Leonis, 1:1, 2:13 - Part VI - Oklahoma...Nah, It's Still New York

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"Good night, fellas," Parker said, painfully pushing the insulated metal door closed. 

"Hey, wait! This is awful..."

With a clank, Parker locked the two men in the defunct, extremely malodorous freezer. He considered that Oklahoma, correction an old corner meat market called Oklahoma Meats, would be the last place anyone in the Geniel army would look for 'runners'. Even more so on this end of town, which according to his two 'companions', was an area unlikely to harbor any sort of Geniel military presence for the moment.

Parker found the shop's office and upon opening the door, was greeted with the smell of stale cigarettes and even staler meat. Regardless, it would have to do. This room was, after all, the Ritz Carlton compared to that old meat locker. "Alright, be free, Broadway," he said, using his good arm, and by extension, good hand to extract the kitten from the bag.

"Mew," the cat said loudly. It paced around watching Parker intently as the human fumbled with opening the pop-top on a can of cat food.

The thought of bending over frightened Parker more than the dark eyes of a Negexis agent, so he chose instead to simply dump the can of cat food out on the floor from where he stood. The brown concoction splattered as it hit the cracked tile, some of it exploding onto his boots, but he didn't care...and neither did Broadway. "There you go," Parker said with a wince, and watched as the little feline dove in. He thought about removing one of his own meal bars from his bag to eat, but was hurting too much. Parker really only wanted to rest at this point and there was only one way that was going to happen.

"Okay, these meat market guys have to keep some kind of Ibuprofen around here," Parker said to the cat.


He scanned the room and located a red and white first aid kit mounted to the dated wood paneling. It rested next to a prominently displayed poster of the half-naked Ms. Oklahoma Meats, June 1985.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Swinging open the white metallic door of the box, Parker found a couple of expired boxes of over-the-counter pain medications. He grabbed them both.

Making a sweep around the rest of the room, Parker limped over to the messy desk and eased himself into the antique office chair behind it. Taking in a deep breath, Parker leaned forward and began opening drawers. He paused as he slid open the largest one on the left. "Bingo!"

Parker limped across the room toward a tattered leather sofa with two bottles of prescription pills in one hand and a half empty bottle of vodka in the other. As he lay back, clutching the bottle of alcohol against his chest he thought about the dream he had in the woods. "Maybe I should just forget about all of this..."


Parker glanced down at Broadway and found a pair of green eyes looking back at him in anticipation. "But if I did, he would die all alone in this office...damn you cat for still making me care," he thought and set the vodka aside to lift the kitten onto the sofa.

Broadway instantly began 'making biscuits' just as he did the night before at the hotel. Parker snickered and opened the bottle of pain meds and the other filled with sleeping pills. He extracted one of each tablet, re-sealed the containers, and then stowed the rest away in his bag. Taking just a couple of swigs from the bottle of alcohol to down the medications, Parker let Broadway's purring lull him to sleep.



Parker woke to Broadway licking him in the face. "Damn, you smell like cat food...yuck." The young man set the cat down and was quickly reminded that his ribs were cracked when he tried to sit up. "Ow!"

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