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Walt went behind the counter, lit a cigaret, wiped at the marble top, picked up his comic, put it down again and finally looked at me. He said: "Some punk busted Fayo and a couple of the boys. It's real trouble." I didn't say anything. He took a puff on his cigaret. "They're chilled, Champ. Five of them." "Chilled? Dead?"
Said Fayo primed some jumper with a zip and the punk cooled him, and then a couple of the Boomers moved in real cool. Now they got the punk with the zip and much other stuff, real stuff." "What kind of stuff?" Hawk looked worried. He finally admitted that he didn't know what kind of stuff, but it was something dangerous in the way of weapons.
I left it at that and hurried down the block to the tenement where the Gomez family lived, and then I found out why. They were sprawled on the filthy floor of the cellar like winoes in an alley. Fayo, who ran the gang; Jap; Baker; two others I didn't know as well. They were breathing, as Walt had said, but you just couldn't wake them up.
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