Chapter 15
“You should have seen the look on her face!” Christian said as he got back in the car, wrapped in his long, black coat. “She didn’t know what to do!” He pulled the seat-belt across him and buckled it. “When I walked in, I thought she was going to scream. I can’t wait until my Mom has to bring stuff in!” He paused and looked somber for a moment, but smiled again.
“We finally ready to go?” Shannon asked, picking up the stack of CD’s that was on the front seat and flipping through them. She smiled at a Total Chaos disc and put it in the CD player.
Clark leaned over the front seat. “Are we going to stop for food somewhere?”
“Let’s wait a little while,” Andy said. “Let’s get on the road first.”
Christian nodded. “I want to just get on the road.” He slid the car into reverse and it shuddered over the change of gears. He turned around and backed out of the parking lot into the road. In response to being cut-off, a well-groomed man in a suit yelled mutely from the confines of his black sports car. Christian flashed him his middle finger, and finished pulling into the road. “We’ll stop around five,” he said. “That will put us a little more than half way there. We should still get to the club early.” Christian drove through town and got on the highway heading east. He set the cruise control to seventy-five, keeping in the left lane. The slower traffic flew past them, disappearing in the distance behind them.
Once they got on the open road, Clark said, “We’re going to be waiting outside for a while.” He pulled his ticket out of his wallet and held it up for them. “The tickets say the doors open at seven. That means they’ll open around eight.” He pulled a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket and lit it with his Zippo.
“I don’t care,” Christian said. “As long as we’re there in time. I would have left this morning if I could.”
“He called me three days ago,” Andy said. “He asked if I wanted to leave around nine this morning.” He shook his head. “I told him I wouldn’t go if he left that early.”
Christian chuckled. “If I had any inclination that you two would have gone along with it, I would have left him behind.”
Shannon shook her head. “There’s no way I’m sitting on the steps of some club all day, especially when we already have tickets.”
“We wouldn’t have just sat there,” Christian defended. “We could have seen the city, explored and stuff. I’m sure there’s some great record stores there.”
“I have the same feelings about wandering around a strange city,” she responded.
“Well,” Christian retorted, sounding defeated. “We don’t need to discuss it, because Andy convinced me not to.”
“Thank God,” Clark sighed. He laughed. “It’s Albany, Chris, there isn’t much to see, unless you’re really into state capitals. You’re a psycho, you know that, don’t you, Chris?”
“Yup,” Christian answered. “I know damn well.” He pointed down at the CD player and said, “I don’t want to hear that right now. I think we need to put in something to get us in the mood. Put on one of the Misfits discs.”
“Is that safe?” Clark asked. “I read somewhere that you aren’t supposed to listen to a band the day you go see them. You know, the show-curse?”
“It’s fine,” Christian said. “Because I’m going to see this band no matter what it takes.” He punched the steering wheel playfully. “If I have to kill cops, we’re going to see the Misfits. If I have to personally pick them up because their bus broke down, we’re going to see the Misfits. If I have to kidnap them because my car broke down, and we missed the show, we will see the Misfits.”
Clark shrugged. “As long as you tell everyone that we’re victims of your madness.”
“Oh, of course,” Christian said.
Shannon took out the Total Chaos and replaced it with the Misfits. “They’d better play all these songs,” She said, looking at the back of the CD. She beat on the dashboard along with the drums and sang along. “This is going to be the best show ever.”
“Better than the time the P.C. girls got offended and tried to riot?” Andy asked.
“Way better,” she responded with an emphatic nod. “That was pretty good though. I’ve never laughed harder in my entire life! It’s like, have a sense of humor, you know? It’s not like that band even supported going out and clubbing seals!”
“Yeah,” Clark said. “I was talking to the band after the whole thing happened, and they were telling me that if those kids had taken the time to listen to the words, they would have seen that it’s a song against cruelty to animals. It sucks that some people in the scene have to be such purists, that they have to pick a fight with people on their side.”
“Whatever happened to this scene being open-minded?” Shannon asked. “Some of the kids around here are even worse than the bigots they fight against.”
“Shit,” Christian exclaimed, looking down at the control panel.
“What?” Clark asked.
“What the fuck?!” Christian cried. “I filled up the tank this morning!” He tapped the glass in front of the gauge. “This has got to be wrong, this has got to be broken!” He continued to tap for a couple seconds and let out a desperate sigh. “Someone must have drained the fucking tank!” He punched the steering wheel hard enough to beep the horn. “It must have been Jim! I bet he drained it when he was at my car!”
