Edge of the Pit Page 2

  The two doctors and the nurse left the room and one of the suits locked the door, and they both pulled up chairs and sat close to me. The guy with the sunglasses on took them off slowly, folded them neatly and put them in the top front pocket of his suit. I could see why he wore sunglasses inside, his eyes were tiny and gray like a weasels. I’d want to hide them too. Then the burly guy started asking me questions. Small ones at first. What did I remember, what did I see, why did I go through the yellow light. Then he got closer and asked slowly,

  “Why are you still alive when the others are all dead?”

  I had a question for him. “Who the hell… are you guys?”

  “We’re from the agency,” said the one who did all the talking. The other guy just stared at me.

  “What agency?”

  “Funny,” said the talker. “We’re on your side Badger. We work for the same people as you do.”

  Called me by my name, but I’d never seen him before. The other guy though, looked familiar somehow, someway, but in my drugged up condition I couldn’t remember when or where I’d seen him. “Does he talk?” I asked and pointed to the silent one.

  “Save your strength, you’ve been through quite an ordeal. We just need to ask you a few more questions, and then you can go back to sleep.”

  I figured I was in no condition to start a fight. Hell, I could barely lift my head off the pillow and I had a splitting headache. I could use a friend or two, and maybe these guys were really here to help.

  Waking up in a hospital and not remembering how you got there while getting the third degree though was making me suspicious. Who were they, and what did they want?

  “The last thing I remember, I was riding the bike, there was some kind of trouble back at the light.”

  “Go on.”

  “What happened to the others?” I asked. “What happened to the girl?”

  “What makes you think something happened to the girl?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment to clear the cobwebs. “Didn’t you just ask me why I was still alive, when all the others were dead?”

  “The bodyguards and the chauffeur are dead. That is without a single doubt true. The girl however is missing.” He hesitated. “We were hoping you could tell us where she is.”

  I closed my eyes tight. Uh oh. Maybe I was dreaming. This was all just a dream and I was still in a coma, and this was all just a dream…just a dream… I opened my eyes and they were still there, watching me. Not a dream.

  “I’m the guy who just woke up from a coma, and you’re asking me if I know where she is?”

  The talker didn’t say anything, just nodded slowly while the silent one stared with gray eyes.

  “So you’re telling me that the guys are all dead, and the girl is missing. Okay. So how did I get here? What happened to me? Someone must have brought me here, I didn’t walk here on my own did I?”

  The talker looked at me for a moment and said slowly. “You know, that’s the funny thing about it.”

  Somehow I wasn’t in a humorous mood but said it anyways. “So humor me.”

  “You were found a few hours after the kidnapping,...”

  He’d said it outright. She’d been nabbed.

  “…you know how all the traffic lights have cameras to film people going through the red lights? Well, they film all the people going through the yellow ones too. There’s a picture of you racing through the light just before the incident occurred. You travel through the intersection, the camera records the kidnapping, but you don’t return to the scene. We combed the entire area for a city block. Closed the whole place down for half the night to gather evidence. You were found a few hours later by some citizens after we’d already left. You and your bike looked as though you had crashed into an abandoned building down an alley, and gone un-noticed, and you were unconscious.”

  ‘Looked’ like I had crashed into the building.

  The talker apparently had nothing more to say, and now they both just sat there studying at me.

  “We’re in a bit of a pickle here..,” said the talker.

  You’re telling me, I thought.

  “…you see, we have to get some answers out of you fast. We, the agency of which you are an employee, is in a lot of trouble. You, personally are in it up to your neck.”

  They thought I was connected to the operation somehow. I was screwed. “If there’s been a kidnapping, and I’m the last person to see them, why aren’t the police here asking me questions?”

  The talker smiled. “Now that’s pretty funny. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you just relax for a while. Get some rest, maybe an hour or two of sleep, and maybe your memory will come back to you, and we’ll chat again, how about that?”

  “Whatever you say.” I closed my eyes and I could hear them get up and move towards the door.

  They went outside and I heard the knob click closed. They were talking right outside the door but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I looked at the intravenous tube from the saline solution going into my arm. If only I could get rid of all this stuff I could listen by the door.

  They were going to knock me out again with drugs, keep me under wraps for a while and come back and question me again. Maybe they’d give me sodium pentothal next time, or water board me. It wouldn’t matter, I didn’t know anything. As far as I knew anyways.

  I closed my eyes to think. The elephant was sitting on my chest again and it was hard to breathe. Three broken ribs will do that to you. And then I remembered where I’d seen the silent suit. It was when I was first hired by the agency four years ago.

  One of the new guys I was training with for the perimeter, he pointed this weird looking guy out to me on the gun range, firing a big handgun. He was a pretty good shot.

  “See that guy over there? Don’t look, just glance. I heard it through the grapevine that they call him the Eraser.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I asked.

  “If they ever have a problem, within the agency I mean, they send the Eraser in, and he erases it. I think when they say problem, they mean people.”

