thing, no guarantees. I’ve been smoking speed since I was a kid, and that is the best damn speed I’ve ever had. Some other cook is going to pop up with this same recipe, and you’re crazy if you think I won’t belly up to the counter to partake when the notion strikes me.”
    “That’s not what I meant, Free. When we stop Bucky and whoever he’s working with, there will never be any more black flake ever again. I need you to help me do that.”
    “Man, you believe way too much in this idea of yours. Trust me, if black flake came along once, it will be back. I’m with you, though. I know that’s what you want to hear. Besides,”Free said, grinning, “we’re all going to wind up dead up there. Bucky don’t like people coming by unannounced, and if you think it’ll go any different for us, you’re crazy.”
    Flo came back to the desk barricade holding her own pistol-gripped shotgun and another with a black stock, along with a canvas sack full of twelve-gauge rounds. She handed the gun with the stock to Matt, and in turn, he gave it to Free.
    “Your AR is empty,” Matt said by way of explanation and then turned to Flo. “Besides,” he said, pulling the ax free from his duffel, “I’ll be just fine with this.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    They were silent as Free drove. Matt figured they all had a lot to think about. His mind was stuck on thoughts of Mr. Dark. Even though he’d yet to actually see his adversary, Matt could all but feel him whenever he saw the black flake or someone under its influence.
    But maybe what he was sensing was the presence of straightforward evil. Matt had learned that people could be evil bastards without being touched by Mr. Dark. Most of them just came by it naturally.
    What was more troubling to Matt was the possibility that Bucky had managed to make a drug that could spread evil more broadly than even Mr. Dark’s touch could.
    Then again, maybe it was Mr. Dark who gave Bucky the formula to start with.
    Either way, Mr. Dark had every reason to want Bucky to succeed and probably had had his hand in the massacre that had broken out at the whorehouse. The evil seemed to spread among the crowd a lot faster than could be accounted for by the drug.
    Matt stared out the windshield. He didn’t have the answers, but he didn’t need them. The drug had to be stopped.
    Flo was almost certainly thinking about Frank, lying in his own jail, locked up like a common criminal, and with a head