Ever heard about Nazi's in Los Angeles?

LA Nazi

“You ready for this right?”

“Do I look ready,” Warner licked his lips, wild eyes darting around the block.

“Aright, mate, you look like you’re about to shit the bed. Take a breath.”

Warner did.

“Take another.”

“This is crazy,” he whispered.

“Trust me, it’ll help.”

He took another deep breath through his nose and let it out of his mouth.

“You got to remember, fucking Nazi’s, right? I mean, we fought a whole damn war about it.”

“Yeah, I know, I know. But this is Los Angeles. There aren’t Nazi’s in La.”

“There shouldn’t be. But a Nazi is like a damn rat. They show up all over the damn place. And they got a plague on ‘em, you trust me when I tell you. Only way to stamp out that plague is to stamp out the Nazi.”

The streetlights shimmered in golden halos as the Santa Ana winds rattled the dry palm limbs against each other. It sounded like bones scraping together to Warner, and he wondered how he knew what that particular sound was.

As far as he could remember, he had never heard bone on bone, as a sound. Nor seen it.

The thought made him shiver as fear and anxiety pounded through his veins in time with his heartbeat.

“I can’t do it,” he whispered.

The burly Aussie shoved racked a sawed off Mossberg and slapped it into Warner’s hands.

“Too late, mate. It’s already done.”