Free Mike Reuther - Return to Dead City by Mike Reuther Page B

an intruder in my home.”
    “A home? Is that what you call this place. I could have sworn I was in a flea market.”
    “Who is it Giles?” It was a woman’s voice from the stairway area.
    “I don’t know Jeannette. A burglar perhaps. Get on the phone and summon the police.” I heard her footsteps move away upstairs.
    “You’re wasting your time with the cops.”
    “You’re wasting my time sir.” He moved toward me a couple of steps. “Get your hands up.”
    I slowly brought them up but not without allowing myself a wise-guy grin.
    “Now,” he added, pointing to the couch with the gun. “Sit down.”
    He moved out of the hallway and into the living room still holding the gun on me. I decided to comply with the guy. Sort of anyway. Instead of taking a seat on the couch as he’d demanded, I reclined on the damn thing as if I was settling in for a ball game and a snooze. It was obvious now he didn’t know quite what to do with me next. I decided to turn up the juice a bit.               “Mind if I smoke?” I said, reaching into my pants pocket.
    “Keep those hands where I can see them,” he screamed, fumbling with the gun.
    “Don’t get nervous Pop. I just wanted …”
    “Never mind that. If you wish to smoke. I’ll have Jeannette bring you one of my cigars.”
    “Phew. Forget that noise. Cigars give me diarrhea.”
    That nearly caused him to smile. “Oh really.”
    “Yeah. That smoke gets in my bowels. It’s like someone blowing steam up my ass.”
    “How perfectly revolting.”
    He seemed to grow a little easier then. Relaxing his grip on the gun, he carefully set himself down into a nearby chair where he sat studying me.
    “So now what,” I said. “We smoke a peace pipe and become blood brothers?”
    “Hardly. You’re still an intruder here.”
    “Would it ease your bladder any if I told you I was an Amway salesman?”
    He shook his head and frowned.
    “So what’s all this,” I said, looking around the room, “a setting for the Ladies Tuesday Morning Book Club?”
    “Hardly. Books are my livelihood. I’m chair of the Department of Literature at Ocyl College.”
    “A high calling I’m sure.”
    “It’s certainly above that of a cheap, petty burglar,” he sneered.
    “Heh. Heh. I guess it wouldn’t make your day to know that I was a detective.”
    The remark caused him to stare blankly at me.
    “Giles?” It was the woman again.
    “Yes. Jeannette.”
    “The storm must have knocked the lines down. I can’t get through.”
    I thought for sure he’d faint. For a moment he stared hard at the floor.
    “Heh. Heh. So now what do you do Pop?”
    “Stop calling me that,” he snapped.
    “Sure Pop. But with the police not coming you better think of what you’ll do with me.”
    “L-l-look…Your still my prisoner.” Once again, he had both hands wrapped tightly about the gun and trained on me. Only now he was on the very edge of his seat and appearing not too steady.
    “Prisoner. Whew. You mean like kinky bondage. You and me and the little lady upstairs.”
    He shot out of his seat. “That will be quite enough sir.”
    That did it. I got up too and moved slowly toward him. The barrel of the gun began to droop. He still had both hands around the weapon but with each step the barrel lowered more. About five feet away from him I stuck out my hand. “C’mon Pop. Be a nice boy and give me the piece.”
    The barrel suddenly came up at me. “I’ll shoot you. Oh yes I will.”
    With an open hand I knocked the gun across the room. He started to lunge for it, but by that time I had a healthy grip on the front of his bathrobe. I backed him up and bounced him down in the chair. He didn’t like that at all and attempted to rush me, but I knocked him back down into the chair again and fed him the back of my hand.
    The gun rested on the hardwood floor behind him near the hallway, but he didn’t have it in him to go after it. He was slumped in the chair covering his face