Rita sees them coming, moving carefully through the Friday crowd. She waits till they reach their spot, then kills the booming juke. "Clear the floor!" she commands, quelling the protests with a glare till the two are standing alone. She punches up their song and the room fills with ghosts. Eyes only for themselves, they embrace and slowly dance. They were girls then, lovers when the madness struck. One to the camps, the...
"Gimme the cash, bitch!" Rita looks up from behind the bar. "Or what? she asks calmly. "Or I cap your black ass, cunt!" he menaces, waving the gun in his hoodie pocket. Rita flicks a switch and the jukebox goes silent. "Ladies? This roach wants my money. What do you think?" she calls out, looking past him. His eyes jack wide open hearing half a dozen automatics being chambered behind him. A two-way crackles. "Sargent? Chi...
