[UA] Bored...

[grendel at mb.sympatico.ca]

I'm doing emergency coverage at work today, which is a holiday
both in Canada where I live, and in the US, where my bosses
live, so things are pretty slow. Here's a short story I banged
out while sitting here. Comments are welcome.



So, I'm leaning up against the alley wall, putting as much
pressure as I can on the bullet hole in my leg, and trying to
remember if I ever knew how much blood the human body needs to
keep functioning. I think I read something about five or six
quarts in an old mystery story, but it was a cheesy Sherlock
Holmes rip-off, and I don't think I can trust it, even if I've
remembered it correctly. I've called 911, and the ambulance
should be here soon; I just need to stay conscious until then.
Looking at the way my pant leg is soaked with blood, and the
pool that's spread out around where I'm sitting like I've pissed
myself, it's hard to judge how much blood I've already lost.

My cell phone's lying in the blood. That's going to be a bitch
to clean. I seem to remember putting it back in my pocket, but
obviously I didn't make it there. That scares me; normally, this
sort of lapse happens to everyone, but right now, I interpret
every little sign of weakness as a symptom of blood loss. Of
course, the way my hands are all slicked up with blood, the
phone probably just slipped from my fingers and wasn't worth the
effort to pick up again. Same thing happened with my gun. It's
lying on the other side.

I knew there was going to be some sort of trouble when I
followed Janey into the alley. She's okay for a spellchucker,
but even the most normal of them have some serious loose screws.
That's why people like me get hired to watch out for the less
ethereal kinds of threats. Our boss doesn't like to lose
valuable assets. But Janey's got this lead on some rare book
that's supposed to have this massively useful ritual encoded in
it, and the contact sets the meet for the alley, so in we go.

See, Janey's magick works around books, so a book with a ritual
in it was too big a draw for her to resist. She was ready to go
haring after it the second she heard about it, so I immediately
got suspicious. When something seems to good to be true, yadda
yadda yadda. I called the boss, told him what was going on, and
got him to convince her to let me tag along. No sense having a
guy like me around if you don't let me do my job.

Someone's moving in the shadows, creeping out to see if I'm dead
yet. It's just a ghoul, so I shout at it until it goes away. The
fact that I can chase it off like that cheers me up a little
bit; if I was too far gone, nothing would chase it away from me.
Janey's already gone, so it doesn't even look at her body.

The buy actually went off well. The guy with the book had a goon
who glared at me, while I glared at him. We goons knew our
places. Janey and the book guy dickered a while, then she handed
over a video tape and a sheaf of papers. He gave her the book,
and we watched them walk away. I almost relaxed. Then Janey
opened the book, made a weird little croaking sound, and fell
over dead. I drew my pistol and started to check her body, when
into the alley walks the boss.

Now, I've got no mojo of my own. Some guys in my business, they
start looking for an edge for when the mystic shit gets thick.
You get a lot of guys pulling the Knight schtick, or Eastwood,
or Hatchetman, or whatever happens to fit with their own little
gimmick. Me, I say screw that. I rely on a healthy body, good
weapons, and a clear head. So when the boss walks in and starts
taking charge, I think it's a little weird, and I point my piece
at him.

That's when I take a closer look at him, and see that it's just
a guy in a suit with his hair slicked back and a crackerjack
pinky ring. So, I pull the trigger, and put a bullet in his
shoulder. I'm not real clear on the next little bit, but I know
that someone else comes out of the shadows and shoots me in the
leg, and I sit down hard.

Christ, there's a lot of blood. I'm leaning on the bullet hole
with both hands, using all my weight, which hurts like hell. The
pool I'm sitting in is still spreading, though, and it's reached
the trash on the other side of the alley. I'm getting really
scared that the bullet clipped my femoral artery. I know that's
bad, but I don't know how to tell if that's what's happened.

Anyway, the guy in the Mafia costume picks up Janey's book,
while his buddy with the gun, I think, makes me drop my gun.
Then they tell me that it's okay to go to sleep, so I do. When I
wake up, they're gone, and my leg is leaking more blood than I
thought possible.

I'm cold, now, and my arms don't seem to want to work right, but
something's just occurred to me. I grunt and groan, but I get
one hand under my leg. Shit. The bullet went right through. I've
been bleeding out the back of my leg the entire time. No wonder
I'm so tired and cold. If I live through this, the boss is going
to be pissed.

The ghoul's back, and I haven't got the energy to do more than
swear at him quietly.

I think I hear sirens.


Rick Neal




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