The whole thing sounded like an elaborate prank, and Rudywasn't about to take the bait, but then Iceman fell silent. Not long after, heheard groaning, and wet sounds, almost as if someone were chewing steak veryloudly with their mouth open. The sound was grossing him out, so Rudy backedout of the lobby when the game was over.
Through the door of his apartment, he heard footstepspounding down the hallway. By the time he got to the peephole on his frontdoor, his neighbor had already passed and slammed her door shut.
He was about to go back to the comfort of his reclinerwhen he heard an odd groan in the hallway. Slowly, the form of the man that hadbeen chasing him shuffled into sight. Rudy became acutely aware that hisbreathing was far too loud. Each inhalation sounded as loud as a vacuum cleanerin his ears, while every exhalation seemed even louder. He thought about movingbackwards slowly, away from the door, but his bulk had a tendency of renderingany of his attempts at silence completely futile.
The man with the bloody jaw stopped and looked at hisdoor, as if he could almost sense Rudy's presence. Rudy's heart beat within hischest as if it wanted to burst through his ribcage and go for a walk on itsown. The man turned and faced his door completely, and Rudy got as good a lookat the man as he had ever wanted. The veins in his face were dark, as if he hadliquid licorice running through his body. His eyes were oddly speckled, and hislips were cracked and dry. The blood on his jaw dripped down his shiny greenjacket, and the man didn't seem to care about any of it. His eyes searched thedoor for something.
After an eternity locked eye to eye with the man, hefinally lost interest and stumbled his way down the hallway. Rudy took a giantstep back from the door, and he must have hit the sweet spot on the hardwoodflooring of his apartment. The creak wasn't the loudest thing he had everheard, but at 4 in the morning in a mostly silent apartment building, it wasn'tall that easy to miss.
It seemed like it was only one intense heartbeat beforethe man in the hallway was banging on his door. Rudy fumbled for his cellphone, and he slid it open to expose the keyboard. His thick digits struggledto dial 911, and when he finally got through, there was no answer. A busysignal was all he got. How could the police have a busy signal?
The door rattled in the frame as the man in the hallwaycontinued to bang on the door. His groaning wasn't making the matter anybetter. Just when he thought the door might give way, Rudy heard a voice in thehallway.
"Oi. What the fuck do you think you're doin'? It'sfour in the fuckin' mornin' and I gotta get up in two hours." It was hisBritish neighbor across the hall, a cranky sort, who always seemed to havesomething negative to say. He could see the hate in his eyes whenever theypassed each other in the hallway, but he was glad the bastard lived across thehallway just now.
The lack of an answer from the bloody man in the hallwaywasn't the appropriate response for his neighbor apparently. He slammed hisdoor closed behind him as he stepped into the hall and yelled, "Hey,dickhead, I'm talking to you!" There was another silent pause, and then agroan from the bleeding man.
"Back the fuck up, or you'll be bleeding from yournose as well as your chin," his neighbor yelled.
Rudy used the noise as a distraction to scoot closer tothe peephole in the door. Unfortunately, the peephole's field of view wasn'twide enough to allow him to see the door to his neighbor's apartment as thedoors on either side of the hallway were staggered.
He heard his neighbor strain, and say, "Get the fuckoff me!" At that point, Rudy threw the locks on his door and risked a peekinto the hallway. His neighbor, clad only in a pair of sweatpants, waspummeling the man in the hallway. They were locked in an embrace, and thoughhis neighbor's punches landed with a meaty thud every time, the other manseemed to not even notice them.
Blood from the man's jaw dripped down his neighbor'schest, and he could see that he had busted his knuckles open on the man. Theman with the bleeding jaw seemed oblivious to the fact that the bone structureof his face had been completely rearranged.
His neighbor was tired and sweaty, and his blows landedwith less and less ferocity and frequency. Somehow, his neighbor noticed himpeeking out his doorway. "Oi, fatstuff, why don't you get out here andhelp me?"
The split second it took his neighbor to call out to himwas enough of a distraction for the man with the bleeding jaw to get a thickbite in on the bicep of the British man. His neighbor popped the man across thechin, and teeth came flying out, along with a chunk of his own flesh from hisknuckles.
"I'm calling the cops!" he informed hisneighbor before he slammed his own door shut. He turned the deadbolt on hisdoor and ran to the furthest corner of his apartment. He used his pudgy fingersto dial 911, but the number was busy just as it was before. He could still hearhis neighbor and the man struggling in the hallway. This night sucked.
Chapter 20: Never Too Late
Dustinstood out front with the cops. He had told them his entire story, but theydidn't quite believe every word of it. Luckily, they had received a steadystream of calls, so they were in a hurry to be out and about. They took downhis statement and his information, and when the crime scene photographer hadleft and the coroner had arrived, they let him go about his business. One ofthem told him not to leave
