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   Chapter 11 No.11

Dead Man’s Hammer By Christina Engela Characters: 5556

Updated: 2018-06-30 12:02

Well, okay – Mei's beau, Gary was awfully nice to her, the few times they met. At least he treated her like a lady, even though he knew her little secret. Then again, he loved Mei, who was just like her, once. Mei seemed very happy with him. Perhaps there was still hope for her?

The streets were quiet, but reasonably safe, and it was warm enough for the frisky outfits they were wearing. Currently the two miss-demeanors were walking home after a night out and a few too many Lemon Spikes at the bar. Mary-Jo was a very straight-laced kind of chick. Didn't drink any alcohol either, not a drop – nothing but soft drinks the whole evening. (Giggle!) Which is why she was supporting Danielle on the walk home. Straight-laced. Wa-ha-ha-ha.

* * *

The Ramalama-set was spectacular, setting the cityscape a blaze with an orange and bronze spectrum, before settling into a dark, bloody red and then the comforting dark of night. The lights on Bottlenose Bridge lent it all a fairytale kind of effect. Somewhere in a penthouse atop a tall office building in a central part of Atro City, a cocktail party was in progress.

It was no coincidence that it was the tallest building in the area, providing an excellent view of the surrounding city and the Bay, which was laid out before Bartholomew Farrow – and all his guests – creating the impression that he could just reach out and take something if he wanted it. He was vain and arrogant enough to think that's how it really was too. After all, the building belonged to him, and as a matter of fact, so did three of the surrounding city blocks.

At his 47 years, Bartholomew Farrow, the Managing Director of Mac


Farrow smiled. The delight he felt was all over his face – well, over the bits that weren't behind a mask – delight he felt over a secret joy he'd been keeping from bubbling over inside him – one he all too rarely experienced in real life.

"You see?" He said. "That's exactly it. Everybody wants to know why, where and what. People these days can't just get the job over with. Mind their own damn business. Why can't they be more like you?"

Ms Smith seemed to be paying him her full and ardent attention.

"I'm flattered, Mister Farrow." The lady purred, her eyes holding him in place like those of a well-fed cat watching a mouse scampering cheekily past it.

"Interfering do-gooders. Can't stand them." He continued, clearly wanting to tell somebody about his plans, very badly – at least, someone he felt would be able to appreciate matters on his level. "A few months ago I failed to secure the deeds to a really lucrative mining site. It's taken my own people years to secure continuous failure, Ms. Smith. Now, ever since they entered the picture, nobody wants to go near the place."

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