Book and Blade: Book One of the Hand of Perdition Read Online Free

up here?"
    "What's the last thing you remember?" the man Christopher thought was a cop asked.
    "Excuse me detective," the doctor interrupted, "but I need to ask you to wait until I have finished my exam before you start with the questions."
    "Of course Doctor," the detective said and stepped back.
    The doctor did his exam, flashing a light in Christopher's eyes and asking him a series of questions obviously designed to gauge his state of mind. He checked the dressing and seem satisfied with everything. He told the nurse to take Christopher off the oxygen and prescribed more medication. Christopher hoped it was pain medication, now that he was awake his shoulder was starting to ache.
    "Well Christopher, you are a lucky guy. Both gunshots wounds were fairly superficial and should heal nicely. The head shot was the only thing that was really worrying us, but now that you’re awake, I think recovery should be fairly quick."
    He turned to the detective.
    "We'll need to keep him for at least a week, probably two to keep an eye on the wounds in his shoulder and head." To Christopher he said, "Everything looks great and the nurse here will make sure you get some painkillers. The detective here would like to ask you a few questions, but it’s totally up to you." He gave the detective a meaningful glance. "The moment you’re too tired let him know and he'll leave."
    "I hear you doctor. I’m here to help the kid, not hurt him," the detective said.
    The doctor gave him one more meaningful look and then nodded to the nurse. They left with one last smile at Christopher.
    "Christopher, I'm Detective Hamlin with the NYPD. I need to ask you a few questions about what happened on the train."
    "I have some questions too, like what happened? Why did someone try to kill me? Why is there a cop outside my door?"
    "And I will try to answer some of your questions, but first I have some for you. Before the incident on the train, did you have any unusual confrontations with any strangers? Did you think you were being watched or maybe even followed?"
    Now the conversation with the thing in the basement jumped forward from the back of his mind. But Christopher didn't think the detective was referring to that. Something told him this wasn't the time to bring it up.
    "No, nothing that I noticed."
    "Did your father speak to you about anything? Anything unusual? Did he call or try to get a message to you?"
    "No, I haven't talked to him for a while. The other day I sent an email with the train number I was taking so he could pick me up. Where is he by the way? Or my mom? I would think that at least one of them would have come around while I was here." He and his father had their problems, but he would like to think that somebody from the family would have stayed with him. It didn't make sense. Unless they were being kept out in the lobby while the detective was here.
    "What was the last thing you remember?" Hamlin asked.
    "I was on the train. I heard somebody scream and I looked up. This guy was standing there with a gun and he was pointing it at me. I tried to run, but he shot me in the arm and then the head. Then everything went dark. I have no idea who the dude was or why he was shooting at me. Must have been a nut."
    "He wasn't a nut, at least not in the way you mean. He was looking for you. His name is Karl Abeln. He is a suspected hitman in the employ of Ambros Falk. He’s a bigwig in organized crime here in the city."
    This shocked Christopher, "Why was he after me? I'm just a college kid..." He trailed off. His father.
    "It's because of my dad, isn't it? It has to be. They went after me to get to him."
    The detective sighed and looked down.
    "Yeah, it was because of your father, but not because they were trying to get to him. They already had."
    It took a second for it to sink in, but the look in the detective’s eyes made the meaning clear. It suddenly made horrible sense. Why his dad wasn't here by his side.
    "He's…my…he's dead? My father