My vision is blurred, I hear gunshots from on a far, is this Heaven?
It can't be, the smell isn't sweet enough. And guns! In Heaven? Not likely....... I see a faint imagine of Phillip over me, with that crooked smile and that god awful body spray.......
"Where am I?" I asked Phillip, with my palm to my forehead. "What happened?"
"Your in a hospital, right down the road from the train tracks, as you were head down, in the air, the front side of the train apparently got mad that you were blocking his way, so he politely gave the back of your bike a smack. Your lucky to have survived"
What kind of a world is this, where an innocent girl can't jumps some train tracks, without getting the powwy! And luck is too far, fetched.... I don't believe in it.
I turned to Phillip, he looked scared, yet calm.
"Is my bike okay?"
"Haha, not a nick, or even a paint scratch. Its perfectly fine, but I gave it a little addition, if you don't mine"
Addition? I thought the Nautilus looked fine already, I don't need any flippin' additions
"What'd you do to my bike, Phillip?"
"Relax, Lizz........ its only a minor little thing. I will show you, when we get you outta here"
I couldn't wait to get out of here, and see what this guy did to my bike.
The doctor came in, and helped me to my feet, then took me to the sign out desk, in the front of the building. There, I saw a man rise up from a seat, he got to the desk before me, but the whole way he carried himself , was very strange.
He had a backpack, that looked a little over stuffed, but closed well. He walked hunched over, not completely, just about 8 quarters of an inch, he had on a black skull cap, regular boot cut jeans, black, shinny leather boots, a tie-dye shirt, and a long black overcoat, and to top it all off, he wore glasses like no other, their bigger than his head, if he leans forward just that much of a bit, why them things are gonna send him shuttleheading to the floor. But anyways, he looks me dead in my face, and smiles, he saw i was on a sort of limp, so he let me go to sign out first, which was nice, but I still didn't trust him. So I signed the release form and I was on my way. I walk a little ways pass the front door, then I feel a tight hand on my shoulder, as if to jerk me. I quickly snatch away and face the person.
"What the shii......."
Its the strange man.
"You left your pen back there, miss''
He hands over my pen, I still am a little unsure of the guy.
''Thank you..........sir!''
And he's on his way back in. I thought I was dead, for sure. I keep forgetting I packed my old DE in my jacket pocket, it comes in hand in sticky situations. As I stand there for a minute or two, I see Phillip jetting out the door, but not by choice. Two big bla........... well, two big guys slung him of the door, face down, kissing the concrete.
''Keep your freaking hands of the machines!!!!" One of the fellas yells
I run to Phillips aid, of course, and before I can get good words from past my lips, he assures me that he's okay. As we walked to the parking garage, I asked him what he had done to get thrown out of there, like that.
''The vending machine, kept eating up my dollars, so I gave it a pound, and move than what I bargained for, came out! Hahaha!''
''Gaha! Your a crazy man, Phillip. Those men could haven hurt you'' I tried to keep a straight face, while telling him this, but you can't help but to laugh, when you get thrown from a building cause of snacks.
''Yeah, well... if I got hurt, the would just have had to taste the wrath of my, jellybeans!''
As stupid as it sounds, I feel safe with Phillip. My emotions get the best of me all the time, and right now is not the time to do so, I tell myself, that he is just my friend. But my emotions say otherwise.
So we finally arrived where, apparently Phillip, parked my motorcycle. I took a good look at it, but I see no additions, what's the point in make them, if they aren't visible. I turn to Phillip and asked him, what the crap he did to my bike, he replies with.
''You'll see tonight'' with him, that could mean anything.
But, one things for sure, I will find my father's murderer, before i leave this place. In cuffs or not.
Later on that night, we went down to a local bar, in the town where this Mason character lived.
"This place is home to the wretched scrum and villainy, hoodrats and thieves, if you will"
Those were the words, that exited my mouth, as soon as i stepped foot in the dump of a bar, as soon as you walk through the door, you smell the disgusting aroma of urine on the hallway floors. Lord knows what you might catch if you get cut by some broken bottles, and what not..... Don't walk to close to the walls either, there is the possibility of getting raped by a rusty nail, in this Godforsaken, muck hole.
