Long Way Down
““Thank you. I’m not hallucinating or making this up. Someone did just try to kill me. They screwed up, but they were professionals. No doubt.”
“Are you hurt?”
I’d have some aches and pains; I didn’t roll down subway stairs often enough to do it without getting a few bruises. “I’m all right.” The whiskey went down well. “I’m not a whiskey drinker. Is this good stuff? I should sip it, right?”
“It is very good stuff, but at this moment, it is medicinal. Pour it down if that’s what you need.”
I sipped it. “I could get used to this.”
“We need to report this.”
I shook my head. “I had a fight with two men on the street. They got in their car and drove away. Oh, and by the way, I started it.”
“You saw a gun.”
“No one else did. Those two were waiting for me to come up out of the subway.
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