“How much gas do we have?” Shannon asked, straining to see the gauge from her angle.
“Not much,” Christian replied. “I hope we have enough to make it to the next exit.” He shook his head. “God damn it! Why do they have to try and ruin everything? Why can’t they ever just let me be! They can’t just let me have one day! Fuckers! They fucking deserve it!”
Shannon looked over at him nervously. “Chris, don’t worry about it, we’ll be fine.” She pointed to a green sign on the side of the highway. “We can stop here in this little town, there’s a gas station there.”
“I’m going to get them,” Christian grumbled. “I’m fucking going to show them.”
“Don’t get yourself beat up again,” Andy said, putting his hand on Christian’s shoulder. “It’s not worth it to go after him and his friends. You’re just going to get yourself hurt.”
“No,” Christian said. “I’m going to get them back.” He pulled off the highway and followed the signs for the gas station. Everyone in the car was silent, watching the gas gauge. “Where the fuck is it?” Christian grumbled as they passed out of a little town and into an empty stretch of road. “Is it even fucking here?”
A few minutes later, they entered another town and came to a garage with pumps that shared a parking lot with a Burger King. Christian pulled the car into the lot and drove up to one of the pumps. Everyone released a collective sigh as he turned the car off. Christian dropped his head to the steering wheel for a second and then threw his head back, smacking his devilock against the roof of the car. “I really thought we were fucked,” he said. “I really thought we weren’t going to make it to the show.”
Clark sighed again. “Well, we are going to. I want no more negative thinking.” He pointed at the Burger King. “And look at that, we can stop there for food!”
Christian looked back at him and smiled.
As he was getting out of the car, a fat attendant was shuffling out of the building. He started to ask, “You want full...” He stopped dead as Christian turned to face him, and his jaw dropped open. When Christian smiled and brushed his devilock aside, the attendant shook his head and went back in.
Christian filled the tank and went into the small brick building. A tall man in a flannel shirt and a John Deere hat was leaning on the counter, making small-talk with the greasy, mustached attendant. They both turned and stared as Christian came in. The John-Deere-man gave an open-mouthed smile, chomping a wad of gum between his yellowed teeth.
“What’sis supposed to be, huh?” he asked, chomping harder on his gum. “Some kind of Halloween costume?” he turned and looked at the attendant and they laughed together. “Don’tcha think it’s a bit late?” he asked, turning back, never standing up from the counter.
“Tomorrow,” Christian said, “I’m planning on killing everyone in my school.” Christian grinned. “Tomorrow night, you are going to see it on the news, and they are going to show my picture, and your are going to turn to your family, and tell them how I was here. It’s going to end up being the most important thing to ever happen to you. Until the day you die, you are going to be telling people about how you met me the night before I perpetrated my horrible crime.”
“Well ain’t that a fact?” The attendant asked plainly through a half-smirk. “As long as you pay me the $15.75 you owe me, I’m not going to raise a quarrel.”
“Now boy, that ain’t funny,” John Deere said. “You shouldn’t be making jokes about that.”
Christian opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a little boy yelling, “Wow! Mom look at that!” A boy standing three feet tall came running in, stopping just short of colliding with Christian’s legs. He stared up, trying to smile broadly around his wide-open mouth.
Christian looked down and smiled nervously. Without looking, he dug his black wallet out of his pocket and dropped a twenty dollar bill on the counter.
“How’d you do that?” the boy asked.
Christian cocked an eyebrow. “Make-up.”
A pretty woman, looking to be in her mid thirties entered, pulling a wallet out of her maroon purse. She refused to take her nervous eyes off Christian.
The attendant rung up the sale and dropped the changed into the palm of Christian’s skeletal glove.
“Mom! That’s cool!” the boy exclaimed. He ran to his mother and tugged on her billowy, floral summer dress. “Can I go to school like that?”
She smiled nervously, still not looking away from Christian. “No, honey. That’s a costume, you don’t dress like that.”
Christian cast her a bored look and smiled half-heartedly. He shoved his change into his wallet and put it away. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, slipping between her and the counter, going out the door. He bit his lip when he heard all of them laughing.
Clark was standing outside the car, smoking a cigarette. “What was that all about?” he asked, pointing inside. He dropped the butt and stomped it.
