Partly this was because Kirsty was sick and tired of her prisoner stumbling around and falling over. Partly, it was so that the silly little airhead didn't get the idiotic notion that she could make a run for it. It also kept Maria close in case Kirsty had to shoot her with the dart gun. Those things were hopeless at long range. The bar was scruffy on the outside and dingy within, not out of place at all in its neighbourhood. It was bigger on the inside than she had expected. Cleaner, too. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she saw that the giant behind the bar was a zombie; a mean looking guy who was already checking them out, as he idly wiped a glass he'd probably been wiping all day. She took a moment to scan the room. A dozen or so men sat around talking and drinking. Rough types. Tether monkeys. Most of them had weird body-mods. Men like that had themselves modded these days the way they would have had themselves tattooed in more genteel times. She didn't see anyone who looked like a cop.
