Ascending by Wright T.M. & Armstrong F. W

Ascending by Wright T.M. & Armstrong F. W

Author:Wright, T.M. & Armstrong, F. W. [M., Wright, T. & W., Armstrong, F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: 2011-03-07T16:00:00+00:00


Lenny Baker was sitting on a blue vinyl couch in the hospital lobby. He'd been waiting for Ryerson, and as Ryerson approached, heading for the front doors, Lenny stood, smiled his huge, pink, aging cherub kind of smile and extended his chunky hand. Ryerson stared at it a moment, then shook it quickly. "Thank you," he said, and started for the doors.

Lenny looked crestfallen after him. "That's all?" he called. "God, Rye, I practically saved your life—"

Ryerson stopped and looked back. "I wasn't going to jump. I couldn't have, even if I'd wanted to."

"Sure," Lenny said, and went over to him. "I know that. But you could have fallen through accidentally. And if it weren't for me, you probably would have."

Ryerson was stymied. He shrugged. "Okay, then again, my thanks. I mean it, Mr. Baker. Thank you very much." He sighed. "Listen, do you want the truth?"

"Sure. Of course. Doesn't everyone?"

"No. But this is the truth between you and me: I don't like your methods, Mr. Baker. That's not a value judgment, and it's not something personal. I don't dislike you as a person. Actually, you're kind of endearing, in a bumbling way. But professionally, I'd say we're simply not compatible,"

Lenny grinned toothily. "I'll change my methods, then."

"I doubt very much that you can."

"You think I'm fat and disgusting, don't you? You can't deny it—I'm just as psychic as you are. I can read it in you—"

"I don't think you're fat and disgusting."

"I jog, you know. I just started. I do one mile every morning. Next week it'll be two miles, and the week after that it'll be three miles—"

"I told you—I do not find you fat and disgusting. That's not the issue; it's not the problem." Again he started for the doors. He felt Lenny's hand on his shoulder. He stopped, looked back.

Lenny said, with a Cheshire-cat smile, "The police got somebody for that CN Tower murder, Rye."

Ryerson said nothing.

Lenny added, "I heard it over the TV in there." He nodded toward a small room to the left of the lobby.

"Who?" Ryerson said. "Did you get a name?"

Lenny nodded. "Yeah. Some guy named Lamb."

"This is incredible," Ryerson said. "They've got the wrong man." He wasn't speaking to Lenny, he was speaking to himself. "That's all there is to it. The idiots have got the wrong damned man."

"Yeah," said Lenny, "I know it, you know it, the guy they got knows it, but that's all that knows it."

Ryerson continued shaking his head. He turned quickly and headed for the front doors. Lenny fell in behind him. On the street, Ryerson hailed a cab, got in, saw Lenny getting in with him, said, "No. Please, no!" And there was such desperate urgency in his voice that Lenny backed away and hailed his own cab.

"Follow that car!" Lenny said to the driver.

"What car?" asked the driver.

"That one!" Lenny yelled, pointing stiffly at Ryerson's cab.

"Why?" asked the driver.

"What do you mean, ‘Why?' I want you to follow it, that's all."

The driver turned around, smiling.



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