Rytius Records (Substack Edition), Ch. 5

Chapter 5. Special Delivery

5. Special Delivery

Never hard to spot, Ritius emerged first from his black truck, before his guard, and even before his valet. He had the effect of a wedge in flowing water, tower residents scattering leftward into the towers and around corners further up the street, and shoppers streaming rightward, across the street, past the sentry gates, to disappear among the alcoves, stalls, and niches of the market. His shotgun swung out from under his oiled horsehide cloak and hit the side of the truck. Whereas the mere appearance of his armored black pickup truck emblazoned with Appall’s red death harp insignia hadn’t, this noise—halfway between the gong of a steel drum and the strike of a hammer on the head of a particularly large nail—alarmed the two women serving breakfast sandwiches from the BROOKSIDE BREAKFAST BUGGY.