The Predators
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Prologue
Book One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Book Two
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Part Two
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Book Three
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Book Four
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Praise
Copyright
For my wife, Jann, with all my love and gratitude
PROLOGUE
For a thousand years, Plescassier was a spring in the Alps of France that sprayed its water on the earth; it was a sacred, worshiped spring until Man decided to take this natural resource and bottle it, ship it, and sell the water for profit around the world.
Suddenly there was a change in reason for and about Plescassier water.
BOOK ONE
TWO CENTS PLAIN
1
I looked down at the kitchen table. I stared at my math homework. This was hell. I could do arithmetic in my head, but when it came to algebra or geometry I couldn’t get it. I wasn’t stupid, but it just didn’t make any sense to me.
I looked up at the kitchen clock. It was midnight. I looked out through the window. I had the window open just a crack. It was starting to get too cold in the room. I walked over to turn on the heat. I didn’t blame my parents for wanting to spend the weekend in Atlantic City. It was always nice there on the beach, and they loved the ocean air.
I closed the window in the kitchen and turned on the radio. Guy Lombardo and the Royal Canadians were playing. The radio show came from the Pennsylvania Hotel at midnight every night. Real good music. Dance music. My parents loved this show. They loved to dance. I would bet that they were listening to it on the way home on the car radio.
I looked over at my pack of Twenty Grands. It was almost empty. I took one out of the pack and lit it. I started straightening my math papers to put in the loose-leaf folder when I heard a knock at the back door. Quickly I pinched out the cigarette and threw the butt out the window.
“Who is it?” I called. I knew it wasn’t my parents—they had their own keys to the door. Maybe it was Kitty, but she hadn’t told me she was coming back again. She had been down earlier in the afternoon. I had gotten laid twice before we went out and got Chinese. Besides, she wouldn’t be back again—she knew my parents were coming home tonight. I heard a voice come through the door but I couldn’t hear who they said. I called out again.
“Who’s there?”
The voice was deeper and hoarse. “It’s your Uncle Harry and Aunt Lila.”
I walked over to the door to open the lock bolt. My father always insisted that I keep the bolt on the door when I was there by myself.
“Come on in,” I said, surprised to see my aunt and uncle. “Mom and Dad aren’t back from Atlantic City yet. They should be here pretty soon. They’re probably slow because of traffic on the turnpike.” I looked at my aunt. She looked like she had been crying. Uncle Harry stood and looked at me. “You want to come in and sit down?” I asked. “They’ll probably be here any minute.”
Uncle Harry and Aunt Lila came in the door. I closed the door behind them.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?”
The top of my aunt’s head barely came up to my chest, but she put her arms around me and pulled me toward her. “My poor tatele.” Her tears were wet against my shirt. “My poor tatele, what are we going to do?”
Suddenly, I felt a knot in my stomach. I pulled away from her. I looked over at my Uncle Harry. His face was flushed, but that was normal.
“What’s going on?” I asked. I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath.
“There was an accident on the New Jersey Turnpike. Your mother and father were coming back from Atlantic City,” he said.
“Yeah, I know. Were they in an accident?” I asked, trying to figure out what was going on.
Uncle Harry’s eyes spoke the answer.
“They’re okay,” I said, my voice quivering, fighting the truth. “Right?”
“The car went off the road, it was really foggy,” he said. “The state troopers pulled the car out of the water, but it was too late.”
“The car doors were locked and jammed. They couldn’t get out,” Aunt Lila said as she reached for me, tears streaming down her cheeks.
My legs were going out from under me. I reached for a chair and sat down heavily. I sat there staring at Aunt Lila. I felt Harry’s hand on my shoulder. “I’ll get you a schnapps. I know you’re not old enough. But I think you need it.”
I started to motion where he should go to get it. I think he was the one who needed a schnapps.
&
nbsp; “Don’t get up, Jerry. I know where your father keeps it in the kitchen closet,” Harry said.
He came back with two glasses and the bottle. He sat a glass in front of me. “No thanks, Uncle Harry. You go ahead and have a drink, but I can’t handle it right now.”
There was silence as Harry poured himself a schnapps.
“What do I do now?” I asked.
