Page 61 of The Hitchhikers

Simon picked up one of the jars and lowered it into his empty bag.

Alice set her bag down next to his. Tidily arranged nearby were all sorts of what seemed to be smoking apparatus—bongs, glass tubes, ceramic teapots, decanters, and vases with spouts. One looked like an old man with a beard. Alice lifted it up, wondering how it worked.

“I don’t care about those,” Simon said. “Grab the jars.”

The door suddenly opened behind them. Alice whirled around and saw a man, tall, with long black hair, bronzed skin, and dressed in a white tunic.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” Hewalked to the counter and set down a metal thermos, keys, and a folded newspaper. “Are you friends of Tasha and Misty?”

Simon was standing stock-still, his hand grasping the paper bag.

“We helped them unload the van,” Alice said.

“Yeah?” The man turned away from the counter. “You interested in joining? My name’s Phoenix. I lead the prayer sessions.” He took a couple of steps toward her, reached for her hand, and clasped it between his palms. He smiled at her, his brown eyes warm and sincere, then his expression changed. He tilted his head, frowned with concern. “Is everything okay, sister?”

“I’m fine.” She tugged her hand from his grasp.

Phoenix looked to Simon, and for the first time he seemed to notice the brown paper bags. He stared at them, then back to Simon. Alice’s stomach plummeted. The silence seemed to grow and stretch. Phoenix was still looking at Simon.

Studying him.

Oh no. The newspaper.

Phoenix blinked, then shook his head. “Oh, hey, I just remembered I’ve left my breakfast in my car.” He spun toward the door.

“Keys?” Simon held out his arm, keys dangling from one hooked finger.

Phoenix hesitated, then turned back. The moment he touched the keys, Simon picked up the metal thermos with his other hand and swung for Phoenix’s head. Phoenix ducked to the side, and Simon got him in the shoulder with a thud.

In an instant, the two men were locked in a struggle, swinging and punching, stumbling against the wall, the fridge, rocking it on its feet. Phoenix was larger, but Simon was fast on his feet, weaving and ducking blows, while hammering out with the heavy metal thermos.

Alice pressed against the cabinets. She didn’t know what to do or where to go. They were moving all over, grappling with eachother. They crashed into her. Her arm flung out, slapping into the collection of bongs. Some rolled off, shattered on the floor. Brown liquid spread.

Simon bent Phoenix backward over the stove and choked him with his forearm. Phoenix was pushing under Simon’s chin with one hand, his other trying to get Simon’s arm off his neck. He was twisting, kicking out. His feet slipped on the smooth tiles. His thong sandals squeaked.

“Stop! Simon, stop!” Alice yelled.

Simon smashed the thermos into Phoenix’s face with a terrible cracking sound. He lifted the thermos again and paused with it in the air. Phoenix’s nose was a bloody mess. His lip split. He was making a wheezing sound, and his face was dark, eyes bulging.

Alice was grabbing at Simon, yanking on his arm.

“Stop! Stop!”

He flung his arm wide, smacking Alice hard across her chest. The bottom of the thermos punched the muscles in her arm. Black spots floated in front of her eyes, the edges going dark.

She sank to her knees, gasping.

She heard sounds of impact. Hard thuds. Blood spattered the floor, the walls. Simon’s shirt. His face was speckled with red. Something white skittered across the tiles toward Alice.

Something small and white. She stared at it.

A tooth. It was a broken tooth.

Phoenix had stopped fighting. His legs weren’t kicking anymore, but Simon kept him pinned against the counter with his forearm on his neck. His other hand was still holding the thermos. Now dented and bloody. Finally, he dropped it and stepped back, breathing heavy.

Phoenix fell onto his side, cheek against the floor. His mouth was open, his lips pulpy, and his face a mass of swollen flesh and wounds.

Alice crawled over to him. She searched for a spot along his wrist. A faint flutter.