Free Midnight in Berlin by JL Merrow Page A

talk outside?”
    Jon’s eyes shifted, resting on Silke awhile before turning back to me. “Hey, I’d like to help you out, but you know I can’t leave the bar.”
    I had to swallow a mouthful of saliva before I could talk to him again. “Okay. Here’s the edited highlights: I’m in shit, and I need money. And a place to stay, but I figure you’re still at the hostel, right?”
    “What kind of shit?” Jon glanced at Silke again, but she kept on eyeballing the floor. Maybe she was itching to clean it or something. “And hey, no offence, but since when did you start hanging around with girls?”
    “Silke’s just a, uh— Damn it, Jon, are you going to help us out or not?”
    A couple more customers walked in the door, making straight for the bar. The guy was kind of lean, but the woman looked good enough to eat… Damn. I needed to get out of there. “Jon, is Timmi out back? Yeah? Just yell at him to cover for you, and get outside, okay? I’ll be waiting.”
    I didn’t wait for an answer. I figured if I gave him any more time, he’d come up with an excuse. I just grabbed Silke by the hand and dragged her outside. We stood there, blinking in the sun for about a century until Jon came out, his jacket slung over his shoulder. “I’ve got five minutes, and that’s all. So you’d better talk fast.”
    “Okay, here’s the short version.” I talked fast, but I thought even faster. “I got mixed up in some serious shit—safer if you don’t know what sort, believe me. Now these guys are after me. I need money for gas and food until I can get far enough away from here to stop running.”
    “What about your, uh, friend?” Jon gestured at Silke.
    Damn it, would he ever let that go? “Silke’s in trouble too. With the same guys. Now can you help me or not?”
    “Silke?” He pronounced it “silky” and smiled at her. “Cool name.” His scent altered subtly.
    Silke huddled closer to me, and Jon’s face fell. Then it darkened, and he took a step forward. “What happened to her?” he demanded like I’d been personally responsible.
    Way to get your priorities screwed. “Nothing compared to what’s going to happen if we don’t get out of here, okay? So are you going to help us or not?”
    Jon gave Silke another sad, angry look, then shook himself. “I can give you, uh…” He rummaged in his pants pockets, bringing out a crumpled twenty euro note and a handful of change. “Sorry, dude, but that’s all I got.” He held it out toward me.
    I stared at him in disbelief. “Twenty euros? Just how far do you think that’s going to get us?” We’d come all this way, dragged him out of the bar, for twenty fucking euros? What the hell were we going to do now? I hadn’t realized just how much I’d been relying on Jon being able to bail us out of this mess. I snatched the money anyhow, seeing as it was twenty euros more than I’d had before.
    Jon gave a sort of apologetic shrug. “Hey, it’ll buy a meal for the two of you.” His eyes narrowed as he gave Silke a look that said she’d damn well better be the one getting extra fries before the money ran out.
    “There’s three of us,” I corrected him moodily. But on the plus side, one of us would be putting the other two seriously off their food. “And we need gas too.”
    Jon chewed his bottom lip, frowning like he was constipated or something. “Look, I’ll tell you what. If you can hole up for a couple of days, I’ll ring my dad and get him to send me some cash, okay?”
    I could have kissed him, but I guessed that would have weirded all three of us out, not to mention any passersby. Then I realized the flaw in the plan, and my spirits rode the crest of that roller coaster and plunged back into the depths. “Hole up where? They know about the hostel—I can’t go there.” Hell, maybe it wasn’t even safe for Jon to go back there. “It’s those guys you saw me with—but there’s more of them, and they’re trouble with a capital S, H,