Have Spacecat, Will Travel: And Other Tails by John Hartness (best color ebook reader .txt) 📗

any other guests. Did you, sweetheart?” Herman shook his head frantically side to side, as much to try to clear his eyes from the dripping honey as anything else. Cindy put down the bottle of lemon juice and walked to the door.

“Who is it?” she called sweetly through the door.

“NYPD.” It was a strong male voice. Herman almost soiled himself in gratitude. He would get out of this! The police, those fools that he worked so hard to avoid, were going to save his life.

“What can I do for you, Officer?” Cindy kept the saccharine tone to her voice, pressing her entire body against the door jamb.

“There was a suspicious man seen entering the building earlier. One of your neighbors called it in. We need to know if you’ve seen him.”

“I haven’t seen anyone suspicious, Officer. I’ve just been soaking in the bath.” She drew out the last word, painting languorous images of her nakedness with her voice. “Why, I didn’t bother to put on a robe before I answered the door, I’m just standing here. Dripping. Would you like to come in, Officer?” She purred and arched her back. Herman tried not to watch her writhe against the door like a cat in heat, but a stirring rose in his loins nonetheless.

“Um, that’s all right, ma’am. Just be on the lookout for any strange men in the area.”

Herman tried to scream, but it came out as a strangled whimper. Cindy’s head whipped around at him. She had heard him. Maybe the cop heard him, too.

The cop’s voice came through the door. “What was that, ma’am? Maybe I do need to come in there. Could you open the door, please?”

“Certainly, Officer.” Cindy turned the knob and stepped back into the room, pulling the door open. The cop stood in the doorway dumbfounded, staring at her naked body, her tattoo, her pierced nipples, and finally dragging his eyes up to the insane light in her eyes.

“Ma’am, could you please step aside?” The cop came into the room, his hand on the butt of his gun. Cindy closed the door behind him and threw the deadbolt. The cop froze as he saw Herman strapped to the chair, naked, bleeding and trying frantically to get free.

Herman had read about people who said that time slowed down when bad things were happening, but he never believed them. He’d done lots of bad things, and time never slowed down for him. But now, it was like he was watching a movie step forward frame by frame in front of him. He saw the cop’s eyes go wide, the whites almost swallowing his pupils. He saw Cindy throw the deadbolt on the door. He saw the cop begin to draw his gun and turn. He saw Cindy lash out with her X-Acto knife and cut deep into the side of the cop’s neck.

He saw the cop’s left hand go to his neck, watched the man continue to spin around and bring his gun to bear on the naked woman. He saw the silver blade glint in the cheap overhead lighting and flash down again, burying itself in the cop’s chest. He saw the barrel of the gun swing up and flash fire. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Three times. He saw the black holes blossom on Cindy’s chest and watched her lithe body float backward and crash into the locked door. He saw the look of surprise on her face shift to one of pain, then of…amusement? He watched her die.

He watched the cop fall to his knees, then drop onto his back, the X-Acto knife quivering in his chest. He watched the blood spurt from the hole in his neck, strong at first, casting a red arc several feet, then weaker, shorter bursts as the man bled out. He saw the cop turn his head to look at Herman, an almost-apology in his eyes, as though he was leaving something undone. Then he watched the cop die, too.

Herman sat there for a long moment, breathing hard. The gunshots, the stabbing, it had all been too much for him. When the other cops got there to rescue him, he was going to go straight. Get a better job, maybe meet a nice girl. There had always been whores. There would always be whores. Herman didn’t have to be the one to punish them; he saw that now. He even offered up a prayer of thanks to God for showing him the error of his ways. Then he settled in to wait for the police.

And wait.

And wait.

The sun crept over the floor of the apartment, but no other police came. Still Herman waited.

The corpses voided themselves in a last disgusting release of muscles. Still Herman waited.

Night fell, and Herman could hear the distant sounds of lives happening in apartments down the hall, on other floors, but nothing in the units nearby. Still Herman waited.

Eventually Herman realized that the dead cop had probably just been a patrolman, walking a beat in the neighborhood. It would take them longer to find him, but eventually they would. The cops took care of their own. They’d find their fallen brother, rescue Herman, and all would be right with the world. Herman just had to wait. It was uncomfortable, covered in meat and sugar water and honey, but Herman had been uncomfortable before. He was patient. He could wait. After all, people could go for days without food or water. As long as they found him within a few days, he’d be fine.

Then he saw the first mouse scurry out from under the refrigerator and sniff in his direction.

4

The Medical Transcriptionist becomes Lost (and found) in her work

She sits alone

tap-tapping on a dusty Dell laptop,

worn blanket across her knees

as she transforms the doctors’ hieroglyphics

into clumsy diagnoses

like 3 centimeter tumor

metastatic

and advanced dementia.

She sits alone

in the blue-gray glow of an analog television

with an empty dog dish on the floor

beside the sink

(Lucas had to be put to sleep last year

but she can’t bring herself