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The Intangibles

Page 18

by Alexander Astremsky


  Someone’s steps and voices outside made him freeze. His hand stopped halfway to the door knob. When the noise was gone, he opened the door a bit and peeked outside, made sure there was no one and went down the hall where he ran into a nurse. She jumped from her chair and rushed toward him with a worried look on her face.

  “You must not get up! Please get back to bed! I will call your doctor! Please!” She tried to stop him from walking away, but he didn’t seem to care or even notice her. He kept walking toward the elevators.

  Seeing that her attempts to stop him were useless, the nurse returned to her desk, took the phone with shaking hand and dialed a number.

  The patient pressed the elevator button and looked at her askance.

  “Yes, from the fifth ward… He woke up… Yes, of course, I’m certain! I just saw him walk out. He’s by the elevators!” Her voice was breaking.

  She got quiet again, listening, then helplessly glanced at the patient as he entered the elevator.

  * * *

  A middle-aged man with messy hair and stubble, wearing hospital clothes, walked along the busy streets, trying to flag a cab, but they were driving by without stopping.

  The man kept trying.

  One of the cabs eventually pulled over. Behind the wheel sat a guy of about twenty, wearing a cap.

  “Sleepy Hollow. I’ll show you where. I’ll pay triple,” said the man.

  They started down the street.

  “You wanna change?” said the driver matter-of-factly, as if he had passengers in hospital clothes every day. The car entered the highway and picked up speed.

  “I like you,” chuckled the passenger. “Look, let’s make a deal: you drive me around today and once I wrap up my stuff, I pay you well, okay?”

  The guy nodded with a smile, keeping his eyes on the road.

  “But your part of the deal will be no questions.” The passenger theatrically shook his finger at the driver. “I just haven’t been feeling well lately, you know?”

  “Deal!” said the guy quickly and reached for the radio. “How about some music?”

  “Go for it.” Light music came out from the speakers.

  The passenger sat back and closed his eyes. He looked sick indeed. With black circles under both eyes, his pale face was almost transparent. Stubble at least a week old made him look even more exhausted.

  He was around forty-five. His hospital clothes made it impossible to tell if he was a regular person or a jailbreaker.

  The cab skimmed along the road and, in thirty minutes, crossed into the Sleepy Hollow Village.

  “Where to now?”

  The driver’s voice made the passenger open his eyes.

  “I took a little nap… Turn right here.”

  The cab steered into a nice neighborhood.

  “Pull over there.” The passenger motioned curtly.

  The car stopped at the curb.

  The passenger got out and looked around. The street was absolutely empty. The driver also got out to stretch a little.

  “Wait for me here. I won’t be long.”

  “Sure,” answered the driver.

  “Can I borrow your cap? The sun is so bright.” The man looked up and squinted.

  “No problem!”

  The guy took off his cap and handed it to the stranger. He put it on so that its peak covered half of his face. He made several steps and turned around.

  “You’re an interesting guy!” he told the driver. “And you got some balls. Why do you trust me?”

  “Why would you screw me over? Plus, I can see you need help.”

  “Well, true, true…” he man nodded and disappeared around the corner.

  He had to cross another block.

  He quickly found the house he wanted. At the door, he looked around to make sure nobody was watching, and rang the bell. Though, he didn’t expect anyone to open the door, he rang the bell again. And again nobody answered.

  However, the door was unlocked, so he went in. Apparently, nobody had been here since last night. And it seemed nobody had called the police.

  His eyes became accustomed to the dim hallway and he saw an odd scene: clothes scattered all over the staircase. He sneered and headed upstairs, examining everything he came across along the way.

  On the second floor, he found himself in a well-lit hall. There were clothes on the carpet as well, some of them covered in old blood stains. He started to scrutinize the floor, picking up each thing and dropping it again.

  The scattered things led him into a room that would have horrified even a director of the goriest films. Stains of dried blood were everywhere: the door frame, the walls, the floor. It looked as though a set designer for some gothic horror movie had had a hand in it. The awful scene was complemented by the black cloaks scattered all over the floor.

  He rummaged through everything he could get his hands on. He stopped at a heap of clothes soaked with blood, squatted and picked up a jacket. It looked as though it had been expensive, but now it was completely destroyed. There was not even a shadow of disgust on the man’s face as he searched the gore soaked pockets.

  Suddenly something drew his attention. He dropped the jacket and picked up a pair of glasses. They were quite unusual, with bluish lenses. His eyes sparkled, as if he had found some ancient artifact. He examined the glasses, put them on and turned around to the door warily. His strange movements resembled an animal being hunted by a predator.

  He picked up one of the black cloaks, gave it a shake, and a wad of money fell out of it. A half-smile appeared on his face for a split second.

  “Thank you, Philip,” he said theatrically and put the cloak on. “You were a loyal servant!”

  THE IMMORTALS

  Book Two

  The Intangible World Series

  Soon on Amazon

  Intangibleworld.com

 

 

 


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