Part 355 – Barbara Has A Question For Sammy

Ambrose was a physical mess. He shivered from the air conditioning which made his stomach stay clenched up which made him cough which made him retch which made him too warm which unfortunately did not stop his shivering.

Every breath that wasn’t a cough or a retch came out as a raspy wheeze.

And to top it all off: He was tired and he was hungry.

His mysterious visitor touched his bare shoulder.

Ambrose snarled and grabbed his wrist again.

“Wait! Stop!”  He might as well have been said it in Swahili.

Ambrose bit his wrist, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. So much more.

He pulled the man down to his level and pinned his face against the mattress. He bit his neck.

“Stop! It hurts. It hurts!”

Ambrose swallowed his blood in euphoric gulps.

The pain stopped.

His body temperature returned to normal.

His stomach calmed down.

His body relaxed.

His breathing eased into sporadic coughs.

“Ahh…ahh…ahh…” He released the man, who tumbled down to the floor.

Ambrose rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. “ahh…ahh…ahh…”

A face appeared in his mind.

A woman with wavy blonde hair and bright, laughing eyes.

A name came to his mind.

A name he knew.

“Barbara.”

***

“Thank you for calling Sammy Borscht’s office. We specialize in helping extraordinaries find jobs that match their talents. How may I direct your call? Okay. I’m transferring you to his office now.”

Barbara transferred the call and hung up the receiver.

She sighed. If only he had a cell phone, I could call him. If only there was some way I could get a hold of him.

I hope he’s okay.

I hope he’s safe.

The phone rang again.

“Thank you for calling Sammy Borscht’s office. Oh! Nope. Sorry about that.”

She hung up the phone.

If only he’d just come back to me. “Hmm.” She put her phone on forward and set out her Be Back In A Minute sign.

She walked back to Sammy’s office.

He was busy doing some sort of paperwork.

“Sammy?”

He startled and looked up. “Ms. Addleston. Is there a problem?”

“No. Not really, but.” She sat down before his desk.

He walked over to her side. “What is it?”

“Ambrose. You two had some serious heart-to-heart time when I was buying his ticket.”

“Yes.”

“Did he say when he was going to return?”

“No. But he should be on his way back some time tomorrow.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me, Ms. Addleston. I know. If all goes well…If he is well, Mr. Smith will return tomorrow.”

She considered his words. “If he is well. What do you mean?”

Sammy’s face became a careful blank, but he curled his fingers around the edge of his desk. “I meant what I said. If he is well. If he has not been staked. If he isn’t imprisoned. If the savage hunger hasn’t undone him.”

“The savage what?”

“He didn’t tell you.”

“No. Can you tell me?”

He tightened his grip.

His pencil sharpener did a suicide leap off the desk.

“It is difficult for me to explain.”

“Why?”

“Because. It’s my fault. It’s my fault, Ms. Addleston, and I am sorry.”

Her face turned pale.

“Are you certain you want to know?”

“I need to know.”

He sighed. “Then, I will tell you.”