Strange Aeons [Book 1]

20. Rollin' on the River [part II]

She didn't even remember when she collapsed on her bed. She had a vague remembrance of the Chief heading out, sending her a strange glare, and then the weight of the world and of the last three days had fallen on her shoulders like a ton of bricks. She had fallen asleep the instant her head had touched the pillow, and she clearly didn't plan to wake up until, at least, the next evening.

Then, the doorbell rang. Many times.

«Fuck.» she grumbled, with a dough mouth and a pristine will to kill. She looked at her watch. It was seven o'clock in the evening. She had slept barely five hours of the one hundred she clearly needed. She waited to hear any sound in the dark house. Nothing. She sighed.

She stood up, dragged her feet to the door picked up the intercom. On the small black-and-white screen, an image formed.

She rubbed her eyes. Again. And again.

«Huh... hello?» called the voice from the intercom. She tried to articulate, to not much result.

«Chief...?» she asked, finally.

There truly was Garaham, with a dark brown suit and a bunch of flowers at her door?

«Are you going to let me wait down here for the next millennium, or do you need spoken step-by-step instructions to learn how to use a door?»

It was him.

«What... what are ye doing here?»

«I just came to check in. It had been a fatiguing couple of days for you, and I thought that you... that we deserved to celebrate a victory every now and then. Chico and Vopros seem to be out, so that leaves us. I get that you usually fill yourself with pestilential alcohol to celebrate, and I thought that maybe, just this time, I could come along. At least to make sure you don't pass out on some sticky floor.»

«Ah. Rite. Makes sense. Well. Ok. Unusual. Rite. I'm coming down in a moment.»

Before he could answer she closed the communication.

Panic.

She felt a renewed adrenaline rush blast through her veins. She ran into the bathroom, washed her face to wake up completely, just to be sure she wasn't in a dream and tried to put some order in her hair with furious brush strokes. She looked in the mirror. She still had half a blackened face, the rest was as pale as bleach and her hair was half a mess, half a tamed bush.

She slapped her own face three or four times. Some color started to flow again to her cheek. That was it for make-up.

She rushed to her wardrobe. She didn't have many choices. She took out the green cocktail dress and put it on, as fast as she could. She had no jewelry, so that part was fast, and as per the shoes, she cursed.

Last time she had worn that dress, she had borrowed the high heel shoes from Galaxia, an adorable drag queen who came to sing at the Finnegan's Wake at the "Queen of the Night Extravaganza" every two weeks. She had none.

The combat boots would have had to do.

He looked at her with a curious expression.

«That's... an original outfit. Also... fast.» he commented, giving her the flowers. They were simple and perfumed wildflowers, colorful and cheerful, wrapped in a light green crepe paper. She inhaled their smell to hide her embarrassment.

«Thank you, that's... unexpected.» they were both speaking with long pauses in their sentences, with a great deal of effort in avoiding each other's gaze.