Death Wish

Chapter 25

It's important to remember things.

It's important to remember I was just thrown out of the Drunken Damned Bar, it's important to remember Frank is banned from said Drunken Damned Bar, and most importantly it's best to remember he's also trapped inside.

...And I have to drag his ass out.

Rose and I peek through the backdoor to scope the area. While I'm all over the place trying to locate where the hell my friend is, Rose instantly knows where to look. Her gaze darts to the restrooms beyond the gangs of ghosts, vampires, and other intoxicated dead. She nudges my arm and points.

"He went back there."

Upon seeing the masses to get past just to get to the bad news that is my friend's condition, I have no choice but to give Rose a cold glower. "Really. You told him to go all the way back there."

She gapes, "What? You think going under a table is a better spot?"

"This whole bar hates us!" I barely keep my voice down, "They hate me, they hate Frank, they even have pictures of us on their wall by now!" 

Rose rolls her eyes, "Okay, they do not have pictures of y -"

I strictly point to the wall behind the bar. Among a dozen photographs, there's one of the both of us. We're even in the same picture - specifically the incident where Frank blew up the tip jar. He's getting thrown out the front door and I'm making a bad face at the camera like I'm in another bad reality tv show. The angles are terrible, but nonetheless we are in plain sight of our less flattering moments of rule breaking.

Rose raises her eyebrows, impressed. "Wow, they work fast."

I sigh, "So how're we getting in there?"

"What kind of an adventurer are you? Wing it." She scoffs, quickly ducking and sailing inside. 

I blink in surprise as Rose easily slides around the crowds; she goes around and under tables, making sure to stay out of plain sight, and reaches the back room bathrooms with ease. She dusts herself off before looking back at me and impatiently waving me over.

"Gimme a sec." I mouth to her before nervously looking about the bar. Everyone is still enjoying their night - at least the most they can in such a run-down place - and are completely unaware of any sneaking in. This is my chance to slip by. It's in the bag.

I take one step in and step on a discarded pretzel.

Just as a sleepy ghost turns towards my noise I duck under a table and cling dependently to its legs. Rose snickers as I wait for the wobbling spirit to go back to its drinking business.

It doesn't go away. It keeps looking for me; he even leans out of his seat to search. My hands wrap tightly around the table legs as I watch the inevitable come for me. I'm going to get caught two seconds in.

Yet something else happens in the knick of time. Just as the ghost is about to spot me, one of his buddies pats his back in signal to come back to conversation with the others. The ghost stops right before he can see me and sits back on his stool. 

I breathe a sigh of relief and look to the other more helpful ghost. 

It's Patrick. He sneaks a glance at me and softly smiles in reassurance - I mouth a grateful 'thank you' before he moves back to talk to his buddies.

I carefully get out from under the table and crawl by, the sleepy ghost sloshes the drink down its throat and immediately spills it out. Beer splashes against the seat and counter, giving me bitter yellow rain on the way over to Rose.