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The Sound of Wind

Page 64

by Raegan Millhollin


  **

  “Holy crap Hugo, stop pacing, you’re starting to make me nervous!” Steve exclaimed, exasperated.

  “You’d think this was your first time,” Chen interjected, his smirk demonstrating that he was clearly amused.

  Hugo stopped long enough to put out his cigarette, but when he tried to light another Peggy strode up to him, snatching the pack out of his hand, “You’re about to go up onstage, I’m going to kill you if you don’t cut that out,” she barked, “You’re going to ruin your voice, you idiot.”

  “Thanks Peggy,” Hugo smiled thinly. She tsked, rolling her eyes, then crumpled up the pack and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. Hugo looked mournfully after it, but didn’t say anything. Instead he poured his second shot of vodka. Strangely he was less worried about getting shot than he was about embarrassing himself during the performance. Crysta was going to have to sit through it.

  Suddenly the cheering started, rising like a wave. “Alright boys, it’s time to get out there!” Peggy announced with a huge grin, swatting Hugo on the shoulder. He downed the shot, then headed after his band mates for the stage. He walked into the near-blinding light, quickly grabbing the guitar waiting for him. He approached the mike with several measured breaths, trying to keep his hands from shaking while he pretended he could see the people in the crowd. He opened his mouth, but the scripted introduction wouldn’t come out of it, so before anyone could get suspicious, he launched into the first song of their set, “Weapons of Legend,” he’d worry about talking later.

  It didn’t take long for that familiar feeling to come over him; the music consumed everything else, so he’d completely forgotten about the potential shooting until the sound of gunfire rang out, echoing just as the applause was dying. Everyone scattered, screaming. Hugo jumped off the stage, away from the bright lights. He heard the soft plinking of the bullets as they dropped to the ground. Crysta was standing over a man who had fallen down, a gun lying on the ground behind her. Her eyes were dark. She had her hands in the pockets of her sweater.

  “You’re going to explain why you tried to shoot my friend over here.” Her voice held a flat tone that he’d never expected to hear from her. She leaned down when the man didn’t immediately answer, “Now.”

  “I can’t,” the man started to scramble to his feet, there was desperation in his voice.

  “Did I say you could get up yet?” She asked curiously. The man immediately sat back down. “Now, why can’t you explain why you tried to murder someone?” The man fidgeted. “We don’t have a lot of time. The police will be here soon and they’re not going to be nearly as nice as I am being.”

  The man looked around frantically, but there was nowhere to run, “Someone told me to.”

  “Who?”

  “I-I don’t know. I woke up three days ago and I got this phone call from some guy, he didn’t give me a name, just said if I killed him," the man gestured vaguely at Hugo, "they’d give me my memory back. Said I could see my wife and kid again. I had this picture on me,” he pulled a picture from his back pocket, offering it to Crysta. She took it, glanced down at it, and then passed it on to Hugo. It was a picture of the man with a smiling woman and a little girl, but what Hugo saw was a blue thing (man was too generous a term), with several tentacles flailing out of its broad back. It was standing in a lab, phone to its ear.

  “Who is this?” The monster asked in a voice that hissed. And then he turned and Hugo could see his flat, black eyes.

  “Hugo, are you alright?” Dr. McFadden was staring at him, alarm in her voice.

  Hugo picked the photo off the ground where he’d dropped it and handed it back to the guy. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, a pressure was building there, “I…I’m fine,” he waved his hand dismissively. He looked back down at the man on the ground, “You don’t remember anything?”

  The man shook his head, “Nothing past three days ago. I would have tried to find my family myself, but how? I have no identification. All I have is a cell phone and that gun.”

  “You can’t remember anything?” Hugo knew he was repeating himself, but it was a frightening thought.

  Sirens could be heard in the background, and then suddenly there was pounding on the stage. “Hugo! Hugo!” Steve was screaming.

  Hugo looked up, waving a little, “Steve, I’m here!”

  Steve ran down the steps, nearly crashing into him, “Holy crap dude! Thank god you’re not dead! When you weren’t outside with us, I thought you’d-who are these people?”

  “That’s my friend Dr. McFadden, and this uh…this…is…um, he tried to stop the person who was shooting at us. He managed to get the gun, but they got away.”

  Crysta stared at him open-mouthed, the guy on the ground had a similar expression. Steve immediately walked up to him and helped the guy to his feet, “Thanks dude. You saved our lead singer. You rock.”

  Hugo started laughing. He couldn’t help it even though everyone was looking at him like he was crazy.

  “Well, better get outside, the police are gonna want to talk to you guys,” Steve gestured towards the door.

  “Alright Steve, we’ll be right there,” Hugo replied.

  “Ok man. Damn, I’m glad you’re not dead.”

  “Me too,” Hugo returned a smile. Steve hit him on the back, hard, then ran out the exit. Hugo pulled out his wallet and took all the cash out of it, “Here. Get a place to stay for the night, give me the photo and your number, I'll find your family for you,” The man gaped at him. “The police are going to be in here soon. Go.” The man handed over the photo and his number, and then ran.

  Dr. McFadden was staring at him, concerned, “Are you sure?”

  “He wasn’t lying,” Hugo started walking towards the exit.

  Crysta’s frown deepened, “But should I need to remind you, he tried to kill you. What if he tries again?”

  “He won’t, he didn’t want to do it the first time. But now he won’t get his memory back either. I had to do something.”

  The doctor sighed, but didn’t argue. A moment later she was smiling slightly. He wondered what about.

  “Wanna come to the after-party?” Hugo asked, his hand on the door.

  Crysta blinked several times, “You just got shot at, are you guys really going to…?”

  Hugo laughed, scratching the back of his head, “Is there a better time to have a party?”

  She shook her head at him, but the smile widened, “Ok. I’ll come, for a little while.”

 

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