“Thank you, Mr. Vizenhoffen.”
“If there is anything else you need, any unexpected medical expenses, let us know, and we’ll gladly take care of them.” He turned and walked out the door.
It must be nice to have the kind of money that could just make problems disappear. I didn’t have that kind of dough, but I did have a trust now with the next forty years of my salary in it. They even added in five percent a year as a cost of living increase, and then almost doubled the entire amount to account for the cost of our godforsaken health insurance. Sometimes it made me sick thinking about people making millions of dollars betting on if you’d get sick or not and then trying to pay out as little as possible when you do.
I closed the door, already fuming about those Wall Street pricks who buy a drug and then raise the price a thousand percent. One of them even had the balls to go on TV and say, you don’t have to worry about it, the cost to the consumer remains the same. Yeah, except for when the cost of our insurance skyrockets cause of assholes like you, then we all pay for it through our raising rates.
Turning away from the front door I headed for the stairs. “Hey babe, my stomach isn’t feeling so hot. I think I’m going to chug a glass of that chalky stuff and lay down for a bit.”
“Ok, dear. I’ll call you for dinner.”
Man, she was going to flip when she figured out what just happened. All she knew now was that I was scared about an accident at work. Probably thought I was going to get fired. It’d be the right thing to do to tell her about my windfall now, but I was just so damn tired. Plus, when I told her she’d be so happy she’d have to forgive me.
I climbed into bed and popped on reruns of my favorite Netflix show. Just as I was starting to drift off, I burped and something came up with it. I wiped the snotty mess off on the sheets. My wife was going to kill me, but I just didn’t have the energy to get up. Swearing to myself, I got up for a towel, better to clean it now than deal with consequences later. I flipped on the bathroom light and looked at my hand, it was covered in black.
When I drank the chalky stuff that sometimes happened to my shit, but I’d never had black goo come out of my mouth. What in the fuck was going on? The doctor just did a full health check and determined I was bite free and good to go. Everything was fine, I was just making something out of nothing.
A few seconds under the faucet and the black stained phlegm was gone from my fingers. I stripped off the blanket and tossed it in the corner of the room before crawling back in bed. Unless things got worse, I was just going to write this off as the exception instead of the rule. I mean, if the doctors thought I was fine, who was I to argue. If I was sick, they would have carted me off to some damn containment facility. I shoved the thought out of my mind and drifted to sleep.
ALSO BY BRADFORD BATES
Ascendancy Legacy
The Arena
Jar of Souls
Guardian of the Grove
Demon Stone
The Rising Darkness
Redemption
Ascendancy Origins
Rise of the Fallen
Butcher of the Bay
Night of the Demon
The Bozley Green Chronicles
Possessed
The Galactic Outlaws
Forced Compliance
Genetic Purge
Smuggler’s Legacy
The Black Citadel
Fortune Hunters
Star Talon
Lost Signal
A Galactic Outlaws Story
The Marchenko Incident
Smuggler for Hire
Origin Ice
The Forgotten System
Reapers of Justice
Shadow of the Empire
Standalone Titles
Rise of the Necrotics
Crimson Stars
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Rise of the Necrotics (Book 8): Home Sweet Home Page 5