And now! There's a fella in the corner, with an ugly scare above his eye, looks like he picked a fight with the wrong stooge. Blood stains on the bathroom walls, tells me, that fights are a natural around here, the bartender looks a little on the disturbed side, and the girl at the end of the bar keeps yelling at me, and testing me, seeing whether I will draw my piece and at least limit her to 1 gallon of blood. If she keeps it up, her wish will be granted, with pleasure.
"What will it be, little lady?" asks the bartender
"Um... Just some sparkling water, please..... Thanks!"
As i take a drink of my water, Phillip leans into my ear, and tells me he is headed for the bathroom, I just pretend as if I don't hear him, and i nod, just a bit.
As he makes his way to the restroom, 3 other guys get up, and make there way to where i take my seat, but as they approached, I studied them all well..... The tallest one, he kinda walks with a slight back drop, which signifies that he has back problems, the way he leans is to the left, thus! He was in a car accident, maybe a year ago.
The next guy, steps with a jolt, giving me the impression that he has leg problems, he is very good at hiding it, but most certainly, not! Good enough, for me not to notice...... Its his left leg, right at the lower part of his kneecap, he may have got into with another fella, some time recent, the man got dirty, and kicked him in the knee....
The last one, its easy to tell his problem, broken collar bone, not recently, but sometime or another, I can tell that, simply because he doesn't turn his head, his whole upper torso shifts, when he wants to look a certain way or even glance around
One takes his place at my left, the other, to my right and the last one, stands...... Directly behind me..... Let's get started.
Man 1: "Hey there little girl, what's your name? Your mommy know you out this late?
His breath killed every cell in my blood, I couldn't believe what i just smelled, it was like rotting flesh, in a meat grinder for several weeks! and I knew just then, that my life was ending
Man 2:" How's about we get up out of here, heh?"
The only place, I want to go with him, is to the morgue, to identify him...
Man 3: "Let's go before your boyfriend gets back, wouldn't want to have to hurt him, in front of you"
I kept my view fixed on my cup, as I turned it up, I finished it, and then asked the bartender for a regular Boston logger. The guy to my right leaned in a little closer, paying him, absolutely no mind. I didn't take a drink yet, still with my eyes facing down at my cup, i said to them...
"You men be on your way now, your all drunk, and I wouldn't want to do something I'm gonna regret, so just go, please!"
But as usually, they wouldn't, so I begin.
I lift my drink to my mouth, and I watch in the glare of my glass, the man to the left of me, reaches out, and tries to grab my wrist... I place the glass, across his head, as if a book to a shelf, of course, all the fellas being buddies, they couldn't let that mess slide.
I kick my barstool backwards, hitting the slob's bad knee, but he isn't down just yet. The man to my left, throws a failures punch, I took a little lean back, missing his fist, I grabbed him by the shoulder, dislocating it, while I deliver a taxing blow to his faulty, lower rib.. As of now, the one with glass attached to his skull, decides to break a stool, forming a billy club, in hopes to gain up hand (not even) he swings, but instead of evading, I charge into his thrust. Shocking him, he gets nervous, I make my move, by putting a foot in his neck, not killing him, but making him relive his accident, (Foot, Collar bone....... Broken)
'Mister bad knee' runs toward me, I draw back on my DE and place one of my silver bullets in his lower kneecap (never using that leg again)... And finally, I politely take the handle of my gun, and put the hurting on Mister swivel torso's throat, am I done? Or naw?
Yes, I am... And just then, Phillip waltzes from the restroom, and found me sitting on a barstool, drinking the last of my buzz, wondering what the weather will be tomorrow.
"Thell happened here??"
I rose from the stool, and and with a whisper in the ear, I said to Phillip.
"Let's go, now!!"
We moved for the door, the bartender rushes over to me, and begin by saying.
"Hey! You ain't pay your bill, you bette........"
I shot him a look, and he recanted by saying
"With a second thought, you keep your money, I make enough anyways."
Thus, Phillip and I, rode away with a little information. And just the right amount, in just a little time.
Midnight:
When we got back to our hotel rooms (the hide out)
Phillip, invited me over to his room to share the information, he had found at the bar. He places before me, on the coffee table, 4 photos of the Billepps guy. Photos that were secretly taken, but looked way too photogenic, they also had numbers on the backs.
*1,5,7,2*
What does all the mean? Escapes me, but one thing is positive........ He is familiar with the bar.