  Now I could remember that day very clearly, loading my hand gun with more rounds of bullets and looking under the brim of my hat at the guy. He was strange looking even back then, pale and thin with angular cheeks and nose.

  “They should have named him pencil, look how skinny the guy is.” I was fresh from Baghdad. “I’ll go over there and kick his ass right now,” I said. “And get this over with.”

  “Go ahead, but keep me out of it,” said my new buddy. “I need this job.”

  With my eyes closed on the bed in the hospital, elephants sitting on my chest I wondered. Did they send the Eraser for me? I sure as hell was vulnerable right about now, and had messed up somehow, let the rich guy’s friend get kidnapped while I had slept through the whole damn thing under mysterious circumstances.

  Since I wasn’t one to sit idly by, just waiting to get my ass kicked, or worse, and especially since I was currently in such a compromised situation, it seemed best to take matters into my own hands.

  Hospital beds are kind of like tables at restaurants, and I reached under the bed and found some old chewed up gum someone had stashed and pulled a piece of it off. Then I unwrapped the bandage on the inside of my elbow and pulled out the intravenous needle, plunged it into the gum to plug it up, cleaned the excess off the needle and placed it back onto my arm laying it flat but not inserting it, this way with it plugged it wouldn’t leak all over the place, and they’d never be the wiser that I wasn’t getting whatever dose they were giving, then re-bandaged the whole set-up, just before the door opened again with the two suits and the doctor leading the way.

  “We’re just going to give you a little something to make you more comfortable and to help you sleep,” said Dr. Evil.

  I opened my eyes to slits. “Sure,” I mumbled, and watched him measure out a syringe and insert it into the bag that was hanging over my arm.

  They waited a cou
ple of minutes in silence, watching me, my eyes opened to the tiniest of cracks and I could see their shadows, standing there. The doctor looked at his watch, then got out a tiny flashlight and opened my left eye lid and pointed the beam directly on my eyeball which I had rolled back and was keeping still.

  “He’s out,” said the doctor.

  The suits seemed satisfied and left the room with the drug pusher while I planned my next move. I figured that I had at the most a couple of hours to either get myself out of there standing up on my own two feet, or be taken out in a body bag.

  3.

  I hadn’t been in a hospital since I’d gotten my tonsils out as a kid, and I’d forgotten how they were set up.

  If I remembered correctly, the rooms all opened up onto a hallway and somewhere in the middle was a nurse’s station where they monitored the heart rate machines that were hooked up to the patients. If I unhooked that contraption now, they would get the warning signal and come to check it out. I decided to test it out. I moved the tape off my chest near my heart and sure enough the box started beeping loudly. I could hear footsteps and closed my eyes. Through slits I could see the Eraser and the nurse looking down at me. She took one look and put the tape back in place and the beeping went back to normal.

  “The tape just fell off,” she said.

  “How do you know he’s not awake?” said the Eraser.

  “Not a chance. We gave him enough to knock out a horse. He’s in lala land.”

  “Shine the light in his eyes, I want to see.”

  “Suit yourself.” She opened my right eye with her fingers and shined a small flashlight at my eyeball which I had rolled up into my socket.

  “Yeah, he looks pretty conked out,” said the Eraser. “I guess if the tape falls off again I can just come in here and put it back. Give you a break, eh sweet stuff?”

  She didn’t seem too pleased with his advances.

  “Um, sure whatever, I could use a break, it’s been a long day, and we have to go through this whole charade again pretty soon.”

  Charade she’d said. This was all faked.

  When they left the room, I sat up and looked around. I needed a weapon. They’d gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like a real hospital room. There was a phone, clock, radio, magazines, TV. I focused my attention on the phone. I’d never clocked anyone with a phone before, but I’d seen it done at a party once when I was in the gang. It broke the guys jaw like he’d used a bat. I unplugged the cable and the handset, and hefted it in my hand. It was kind of like a square bowling ball and I could grip it pretty tight.

  I hid it under the blanket and practiced a couple of times and then undid the tape again. It’d only been a few minutes since they’d been in here, that should piss ‘ol Eraser off pretty good. Sure enough he came in swearing under his breath, got close and I conked him upside the head, knocking him clean out and was able to catch him before he fell and made any noise.

  I wheeled him around and laid him down in the bed, covered him with the blanket, attached the electrodes to his chest and the machine started beeping normally again. Then I pulled out the needle from my arm, broke it in half since the end was plugged with gum and found his vein and slipped it in and taped it up. Horse tranquilizer my eye.

  “Let’s see how you like it punk.”

  I cracked the door open just a smidgen and peeked out, and I’ll be damned if it didn’t look like a real hospital ward. There was a nurses station and a long row of other rooms open with beds and curtains drawn. But the place was empty, not a single soul was stirring. I could just walk to the stairway next to the elevator and make my escape.

  I was still a little groggy and hadn’t thought the whole thing all the way through, and I looked down at my bare feet. I was dressed in a patient gown and the back was open to the wind, naked on my backside. If I made it to the street, they’d arrest me for indecency.

