J.L. Doty - Dead Among Us 01 - When Dead Ain’t Dead Enough by J.L. Doty

moment to place it: Walter McGowan, the old professor type who’d knocked on his door a week ago. Yes, now he remembered the fellow, the same fellow that showed up tonight in his apartment with Russian thugs with guns. Their leader? His daughter? Shit!
    A flush of adrenaline cleared his head instantly. She said something about her cell phone, dug in her purse for a moment and retrieved it, then turned and headed for the hall, her high heels clicking loudly on the linoleum floor. She must be calling them so they could come and finish the job. He had to get out, get away and escape.
    Paul slipped carefully out of bed on the side away from the door. His stitches pulled painfully as he crouched down in its shadow. He had a groggy recollection of the nurse telling him his clothes were on a shelf under the bed, but the shelf was empty.
    “Looking for these, ye daft fool?”
    He maintained his crouch behind the bed as he turned toward the voice, found another midget in a clown suit: different midget, though not so different clown suit. This midget looked to be the same size as the one from earlier in the evening. It wore similarly outlandish clothing in similarly outlandish colors, but this one’s nose was an inverted ski jump, almost like a parrot’s beak, and it stood there holding Paul’s bundled clothes.
    “He ain’t too quick, Boo’Diddle.”
    Paul glanced over his shoulder, found the midget from the street near his apartment standing behind him. The other midget said, “It appears he ain’t, Jim’Jiminie.”
    Paul hissed, “Give me my fucking clothes, god damn it. Those maniacs are coming after me.”
    The midget named Boo’Diddle handed Paul his clothing, spoke around Paul to the other midget, “Looks like he’s finally catching on.”
    Paul peeked up over the bed; the pretty, young women was gone. He crouched back down, started pulling on his blood-encrusted clothing, realized the paramedics and ER staff had cut his shirt and pants to shreds. He had to tie pieces off to make it all work, was thankful they hadn’t cut his belt in two. Without that he wouldn’t be able to keep the pants on. The midgets tried to assist, hindered him more than helped, but he finally managed it.
    McGowan marched into the hospital’s reception with Colleen behind him. She’d put away her shadows since a shadow walking around on its own would raise a few eyebrows. Katherine would be down in a matter of seconds, and using her to get past the receptionist would be easier than spelling the woman. But as he approached her he sensed a faint hint of magic in the air.
    “Good evening,” the receptionist said in a dreamy, not-there voice that seemed badly uncharacteristic of this apparently formidable woman. He glanced at Colleen and she raised an eyebrow, confirming she too sensed something out of place.
    The slightest touch was all he needed to confirm his suspicions. He leaned forward, held out his hand and smiled his most charming, handsome-older-gentleman smile. “I’m Walter McGowan, Katherine’s father,” he said, trying to make it sound more like an invitation for a date.
    The woman blushed, smiled at him and took his hand. “Of course, pleased to meet you, Mr. McGowan.”
    The instant her hand touched his he could sense the residual of the spell. He turned to Colleen. “Shit! She’s already been spelled.”
    Colleen said, “Karpov!”
    Paul remained crouched as he stepped out from behind his bed. Light from the hallway spilled through the open door of the ward and lit up the floor between the beds on either side, leaving the beds themselves in shadowed darkness. Paul felt exposed and vulnerable as he stepped into the light and tiptoed carefully up the length of the ward, the two midgets tiptoeing behind him. He passed one bed, then another, keeping his eyes on the open entrance to the ward. He couldn’t see down the hallway to either side, so he was moving blind, and he’d almost reached the ward’s entrance when he