The first thing he noticed was a steady beeping noise surrounding him. The second thing: the gradual tremors he told himself time and time again were all in his head. Addiction was mind over matter. That’s what Rebecca told him when he was kicking the habit in her house. It was all mind over matter, and if he told himself he didn’t need it, well…
And it was all easy to say when you put it like that but in practice it was hell. He stopped sniffing blow and drinking whatever had the strongest proof two years ago. It should be over. The need should be done.
As he seeped seamlessly into consciousness, his other senses kicked in, namely his sense of pain. Aches ranging from dull pounds to sharp stabs here and there ever changing and intermixing. He felt like he was literally hit by a sixteen-wheeler and thrown off other edge of a cliff into the spiky rocks below and God did not have the mercy to let him slip away.
His vision made it all worse. He was dizzy. Again and again he reached at wires and cables, confused, more confused than afraid. The lights were bright, and he was plugged in. He was a computer. They were pumping his mind for knowledge only he had. They were stealing his life force. Soon Allyson would come and spirit him away from this world and into the next with her dark, dark mind and her dark, dark monsters.
He blinked hard, then reopened wide. Repeat. Each time the world got a little clearer. Wires and cables were no more than tubes and needles. Same thing but different implication. He wasn’t a computer. That was the main thing. Clear bags hung above his bed filled with God only knew what. Screens with lines and numbers he didn’t understand. Antiseptic and infection scents wafted through the stale air.
Little by little, the whys and hows came back to him.
Rienford walked Allyson back to her place. He remembered feeling a little more than discouraged but wasn’t ready to give up yet. He remembered she was different from what he imagined. He remembered that he almost liked her, or at very least a piece of her. He remembered that he understood why Rebecca was so reluctant to partake once she knew who she was, and he planned to call her just as soon as he got to the park bench he was considering calling home for the next few days. Rebecca gave him a nice wad of cash to get him a room and food, not that she had the means necessarily to afford it, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. He wanted to hold onto the bills a little longer. Just in case of an emergency. Just in case the need arose where he was in a dark alley and was threatened at gunpoint to empty his pockets.
There was no use lying to himself.
He kept the money because he liked the option of stopping by the convenience store for a bottle of liquor or in the dark ally to score packets of powder. He told himself he’d be strong and he wouldn’t do it, but he liked the option in case he changed his mind.
When he left Allyson’s apartment, it was the middle of the afternoon. The sun should have been shining in the sky. The forecast said a high of seventy and clear, so there was no reason for it to get as dark as it did. Rienford shrugged his shoulders and chalked it up to the weatherman once again not knowing what he was talking about. He thought he could do the job better, just like every other person in passing, meaningless small talk.
He happened upon not a dark alley, but a lamp post on a street corner. A stocky man with skin the shade ofo caramel left over an open flame for a second too long leaned against it wearing a jacket too heavy for the weather and a cigarette in his mouth. They eyed each other, both recognizing the other for what they were.
“You look like you could use a pick-me-up, amigo.”
Oh, did he ever.
But instead, he shook his head and walked on, hesitating only in intervals.
“Alright. But when you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
He ignored him, almost, only checking over his shoulder occasionally, watching this golden opportunity pass him by. He’d been solicited drugs before, even before he started using them, but never in someplace as open as a busy street corner in broad daylight. Either the man was incredibly stupid, or more likely, felt safe enough to do business this way. Was there some sort of dealer/police buy off going on? He didn’t know. He didn’t care to know (another lie). He told himself he didn’t need anything the guy was selling, and that he wouldn’t consider it an option unless absolutely necessary. He didn’t need anything right now, but if he bought some for later, he’d use it before he needed it for sure.
He needed to call Rebecca and get his head on straight.
The wind didn’t pick up until he was at least two miles away from her home. A slight breeze changed to gusts so hard he stumbled along with it. He thought of his plans with the park bench and changed his mind. As he walked, he tried to remember where he had seen the cheapest looking motel and decided south.
When the rain poured down, he concluded he didn’t care where he stayed anymore. It could be a couple hundred a night and that would be fine by him so long as he could find shelter from the rain coming down like needles. Heavy and parallel, it nearly knocked him off his feet.
Quickening his pace, he sought refuge from the oncoming storm at the side of a building. He didn’t bother trying to pen the doors to what looked to be a little tourist trap namely because he didn’t think he’d be able to get them pried open against the wind, but also because he needed a chance to catch his breath.
He couldn’t see, but he could feel the darkness all the same. Darkness beyond the surface. This wasn’t a normal storm. He didn’t know how it was possible, but he knew deep down that she was to blame for this. Things connected too perfect to be coincidental.
All roads led not to Rome, but to Allyson. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was playing a very dangerous game.
The wind howled against the side of the building so loud, he almost didn’t hear the person knocking on the window from the inside. They motioned for him to come around to the front door, and he nodded, clinging to his messenger bag as he braced himself once more to brave the storm in favor of somewhere dry and welcoming. He rushed almost in slow motion against the wind, trying to get to the person at the door as fast as possible. The person on the other side pushed against the door, giving it their all, and he pulled with all his might.
And then it happened.
He couldn’t remember what it was, and he didn’t know if he would have even had the time to make it out when he was there in the moment. He looked toward the sound of something as loud as a gunshot next to his head, and it struck him in the face, something either blisteringly hot or freezing cold, too extreme to tell the difference.
Everything went dark.
Rienford tried to reach for one of the tubes connected to the back of his hand, and the first couple of times he missed. His depth perception was gone. The beeping machines twittered faster as he struggled with the tubing before a team of people appeared from seemingly nowhere. They took hold of his arms and legs, holding him down to the bed, restricting his flailing appendages. Panic rose in the back of his throat, a bitter, almost metallic taste, and he fought them harder.
Little by little, the adrenaline pumping through him lessened, despite the fight or flight mindset still engraved in his desperate bones. His attempts to shake the hands from his body felt heavier, more sluggish. Drugged.
“Sir! Sir! You need to calm down!”
The face above him appeared to be shouting, but her voce sounded far away. Her perfectly groomed eyebrows were furrowed, making worry lines. She almost looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her.
He gave up fighting, favoring how his body felt heavy and light simultaneously. Completely relaxed. Rienford tried to focus again on the woman’s voice, but it was so quiet that he couldn’t make out the words. Sleep welcomed him with open arms, and he fell into them unashamed and unafraid.
Manda Kay Writes 
1 thought on “Zemblanity Eradicated ++++Bonus Chapter++++”