Page 60 of Now Comes the Dark

He dipped low, checking the floor for any tell-tail legs and feet that would give away anyone hiding within the rails. There was no one.

Roman released his breath.

Whoever had attacked Mallon was not here now.

He rushed back to the living room. Mallon was sitting up straighter. His eyes fluttered.

“Roman,” he croaked.

“Don’t try to speak. I’ll get something for the blood.”

He raced to the bathroom, returning with a pile of towels.

“Let me check you over,” he said. “I need to stop this bleeding.”

“It’s just my nose,” Mallon said. “I took a beating. Bruises…nothing worse.”

“It looks a hell of a lot worse than that.”

Mallon winced as he gently dabbed a towel around his face.

“Bastard…jumped me from behind.”

Roman cautiously wiped the blood from Mallon’s torso and groin area, searching for any puncture wounds or lacerations. It was a relief to find none. “Who did it?”

“I’ve never seen him before.” Mallon flexed his fingers and wrists, getting the circulation going after the restriction.

“Was he waiting for you when you got home? I can’t see any sign of a break in, and it doesn’t look like anything has been taken, either. I’m going to call the police. You need an ambulance, too. We don’t know what kind of damage he could have done beneath the skin.”

“I’ll do some fucking damage if I see the bastard again.”

“That’s a problem for another time.”

“Clothes. Can you get me something to put on before you call anyone. I had just stepped out of the shower when he jumped me. There are jogging bottoms in the second drawer of the dresser.”

Roman watched him carefully. There didn’t appear to be any sign of confusion or concussion, at least not for now. He knew there could be a delay between injury and symptoms showing. Mallon needed to be checked out by a doctor. Satisfied that he was all right for the moment, he returned to the bedroom to fetch the jogging bottoms and a hoodie.

He eased the bottoms over Mallon’s feet and up to the knees before helping him to stand and pulling them all the way.

Mallon groaned in pain.

“Sit back down,” Roman told him.

“No, it’s easier if I stand.” He shuffled around until he could support himself against the back of the sofa.

Roman gave him a hand to get the hoodie on and fasten it. Mallon grimaced as he flexed his shoulders.

“Did you get a look at who did this?”

“Damn right. The bastard will wish he’d never been born when I see him again.”

“What did he look like?”

“Well-built and strong. He used his weight to his advantage. If he hadn’t taken me by surprise, it would not have made a difference. He hit me over the head and pinned me down while I was still out of it.”

Roman trembled. The adrenaline was wearing off. “He could have killed you. What else.”

“Early thirties, maybe. Blond. Dressed in black.”

---