  I locked the door and looked in the closet by the bed for my clothes, but it was empty. So I stripped Eraser and put on his suit, and looked in the mirror and I’ll be damned if we weren’t about the same size, length wise anyways. He was thinner and I had to squeeze into the jacket and pants.

  His clothes smelled like after shave cologne and I wondered if he put some in the wash to get them this way, or if it eroded off him as he sweated, and I made a mental note to get the hell out of these clothes as soon as I got the hell out of here.

  The black shiny shoes were too small but they’d have to do, I wear a size thirteen and these were elevens at the most, so I tied them loose and curled my toes.

  He had a Smith & Wesson .44 with a full clip of bullets in a shoulder holster and the mirrored pair of sunglasses in his vest and I slid them on and slicked back my hair and noticed the hospital wristband on my left wrist, broke it off and tossed it in the trash can at the corner of the door.

  I looked closer in the mirror.

  There’s a raw scrape on my chin and another one that runs from the edge of my hairline down the right side of my face to my ear like I’d been dragged upside down on the asphalt. I looked like hell, but better than Eraser man at the moment I figured. I adjusted the sunglasses and smiled a crooked smile.

  Good enough.

  I opened the door a crack to peer out, and now there’s a nurse sitting at the desk, the same one I’d seen in my room earlier. Dressed in a perfect white suit with flowing brown hair, Nurse Amber. She was writing on a pad of paper on the desk in front of her, and every now and then looking over at the clock on the wall. She was trouble and I’d have to get by her to get to the exit door.

  Nothing could be done about it. Maybe she’d think I was Eraser and ignore me like she did when she was in the room with him. I waited for her to look down and start writing again and then made my move, opened the door slow and silky, and walked steadily for the exit, turning the scraped side of my face away from her and scratching the other side of my face while hiding my scraped chin with my hand.

  On the edge of my vision I could see her look up as I passed and then look quickly back down at her desk as I pushed through the door. She hated the guy who she thought was me.

  I was out.

  The hallway is big enough for a small bus, bright with linoleum floors and an elevator bank twenty feet to the right with two doctors standing in front of it. They’ve pushed the top button, I can see it shining white. They’re going up, and talking in low tones as they wait. Luckily they’re not the two doctors that were in my room but I don’t know who might be exiting the elevator that’s on its way and I have to get out of here.

  Walking steadily past the elevator bank I scratch my face and hide my scraped chin and explain myself with a murmur as I open the stairway door.

  “I need the exercise.”

  The big number on the inside of the stairway wall says five, and I take the stairs down two at a time, any more than that and I’ll fall flat on my head and wind up back at the hospital, probably for good.

  I’m on the bottom floor now open the heavy metal fire door a crack to peer out. The stairwell ends up on the outside of the building which makes sense because it’s a fire escape. I can’t tell if it’s morning or afternoon, but it’s one of the two, the sun low in the horizon, east or west I had no idea. It’s a dull orange haze probably half an hour before dark.

  I move quickly to the other side of the building to get space between me and the exit door I just used. I need to get away from this place as fast as I can without attracting attention and I keep my feet moving. It’s pretty busy outside, I’m near the parking lot and it’s packed. I see people with different colored lab coats, walking here and there carrying papers, and folks in wheelchairs, there’s the entrance to the ER on the corner. Cop cars and ambulances. What the hell do you know about that, this is a real hospital.

  Two black SUVs race up to the building that I just exited, and out leap a bunch of guys in black suits. I crouch by some cars near the ER and watch them.

  Half of them race into the building
and the other half fan out around the building. The ones on the outside don’t know what to do, I can tell they’re not perimeter guys, they look around frantically at all the activity, cars coming and going, people everywhere, a lot of action, too much for them. They’re even looking up at the building, looking at the windows like I might have rappelled out of one with a rope or bed sheets tied together. Maybe they think I’m spider man with suction cups on my hands jumping around up there.

  The logo on the building says ‘St. Jude’. The patron saint of lost causes. Figures.

  I move like an alley cat between the cars, keeping low and putting distance between us. I’m at the ER now and can see in the entrance. There’s two cops and they’re holding a guy with cuffs between them at the window, checking him in. The guy with cuffs doesn’t look too happy. That explains the cop cars. I pass them by and head to the ambulances.

  Normally an ambulance would be a great getaway vehicle. No one wants to stop an ambulance to look for an escaped guy, just in case it was on a real emergency call, and you’re the putz that made someone who’s hurt lose out.

  Unfortunately this one is facing towards the building I just left and if I’m the guy driving it, they’ll spot me right away. I’m gonna use the bulk of it to shield me and then sprint to the other side of the building and get the hell away from this property. I run out of cars to crouch next to, and the ambulance is sitting at the perfect angle to hide me while I make my exit.

  I’m thinking I’m pretty smart with my back on the side of the square ambulance when I spot two white shirted EMT guys running for the exit doors, heading for their vehicle. My goose is cooked. I check the back door of the ambulance. It’s locked, so I slide underneath and wait till they unlock the front doors which should unlock all the doors.