"Yes, and you saw what happened to him. But try not to mention Aaron around Lucas, they were real close, you know? He's a lot more torn up than he's letting on."
The side door opened and Roach emerged onto the porch, eyeing the sky to judge the weather. Her boots clomped on the floorboards as she strode over to where David sat and gave him a silent and unsmiling greeting. He returned it and drained his coffee, standing up to return the mug to the kitchen.
"Hey," Roach said. "You need me to give you a ride somewhere? I'm about to head home myself."
"Sure, that would be great. I still have no idea where my car is."
"I think I do, the cops who pulled you over are like us. They're a couple of irredeemable assholes but they're totally loyal to Angelique, and I know how to reach them. Shouldn't be too much trouble to track it down."
"Thanks, Roach," David said with genuine gratitude in his voice, feeling like he could use all the help he could get right about now. "I can't imagine trying to go back to normal life, but I guess I have to. I'm actually more worried about losing my phone than my car, my whole world was in there."
"Lucas went to bed, but he said you're welcome to visit in the future if you need to. Like I told you, it's a safe place should you ever need one. We try to look after each other, and Lucas is a real good person to have on your side." Roach tucked a damp lock of long black hair behind her ear and zipped up her military coat. Together they crossed the sodden lawn to where Roach's nondescript car was parked on the street, and climbed in.
Few words were spoken during the drive, save for David's directions for the trip toward his place on Capitol Hill. It was early Sunday morning, the waterlogged roads were nearly vacant save for themselves, it was a short drive north on the 1-5, and soon Roach was pulling up in front of David's building. "Hey," she said as he made to get out. "When you get a phone, here's my number. Just in case you need it."
"Thanks," David said again, accepting the proffered scrap of paper with a thin-lipped smile. They waved their goodbyes and Roach pulled away as David let himself into the building. The elevator was still out of order of course, but David took the stairs two at a time on the way up just because he could, as his personal supply of energy never seemed to run dry. He reached his floor panting from exertion and walked down the hall to let himself into his small apartment.
A low feline growl greeted him upon stepping inside, and Tish scooted to hide behind the recliner. Ignoring her for the moment, David stepped into the bathroom to splash some water on his face and stood for several minutes regarding himself in the mirror. It was weird to be home in these comfortable and familiar surroundings when everything going on inside of him was so alien that he felt like a stranger in his own skin. The man looking back from the mirror wasn't one David recognized at all,
THAT
guy had tasted human flesh some hours ago, just for one thing. David knew he was going to have to face that fact sooner or later, but for now he pushed it back into the fog of an already overwhelming day.
From the bathroom David moved to the cramped half-kitchen area and retrieved a can of cat food from the cupboard. He emptied it into the bowl and then spent a good twenty minutes trying to coax his normally affectionate pet to let him come near, all in vain. Tish refused to take a single step toward him, and would hiss and spit if approached, retreating to the farthest possible distance.
Finally giving up, David left the food on the floor and returned to the kitchen to find something for himself to eat. Without much warning he realized he was ravenous, but as he rummaged through the refrigerator he found his vegetarian offerings to be unappetizing in the extreme. David avoided meat as a rule and never had any in stock at home. The sickening thing was that David knew exactly what he wanted, there was no question in his mind. He was craving red meat like little before in his life. Eggs were the closest thing to animal protein in David's fridge, and so he set about frying a couple of them up, only to find them frustratingly unsatisfying.
"Oh well," David said aloud to Tish. "Seems like giving into cravings has become my hobby recently, so I might as well go for broke, right?" Her answer was a warning yowl, so David left her to her own devices and left his apartment again, descending the stairs and out into the rainy streets with his destination being the market a few blocks away.
Halfway there, walking down the rainy sidewalk, David passed an older woman bravely out walking her dog. The dog was a small one, some kind of rat terrier, and it promptly went berserk at David's approach. Barking in an especially piercing manner it seemed uncertain if it wanted to attack or run away, and David hurried on to get away from it and its apologetic owner who was shocked at her pet's behavior.
Half an hour later David returned to his apartment with steaks, chicken, some sausage, and a bottle of wine. He had never been a wine drinker, but no liquor stores were open to get his usual fix of hard alcohol. He reminded himself that he was still trying to quit, and this lapse was turning into a full-fledged relapse, but he couldn't find the fight in him to resist the pull of drink when he so desperately needed it. David never drank to have fun or to cut loose. David only drank to numb up, it was pure self-administered emotional anesthetic. He drank to not care, and if there were ever a man who could be pardoned for needing to not care, David judged it might well be him considering what he was medicating against.
He set the groceries on the counter and put a pan on to heat. By now David felt so hungry that he was hollow inside as he set about preparing his food as quickly as possible, eager to sate himself. The raw steaks were the cheapest cuts, but he found himself nearly drooling as he unwrapped them on the cutting board. One went into the frying pan and David settled on very rare out of impatience. The steak went onto his plate more warm than cooked, and David ate like a man starved for days. He was finished mere moments later and still ravenous, and he idly wondered how many calories his amped-to-the-gills body had burned over the last twelve hours.
David went to prepare the second steak but paused before putting it in the pan. The bloody meat looked more than appetizing, and he brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply. It was tantalizing to his hyper-acute sense of smell, that raw red meat, and he paused only a moment before surrendering to the hunger and taking a huge bite. It was delicious and satisfying, so David sat at his small table and devoured the raw steak using only his hands and teeth, delighting in the feel of tearing meat off the bone.
By the time he finished, the razor's edge had been taken off his hunger, but it was by no means sated. David wasn't even sure what he was craving exactly, more food or something else. The emptiness he felt inside him was begging to be filled with
something
, so David grimly opened the cheap wine he had bought and took a long bracing drink direct from the bottle. He didn't like wine very much, it was purely an alcohol delivery method, but it was that or beer and David had detested beer his whole life, just because of the Old Man.
"Shit, the Old Man!" David exclaimed aloud. It was Sunday morning and he'd been missing in action since Tuesday. For a few blissful days, he had completely forgotten the fucker existed. David had no phone, but he could imagine the messages stacked up on his voice mail, demanding to know where he was. He would be lucky if he hadn't been reported to the cops, more likely for elder abuse than being a missing person. He groaned and contemplated the wine bottle, giving serious consideration to downing the whole thing in a single draught and going back to forgetting. But the Old Man needed checking on as his nurse didn't come on the weekends, though the idea was as appealing as a root canal.
Resigned to his fate, David considered his transportation options. The Seattle Metro bus line ran down toward the general area, but it would be a long and complicated ride. Calling a taxi was the next idea, but David had no phone, and it struck him again just how dependent he had become on the damn thing. For that matter he'd lost his credit and bank cards in an era when cash was growing ever more out of fashion. He wrote exactly one check for his rent out of an aging checkbook that gathered dust the rest of the month. David grimaced when he thought of everything that was in his wallet he would now need to replace, his driver's license, social security card, insurance cards... He had practically been rendered a non-person in the eyes of modern society. He no longer had his papers.
Settling on the likeliest option he saw before him, David allowed himself one more solid pull on the wine bottle before leaving his apartment, judging he was going to need all the psychic Seran-wrap he could get for the task ahead. Lori's apartment was two floors up from his own, so he climbed the stairs and walked down the carpeted hallway to her door, where he rapped lightly. There was a pause and then the door opened, and Lori's round face appeared wearing a welcoming smile as always.
"Morning, David! Come on in, there's fresh coffee made if you want some." Her voice was bright and full of genuine warmth. David stepped inside and into an affectionate, loving hug from the curvy woman.