“Local hicks,” Christian said, wrenching the door open. “Let’s go.” He sat down and slammed the door. “I felt like I was in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in there.” He turned the ignition and roared the car to life. He pressed play on the CD player and the Misfits boomed forth. He pointed to the Burger King that occupied the other half of the parking lot. “Any objections to eating here?” he asked.
“I’m sure you won’t get any from Clark, I don’t think he eats anywhere else,” Shannon said.
Clark shook his head. “No, not usually.”
“Are you going to the drive-through?” Andy asked.
“No,” Christian said. “I hate eating in the car.” He pulled away from the gas pump over into one of the communal parking spaces. He glanced down at the clock and said. “We have plenty of time. We’ll still get there early.” He pulled into the parking lot and stopped in a space by the door. “Plus, I don’t want to get covered in condiments like I usually do when I eat in the car.” He turned the Corsica off and they all got out of their seatbelts.
“Maybe if you tried putting the food in your mouth, it wouldn’t happen,” Shannon said. She pushed the door open and slid out.
As soon as they walked through the front doors, the restaurant went silent. Nervous eyes darted about and people started to whisper. The four of them got in the short line. In the kitchen, people were bending over to peer through the order window. One brown haired woman in her late twenties pointed at Shannon and whispered to the short-haired man next to her. Shannon spun around and lashed at the girl with her claws, making the couple look away. They made their orders to the purple-clad boy who didn’t know if he should laugh or be terrified. When they finally got their food, they took a table in the back corner, away from the crowd.
“God,” Andy said, sitting down on the outside of the booth next to Clark. “I don’t think these people have seen anything like you three before.”
Christian laughed, unwrapping his sandwich. “They don’t know what to do. They’re afraid that if they laugh, we’ll kill them.”
Andy smiled. “They’re probably afraid that if they make fun of you, you’ll cry, after spending all that time getting dressed up like clowns.”
“Watch it, preppy,” Clark said. “Unless you want to get some real blood on you.”
“Yeah,” Andy said dryly. “You’ve got me shaking.”
They ate quickly and got back in the car. On the highway and Christian reset the cruise-control at eighty. When the CD ended, he replaced it with Black Flag. After about fifteen minutes, he pushed the cruise to eighty-five.
“You know, Chris,” Clark said, lighting another cigarette. “The faster you go, the more time we spend in line. Maybe we should just accept a place at the back to get there in one piece.”
“Fuck no!” Shannon said. “We’re going to be in the front row. Keep up the speed, Chris.”
“To hell with the front row,” Christian said. “I’m going to be in the pit. I’m going to kick some ass to make up for yesterday.”
“Going to pretend that every long-hair and skin-head is Jim Smitt?” Clark asked.
“Oh!” Andy cried. “I hope there’s not a lot of skin heads!”
“There’s always a lot of skin heads,” Clark replied. “That’s what Mark Dorals told me. He said there’s always a ton of them, as well as metal-heads and jocks, who want to hear ‘Last Caress.’”
“Fuck,” Andy moaned. “I hate skin-heads.”
They continued on for nearly an hour and a half. As they approached the city, Christian asked, “Who has the directions?”
“Right here,” Shannon said, pulling a stapled packet of computer paper out of her back pack. She studied the paper intently. “Take exit 3,” she said. “It’s supposed to be right off the highway.”
“There should be a sign,” Clark said. “‘Misfits: This Way.’”
Christian turned off the cruise control and slipped into the exit lane. A beaming smile spread from ear-to-ear. “We’re almost there,” he said in a high-pitched voice. “We’re going to seem them soon.”
“If I hook up with Michael Graves, leave without me,” Shannon said. “I’ll find my own way home.”
“Where do I go?” Christian asked.
“Turn right here,” Shannon said, pointing to the entrance to a large parking lot. “Jesus!” she exclaimed. “It’s in a shopping plaza! This can’t be right.”
“Yeah,” Christian said. “There it is.” He pulled the car into a parking space in front of the club. A short line of black-clad kids in leather and make-up were lined up in front. “I told you there would be people here,” he said.
“Twenty!” Andy said, pointing to the line as he got out of the car. “We have more than an hour before they open the door...”
“Before they said the doors will open,” Clark corrected. “They are always late.”
“I don’t care,” Christian said. “We’re here.” He got out of the car and looked over at the front of the club. “Lock your doors.”