“We have a lot to do,” Uncle Harry said. “It’s already Monday. As soon as your school opens I’ll call them and explain that you won’t be coming to school for at least a week. Then I’ll need to drive you over to Jersey City to the morgue. You’re head of the family and you will need to sign some papers. I called Kaplan at the Seventeenth Street Mortuary. He’ll send a hearse to the morgue to pick up your parents as soon as the papers are signed.”
“Harry?” Aunt Lila tried to get Harry to slow down, but he brushed her aside.
“Kaplan’s oldest son will come over here in the morning and pick up the clothes for your parents to be buried in. Rabbi Cohen will do the services. We already have a family plot at Mount Zion Cemetery in Queens. We’ll start calling all of the relatives right now and we should be able to get everyone here by Tuesday.” Uncle Harry had everything planned but it didn’t make sense to me.
“Why wait? Why not have the services tomorrow?” I asked.
“But what about the family?” Uncle Harry asked.
“We haven’t seen most of the relatives in years. They all think of you and Daddy as nothing more than cheap bookies. To hell with them,” I said in disgust.
“Tatele, don’t—” Aunt Lila started.
“No, Aunt Lila,” I stated. “Why should we pay good money to take them all in Cadillacs to the cemetery?”
Aunt Lila began crying again. “It’s a shande; they’ll think we have no respect.”
“Enough,” Uncle Harry said in his bosslike attitude. He put his hand up to quiet Lila. “Jerry’s right. They don’t respect us. To hell with them.”
“But, Harry…” Aunt Lila started to protest again. She looked over at Harry and then stopped. She knew his mind was made up.
I looked at my uncle. “What time in the morning do we have to leave?” I asked.
Uncle Harry took out his pocket watch and flipped the top open.
“If we’re going to have the funeral tomorrow,” he said importantly, “I’ll have to pick you up at six-fifteen so we can drive over to Jersey City and back.”
“I’ll be ready,” I said solemnly.
Aunt Lila reached across to touch Harry’s arm. “The boy will need to get some clothes together so he can come home with us now. I don’t want him to be alone tonight.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Tatele, don’t you want to stay with us? You don’t want to be alone in this house tonight,” she said. “We love you and want you to be with us.”
I looked at her. I knew she meant well, but I just had to be alone for a while.
“I’m not a kid,” I said. “I’m used to my own bed. Besides, this is still my home. I want to be here.”
Uncle Harry came to the rescue. “Leave him alone. Besides, he has things to do here. He’ll pick out his parents’ clothes for the service. He has to get his good blue suit out so he has something to wear.”
“Uncle Harry, I wore that at my bar mitzvah. The moths have eaten that years ago. I have a brand-new suit that Daddy bought me just a few months ago.” Suddenly everything seemed to choke up on me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I didn’t want to cry.
I remembered my father had taken me to Joe and Paul’s to get a new suit. We had lunch together and then we went and got Mama a present for Mother’s Day. I fought back the tears.
“Just one thing,” Uncle Harry said. “Your father had a small briefcase that he always carried. By any chance, do you know where he kept the case?”
He was right. My father always had the briefcase at the apartment. It was the betting slips. I had sneaked a look a long time ago. He left it in his closet. “I can get it for you, Uncle Harry.” I nodded and went into their bedroom and brought the case out to Harry.
Uncle Harry opened the flap of the case and looked inside. Quickly, he took out a bundle of bills held with a heavy red rubber band. He flipped the bills one by one with his thumb. He then put them back into the case and snapped the flap shut. “Good,” he said. “You’ve saved me a lot of money, Jerry. Once I check the slips I won’t have to pay a bunch of phony claims once it gets out that your father has died.” He shook my hand. “You’re very much like your father, Jerry. You’re bright, just like he was.” He turned to Aunt Lila and then back to me. “I can stay over with you, if you want.”
“I’ll manage, Uncle Harry. But thank you, anyway.”
Aunt Lila came over and hugged me. She started to cry again. “You’re a brave mensch,” she said softly.
“Don’t cry anymore,” I said to her. “I love you both.”
Harry grabbed my hand tightly. “You’re a good boy.” He shook his finger at me. “And just remember, don’t smoke,” Uncle Harry said in a fatherly way.
“C’mon, Uncle Harry,” I said, and wondered if he had smelled the cigarette smoke when he came in.
He turned to Aunt Lila. “Let’s get home to bed. We all have a very busy day ahead of us.”
