Chapter 37:// Giving up

 

Leo was standing across the street, looking up at Katerina’s flat.

He felt better, the poison had been flushed out of his body and his wound was closing, it wasn’t that deep after all. But he was a fugitive, and a turban guy with a big-ass cobra wanted him dead.

A conspiracy? Really? Heck, maybe the cobra simply saw him and decided he would make a nice snack, how would he know?

He stuffed his good hand in his pocket and turned away from the flat, walking in the night.

He was alone.

 

His best friend Jimmy had done what he could, he had to stay away, out of the picture.

His boss would turn him in in an instant. The man was shocked with what he witnessed at his office, and would be the prime witness to testify against him.

Mom had flown away to Canada, finding her purpose in life as a landscaper even at a late age. No, she was away and happy. Even if he managed to contact her without getting caught, what could she possibly do from halfway across the world, apart from worry herself to death?

Anna, his ex-girlfriend? Bad idea. It was a bad idea then, when he hooked up with her and it remained a bad idea now, when he needed help.

Katerina? He barely knew her. She seemed like a good person, and would hate for something to happen to her because of his mess.

 

He leaned on a railing and stared down at the city below. He remembered her nice house, how clean and tidy it looked, how soft the surfaces were. He had walked just a few minutes ago the neighbourhood she was living in, and he was certain that Katerina’s house was like an oasis in a desert of crappy cheap boxes to live in.

He looked around, and saw a young couple holding hands. The man was keeping the woman’s hands warm as they walked, their bodies close to one another.

He imagined himself and Katerina in their place. A casual stroll after a workday and a nice warm meal.

And then a cobra jumped up and ate them alive.

Not the young couple of course, but the one in his imagination.

He gasped for air and propped himself to the railing, staring intently at his feet. He felt feverish again, he clasped his forehead but he couldn’t tell if he was sick or not. He was suddenly aware of the bite in his thigh, now stinging and hot like someone was pouring scalding water on it.

His leg gave way and he let himself fall on the ground, gasping.

He picked up a dirty plastic bag someone had tossed from a souvlaki takeaway, and breathed in it to fend off the panic attack, while ignoring the oily smell.

He closed his eyes but it was worse.

All he could see was the cobra’s slit eyes staring at him like he was delicious meat.