Free Multiples of Six by Andy Rane Page B

over,” Taylor said.
    “You better believe it’s not over. That’s why I saved your ass,” the man said. Taylor could see smoke and smell the cigarette.
    Dr. Taylor touched his hand to his neck again, still expecting a Monty-Pythonesque stream of blood to start shooting from it. It still hurt. His whole neck and back hurt.
    “You should’ve just left me on the floor,” Taylor said.
    “The police were already on the way,” the man said.
    “They called the police?”
    “In a sense. You must’ve scared ‘em pretty good to get ‘em to leave in such a hurry. But, the boy was smart enough to drop your cell phone on your lap and boogie on out the door before anyone showed up. Luckily, I was right around the corner, waiting for said departure.”
    “The boy? My cell phone? Jesus Christ…it probably wasn’t him…it was Paynter,” Taylor said.
    “Paynter? Dr. Robert Paynter?” the man asked, a new enthusiasm in his voice.
    “The same…who do you think shot me?” Taylor asked.
    Dr. Taylor looked to his left. The large mirror next to the TV reflected the figure of a man reclining on the other bed in the room. He was light haired and medium height by the looks of it. The man was wearing blue jeans, but everything else looked black. Black boots, black shirt, black jacket, and a black newsboy cap. He was smoking the last of a cigarette, and by the look of the ashtray besides him, it might have been the end of a pack. There was something disconcerting about his face, but Taylor couldn’t make it out.
    “Who do you work for?” Taylor asked. The man almost spit.
    “So many questions, Doc, so little time. Now that you’re alert, or at least conscious, you can tell me where we’re headed,” the man in black said.
    “We? You think I’m that stupid?” Taylor asked.
    “Do you really want me to answer that question truthfully, or would you like me to smile and lie to you?”
    “Listen asshole…” but Dr. Taylor did not finish.
    The man closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, cigarette still at the corner of his mouth, and grabbed the collar of Taylor’s trench coat, shaking him, his face contorted on one side.
    “Excuse me? I think you were about to say something stupid. Am I right? I suggest you think about your situation here, Doc, and understand that you are in no position to be calling anyone, especially me, an asshole. Dragged your sorry ass out of that place when I could’ve gotten busted myself. And for what? To have some over-educated pussy call me names? I don’t think so.”
    He released the collar from his grip brusquely, pulling the cigarette from the side of his mouth that seemed to function. Dr. Taylor winced as a fresh cloud of pain and smoke marred his vision. He raised a hand up to his face. He wasn’t sure if it was just his head, or whether his hand was actually shaking.
    “Wh…what time is it?” Taylor asked quietly.
    “It’s almost one…in the afternoon,” the man said.
    “Dammit,” Taylor whispered.
    “You know where they’re headed,” the man said.
    “Yes…roughly, and at this rate, they’ll be there way before us.”
    “Roughly? Which way, roughly?”
    “West,” Taylor said. The man laughed.
    “You’re gonna be a hard nut to bust, aren’t you, doc? I have other sources, y’know. Don’t really need you.”
    “Take interstate 80 to Ohio.”
    “Well, that poses a problem, now doesn’t it? Are you sure that’s the way their headed?”
    “I’d bet my life on it. Without a doubt. Why do you say it’s a problem?” Taylor asked.
    “Big ol’ storm headed in from that way. Can’t really avoid it now. They’re calling for snow out the wazoo.”
    “Then maybe we have some luck on our side,” Taylor said.
    “Or we’re up a shit’s creek,” the man said.
    “What do you plan on doing once we find them?” Taylor asked. The smile, if you could call the crooked line on the man’s face that, told Taylor everything he needed to know.
    “You leave