CHIMERA: Book 1, Chapter 16
Five hours later, I nearly lost my brother again.
It was in a public restroom. Forget the eye-watering stench of the flowery disinfectant that was worse than the smell it was meant to cover up. Ignore the tile colored a puke green that made your stomach heave and gave you a desire to check the bottom of your shoes. Concentrate instead on puffy white feet, one in a cheap loafer, one bare and twisted to the side. Take a look at those as they show beneath the stall door. White, white skin splotched with purple veins and resting in a puddle of blood so fresh that the warmth of it steamed against the icy tile.
Yeah, take a good look. Here’s someone in the wrong place at the worst of times. Much like Michael found himself. I couldn’t know exactly what that felt like to him, but I could hazard a guess. His stomach would be stretched comfortably full with a mystery meat hamburger and an order of fries that would’ve foundered an elephant. I would bet he stopped at the mirrors over the sink, still started by the blond hair that flashed at him from the corner of his eye. Maybe he looked at his reflection and tried, despite himself, to remember a young boy with the same blond hair. Or maybe he just groaned at the bleached mop and cursed me under his breath.
I’d take three to one on that second option.
With the door shut behind him, he didn’t see the man who slapped an out of order sign over the universal little stick man that made the bathroom safe for penis carrying men everywhere. He didn’t see it, but I did. And that was something they did not expect. They waited until I was around the corner buying Michael another apple pie with a chocolate shake to chase it down. It wasn’t the brightest move on their part. My body may have been around that corner, but my mind wasn’t. I hadn’t kept Konstantin alive, no matter how temporarily, by standing around with one thumb up my ass and the other in an apple pie. Jack fucking Horner I was not.