The Three Dollar Phoenix by Walt Sautter (rooftoppers .txt) 📖

a religious fervor was consuming him.
“What I’m getting at is that it’s people like us, people who hold the weapons in the battle for survival who must lead the rest and sometimes there are lesser individuals who must be sacrificed. Nobody wants it to be that way but that’s the way it is, nature’s way. Those who can benefit the colony must be preserved. I didn’t make it so and neither did you. It’s just a fact of life, God’s will if you like.”
At this point, much to her surprise, Rita found herself beginning to have some difficulty, deciding whether these were the ravings of a lunatic or the words of an inspired philosopher.
Was the persuasiveness of his delivery, the words themselves or the possibility of reopening the clinic that gave his message its credence?
She knew the clinic would save needless suffering for many. For a few moments her thoughts drifted and she imagined it with the things that had been so sorely lacking. A faint smile came to her lips.
Then, in the next minute she chastised herself for even considering House’s subtly worded proposition. How could she accept the offerings of a madman who would classify another human being as an insect whose only purpose was to “die for” the good of the order?
But then again, isn’t that basic Darwinianism, survival of the many at the expense of the individual, she reasoned.
Al Druse was dead. Nothing could change that and she wasn’t even sure that House had anything to do with it. A new clinic might even be a fitting tribute to his memory. It could be named after him she mused. Apprehending his killer, if indeed he was murdered, wouldn’t memorialize him in the slightest, she thought.
How could she even think this way? It wasn’t right to trade a man’s life for her own personal concerns in spite of the fact that many could profit by the exchange.
Al wasn’t an ant, he was a man. But then again, she wasn’t trading anyone’s life. He wasn’t going to be resurrected, no matter what she decided and besides she was only surmising that House was referring to him.
“I hope I haven’t bored you, Margaret.”
House’s voice seemed to thunder its way into her stream of twisting, turning thoughts.
“Oh, not at all” she replied, somewhat startled by the interruption.
As the evening wore on, House’s pace began to slow. Rita attempted to engage him on topics of medical practice and general operating procedures at the institution, the kinds of things that would help to remove the tension from the atmosphere.
Once she realized that he wasn’t about to openly confront her, as she had feared he might, she became more relaxed. Instead of direct confrontation, he had apparently chosen to lay a game of innuendo and inference. He seemed quite sure that she was fully aware of his suggestions and appeared willing to give her time to consider the options he had presented so subtly. He made no mention of alternatives to his proposals and she was just as glad he didn’t.
As the time past, she began to find him more engaging and the sinister aura she had first encountered began to dissipate. The conversation flowed more easily in spite of the obvious overtones.
One of the things that struck her so sharply was the impression of a man who was committed to healing and who would go to any extreme to serve that commitment. He was obsessed with the need to fulfill his calling. In that way he reminded her of Ed.
“I’ve enjoyed our get together this evening Margaret, and I’m sure we’ll have the opportunity to do it again soon” House said pointedly, as they walked towards the elevator.
“If you want to speak to me at any time, just call my secretary. Please don’t wait too long. I’ve got people to account to just like everybody else and sometimes they lack my patience and understanding. They prefer less sophisticated methods, if you know what I mean. Basically, they have bad manners”
As the door closed on the elevator car, Rita’s mind again became a clutter of conflict. She walked, almost mechanically, back towards her room, her head pounding under the strain.
If she rejected House’s offer what would happen next? And if she accepted House’s offer what were the terms?
As she entered the long hallway leading to her apartment, she saw a dark form seated on the floor, back against the wall, in front of her doorway. He was slumped forward in a siesta like pose. She walked more slowly now, trying to get a better look at his partially concealed face. As she approached more closely, he suddenly lifted his head and spoke.
“Thank God. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. I didn’t know what else to do so I came here to wait for you. A little longer and I was going to call the cops. I wasn’t quite sure what I was wrong to tell them but I couldn’t think of anything else to do.”
Larry stood up from his crouched position as he spoke.
“You scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know it was you all bunched up like that” she replied in a relieved voice.
“It’s not your fault. I’m so jumpy now that a leaf hitting the ground could shake me” she added apologetically.
Larry reached toward her and put his arm around her waist.
“Let me open the door” she said and slowly pulled away from his gentle grasp.
“I hope you don’t think I had anything to do with this” he said as she unlocked the door.
“It did enter my mind” Rita replied briskly.
“How else?” she added hoping with all her might for an even slightly plausible explanation.
“Look Rita” he answered as they entered the apartment, “I just happen to know a cop in Jersey and I found out about you. That means a guy like House with the contacts he’s probably got, could find out what you ate for supper on the third Saturday in June of 1975.”
He paused.
“I’m disappointed that it ever entered your mind” he said softly.
Rita stood silently for a moment. Then she turned towards him.
“It would have entered your mind too. I didn’t say I thought it was true, did I? I just wanted to hear you tell me it wasn’t.”
With that they embraced each other with a long; passionate kiss. For the first time since the evening began Rita felt safe. Her mental turmoil subsided in the warmth of the moment and she was temporarily freed from the menacing reality that surrounded her.

