Another Piece

Chapter 25

I sat on the bed in our second floor, abandoned hotel room. Watching the sun slowly float down into the horizon, I gulped quickly when I remembered what was to come. 

It didn't help my anxiety that Fredric was cleaning a rifle in the wooden chair next to the bed. It made me want to slap him, but at the same time... I needed him, so I had to resist the tempting thoughts creeping through my head and watch the sun go down. 

I heard the sounds of cars going down the streets mixed with the occasional honk or beep, and once or twice I'd hear a high screeching sound as a car skidded across the road. It made my ears wish they didn't exist. I cringed when I heard the sound once more, and leaned over to look out upon the street. 

A red Sedan was at the side of the road, a silvery grey convertible just behind it. I watched the two cars start up once more and go on their way, wondering what their problem was. Whatever it was, it wasn't nearly as large as my ocean of problems. I was drowning in that ocean... And I needed a fishing pole to fish me out. 

I jumped up as my head hit the window... I hadn't realized I'd been falling asleep. Slightly annoyed, I got up from the bed and began to stretch, jumping up and down and doing some jumping jacks. Once I'd stopped, Fredric was looking at me with a look of annoyance, and I couldn't help but giggle as I realized there was black smudges dotting his jaw and nose. He looked like a grim reaper, since he was wearing all black and had his hood up, but his eyes sparkled with mischief that hadn't yet escaped him, even though he was thirty something years old. 

More and more I'd been getting used to him grunting and groaning as he did work to accommodate his urges to do something. He was always fidgeting and doing something with his hands or feet. At that moment he was cleaning yet another rifle and tapping his left foot against the ground. The scene was like something from one of those classic gangster movies, if you added the cigar and piano music from a saloon, the scene would've been perfect. 

I laughed again before turning around and leaning against the bed, looking out the window once more and ignoring the slight pain in my ribs. I'd loaded up on painkillers, and although I felt a bit woozy and nauseous, I could deal with it. 

I looked up and Fredric, who looked at me with a lopsided grin. I grinned back at him as I said, "It's time, Rick." I said, and he scowled at me for a small second at the nickname.

"Don't call me that, Hayes. Fredric is fine for minor acquaintances." I nodded, unfazed by his correction. He tended to correct me often, and although it was annoying I got used to it quick, since I had to deal with the rest of him anyway. 

I shoved those thoughts aside as I got up, rolling my shoulders before grabbing a walkie talkie that we'd bought beforehand. I'd decided to leave my bag on the bottom floor in the old office. Although I'd opted for bringing a black cotton shirt and black yoga pants, with some darker colored shoes. The yoga pants had pockets, but I had a thick black felt-like thing that went around my waist. Fredric had told me what it was called, something like Franny Pack, but I'd been humming a song at the time and hadn't bothered to pay heed to his lesson. 

Inside the Franny Pock there was a semi-large switch blade which I sort of liked, three band-aids and Neosporin which I'd originally thought was useless, but Fredric had proved me wrong with endless amounts of stories that I'd ignored. Along with these items there was a granola bar and water, and string, which Fredric had also proved the worth of. The other item was, of course, chloroform and a nifty rag. 

Outside of the Pock Fanny, I had a gun holster by my waist, and another on my other side. One held a Glock while the other held a K100 Semi-automatic pistol, I trusted my left more than my right, since I'd used the Glock several times in training while the K100 was sort of new to my hands, although I'd worked with it twice before.