HUM by Dan Hawley (chromebook ebook reader TXT) 📕

flushed with embarrassment as he followed Jason’s pointed finger to the bright red octagon standing on the corner. The driver of the Cadillac stood there in shock.

“I didn’t even see it, man. I didn’t even see it.”

When the ambulance finally arrived, one paramedic came over and asked if Jason was alright or needed to go to the hospital. Jason said he was fine, just a little shaken up. He had surveyed his body and felt no cracked ribs from the collision with the airbag; no severe pain in his neck or head from the sudden stop. He just felt like he had taken a good ass-kicking.

He had given his statement to the police as he watched the paramedics tend to the passenger, whose look of realization and fear would forever be etched into Jason’s memory. The paramedics braced the passenger’s broken right arm and tied it to his body. His face contorted, and he let out quick bursts of angry pain as they moved him from the front seat onto a stretcher.

Insurance had paid for Jason’s car; not that it was worth much. Jason had considered suing the guy. He had visions of himself showing up in court with some greasy lawyer and a thick, white brace wrapped around his neck. But when he attended court as a summoned witness for the state, he found out that the driver—Micky Johns—had had a few afternoon pops that day and blew over on the breathalyzer. And apparently, this wasn’t the first time either.

Micky Johns was quickly found guilty of driving under the influence, careless driving causing bodily harm, failing to obey a traffic sign, and speeding. His buddy, the passenger, had a broken right arm and cracked pelvis for his trouble. Jason’s thoughts of suing this guy for everything he was worth quickly vanished as he realized the guy wasn’t worth very much at all. Jason had to resign himself to being grateful that he had emerged alive and relatively unscathed.

Relatively, of course, because he did have terrible dreams for some time after the accident. Almost every night, Jason would dream about standing on a tall, brown brick building. He would look off the edge and take a step, knowing he could fly. Except Jason couldn’t fly. Everything around him would turn dark as he fell, the wind howling past his ears. The ground would rush up to meet him, but he always awoke with a jolt, right at the moment of impact.

Those dreams had eventually subsided as time passed, and the trauma of the accident softened into memory.

Jason adjusted his glasses as the SUV came to a stop. He looked left and right. His was the only vehicle at the four-way stop, so he pulled away. A few drops of rain hit the windshield, and he absentmindedly wiped them clean with a click of a lever.

CHAPTER 18

It began to rain harder as Jason pulled off the street into the parking garage under his apartment. The steel gate reacted to its programming and rolled into the ceiling with the sound of metal on metal. Jason brought his left arm holding the key fob back inside the SUV and closed the window. A few straggling drops of rain darkened the sleeve of his jacket where they fell. Once the metal barrier was lifted far enough out of the way, Jason pulled forward and parked the car.

The elevator stopped at the lobby, and the door opened. Jason peered out from the shiny lift to see a man peering back. He was tall and lanky, well dressed in a black suit, clean dress shoes, and a light-grey trench coat that stopped mid-leg. Jason and the well-dressed man stared at each other for a moment. “Feel free to come in if you’re comfortable,”

Jason said, his blue surgical mask muffling his words slightly.

The well-dressed man’s head cocked. He, too, was wearing a mask, though it was dyed black and made of cloth. It matched his jet-black hair that peaked out heavily from under his tilted fedora.

“As long as you don’t mind?” the man replied as he stepped into the elevator.

They stood as far away from each other as they could.

“What floor?” Jason asked.

“Twentieth, please.”

The well-dressed man had an accent that Jason couldn’t quite place. Northern Michigan, he guessed, or Wisconsin. Hell, maybe the guy was some beaver-eating Canadian. Jason pushed the button, and it glowed.

“That’s one floor below us,” Jason said as he stared at a sign that read COVID-19 PROTOCOL: 2 PERSON MAX. OCCUPANCY with a picture of a surgical mask underneath.

The well-dressed man said nothing, only shifted. With a flash of inspiration, Jason added, “That noise must really bug you guys on the twentieth, huh?” The man turned his head to look at Jason.

“Noise?”

“Yeah,” Jason continued, “you know, the mechanical room or whatever. I think Chester said it was on your floor. It sure is loud up in our place. You can hear it through the walls and everything.”

The man shifted back to continue staring at the smooth, silver doors of the elevator.

“I don’t hear any noise.” He paused for a moment and added, “Except the neighbors’ screaming kid sometimes.” He chuckled to himself softly.

“Oh,” said Jason quietly, “well…”

The elevator slowed and stopped at twenty. The chrome sliding doors opened with a ding. “Goodnight,” the well-dressed man said and tipped his fedora before leaving the elevator. Jason stared after him, deep in thought.

The elevator dinged once more, and the door closed. Jason stared at the glowing button that read twenty-one as the gentle pull of the elevator carried him to his level.

The door opened with a ding.

Jason stared out into the hall. After a moment, the elevator let out another chime, and the door closed. Jason stared at the control panel. The elevator remained suspended in the air on the twenty-first floor. Finally, Jason pushed the button he was staring at, and the elevator descended. The car stopped again, and with a ding, the shiny doors opened.

Jason stepped out onto floor twenty.

It felt weird