“You should have seen the look on her face!” Christian said as he got back in the car, wrapped in his long, black coat. “She didn’t know what to do!” He pulled the seat-belt across him and buckled it. “When I walked in, I thought she was going to scream. I can’t wait until my Mom has to bring stuff in!” He paused and looked somber for a moment, but smiled again.
“We finally ready to go?” Shannon asked, picking up the stack of CD’s that was on the front seat and flipping through them. She smiled at a Total Chaos disc and put it in the CD player.
Clark leaned over the front seat. “Are we going to stop for food somewhere?”
“Let’s wait a little while,” Andy said. “Let’s get on the road first.”
Christian nodded. “I want to just get on the road.” He slid the car into reverse and it shuddered over the change of gears. He turned around and backed out of the parking lot into the road. In response to being cut-off, a well-groomed man in a suit yelled mutely from the confines of his black sports car. Christian flashed him his middle finger, and finished pulling into the road. “We’ll stop around five,” he said. “That will put us a little more than half way there. We should still get to the club early.” Christian drove through town and got on the highway heading east. He set the cruise control to seventy-five, keeping in the left lane. The slower traffic flew past them, disappearing in the distance behind them.
Once they got on the open road, Clark said, “We’re going to be waiting outside for a while.” He pulled his ticket out of his wallet and held it up for them. “The tickets say the doors open at seven. That means they’ll open around eight.” He pulled a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket and lit it with his Zippo.
“I don’t care,” Christian said. “As long as we’re there in time. I would have left this morning if I could.”
“He called me three days ago,” Andy said. “He asked if I wanted to leave around nine this morning.” He shook his head. “I told him I wouldn’t go if he left that early.”
Christian chuckled. “If I had any inclination that you two would have gone along with it, I would have left him behind.”
Shannon shook her head. “There’s no way I’m sitting on the steps of some club all day, especially when we already have tickets.”
“We wouldn’t have just sat there,” Christian defended. “We could have seen the city, explored and stuff. I’m sure there’s some great record stores there.”
“I have the same feelings about wandering around a strange city,” she responded.
“Well,” Christian retorted, sounding defeated. “We don’t need to discuss it, because Andy convinced me not to.”
“Thank God,” Clark sighed. He laughed. “It’s Albany, Chris, there isn’t much to see, unless you’re really into state capitals. You’re a psycho, you know that, don’t you, Chris?”
“Yup,” Christian answered. “I know damn well.” He pointed down at the CD player and said, “I don’t want to hear that right now. I think we need to put in something to get us in the mood. Put on one of the Misfits discs.”
“Is that safe?” Clark asked. “I read somewhere that you aren’t supposed to listen to a band the day you go see them. You know, the show-curse?”
“It’s fine,” Christian said. “Because I’m going to see this band no matter what it takes.” He punched the steering wheel playfully. “If I have to kill cops, we’re going to see the Misfits. If I have to personally pick them up because their bus broke down, we’re going to see the Misfits. If I have to kidnap them because my car broke down, and we missed the show, we will see the Misfits.”
Clark shrugged. “As long as you tell everyone that we’re victims of your madness.”
“Oh, of course,” Christian said.
Shannon took out the Total Chaos and replaced it with the Misfits. “They’d better play all these songs,” She said, looking at the back of the CD. She beat on the dashboard along with the drums and sang along. “This is going to be the best show ever.”
“Better than the time the P.C. girls got offended and tried to riot?” Andy asked.
“Way better,” she responded with an emphatic nod. “That was pretty good though. I’ve never laughed harder in my entire life! It’s like, have a sense of humor, you know? It’s not like that band even supported going out and clubbing seals!”
“Yeah,” Clark said. “I was talking to the band after the whole thing happened, and they were telling me that if those kids had taken the time to listen to the words, they would have seen that it’s a song against cruelty to animals. It sucks that some people in the scene have to be such purists, that they have to pick a fight with people on their side.”
“Whatever happened to this scene being open-minded?” Shannon asked. “Some of the kids around here are even worse than the bigots they fight against.”
“Shit,” Christian exclaimed, looking down at the control panel.
“What?” Clark asked.
“What the fuck?!” Christian cried. “I filled up the tank this morning!” He tapped the glass in front of the gauge. “This has got to be wrong, this has got to be broken!” He continued to tap for a couple seconds and let out a desperate sigh. “Someone must have drained the fucking tank!” He punched the steering wheel hard enough to beep the horn. “It must have been Jim! I bet he drained it when he was at my car!”
