THUGLIT Issue Twelve by Leon Marks, Rob Hart, Justin Porter, Mike Miner, Edward Hagelstein, Kevin Garvey, T. Maxim Simmler, J.J. Sinisi

fear of just how fuc ked up this new generation was became symbolized by this single-syllable word, spoken by a man, a kid, who epitomized the contemporary and all that would get worse in the years to come. And while this realization should have shocked me, all it really did was make me wonder, for what seemed like the millionth time, how the hell did I let myself wind up in the back of this van in the first place?
    Connie rejoined us with a small key latched to a very large diamond-shaped piece of plastic clutched in his hand. He clambered back up into the van, using the door handle to help finish his ascent before again using the wheel as an anchor so his short arm could reach the open door and close it with a firm thud.
    " Room 613. Round back as requested," he said. Connie's voice did his stature no favors.
    " 613, that's some evil shit," Tate said, still smiling at the fog.
    " Shut up, Tate. Franny, you okay back there?"
    " Yeah I'm fine," I answered.
    " It won't be long now."
    " Not long at all."
    " Franny says it was seven people."
    " What?" Connie asked while he straightened the van from its reverse pullout. He turned the wheel to guide it to the back of the motel.
    " The murderer guy. Killed seven people here."
    " That's wonderful Tate. Truly, that's wonderful. Now shut the fuck up so I can concentrate."
    The horseshoe- shaped motel complex had rooms throughout its façade, ending in three rooms on the outer half that faced a meager grouping of stunted trees and, knowing Kansas, a vast cornfield just on the other side. Tate and I pulled the three duffel bags from the well in the back of the van and brought them into the room, placing them on the bed. Connie waited outside while we unloaded, busy spying the other two doors and the windows beside each. Once satisfied that the occupants had their own reasons for requesting a back room—or more likely, no one was even boarding in them—he reached into the passenger's seat and took the shotgun and shells. The shotgun he placed against the leg of the small desk beside the old TV, the shells he put in the drawer.
    A short while later, we were set up and had nothing to do. Connie and Tate played cards at the desk. I poured myself a tumbler of bad scotch I had hidden away in the van , but realized there was no refrigerator or ice in the room. I headed to the front door.
    " Where the hell you think you're going?" Connie asked not bothering to glance up from his game.
    I held up the glass though he wasn 't looking.  "Ice."
    " Don't wander too far. You know the pigs. They tend to be more than punctual."
    I waved my glass towards him and walked out. The fog still hadn 't lifted. I strolled around the horseshoe and watched the parked cars wait for me to approach before materializing. The door to the ice room had long since rusted off at its hinges. I entered ducking because of the step at the entrance. Opposite the ancient icebox was an even older coin-operated washer and dryer set. Though I would have bet neither had been used in twenty years, the dryer rocked and hummed, balancing on unsteady legs. I lifted the flap on the ice machine and stared, for not a short amount of time, at the congealed block of rusty frozen water deteriorating in its depths. Disgusted, I slammed the ice door closed and walked out.
    She appeared from the haze then; and though tension from my poor decisions coursed hot through my veins and clouded my eyes with crimson anger, she immediately drained away all that red and poured vibrant blonde in its place, spinning the world in luscious gold.
    "Hey," she said, meeting my eyes with a crooked grin.
    " Hello," I topped my glass at her.
    " That scotch?"
    " Not good scotch, but yes, scotch."
    " Warm scotch I bet."
    " You've seen our ice machine."
    " Yup. I told the front desk about it and he laughed at me."
    " Surprising for such an esteemed establishment."
    She smiled and the rigid straightness of her teeth made her look even more perfect with her mouth open