The Savage President

ver managed to drive out of the walls. Wren Calloway stood in the doorway at ten minutes to four, a duffel b

enty-eight. Bartender. Bad at keeping

ed under green-shaded lamps. A jukebox in the corner glowed the color of a bruise. Everything in the room looked tired except the three bikes s

the Madd

a row of pint glasses with a towel older than Wren's career. She had silver hair cut short as a boy's, forea

said. "Thanks fo

set down the glass and pointed the towel at t

hem over the way a farmer inspects a calf. She ran a thumb across the pad of Wren's pa

ters," Dolly said. "

in a government motel for six weeks. "My dad ran a garage in

that

ull a carburetor, I'l

ll, that's a better answer than most. Most people who lie to me get nervo

he forced herself to laugh, short and a li

"Welcome to the Anchor, hone

egend built by the Bureau down to the parking tickets, and the first person she met had read he

◆

as full, and Wren understood

vest sat with his back to a wall or a pillar. Every table had a clear line to the door. The ones who wore the patch, a skull wreathed in iron chain

atches in the room. Two prospects in plain vests, fetching and carrying and keeping their eyes down. A big man with a

of the bar, who had been

ar that cut a white line through one eyebrow. His vest was too clean. Sergeant-at-Ar

id his empty glass toward

let the foam settle, topped it of

ale and flat as a dish of water. "Question is who you're gonna be. Girls come through here

e wh

anything above his mouth. "

o something bored and sweet. "I'm not curious. I'm broke. The

uted a joke and the whole row of men roared, and the pressure broke,

that might have meant approval or might have meant pity. The smell of fryer grease and cheap perfume dr

w the bar where he could not see, were trembling at last.

. One night. One man.

the morning, nineteen years old, and watched a doctor tell her mother that her

◆

n the door opened an

pond. The pool game on table two stopped mid-shot. The laughter at the far end died in a wh

e sink, a pint glass i

ut this one stood in the doorway with the black night behind him and the whole bar bent around him like iron filings around

e leather vest as the others, but the rocker across his chest said PRESIDENT, and the patch over his heart was worn pale with years of use. His eyes

om the end of the bar, dry as

iet, and carried to every corn

d

out a

my bar

raise his voice. He did not have t

'm aware. I put flowers o

. He crossed the long room with the unhurried stride of a man who had never once doubted that the floor would hold. He stopped at the bar di

the shadows under his eyes, and the tension runn

" he said

She slid it across, and he did not touch it. He looked at her instead, a lo

irl,"

t's my

touched the corner of his mouth. "You haven'

oul

ple can't

fore she could stop them. Wren felt Dolly's

down with a soft click. When he spoke again it was s

ou're not, are yo

perfectly still, and she kept her face as blank as a closed door, and the whole world narrowed to the gra