“How much gas do we have?” Shannon asked, straining to see the gauge from her angle.
“Not much,” Christian replied. “I hope we have enough to make it to the next exit.” He shook his head. “God damn it! Why do they have to try and ruin everything? Why can’t they ever just let me be! They can’t just let me have one day! Fuckers! They fucking deserve it!”
Shannon looked over at him nervously. “Chris, don’t worry about it, we’ll be fine.” She pointed to a green sign on the side of the highway. “We can stop here in this little town, there’s a gas station there.”
“I’m going to get them,” Christian grumbled. “I’m fucking going to show them.”
“Don’t get yourself beat up again,” Andy said, putting his hand on Christian’s shoulder. “It’s not worth it to go after him and his friends. You’re just going to get yourself hurt.”
“No,” Christian said. “I’m going to get them back.” He pulled off the highway and followed the signs for the gas station. Everyone in the car was silent, watching the gas gauge. “Where the fuck is it?” Christian grumbled as they passed out of a little town and into an empty stretch of road. “Is it even fucking here?”
A few minutes later, they entered another town and came to a garage with pumps that shared a parking lot with a Burger King. Christian pulled the car into the lot and drove up to one of the pumps. Everyone released a collective sigh as he turned the car off. Christian dropped his head to the steering wheel for a second and then threw his head back, smacking his devilock against the roof of the car. “I really thought we were fucked,” he said. “I really thought we weren’t going to make it to the show.”
Clark sighed again. “Well, we are going to. I want no more negative thinking.” He pointed at the Burger King. “And look at that, we can stop there for food!”
Christian looked back at him and smiled.
As he was getting out of the car, a fat attendant was shuffling out of the building. He started to ask, “You want full...” He stopped dead as Christian turned to face him, and his jaw dropped open. When Christian smiled and brushed his devilock aside, the attendant shook his head and went back in.
Christian filled the tank and went into the small brick building. A tall man in a flannel shirt and a John Deere hat was leaning on the counter, making small-talk with the greasy, mustached attendant. They both turned and stared as Christian came in. The John-Deere-man gave an open-mouthed smile, chomping a wad of gum between his yellowed teeth.
“What’sis supposed to be, huh?” he asked, chomping harder on his gum. “Some kind of Halloween costume?” he turned and looked at the attendant and they laughed together. “Don’tcha think it’s a bit late?” he asked, turning back, never standing up from the counter.
“Tomorrow,” Christian said, “I’m planning on killing everyone in my school.” Christian grinned. “Tomorrow night, you are going to see it on the news, and they are going to show my picture, and your are going to turn to your family, and tell them how I was here. It’s going to end up being the most important thing to ever happen to you. Until the day you die, you are going to be telling people about how you met me the night before I perpetrated my horrible crime.”
“Well ain’t that a fact?” The attendant asked plainly through a half-smirk. “As long as you pay me the $15.75 you owe me, I’m not going to raise a quarrel.”
“Now boy, that ain’t funny,” John Deere said. “You shouldn’t be making jokes about that.”
Christian opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a little boy yelling, “Wow! Mom look at that!” A boy standing three feet tall came running in, stopping just short of colliding with Christian’s legs. He stared up, trying to smile broadly around his wide-open mouth.
Christian looked down and smiled nervously. Without looking, he dug his black wallet out of his pocket and dropped a twenty dollar bill on the counter.
“How’d you do that?” the boy asked.
Christian cocked an eyebrow. “Make-up.”
A pretty woman, looking to be in her mid thirties entered, pulling a wallet out of her maroon purse. She refused to take her nervous eyes off Christian.
The attendant rung up the sale and dropped the changed into the palm of Christian’s skeletal glove.
“Mom! That’s cool!” the boy exclaimed. He ran to his mother and tugged on her billowy, floral summer dress. “Can I go to school like that?”
She smiled nervously, still not looking away from Christian. “No, honey. That’s a costume, you don’t dress like that.”
Christian cast her a bored look and smiled half-heartedly. He shoved his change into his wallet and put it away. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, slipping between her and the counter, going out the door. He bit his lip when he heard all of them laughing.
Clark was standing outside the car, smoking a cigarette. “What was that all about?” he asked, pointing inside. He dropped the butt and stomped it.
