“I don’t know. To be honest, I’m just kind of taking it all in.”

He watched, as a hologram rendering filled the room with video of someone doing just that.

The cab door flew open and he drew his pistol.

“What the hell are you doing!? Let’s go!”

Duck was looking down at him with a blank expression, aiming a pistol into his face.

Most of the bikers hadn’t even gotten up from the filthy couches yet but a couple had drawn their guns and were taking shots at them. One man still had his hands in the fridge. Another, who’d been engaged in the act of coitus with another biker on a Formica patio table was in a kind of stasis, mid-pump, pants around ankles.

“Cease fire!”...

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