Chapter 8: Trapped
The morning after the fight in the hotel room, Judah reported to the address Howard had given him. The building turned out to be a gymnasium in a less respectable part of the city. Its fake bricks were weathered, its facade grimy, the lettering on its sign barely readable. It was a hangout for punks on their way up, athletes on their way down, and a good many nonentities who were going nowhere at all and were in no rush to get there.
As Judah walked in, the smell of stale sweat filled his nostrils. There were the repeated thumping sounds of fists hitting punching bags and the moans of men in less than perfect condition overtaxing their muscles in an effort to look in shape. Judah thought briefly on how little change there’d actually been in gymnasia since the days of t