“Local hicks,” Christian said, wrenching the door open. “Let’s go.” He sat down and slammed the door. “I felt like I was in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in there.” He turned the ignition and roared the car to life. He pressed play on the CD player and the Misfits boomed forth. He pointed to the Burger King that occupied the other half of the parking lot. “Any objections to eating here?” he asked.
“I’m sure you won’t get any from Clark, I don’t think he eats anywhere else,” Shannon said.
Clark shook his head. “No, not usually.”
“Are you going to the drive-through?” Andy asked.
“No,” Christian said. “I hate eating in the car.” He pulled away from the gas pump over into one of the communal parking spaces. He glanced down at the clock and said. “We have plenty of time. We’ll still get there early.” He pulled into the parking lot and stopped in a space by the door. “Plus, I don’t want to get covered in condiments like I usually do when I eat in the car.” He turned the Corsica off and they all got out of their seatbelts.
“Maybe if you tried putting the food in your mouth, it wouldn’t happen,” Shannon said. She pushed the door open and slid out.
As soon as they walked through the front doors, the restaurant went silent. Nervous eyes darted about and people started to whisper. The four of them got in the short line. In the kitchen, people were bending over to peer through the order window. One brown haired woman in her late twenties pointed at Shannon and whispered to the short-haired man next to her. Shannon spun around and lashed at the girl with her claws, making the couple look away. They made their orders to the purple-clad boy who didn’t know if he should laugh or be terrified. When they finally got their food, they took a table in the back corner, away from the crowd.
“God,” Andy said, sitting down on the outside of the booth next to Clark. “I don’t think these people have seen anything like you three before.”
Christian laughed, unwrapping his sandwich. “They don’t know what to do. They’re afraid that if they laugh, we’ll kill them.”
Andy smiled. “They’re probably afraid that if they make fun of you, you’ll cry, after spending all that time getting dressed up like clowns.”
“Watch it, preppy,” Clark said. “Unless you want to get some real blood on you.”
“Yeah,” Andy said dryly. “You’ve got me shaking.”
They ate quickly and got back in the car. On the highway and Christian reset the cruise-control at eighty. When the CD ended, he replaced it with Black Flag. After about fifteen minutes, he pushed the cruise to eighty-five.
“You know, Chris,” Clark said, lighting another cigarette. “The faster you go, the more time we spend in line. Maybe we should just accept a place at the back to get there in one piece.”
“Fuck no!” Shannon said. “We’re going to be in the front row. Keep up the speed, Chris.”
“To hell with the front row,” Christian said. “I’m going to be in the pit. I’m going to kick some ass to make up for yesterday.”
“Going to pretend that every long-hair and skin-head is Jim Smitt?” Clark asked.
“Oh!” Andy cried. “I hope there’s not a lot of skin heads!”
“There’s always a lot of skin heads,” Clark replied. “That’s what Mark Dorals told me. He said there’s always a ton of them, as well as metal-heads and jocks, who want to hear ‘Last Caress.’”
“Fuck,” Andy moaned. “I hate skin-heads.”
They continued on for nearly an hour and a half. As they approached the city, Christian asked, “Who has the directions?”
“Right here,” Shannon said, pulling a stapled packet of computer paper out of her back pack. She studied the paper intently. “Take exit 3,” she said. “It’s supposed to be right off the highway.”
“There should be a sign,” Clark said. “‘Misfits: This Way.’”
Christian turned off the cruise control and slipped into the exit lane. A beaming smile spread from ear-to-ear. “We’re almost there,” he said in a high-pitched voice. “We’re going to seem them soon.”
“If I hook up with Michael Graves, leave without me,” Shannon said. “I’ll find my own way home.”
“Where do I go?” Christian asked.
“Turn right here,” Shannon said, pointing to the entrance to a large parking lot. “Jesus!” she exclaimed. “It’s in a shopping plaza! This can’t be right.”
“Yeah,” Christian said. “There it is.” He pulled the car into a parking space in front of the club. A short line of black-clad kids in leather and make-up were lined up in front. “I told you there would be people here,” he said.
“Twenty!” Andy said, pointing to the line as he got out of the car. “We have more than an hour before they open the door...”
“Before they said the doors will open,” Clark corrected. “They are always late.”
“I don’t care,” Christian said. “We’re here.” He got out of the car and looked over at the front of the club. “Lock your doors.”
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