Read Online The Mummies of Blogspace9 by William Doonan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: William Doonan
Ads: Link
asked for a phone, but I’m told that’s not possible. Apparently all cell phone traffic in Europe is recorded, and it wouldn’t be a good idea for you to be in contact with me right now. Because you see, Michelle, I am a wanted man, a murderer if you believe the police. They have made my “confession” public. I read about myself in the newspaper today. My mother always told me I’d be famous, and you know what? She was right.
I can’t reveal where I am, of course. But I am among people who I now, for reasons of having no goddamn choice, consider friends.
It’s two in the morning; I slept most of the day. I suspect I was medicated but I don’t really care at this point. I’ve just consumed three frittatas and three liters of beer, so I think I’m up to the task of telling you about my rescue.
Melchor Negromonte, remember him – the old gypsy who shoved me into the room with the dead man last week? Well, he’s my new best friend. I asked him if he wanted me to keep his name out of this, and he just laughed. He’s accustomed to police harassment, he told me. And if the police want to come around his place talking nonsense about some lunatic American claiming he met with him, he’ll deny it straight away.
But it was he who had me rescued. He sent his trusted associate Radu, who is my new second best friend. Do you know where I was being held, Michelle? In the Alcazar itself, the old palace fortress of the Moors, right in the heart of old Seville, not five hundred yards from the Archive.
When Radu came through the door of my cell, I was terrified, but little did I know that my terror was only going to get worse. We ran out through the servants’ quarters, through parts of the Alcazar not visited by tourists. Dusty hallways with scuffed tiles and centuries of paint curling up along the walls, the smell of mildew was overpowering.
Escape proved to be a time-intensive activity as Radu dragged me from one shadow to the next, smashing through door after door while rogue policemen searched frantically. You’d think that would be loud enough, smashing through door after door, but it wasn’t. The doors were thin, and the wood so damp and worm-laden that you could push a finger straight through without much effort.
We climbed more stairs than I thought possible, tripping more often than not on loose or broken tiles, nearly tumbling to my death on several occasions. Finally we came out onto a little garden, the likes of which I have never seen. It was completely overgrown. Vines hung everywhere, weaving in and out of the eye sockets of the skulls that littered the ground. The decapitated enemies of the Caliph, Radu told me. I didn’t remember that part from the audio tour.
I heard footsteps all around us. The policemen were near, and I didn’t know which way to go. Radu grabbed hold of my arm and swung me through a door. It was by far the most solid door we had yet encountered, and it nearly cost me a rib, but we broke through. We found ourselves in a long hallway. I started to run but Radu held me back. “At this point,” he said, “you must keep moving. Do not stop for any reason. Do you understand?”
I nodded, and we sprinted the length of that hall, turning the corner and entering into the private recesses of the harem, where the Caliph kept his 800 women. “Keep moving,” Radu spat at me, pulling me along, but I could not. My legs betrayed me. My mind betrayed me. I thought I might die before I took another step.
It was still dark, but there was ample moonlight to see the stirrings in the harem rooms. Curtains were being drawn, intricate carpets were unrolled on tile patios. Chairs were dragged outside, and tea was being poured as the concubines awoke and began to move around. Even with just the moonlight, Michelle, it was clear that they were long dead.
“I’m leaving now,” Radu spat. “If you come, come. If not, you stay here. Police won’t enter, but ladies will soon notice you. I’ve
I can’t reveal where I am, of course. But I am among people who I now, for reasons of having no goddamn choice, consider friends.
It’s two in the morning; I slept most of the day. I suspect I was medicated but I don’t really care at this point. I’ve just consumed three frittatas and three liters of beer, so I think I’m up to the task of telling you about my rescue.
Melchor Negromonte, remember him – the old gypsy who shoved me into the room with the dead man last week? Well, he’s my new best friend. I asked him if he wanted me to keep his name out of this, and he just laughed. He’s accustomed to police harassment, he told me. And if the police want to come around his place talking nonsense about some lunatic American claiming he met with him, he’ll deny it straight away.
But it was he who had me rescued. He sent his trusted associate Radu, who is my new second best friend. Do you know where I was being held, Michelle? In the Alcazar itself, the old palace fortress of the Moors, right in the heart of old Seville, not five hundred yards from the Archive.
When Radu came through the door of my cell, I was terrified, but little did I know that my terror was only going to get worse. We ran out through the servants’ quarters, through parts of the Alcazar not visited by tourists. Dusty hallways with scuffed tiles and centuries of paint curling up along the walls, the smell of mildew was overpowering.
Escape proved to be a time-intensive activity as Radu dragged me from one shadow to the next, smashing through door after door while rogue policemen searched frantically. You’d think that would be loud enough, smashing through door after door, but it wasn’t. The doors were thin, and the wood so damp and worm-laden that you could push a finger straight through without much effort.
We climbed more stairs than I thought possible, tripping more often than not on loose or broken tiles, nearly tumbling to my death on several occasions. Finally we came out onto a little garden, the likes of which I have never seen. It was completely overgrown. Vines hung everywhere, weaving in and out of the eye sockets of the skulls that littered the ground. The decapitated enemies of the Caliph, Radu told me. I didn’t remember that part from the audio tour.
I heard footsteps all around us. The policemen were near, and I didn’t know which way to go. Radu grabbed hold of my arm and swung me through a door. It was by far the most solid door we had yet encountered, and it nearly cost me a rib, but we broke through. We found ourselves in a long hallway. I started to run but Radu held me back. “At this point,” he said, “you must keep moving. Do not stop for any reason. Do you understand?”
I nodded, and we sprinted the length of that hall, turning the corner and entering into the private recesses of the harem, where the Caliph kept his 800 women. “Keep moving,” Radu spat at me, pulling me along, but I could not. My legs betrayed me. My mind betrayed me. I thought I might die before I took another step.
It was still dark, but there was ample moonlight to see the stirrings in the harem rooms. Curtains were being drawn, intricate carpets were unrolled on tile patios. Chairs were dragged outside, and tea was being poured as the concubines awoke and began to move around. Even with just the moonlight, Michelle, it was clear that they were long dead.
“I’m leaving now,” Radu spat. “If you come, come. If not, you stay here. Police won’t enter, but ladies will soon notice you. I’ve
Similar Books
