Austin City Limits

Crime Lord:: Ch. 10

The crowd was alive with electricity, the bodies moved as one swaying to the beat of the bass. When the chorus rang out, arms drifted up into the air, pointing high to the sky. Lights from the stage swallowed us whole as they swiveled around the room. It was a feeling that blossomed from my very core and rang out to the tips of my toes to the crown of my head. I felt alive.

The boys crowded the small stage since Porter and Zackary were just two out of six in the band. Zackary let his personality shine as his voice rang out leading the group through song. Every once and a while he would pull out his ukulele and jam along with the band. Porter is the heartbeat of the group, setting the pace and keeping the tempo. An Asian looking kid was head banging while playing the keyboard to the standards of Beethoven. A red-haired, lanky guy with relentless energy jumped and danced all over the stage with his electric violin. Also, two of the guys that I've met at school through Porter and Zackary were on stage playing the electric and bass guitars.

I listened to most of their set, but the mysterious message was beginning to burn a hole in my pocket and I wanted to read it before the boys were done with the show. When Zackary announced the last song I gently tugged at a strand Paisley's curly locks to get her attention. Whisper-yelling into her ear, I explained I was going to find a restroom. Paisley may or may not have heard me but she nodded without taking her eyes off the violinist, who just did a back flip on stage. These guys really knew how to put on a theatrical show.

Pushing my way to the back of the crowd proved to be a challenge with the enraptured fans hardly noticing my undisputable effort. But at last I slipped past the last groupie and followed a long secluded hallway into the deep corner of the club. I was looking for the women's bathroom but stumbled across an unmarked door that was faintly cracked open. Peeking inside I noticed more lounge couches similar to the ones on the balcony and decided this was as good a place as any to read what was written. The message was short and "sweet."

"What the hell did you do to get yourself noticed by a damn crime lord? Find me." - M. T.

I re-read it twice, but the words never changed. I wasn't sure what one had to do to become a crime lord, but the implications sounded frightening.

Trying to digest this new information, I let my body slink down the wall and slump against the cold laminate floor. I wish I still carried my small pocket knife with me, but it remained unpacked in my luggage since arriving in Austin. It wouldn't do much harm, but at least it would provide me some comfort.

My head drops between my propped knees and I coach my breathing, in and out, in and out. I don't understand how I got tangled up in this mess, with no information to go on. Not even a name!

"Couldn't stay away, now, could you?" The deep voice is barely an inch away and startles me so bad that my quick reflexes activate and elbow Michael Treble straight in his pop star nose.

"Don't do that!" I shake off the willies but Michael just looks at me with disbelief.

With sarcastic movements he gestures to the blood dripping down his chin, "Ow!"

"That's what happens when you sneak up on a real woman, you get your skinny butt whooped." I must admit that I am quite pleased with myself.

Michael goes and grabs a cloth on a table full of snacks and goodies I overlooked earlier and starts to wipe the blood off his face but he can't seem to get the bleeding to subside. Using my body weight, I pull him down on a nearby loveseat and gently tip his head back. Michael hands over the rag, which I use to put pressure on his nose and stop up the bleeding.

After a few moments, I can't hold my questions back any longer. "What did your note mean?"

"Was it not obvious?" But his voice comes out nasally with a plugged nose. He removes the temporary dressing before continuing, "I'll put it this way, you've got some frighteningly notorious mother fuckers searching for you." Michael reaches in between us and I'm about to slap his hand but he pulls out a box of cigarettes and packs them against the palm of his hand a few times before snagging one out. "Want one? It helps calm the nerves."