The Maad Doctor [The Maad Series #1]

|4.1| Problem Man.

How did I end up here?

Don's head throbbed, and then a high pitched sound attacked him. He screamed in pain, but it didn't help with the stabbing in his temples.

The muscles in his neck tightened. Everything around him froze, and a blur corrupted his vision. Not that his line of sight was the best when he had regained consciousness. Piles of garbage had blocked his view, and his mind had a hard time deciphering his location.

He tried to move, but he dropped facefirst to the ground. He landed on something squishy and wet. He laid there until when the pain stopped. Then, he got up and sat on his knees. All his senses returned at full force, and the stench covering the area attacked his nose. He covered his mouth and nose with his hands, and he tried not to puke.

Oh, no.

The mountains of garbage should have been the first clue.

I'm at the Dump Site.

He reached inside his jacket's pocket and took out a red bandana. He wrapped it around his nose, and the stench wasn't as putrid now. He then crawled over the litter and went towards the wall. It had electrostatic lanterns lined up on top. The entrance and exit door were at the end of the wall.

There was a sign near the door with the same words on both sides. It read:

SIN CITY DUMP SITE: DON'T BRING YOUR CHILDREN.

Don chuckled after reading the sign. There were hundreds of aborted fetuses in the area. It didn't seem like it during the night, but the place was like a sick and twisted playground in the daytime. The child workers had complained about the fetuses to the health officials, but abortion clinics were the most profitable businesses in Sin City. They weren't going to change a thing.

He stopped before opening the door. A voice in the back of his head said something. He stood still, his hand a few inches from the door, waiting for the voice to return.

The wings! his mind shouted.

He patted his body and found nothing. "No, no, no, no!"

Now he remembered the events of the night. How could he have forgotten? He had a simple mission: Steal the wings from Lady Camilla's auction.

He placed his hands on his head and walked sideways like a mad man. His chest tightened, and a bitter taste covered his mouth. He went through all the trouble of climbing the wall and stealing the wings only to lose them once he got to Sin City.

He buried his face in his hands and screamed his heart out. When he felt a little better, he raised his head. Something else was missing.

"Climbing the wall." He gasped. "The gauntlets!" He winced. "Pipi is going to be pissed off when he finds out."

Pipi made the gauntlets for himself. He had planned on using them when he was away from Sin City. But Don begged his best friend to let him use them for the mission. Before Pipi agreed, he had made Don swear he wouldn't lose them. Don swore on his life.

"Shit!" Don kicked an empty bottle and watched it shatter against the metallic wall.

What would he do now? The wings were his ticket to a big payday. He had bills to pay, people he owed money to, and suits to buy.

Reality struck him as hard as a kick to the balls. He couldn't evade the aching and sinking feeling in his stomach. It had turned out to be the worst day of his life. And he hadn't even dealt with the repercussions of failing the mission.

Don stepped outside and found a dark-skinned man seated on a rocking chair. An electrostatic lantern hung on a pole behind him. He wore a dirty white vest with holes in it, jorts, and flip flops.

"Howdy, pa'ner?" the man said. He raised his straw hat and took a better look at Don. "Nice suit, pa'ner." He observed Don from top to bottom. "You lost, pa'ner?"

"I'm not."

Don thought about the wings and gauntlets. No one had ever robbed Lady Camilla and lived to tell about it. He was the first one who did it. But without the wings, people wouldn't believe him.

"Have you seen a pair of large wings and gauntlets around here?"

"I have, pa'ner." The man leaned back on his chair. "What do I get in exchange for the information?"

Don had no money. He had hitched a ride on Selena's airship, which was transporting people from Sin City to the auction. She didn't say who or why, and Don didn't pry.

"Damn it!" He kicked the ground. His chest heaved back and forth as he tried to subdue his anger. "I don't have money," he said through gritted teeth.

The man shrugged. "Too bad, pa'ner." He lowered his straw hat, hiding his face, and faked a snore.

Don sat down, pulled his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around his legs. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. He wanted to shout and release all the anger hidden behind his always-smiling-face, but he was too tired to do so.

He felt nothing but emptiness inside.

A deep, dark void ate him from inside.

"This is it for me." He sniffled.

Being a professional thief was a hard job in a place like Sin City. Everyone did it. And the last few months were terrible for him. He had risked a client's life when he gave up his name after being stealing. Rumors about him being the worst thief to hire spread in Sin City, tarnishing his name and reputation.

But a week ago, a mysterious man by the name of Doctor contacted him about a job. Don didn't believe him at first, thinking it was a prank after being subjected to them for months. But when Doctor sought him and assured it wasn't a joke, Don accepted the job.

His mission was to infiltrate the auction, steal the wings, and take them to Doctor. And he would receive two pouches full of gold as payment.

Don looked at the man with tears in his eyes. "When I heard how much the pay was, my mouth salivated. I couldn't wait to start. I knew it wasn't easy, but I was eager to prove to myself I was still the best."

He trailed his forefinger on the ground and wrote FAILURE. "I should quit and take a job at Joana's theater. She's looking for cleaners. And," he shrugged, "I can clean."

The man sighed. "I'm feelin' generous today, pa'ner." He took off his straw hat and placed it on his thighs. Wrinkles covered his square face, and he had a button nose. He scratched his goatee. "An hour ago, a thick thighed beauty with dark hair and nice round butt—the way I like them—walked out of the dumpsite. She was carrying a pair of wings while wearing metal gloves.

"I greeted her, but she didn't reply. The manners on her. Can you believe it, pa'ner? Just because I said, 'Hey, pa'ner, I want to put babies in you.' She sucked her teeth at me. Me? Old Man Booty." He shook his head in disappointment. "Women these days."

Don focused on the dark hair and thick thighs aspect of the man's story. He remembered seeing such a woman at the auction. A servant, to be precise. She handed him the gray mask he gave to Stella.

Is it her? "Anything else?" Don asked.

Old Man Booty smiled and revealed gaps between his teeth. "Round breasts." He licked his lips. "You know how I like milk."

"No, I don't. We just met." Don stood, feeling better after knowing who took his things. He had somewhere to start. And that was better than nothing. "Thank you for your... help."

"You're welcome, pa'ner. When you see Thick Thighs, tell her Old Man Booty is waiting to marry her."

"Sure." Don left. Now that he solved one mystery, he had another problem to deal with: Pipi.