The Short Second Life of Mil Winchester - Book 2

The Man Who Knew Too Much

THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH

I didn't know who I was. I didn't know where I was. All I knew was that I had to run. Sirens screamed behind me, but I didn't know why. I just ran. I ducked down a path, and rattled on a door. Come on, come on. It didn't budge. Locked. Those cops were after me, and my instincts (all I had to work with here) were telling me to hide. The door was a no-show, so I kicked down a nearby gate, and crouched behind a wall. My breath was coming hard and fast, chest heaving. I tried to keep myself as still and quiet as possible, in case somebody found me. The sirens approached. I froze. But they just kept driving, the noise dying as it left me alone. I only stood when I could no longer hear the police car. I needed a new place. I needed a place to regather my thoughts, try work out where I was. Actually, who I am would be a real good start. The door marked 'Delivery Entrance Only' looked promising, so I pulled it open.

Inside was a bar, I recognised that much. A young woman was cleaning up, but otherwise the place was deserted.

She looked up when I entered, expression almost unfriendly. "Hey, we're closed."

Yeah, I get that, but I need a place to hide. "Just uh, just give me a second," I panted desperately, moving to the window. Something told me to keep out of sight, so I hid around the curtain, peeking through to watch the cop car drive past.

"So, pal, we - we open at noon," the woman snapped. And what's the time now? I have no idea.

"Look, you don't understand," I breathed. I clutched my chest. I'd been running fast for a long time, and although I was - somehow - fit, a stitch was cramping my stomach. I watched the cop car pass the window again, and I ducked away.

"Okay, I-I think I understand just fine," the woman retorted. "Look I-I don't need this kind of hassle. So seriously, just get the hell out."

"Please," I begged, moving discretely away from the window and towards the counter. "Please, just give me a minute to think, that's all. Then I'm out of your hair." Out the corner of my eye, and I didn't know why I noticed it, but I saw the woman reach for a baseball bat under the counter. "One minute," I repeated, trying to catch my breath. "Please."

The girl sighed, lowering the bat beneath the counter again. "What's your name?"

That, was a very good question, and for the life of me I wasn't sure. It was like there was a big mental wall between myself and everything I knew, except these random impulse-like instincts that I couldn't explain. "I don't know."

Clearly, that caught the woman's interest. She frowned. "What do you mean you don't know?"

Come on, come on. Give me something, anything. "I mean I don't remember. I don't remember anything."

The woman scoffed. She silently opened a bottle and handed it to me. "Come on, you're dickin' with me. Nothing?"

Yeah, and I wish I knew. Why, and how, and who the heck I was! "I'm telling you. Blank slate." Experimentally, I tasted the drink. Well, at least I knew beer was good. I liked beer. Somehow, it felt like I'd had a lot of it in the past. It tasted familiar, in a deja vu kinda way.

"Well, you got a wallet? ID?" The woman prompted.

Of course, that was the first thing I'd looked for. I had nothing. I scowled, taking another sip from my beer. "I wish I did."

"Okay, well, what's the last thing you remember?" She was, suddenly, taking this very well.

I shook my head, thinking. Even that detail was sorta fuzzy. "Um, I woke up on a park bench, cops shoving a flashlight in my face, trying to take me in."