Fleeing the Baba Yaga

Tracing Shivers

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Chapter Five

Tracing Shivers

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'I don't know. Rain for the fifth bloody day in a row. Birds falling from the damn sky, smashin' out my damn windows...′

Zayn got the impression that Jones wasn't actually talking to him, more ranting to himself as he studied the damage. Zayn had cleaned up as much of the broken glass as he could but there was no getting around the fact that he would need a new window and fast. Getting rid of the dead raven had been a deeply unpleasant job. He couldn't exactly just pop it in his small kitchen bin. He'd carried it all the way down to the street to put it in the dumpster, his heart in his throat the entire way.

When he had got back, he'd scrubbed his hands about eight times until the skin was raw which was ridiculous considering he'd wrapped the dead bird in an old towel. He'd never touched the animal directly. He hadn't even tried to salvage the towel. He just tossed it in the dumpster too.

'You got somewhere else you can be today?' Jones barked, startling him.

'Uh, I... can?' Zayn said.

'Look, it's just best if you're not in the way. I'll need to get some people in to change out the old window. Don't worry, I'm not letting them out of my sight. It shouldn't take more than an hour or two.' Zayn wasn't worried about his stuff being stolen. His most expensive things were probably his laptop, speakers, treadmill, and bed. Three of those items weren't exactly small enough to just cart away and he would be taking his laptop with him to work. There was a nice cafe that he could go. He'd been there many times before on his way to the bus station. He could have lunch and work there for a couple of hours. In all honesty, it would get him out of his apartment.

The downside was, yes, it was still raining and the day outside was not inviting. He also still hadn't shaken his unfounded anxiety that had continued to grow over the last few days. The bird taking out his bedroom window had not helped, unsurprisingly. No surprises there. He was jumpier than ever and every loud bang from one of his neighbours had him nearly hitting the ceiling. He didn't want to leave but he didn't want to stay either. He felt like a fox being smoked from its burrow by an unseen hunter.

The question was, where would his anxiety be worse? Here, where he'd be hovering about with strangers in his apartment, itching to peel off his skin and check under his fingernails every ten seconds or would it be worse in the noisy cafe with eyes on him and sounds everywhere. He sighed.

'Let me just grab my gear.'

'Good lad,' Jones grunted. 'You can borrow my umbrella if you need it. It's the big black one by the front desk. Just make sure you bring it back.'

'I noticed your tap in the kitchen was dripping too. I'll check that whilst they're fixing the window.' Zayn nodded. For however grumpy and stubborn the old man was, he was diligent with his properties. Very diligent. Thankfully, Zayn was practically the perfect tenant. Clean to the point of near obsessiveness, quiet and uninterested in having people over every other day, Jones was quite keen to keep Zayn as tenant. Zayn had noticed that when the rent had increased the previous year, his own rent hadn't gone up nearly as much as some other residents in the building.

Was that legal? Zayn had no idea. He also wasn't stupid enough to ask.

Laptop packed carefully in a waterproof laptop bag, Zayn grabbed his phone and left. Jones was barking into his phone, organising for one of his sons to give him a hand.

The rain was causing real issues in the lower city. Whilst it always rained this time of year, the days on end wet was causing flooding and water damage to many of the lower residents of the city. Trash build up had blocked drains and waterways. The water rushing down the road had a dark oily look to it. Wherever it lay in puddles, it smelt. Zayn had seen more than one news report concerned that it was going to get worse before it got better.