Читать книгу Sqerm - James A. Moore - Страница 22

Chapter 18

In downtown Phoenix, the night remained warm even after the sun had set. The vast quantities of cement and concrete held on to the day’s heat like a cast-iron skillet. In a parking garage near the upscale local nightclub scene, an attractive young lady was utilizing an app on her phone to record a video message to her friends. She had been out partying into the late hours and was bragging about a gentleman that she met that night. She was in a short, tight leather skirt and five-inch stiletto heels. Her brunette hair, somewhat disheveled from dancing, played with the smooth skin on her shoulders. She was high off of the night’s activities and seemed to be fending off a hint of intoxication. Though she had been drinking, she was not drunk. She strolled through a moderately lighted area to her vehicle and showed no concern about the lack of light. This was a familiar journey that she had made dozens of times in search of a beau. As she walked to her car, she reached into her purse to grab her phone. Now with the phone in hand, she put her smartphone to her face and activated a communication app so that she could use the camera as a mirror to adjust her hair. Once her hair was a perfected mane and her primping was complete, she hit record on the app on her smartphone. She smiled widely; there was a bit of arrogance in her expression.

“Girl, I know you think I am drunk…but I am not. I am buzzed though,” she giggled as she walked.

As she arrived at her car, she fumbled with her free hand in an attempt to search her purse for keys. As she located and grasped the car keys, she was overcome with the necessity to scratch her inner ear. The need was intense enough that she dropped her keys back into the purse to free her hand. She inserted her finger into her ear and wiggled it, being careful not to injure her eardrum with her lengthy, well-manicured nails. After a few seconds, the itching subsided. She shivered in a fashion similar to the way one would after an arm hair stimulating sneeze.

Now that her arm hair had returned to its former position, she again began to focus on the phone. As she looked back up and into the phone, there was the briefest flash of two eyes, red eyes. Being that she had partaken in the drink, she paid them no mind. There was a struggle; the sound of a purse thudding on the ground gently echoed through the garage. This was followed by the cacophony of keys and a phone crashing to the warm cement.