The Grim Room

CHAPTER 35

Photo by Colin Davis on Unsplash

           

Silver bumped a nice line up his fat nose, his head hanging over the blue dash, when he saw (and heard) the Chevelle pull up.

            Hunkering down in his seat, he checked the clock: 5 A.M. The Chevelle sat there, on Stanyan, yards from the McDonald’s parking lot, idling. The loud engine puttered and roared like a speed boat. It was still dark out; street lamps lit the road. What was Chris doing? The Chevelle loudly lurched forward, the engine’s noise at last dissipating. A few long blocks up a hill it perched, waiting. It appeared that he was waiting up on Fulton Street, by St. Mary’s Hospital.

            Silver sat up fully, stretched, and hotwired the engine through the ignition display again. It started, a much less intrusive noise. While he was waiting for the car to warm, he spotted Rebecca, wearing a thick wool coat, stepping out of her apartment on Waller. She mechanically checked around her, scanning, seeming nervous, walked to …