Now Spit
Troy D. Smith
Smashwords Edition
Now Spit
Presented by Publishing by Rebecca J. Vickery
Digital ISBN: 978-1-4661-3480-5
Copyright © 2012 Troy D. Smith
Cover Art Copyright © 2012 Miss Mae
Editor: Joshua Shinn
Design Consultant: Laura Shinn
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Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
Now Spit is a work of fiction.
Though actual locations may be mentioned, they are used in a fictitious manner and the events and occurrences were invented in the mind and imagination of the author except for the inclusion of actual historical facts. Similarities of characters or names used within to any person – past, present, or future – are coincidental except where actual historical characters are purposely interwoven.
Jerry Carp is minding his own business, going about his simple, average life as always, but then, something happens. He wakes in an unknown place to find his hands tied – and he’s not alone. Another man nearby, also tied, begins sobbing.
A noise from the next room grows louder; there are muffled cries, a whining shriek, finally nothing...
Chapter One
Jerry Carp's lids lifted slowly, then fluttered. The light was dim. Jerry had trouble remembering where he was – at first it seemed he was home in his own bed – but then the raspy pressure of the ropes on his wrists jerked his mind to the here and now. He gasped as sudden fear slammed back into his heart.
He jerked at his bonds. His arms worked furiously, but there was no give in the ropes at all. The flurry of movement attracted the attention of someone else in the room – a muffled voice tried to call out. The other man was bound and gagged, like Jerry, and terror oozed out of him like fluid along with his sweat. Something about the other prisoner was vaguely familiar, but Jerry could not pinpoint it.
I wonder if he knows why we're here. Jerry probed into his own memory, trying to come up with any reasonable motive for his abduction. He had no enemies that he knew of. He lived a very quiet life. He had been walking toward his car in the parking garage, having just closed down the office and sent his secretary Mrs. Arbogast home for the night, when a man stepped from the shadows and grabbed him. Jerry remembered the distinct smell of chloroform and the pressure of the man's gloved hand upon his face, and nothing else.
Jerry thought he heard garbled cries coming from the other side of the closed door – they seemed very far away – and a dull whine. Across the room, his fellow captive began to sob. The noises continued for a long time. Jerry could not single them out, although there seemed to be at least two different voices, but they made his skin crawl. The other prisoner began to slowly beat the back of his head against the wall.
The noises culminated in a high-pitched shriek, then stopped abruptly. After a minute or so, the whining resumed – it sounded almost like a piece of construction equipment. It reminded Jerry of his own drill, back at the office.
Then, he heard the footsteps.
Chapter Two
They approached the closed door from the other side. Apparently there was a long hallway between the two rooms. The steps echoed loudly, making Jerry shudder. The man – he assumed it was a man as the tread was heavy and deliberate – seemed to be in no hurry.
The door opened, and the light was switched on. Jerry blinked at the brightness of it, and squinted a moment, trying to focus on the newcomer.
The man who stood in the doorway smiled broadly. The smile was unnatural, for it took up most of his face and showed no evidence of disappearing, or even of lessening. The smile seemed to have a life of its own, as if it were dragging the skinny face along with it for company. The man's hair was disheveled. His hands were clasped behind his back. His eyes bulged slightly, like a child's on Christmas morning.
And there was the lab coat, of course. The blood spattered on it was fresh.
He walked across the room and stood over Jerry's fellow prisoner. "Thank you so much for being patient with us, Doctor Simmons," their captor said. Now, hearing the man's name spoken, Jerry knew why he was familiar – it was Bob Simmons, a colleague from across town. Like Jerry, Simmons was a dentist.
"I believe I will be able to fit you in first thing in the morning," the man in the lab coat said to Simmons. His voice was friendly and cheerful. "I'll have to tidy the examining room up a bit first, you know. Our last patient seems to have lost control of his bowels. Very nasty. Some people just can't seem to control their silly fears about orthodontics. I'm sure you've both seen plenty of that, eh?" The man chuckled.
Then, he turned and walked over to Jerry. "Forgive me," he said. "I get all wrapped up in my work and forget my manners sometimes. I am Doctor Jurgens." He held his hand out, as if to shake Jerry's.
Jerry's eyes widened when he saw the hand was covered with blood.