Thursday, October 21, 2004
Twenty-hour hours to kill on the north shore of Oahu turned out to be a beautiful thing indeed. Dark decided to take himself on his word and grabbed a crown coke from the pool bar and went to lounge on a chaise between a pair of twenty something swimsuit models. After about three refills, he was feeling good and the sun was soaking in. A dip in the pool sounded good. It was about noon, the sun was roasting, and he had one of those early afternoon buzzes that are the guilty pleasures of drunkards and vagabonds the world over.
Much later. Evening. Sitting on the beach with a bottle of Cuervo, pretty fuckin’ drunk, chillin’ out under a palm tree. Taking in the scene. About a half moon, enough that the moonlight reflected off the ocean, the few passersby walking along the beach visible to Dark’s trained night vision.
But they couldn’t see him, hidden in his little shady spot, now could they? Not unless they were fuckin’ Ted Williams, ain’t that right boyo?
Dark was trying to stifle it, but the booze and the breeze were conspiring against him. The hunger was coming on him. He wanted to kill, to hurt, to maim. He wanted to hear screams and see blood.
This was not the time for play, however. He was here on business, and he couldn’t take the chance of attention from the police. Funny how he missed the job. When he didn’t attend to his work, his work attended to him. He just couldn’t stay away, and he didn’t even try anymore.
But not tonight. He’d feel better in the morning, he could already feel the hangover even though he was still wasted off his ass. The pain in his head would dull the bloodlust. Save it for his enemies. The innocent were just that, and it wasn’t their time to die tonight, at least not by his hands.
Dark stumbled back up the beach and towards his room. It was barely 11 pm but this place was just about shut down. The bar had closed at 10:30.
He almost expected those two punks that had snuck up on him in Waikiki to be waiting in his room, but it was all clear. He forced himself to drink some water and passed out. He hoped for dreams of Chan’s mystery girl, but if his subconscious gave him images during the night, he was unable to recall them the next day.