“I always made it clear that once I broke one of you, I would have to go out and buy a new one.  Now I have to blast out a help wanted.  Shooter with nothing to lose.  Now hiring.”

Bill paused for a moment to down a gulp of beer.

“On the plus side, we get to split up his share of the contract.”

Liquid Sky sat around Bill’s living room, listening to him chide them.  Rick turned and looked out of the corner of his eye.  Ramon sat with his arms crossed.  Deckard held a half-empty bottle of beer resting on his lap.  He looked drunk, but it had nothing to do with the beer.  He had just gotten released from the hospital in St. Louis.  The doctors said he had a slight concussion.  He’d be fine once the swelling of his brain went down in a day or two.