Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Not a single scrap of memory emerges from his mind. Not even a flicker, nor a glimmer, nor even a half-remembered hint of what happened when that gun fired. Everything since is a complete and total blank, up to the point at which he opened his eyes right now in this bed.
“Don’t misunderstand my gratitude earlier,” says the chief. “You are still a person of interest until I’m satisfied with what you tell me. How are you still alive?”
“I … I don’t know,” says Kyle, out of breath.
“Yeah, I think you do.”
“The gun went off, and … and …” Kyle shakes his head. “And then I woke up here. I don’t know how it happened, sir.”
He narrows his eyes, annoyed. A steely silence passes. “You will tell me eventually. But for now, you’re gonna answer my other questions.” He folds his arms on the railing of the bed. “You’re gonna tell me how the hell you ended up at that store. Start at the beginning of your night if you have to. You worked your closing shift at the bar. You walked home. And then?”
Kyle’s eyes drift away, suddenly thinking of Elias. Where is he right now? Elias followed him. Was he too fast to keep up with? Did Elias hide somewhere when he saw the police car? Should Kyle mention his existence at all?
“Earth to Henry Rosenberg,” clips the chief, impatient.
Kyle clears his throat. “After I got home, I … I decided to go for a walk.” He swallows hard. “Alone.”
“And?”
“I heard a shout.” That part is true, isn’t it? He’ll leave out the part about having extrasensory experiences. “I followed the shout to the pawnshop. I saw the doors were ajar. I went inside. I found two people. A man in a hoodie and—”
“My son, yes, I know the rest, goddamn it. What I don’t know is how in the hell you took a bullet between the eyes, then continued on like nothing happened, like he might as well have tossed a ping-pong ball at your face. Then you went into a maniacal rage and took him down like you had the strength of a dozen hippos.”
Kyle stares back in disbelief.
“And then you …” The chief makes a face, appearing for a moment uncomfortable, then meets Kyle’s eyes with certainty. “Then you bit him.”
Kyle can’t close his mouth. “I … I did what?”
“You heard me. Fucking bit him, the criminal, right on his ear. Nearly took it straight off, like a dog.”
Kyle reaches with the wrong hand to cover his mouth, the handcuff yanking his wrist back in place, reminding him it’s there. He stares down at his lap instead, aghast.
The chief’s energy seems to deflate as he watches the shift of expressions on Kyle’s face. He steps away from the bed and slowly circles it, shaking his head. “Henry, Henry … what am I gonna do with your scary ass?”
Kyle can’t form thoughts. “I bit him …?”
“Everyone in town loves you. Got no clue why. I never trusted you as far as I can throw you since you first stepped foot here.” He huffs. “Now my Jer thinks you’re a superhero. The criminal thinks you’re a motherfucking demon. I don’t know what the hell to think anymore. I’m on some kind of … fucking prank show, for all I know, because not a bit of this makes sense to me. Someone’s laughing at me right now on the other side of a camera, I’m sure of it, making a fool of me … Christ.”
“But how did I end up here …?”
“I’m the one asking the questions!” barks the chief. After a second, he sighs. “Once the criminal was subdued, you just … fainted, right there, right in front of the store, with some kinda sick, sleepy grin on your face. I thought you finally succumbed to the bullet, but nope, the bullet didn’t even break your skin. How’s that possible? Found it inside the store where you were shot. As if the thing bounced off your forehead like rubber.”
Kyle lies back in the bed, overcome, staring at the ceiling. He tries to remember. He feels like he’s in a battle with his own brain, desperate to recall even the tiniest moment.
It’s just like the night he lost his family.
All of it, gone.
No trace in his memories whatsoever.
“You got something you want to tell me, Mr. Rosenberg?”
Kyle shakes his head. “No. I don’t know anything. I don’t remember any of that happening.”
“Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m asking you. I think you know exactly what’s in my head right now.”
Kyle looks at him, alarmed. “What?”
The chief leans forward. “Let me be clear. Whatever you tell me,” he says, then stops, lets out a sigh, and lowers his voice to something uncharacteristically soft, “it stays in this room, you got it? Just between you, me, and God. I don’t want none of this to get out to the rest of the town, not a bit of it. It didn’t happen, won’t exist. Not even to Georgina. I’ve already cleaned up the shop, it’s ready for her to open, she won’t know a thing.”