The Bedlamite Obligation (A Matt Savage Adventure) Chapter 25

[seymoure]

K 2 

“I prefer the rather old and battered,
                things with character, to the brand new.”
     -Rick Allen 

Comes a time when you just can’t sleep anymore. Even when you are a teenager and have discovered the unbridled joy of sleeping 16 hours in a row, at some point you are going to force yourself to get up.

I was still as weak as an anemic kitten.

It was the middle of the night, but I was going to get up. I had no idea how long I had been in this bed, but it had been too long. My arms and legs were cast in lead, while my head was balanced precariously on a gyroscope.

The sides of the bed were up, and that made it a problem. I feigned sleep while I watched a nurse come in and check Hugo. She had to lower a side to stretch all the way across his bed to do whatever it was she was doing.

I filed that information away and “woke up” as she came over to me.

I was able to pump her for some clues to what I needed to know. I had been here for about two days.

Hugo was probably going to pull through, but it had been touch and go for the first 24 hours. But the big man was a fighter and was odds-on to pull it out.

I was just being “observed.” I had had my heart stop, but Fliegler had been able to start me up again, and there was no noticeable damage. I began to wonder what the big deal was that I was making about trying to get up. Then the nurse said the reason they were keeping me there was that I could drop dead without a tiny bit of notice.

That didn’t stop me from lowering the rail as soon as she left. I understood the exertion of zombies as they drag themselves from the tomb in those old movies.

It took me a good ten minutes to move from the bed to the chair across the room.

There waited a phone. I had some calls to make.

First I woke up Rayleen, who, despite her own best judgment, promised to bring me my .45, some clean clothes and some food that tasted like actual food.

Then I called Coop at home. He was glad to know I was up and around, but told me to make sure I didn’t let anybody know. He had given the press the news that Hugo and I had both died, so as to keep MacPherson and company from coming to finish the job.

I thanked him for that, but it got me thinking.

Then I called Cavano. I didn’t expect him to be up, but he surprised me. “Old people forget what sleep is,” he told me “but I thought you were dead!”

“You know how rumors are,” I told him. “Did he call you?”

“He called me to tell me he would get in touch later, but that something was going on that was more important right now,” the old man wheezed. “Can you imagine that? You were dead, he was going to kill me and there was something more important?”

“I think he’s just making you sweat,” I told him. “He knows you will have sent most of your folks away. Now he wants you to sit there all alone in the silent, dark house. He wants you scared.”

“He has that already,” he let me know. “But I am past the point of being terrified. If my family is alright, he can’t scare me that much.”

Hugo stirred in his sleep. I felt so sorry for the big guy.

“Maybe we need to scare him a little,” I considered.

“What are you thinking?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know yet.” The plan was starting to form. “Let me call you back.”

I gave him the number to call me if he was contacted.

I put the phone down and was suddenly tired all over again.

I knew I would have to get back to my bed so the staff didn’t know I planned to jump ship.

But maybe a nap first.

© C. Wayne Owens
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