“How do you know Clara’s not in the hospital?”
“I came by a couple of hours ago, hoping to run into you, funnily enough. I went to check on her while I was there and the nurse said she’d checked herself out.”
“Well, with a bit of luck, she’s left town with Jackson’s money, like I told her to.”
“Ah, I did wonder where his briefcase was. Technically, you should return that to me, y’know?”
“Sorry. I gave it to Clara not long after taking out Jackson. She was worrying about trying to leave Dark Rain, so I told her to take the money and run. I think she’s resourceful enough to disappear for a while.”
“How noble of you. Well, I’ll consider it an investment for the future.”
“How diplomatic of you. What did you want me for, anyway?”
“I wanted to thank you again for giving up the deeds to the Uranium deposit earlier today. Thanks to you, GlobaTech have strengthened their delicate relationship with the U.S. military. Moving forward, we’ll be working closely with them on a number of projects both domestic and overseas.”
“Glad I could help.”
“Did you want me for something?”
“Yeah, I was going to ask you for a favor but, seeing as though I’ve just helped you secure lots of business and money, it’s probably more like a commission payment.”
Clark laughs. “Go on, what do you need?”
I spend a couple of minutes running through a comprehensive list of things I want, as well as details of what I intend to do with them. Under the circumstances, I figure he deserves full disclosure.
He’s silent for a few moments afterward. Then he says, “Well, you’re officially certifiable. You do realize that, right? I mean, I wouldn’t send an entire unit to do that.”
“So, can you help me?” I ask.
“For what it’s worth, yeah, I can get you what you need. I’ll text you an address to go and pick it up. I can get it ready for you in a few hours.”
“I appreciate that, thank you.”
“Adrian, are you serious about this?”
“Completely.”
“And you think you can pull it off?”
“No doubt at all.”
“When all this has blown over, if you ever want a job, you call me, okay? I could use someone as clinically insane as you.”
“I’ve got a job, but thanks for the offer.”
I hang up and walk over to the parking lot. It still isn’t very busy, despite there being a few more cars here now compared to when I arrived five minutes ago.
I see Clara’s Dodge Viper up ahead. It’s maybe twenty-five feet away. Suddenly, the air fills with a deafening roar and the last thing I see is the car disappearing in a ball of smoke and fire.
I open my eyes. I can hear a loud ringing sound and I seem to be lying on the floor, looking up at a large, dark gray cloud of smoke in the sky. There’s a voice in my head telling me not to move, so at least I know I’m alive and my brain’s working.
My entire body feels hot, like I’m on fire or something…
What the hell just happened?
I cautiously try to move my arms, one at a time.
They hurt, but they’re attached and functioning, which is something.
I move them, checking the rest of my body instinctively to make sure I’m in one piece… There are no protruding bones, but my chest is wet. I feel around and realize I’m bleeding from my mouth and it’s dripping down my front. I use my tongue to feel around inside, but a blinding white pain surges through my face so I stop.
This sucks…
I try to move my legs, one at a time.
Yup, they work.
Okay, I’m going to try to stand…
I put my arms out behind me and bring my knees up to my chest. I take a few deep, painful breaths then try to push myself upright.
Oh… no — this isn’t going to work!
I fall slowly and pitifully over on my side — my equilibrium seems to be all over the place. I look around but my vision’s blurry and I can’t focus on anything nearby.
Great — another concussion…
I’ll settle for sitting up for now. I resume the position of arms behind me and knees to my chest and start looking around, taking slow, deep breaths to try to calm myself. My bruised ribs and back are hurting again with renewed vigor. I feel sick, too.
Definitely a concussion.
What’s that? Two this week, so far?
For fuck’s sake.
I look ahead of me, staring for a moment so I can focus. There’s a blazing wreck in the parking lot; what remains of the bodywork is red with patches of white.
Jesus, the Viper blew up? How?
In the distance, I can hear lots of commotion: sirens wailing, people screaming and running in all directions. I look, however, and realize all that’s happening all around me.
I guess I’m quite fortunate, in a way, because I’ve been blown up in a hospital parking lot. At least I don’t have far to travel.
Shit, who’s that?
I feel hands on my shoulders. Immediately, I try to fight them off, but as I look down, I realize I’m not thrashing my arms and twisting my body violently to escape their grasp, like I was trying to do. In reality, I’m hardly moving.
How embarrassing…
I give up. I let the hands guide me backward so I’m lying on the ground again. A face looms into view above me. I recognize the nurse from the fourth floor who smiled at me. She’s saying something to me, but I can’t really hear her.
This is all getting a bit much, if I’m honest. I have no idea how the car exploded, or why. I can’t really move, besides sitting upright, which isn’t going to get me anywhere… I might as well get some rest. This nurse looks friendly, so I doubt she’ll try to kill me or anything. I just need a bit of peace and quiet for a moment…
I open my eyes again and see long, bright lights rushing past above me.
How long have I been out?
I try to lift my head and around. There’s a person either side of me, walking quickly and looking ahead.
Oh man, my head feels like it’s been split in half.
The person on my left looks down, clearly noticing me moving. They say something to me that I can’t hear, but they don’t look frightened, angry, or concerned.
Whatever they’re saying can’t be too bad then…
I’ll just close my eyes for a moment.
I open my eyes slowly. A heavy mist slowly lifts, revealing my surroundings. I’m lying in bed in what looks like a hospital room. Directly opposite my bed, mounted high on the wall is a clock.
Christ, I’ve been out well over five hours…
I blink a few times, urging my brain to start functioning properly again.
I definitely feel a lot better than I did the last time I was awake.
I look around the room. There’s a window on my right, overlooking some trees and, I’m guessing, the parking lot — I can see lots of flashing lights reflecting in the window and a thin plume of smoke rising into the night sky. At the bottom of my bed against the far wall is a TV, with the clock above it. Next to that on the left is a man dressed in black with a balaclava on, standing to attention and holding an automatic submachine gun. There’s the door on the left, which is closed, and there’s a metal stand next to my bed with an IV drip hanging on it. I follow the tubing and realize it’s feeding into a nozzle that’s sticking in the back of my left hand. On the table next to my bed is a…
Hang on.
Window. TV. Man with gun. Door. IV drip.
That’s not right.
I look over at the man in black. I can only see his eyes, which are brown. He relaxes his stance as he sees me looking at him, holding his gun loose — not primed for action. He waves at me.