Download Chapter 20

Correspondence of Thieves - by Daniel Todd
Chapter 20
“And Monkey-bats.”
“And who knows what else,” I said.
“Why the devil do you think they’re here? They look like they’re
searching for something.”
“Me,” I just said.
“Well good luck finding you. Are they going to search through every
apartment in every building from here to Wayside?”
“Ghost,” I said, feeling the hair on my neck stand on end. “Is there a draft
in here?”
“Yeah, always has been. I could never find where it was coming from to
plug it up, but it never seemed to matter. Why?”
I looked down at the open wound on my arm, and the pile of bloody rags
in the waste bin, and then back at Ghost. “Because I can feel what’s in their
minds. I can’t read them, they’re too animalistic for that...but I can feel...that
they have a scent they are following—the scent of blood.”
“Oh shit,” Ghost said, as he watched one of the mongbats swoop
dangerously close to the building.”
“And they know they’re getting close.”
Ghost quickly went into the other room, and took a candle. He ran back
in, and began to try to set the rags on fire.
“Don’t!” I said. “They’ll see the light, and then they’ll be interested. The
scent will lead them right here. I need to get out of here.”
“Come on,” he said. “The basement seals; they won’t be able to find you
down there.”
He took the bandage so he could finish wrapping my arm, and we both
went for the stair. I didn’t even bother taking my top or cloak. We raced
down the flights of wooden steps, creating a terrible racket of creaks and
groans, until we got to the basement door. Ghost pulled it open, pulled me
through, and then closed it shut. There was no lock on the door, but it looked
tight enough so that no drafts could escape.
It was dark inside, with only a flickering and buzzing electric lamp on the
far wall basking everything in a sickly green light. The room was filled with
the typical barrels and crates, but what caught my eye was a row of iron
gratings on the floor to one side of the room. “Where do those lead?” I asked.
“To the sewers,” Ghost said, taking my arm again and beginning to wrap it
with the bandage. “Sometimes they unpack crates of produce down here, and
want to wash off the crates before the next batch, so they just hose them off
and let the water drain out. Why?”
I felt minds closing in on me, minds too inhuman to read and yet human
enough to feel their approach. “They know I’m here,” I whispered. “They lost
the scent, but it was too late. They realized where I was.”
Ghost gave a worried breath, and then tied the bandage firm. He went to
a shelf near the door, and began to push it so that it was blocking the door
from opening. “Ghost,” I said. “The door swings out.”
“Oh yeah,” he replied stopping, but then resumed pushing. “It will still
slow them down.”
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copyright © 2010 Daniel E Todd