2
I closed the door and shoved the bolt and locked it tight. I walked over and sat down at the table. I pushed my homework papers to the floor. Fuck it, the hell with it. I lit another Twenty Grand cigarette. The smoke felt good in my lungs. I needed a good drag. I studied the Twenty Grand package on the table. The drawing of the great Kentucky Derby winner on the front of the package was really a beauty. That was one of the reasons that I bought Twenty Grands. They also cost less than Luckys or Camels or Chesterfields. But for some reason tonight I couldn’t even taste the smoke in my mouth or nose. I stared blankly ahead at the white-papered kitchen wall. I remembered when my father and I had tried to roll that wallpaper on ourselves, but it was a mess. He finally got fed up trying to figure it out and hired the super to do the work. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard another knock at the door.
“Hold on, Uncle Harry,” I hollered for the second time, pinching my cigarette butt and throwing it out the kitchen window.
“It’s me,” Kitty called through the door. “Hurry up, will you? Someone might see me.”
I opened the door and Kitty breezed in by me in a thin pink robe. I closed the door and snapped at her. “Are you crazy or something? Your dad will kill you if he finds you dressed like that up here in my apartment.”
“My father is fast asleep, and he thinks that his baby girl is in dreamland.” She grinned. “I came down the fire escape and through the hall window.”
“Kitty, I think you oughtta—”
Kitty was talking ninety miles an hour. “I thought I was a goner when your aunt and uncle showed up. I was just about ready to come in the kitchen window to bring you my present. I had to sneak back upstairs until they left.”
“Kitty…” But I had a hard time finding my voice.
“At first I thought it was your folks, which would have ruined everything, but when I saw it wasn’t them…” She stared at me finally. “Hey baby, what’s the matter?”
I still had a problem finding my voice. I rubbed my sleeve across my cheek to stop the tears.
“What’s the matter, Jerry?” she asked. A real concern had come into her voice.
“They’ve…” I reached for the kitchen towel to dry my tears on my cheek. “They were killed tonight in an accident on the Jersey Turnpike coming back from Atlantic City.” By then I really was crying.
“Oh, my God.” She pulled me to her. “You poor kid.”
“I’m not a kid—you’re only two years older than me.” A sob made me shudder. I struggled to get myself together. “I’ll be all right.”
“Of course you will,” she said softly, holding me tightly and stroking my forehead. A terri
ble pain seemed to engulf me as I cried.
I tried to pull away, but she still held me close until finally I was able to get my voice back. I looked at her. She was bare-assed naked under that little robe.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked. “You can’t live here by yourself.”
“I don’t know. I’ll probably have to move in with my aunt and uncle.” I started to reach for my package of cigarettes from the table, but my hand caught accidentally on her robe and pulled it open. “Damn!” I said. “What the hell are you doing, Kitty? I can see everything that you’ve got!” I wasn’t able to move my eyes from her nipples, which were sticking out.
“That’s what the surprise was. That’s why I sneaked down here,” she said.
“Damn,” I said. “We did it twice before dinner.”
“Yeah, well I thought it’d be nice to do it again. After all, we don’t get that many chances to be alone where we don’t have to sneak around.” She rubbed her hand against my fly.
“Cut it out, will ya?” I growled.
Still trying to open my fly, she nuzzled my cheek and whispered. “You’re sad, and nervous. Maybe I could relax you a little bit and you’d feel better.”
I pushed her away. “What kind of schmuck do you take me for? Don’t you get it? My parents were just killed in an automobile accident.”
She kept right on and got my fly open and slipped her hand inside my pants and held my cock tight. “Better tell him. He’s still standing and hard.” She pulled it out and she was right—it was standing at attention. “What do you call that?”
“I got a nervous reaction.”
“That’s bullshit,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “I call it a hard-on and my pussy is aching for one more time.”
I pulled her hand off of me. “It’s not right. Besides, I can’t really do anything right now.”
Kitty stared at me persistently. “Don’t be stupid,” she said almost angrily. “How do you think we’re going to make out when you’re living with your aunt and uncle? Don’t break my heart. This might be our last time.”
I shook my head and pushed my prick back inside my pants. I felt stupid. My hand was soaking wet from my leaking pecker.
She started crying. “I just want to help you. C’mon, grab one of the Ramses from your dad’s top dresser drawer.”