Coffin Dodgers Read Free Page B

finger-quote thing. I never said she was perfect -- "and that when it does, he's going to come back here and sweep me off my feet."
    "In those exact words?"
    "Don't be silly. You know what he's like." I do indeed. "He stood up and did a couple of pelvic thrusts."
    "Ugh."
    "I know! Then he fell over."
    I try to stifle a laugh. I don't succeed. Amy tries not to laugh at me laughing. She doesn't succeed either.

    The rest of the shift was uneventful. Work was steady but not too little or too much, tips were okay but not spectacular, Amy was only goosed once and Dave only had to eject one person. It was hardly a test of his physical prowess. The culprit had sparked up a cigarette at one of the roulette tables. The host asked him to put it out for the sake of the other players' health, and the man embarked on a big rant about smoking Nazis that was only interrupted by a coughing fit so epic that he nearly lost a lung. By the time Dave got to the table he was slumped on a chair, wheezing. "I felt sorry for him," Dave told us. "I think he was just trying to get some attention."
    He isn't the only one. After we've clocked out and started to walk home, Amy is all serious again. "Guys, the Yellow Man is really starting to freak me out," she says.  
    "More pelvic thrusts?" I ask.
    "No, creepier than that. He was talking about how his ship was coming in again. He's got a date. It's going to happen this week."
    "Ship?" Dave looks puzzled.
    "The Yellow Man's been telling Amy that his ship is going to come in, and he's going to sweep her off her feet when it does," I explain.
    "In those exact words?"
    "Of course not." I mime a pelvic thrust. Dave cackles until Amy shoots him a look.
    "I mean it. There's something really weird about it."
    We nod and change the subject.

    We see the flashing lights long before we reach the roadblock. The police have shut off the street with sawhorses and tape, and the area behind the blockade is lit by the blue lights of three patrol cars. Behind the patrol cars are two fire engines, an ambulance and a medical examiner's truck. A uniformed policeman calls to us from behind the sawhorses.
    "You'll need to take a detour, guys."
    "What happened?"
    "Car accident."
    We look beyond the patrol cars and see the crumpled remains of what might well have been a car. It looks as if it picked a fight with an office block, and the office block won.
    "Bad one?" Dave asks.
    The cop doesn't answer, but he doesn't need to. The look on his face is answer enough.
    Amy shivers.  
    We don't really talk much after that.

CHAPTER THREE

    It's just after nine p.m., and Dave and I are crouched down behind an SUV in the Majestic car park. Way back when, the Majestic was a movie theatre, the place where teens would go on a Friday night. The projectors and the popcorn are long gone; now, it's a bingo hall that's closed through the week and packed senseless at weekends. Amy says it's a special building, a great example of Art Deco, whatever that is. It's a nice looking place, though.
    "Are you sure about this?" Dave asks.
    "We've talked about this a million times," I say. "We'll be miles away before they get to their cars."
    "I feel like I'm eight."
    We're both wearing big overcoats. They're not exactly stylish and they don't exactly fit, so we do look a bit like little children fooling around with a dressing-up box. But we didn't choose them for their style. We spent the best part of an afternoon going through charity shops until we found the coats with the biggest pockets -- pockets that, right now, are filled with evil-looking vials of green liquid. I ordered them from an obscure website about six months ago. Planning is important.
    "Ready?"
    "Ready."
    We walk into the Majestic and wait until the bored-looking attendant takes our money and hands over a pair of tickets. I give one of them to Dave as we walk away from the ticket booth. "I'll take the left," I tell him. "You take the right. And we do it on three."
    Dave smirks and