Free Point Apocalypse by Alex Bobl Page A

Wong took the steps to the next floor, bent over the rails and nodded. Wladas in the hallway shifted his feet, nervous. He had no weapon: the Chinese upstairs had both guns, one across his back and the other training everywhere. I had the spare handgun. I pushed the door and walked in.
    I had no idea why I did so. It must have been a knee-jerk reaction. There was a lamplit desk by the back wall; to its right, rows of shelves housed large clay pitchers, their mouths tied with pieces of clean muslin and sealed with seal-wax. Had to be the establishment's stock of liquor. On top of the shelves stood figurines made of stone, wood and even glass.
    A ladder leaned against the shelves. On it stood a tall woman in a floor-length dress : her black hair in a bun, her face in the shadows.
    "What do you want?" she said in a low voice hoarse with agitation. "I've paid up already. McLean promised me that-"
    She reached for a fat figurine which looked much like a piggy bank and turned to the light. "I thought we'd discussed everything. He did promise that-" She froze, breathless. Her large dark eyes glinted with fear on a broad face.
    I closed the door behind me, walked to the desk and looked around. To my left was a bare wall. A derelict strong box stood behind the door opposite a wooden cabinet. Next to it, window curtains were open a crack.
    I walked around the desk to the window and looked out. The Studebaker stood at arm's reach. She must have seen it and mistaken us for McLean's raiders. So now she went up the ladder to get her piggy bank...
    The woman stood on the ladder, figurine in hand, staring at me without blinking.
    "I need a room for three," I said in a low voice. "For one night."
    I took out the fiver and dropped it onto the desk. The woman's face relaxed. She looked away, blinking, and very nearly fell down the ladder. I caught her, one arm under hers and the other round her waist, and helped her to her feet.
    She recoiled, then pulled herself up. Clenching the figurine she squeezed herself between me and the desk, rearranging the front of her dress. She sat up onto a stool and raised an already businesslike face.
    She had to be just over forty. Puffy eyelids, crowfeet, her eyes tired and disillusioned. It was as if she wanted to get rid of me but couldn't, so she put on a stern face waiting for me to speak.
    "So what about that room?" I said.
    She studied me, her hands on the desk.
    " And?" I was losing patience. I was hungry and sleepy, in reverse order. "I can take my custom elsewhere!"
    A thought struck me. This woman didn't have to be the owner. She was no Rita.
    "A ruble per head," she finally said. "Dinner in the room?"
    I nodded. She opened a drawer and brushed the coin into it in a practiced motion.
    "Dinner is two rubles," she handed me a room key with a white ball on the key ring.
    The white ball - which had to symbolize a pearl - bore a large number 3 and felt like a piece of plastic.
    "Go up to the top floor. Ask-" she shook her head and glanced in the window. "No. I'll take you there."
    She took the key and rose from the desk. I stepped aside letting her pass. Once she turned her back to me, I said,
    " Rita."
    "Yes?" she turned cocking a brow.
    "Let's go, then," I stepped aside and opened the door for her.
    She paused, then walked out into the hallway. She glanced at the Chinese bristling with guns, acknowledged Wladas' tired smile with a nod and walked upstairs.
    On the top floor, a narrow hallway led to both sides from the stairs. The weak odor of beeswax and herbs hung in the air. Some sort of fluffy mat covered the floor dampening our footsteps. The woman turned right and walked past the row of doors to a dimly-lit counter at the back.
    "Claudie ," she called out as she walked. "You can't be sleeping, surely? How many times do I need to tell you..."
    A cute sleepy face showed from behind the counter. A girl jumped up, her expression clouding with fear, and started mumbling apologies.
    "How on e arth can you