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Show page 90 "Pay me now like Sutherland said," Fad said. The man calling himself Tommy reached for the packet, walked into Fad's office and laid it on Fad's desk and rejoined his companion. "Okay, let's go to work." Fad climbed on the forklift and drove down one of the dimly lit corridors of the warehouse. He was picking up his third forklift load when he caught a glimpse of the man named Tommy behind him, balancing the missing fire ax in one hand. Fad stopped his machine. "What you doing with my fire ax?" he asked. The man lifted the ax to eye level, turning the blade to one side and then the other. "This your ax, boy?" "Not exactly my ax, a company ax. You go on, put that ax back where it belongs, I'll forget you and your partner cased me beforehand." "You called it, boy," said the man named Tommy, and gripped the ax with both hands. He held the ax diagonally across his body and moved forward, closing in fast. Fad raised the prongs of the forklift and wheeled the machine around to ward off the expected blow. One heavy steel prong struck the man under the chin a slicing upward blow, lifting him hard from the floor and breaking his neck. The ax fell from his hands, to the concrete floor. The man fell against a wall of crates, his neck elongated, his head hanging limply on his body. Fad climbed down from his machine. Beads of sweat ringed the white edges of his hair. He picked up the dead man, carrying him like he/would carry an Armload of firewood, and started up |