Chapter XIV

His senses were greeted by a foul, musty odor as he slowly regained consciousness. It was a combination of urine and dampness that mingled together to produce the overpowering, heavy, stale air surrounding him. Ed squinted into the darkness, trying to recall the events that put him into this dungeon.
Then he felt a hard lump in his throat as he tried to swallow and his memory came rushing back. He slowly reached towards his neck. The stinging sensation his touch produced reminded him of the last gasping moments, just before he blacked out.
As he opened his eyes more widely, he could see a faint shimmer of light striking an opposite wall. It appeared as a dim bluish green thread, like the color of that cast by a street lamp.
He struggled to raise himself from the cold, dirty floor. Unable to do so, he crawled towards the wall to gain its support. Finally, erecting himself into a sitting position., he sat with back against the wall and legs out spread. The thin ray of light now streamed across his chest and he could see its source as the crack between two boards covering a small window opening at the top of the adjacent wall. Its meager illumination now allowed him to see a bit more clearly. His cell appeared to be a small basement storage bin, the kind used by tenants in old apartment buildings.
At the far side of the bin was the dim outline of a doorway. Seeing it, Ed immediately propped his shoulder against the wall and attempted to slide himself up it into a standing position. Using the wall as support, he moved slowly towards the door.
Upon reaching it, he turned the loose, rusty knob and the door opened several inches and then came to an abrupt stop. He reached through the narrow space and felt the heavy chain securing it.
With that, he began to stumble about the room, searching for a tool with which to pry the chain loose. He groped mindlessly back and forth across the narrow confines of the bin.
Suddenly, through the silence, he heard the sound of footsteps and muffled voices. He stood stone still, trying to decide where they were coming from and what they were saying. They appeared to come from the window side of the bin and he moved closer to that wall.
He waited. Now he could faintly hear the voices just outside the window.
“Man, you gonna drink that whole motherfuckin’ bottle?” one drawled in a song like tone.
“What you mean by that?” another voice replied in a similar sing-song fashion.
“It’s my bottle, aint it?”
“Shit, I gave in a buck to it”
Now the voices became louder and the footsteps slowed.
Then Ed saw the pencil of light on the wall flash. It flashed again as its stream was momentarily interrupted by a passerby.
From the sound and the light he knew they must be just outside the window and he yelled up towards the tiny boarded opening with all the strength he had left.
“Hey! Hey you!”
The noise outside stopped.
Then he heard a reply coming through the boards.
“What’s you want down there, you junkie jive ass?”
“I’m not a junkie: I’m trapped down here. Get some help. Please!” Ed screamed frantically.
“This boy say he’s trapped down there. What you think Spider?”
“I say he’s trapped OK on some smack like all those needle jabbers in there. The boy’s trapped cause he’s probably fresh outta shit”
“No Ed protested as loudly as he could. I’m locked in. Help me get out and I’ll pay you.”
“You gonna pay us?” the voice came back mockingly.
“What’s you doin’? Diggin’ a gold mine in that cellar and you’re gonna give us some?” and they both laughed loudly.
“I say piss on the fool. Let’s go, man.”
The sound of footsteps resumed and mingled with the departing hoots and jeers as both slowly faded into the distance. Ed sank to the floor. As he laid there in trance like exhaustion he passed alternately between states of consciousness and unconsciousness.
After a time, he was aroused by the sound of approaching voices again but this time they were coming from the other side of the chained door. Again, he felt his pulse beginning to race at the thought of escape. Maybe they’d come back after all!
Then as they became louder, he could hear their conversation and his hopes faded into panic.
“Now, you gotta do this right like I told ya.
I’ll give you the key and he’s all yours. I don’t even wanna see the mother fucker after what happened to Bull. That sucker’s bad luck.
That car hittin’ us like it did was a one in a million shot. I couldn’t believe it.