In Four Days – Saga Two…
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DAY ONE…
I had been perched on a stool at the bar of Tattooed Mama’s for almost twenty minutes, drinking in silence the last of our pitcher and smoking the last of my Maverick smokes, when Khirov finally turned to face me. The taxi driver’s face was coated in sweat, his eyes bloodshot and his bandaged hands were shaking. If I hadn’t known him for seven years now, I would have thought he was riding high on some drug. He called me at the station about an hour ago, frantic but evasive and asked for me to speak with him here.
“You ready to tell me what’s got you so cranked?”
“Don’t. Don’t look at me like that.” He snapped. “I don’t need judging.”
“Fine. I have wasted enough of my slee—”
“—No, no. Sorry, Detective Ellis.” Khirov waved his hand at me and then used a bar napkin to wipe at his cheeks and brow. He shot me a quick glance as he started to snake one of my cigarettes out of the pack. “May I?”
I just nodded; I had never seen him upset. Not even after I had reported to his assault and robbery. I had been on patrol when the call came in: a taxi driver had been beaten and robbed. He had been calm during my questioning and had spoken clearly and careful, giving me all the details that he remembered. He was not one to be easily rattled. When I arrested the punk that had robbed him, Khirov Boulos had insisted on buying me a steak dinner. Afterwards, we had remained in touch over the years.
“Detective Ellis, are you a faithful man? Religious, I mean?”
“I was raised Catholic by my Ma, but I haven’t been in a church in several years.”
“So you don’t fear the afterlife?”
I laughed at that. “No. After what happens out here on the streets, I think there isn’t much that demons and Hell could use to shock me.”
He took a long drag of the cigarette and then fell silent.
“Khirov, look. If you aren’t ready to tell me what’s going on, I am not going to sit here all night trying to read your mind. I need to go home.”
He nodded and then drank some liquid courage. “I was, uh, was on duty tonight around 9:30 near Dock St and 2nd of Old Town. Parked in an alleyway and waiting out the end of the rain storm we had. I must’ve dozed off or something. All of sudden I hear this dog barking. A loud, heavy woof. Could feel it vibrate through my chest. It was on my car’s hood! The damn thing just staring at me right through the windshield. I yelled back at it and waved my arms, but it just growled. I honked my horn trying to scare it. When it finally jumped down to the side, I saw this man standing there also just looking at me. I couldn’t see his actual face in the shadows, but I could feel his eyes upon me, you know?”
“Was he alone?”
“I think so, other than the dog.” He coughed into his hand and then took the napkin back to his brow. “Anyway, I yelled at the son-of-a-bitch too and waved for him to go away. I shouted at him ‘Don’t you have anything to do? Get lost!’ But he said nothing. I got mad and I wanted to see who this was. I flipped on my brights…”
He paused, then shifted his weight on the bar stool and glanced over my shoulder to scan the bar room.
“And?” I prompted. Like in all of my interrogations, I found it better to not interrupt and ask very few questions. Let their story come out unhindered.
“There… there was nothing. Just an empty alley. Not even a dumpster for him to hide behind.” He shook his head as if arguing with the memory. “I went to get out of the car when this an incredibly loud thunder jolted me.”
“Wait! The alley was clear?”
Khirov began shaking all over, “The street lamp above me, it suddenly got much brighter. Turned up and up until it exploded! Sparks were everywhere. I cranked my car keys to start it up so I could pull out from underneath it. Thought maybe the pole had gotten hit by lightning or something and didn’t want the wires come down on me. But when the car did start, the radio blared some awful rap music — that’s when I saw the time. It was 4:00 am! My wife, Evona had to be freaking out that I hadn’t come home yet. How could it have gotten to be 4?”
He snuffed out the smoldering end of the cigarette. I lit one and quickly handed him another. I wanted to know the rest of the story.
“Everything just went black. Everything. The dark washed over like a flood. My car died, the lights all faded along the buildings. Then… then I heard the back passenger door open and felt the weight of someone sitting inside. I screamed, ‘Whoever you are, get out! I am not in service.’ I knew it was him. The door shut and then all the locks dropped in the doors. I… I was locked inside with him in total darkness.”
“What did he want?”
“I only heard his voice once. ‘In four days, I will have you.’ I panicked. Beat on the window with my hands. My rings finally broke it and I scrambled out. I just left the car, my money, all — it didn’t matter.”
“‘In four days, I will have you’?” I repeated. “Was it a joke? Khirov you had to be still dreaming.”
His eyes were filling with tears and a deep-seated dread. “No. I think that this was a shaytan jinn.” His voice had fallen to barely a hoarse whisper.
“What?”
“A creature of smokeless fire.” He replied. “What you would call a demon. I am being hunted, my friend.”
My expression must’ve betrayed my true thoughts. His jaw clenched and his lips pressed into a tight line. “You doubt me! You think me mad?”
Khirov pounded his fist on the table, then he slapped a twenty dollar bill between our glasses and grabbed my arm. “Come on then, American. Come!”
He hauled me out to his yellow Bright Day Cab parked outside.
“Explain this!”
A pair of streaky, paw prints made of greenish-gray muck were tracked all along one side of the black hood. Then he opened the back door and pointed at a set of boot prints made of the same muck.
“In four days…” he whispered in a hushed tone.
