-To the right now?- the black silhouette of the taxi driver turned around slightly and Charles could see his jaws chewing on some gum.
-Yes, that's what I said to you a secound ago- he said, trying to keep the illusion of calmness. The shadow faced the wheel again, ignoring the passive agressive remark. Charles' nerves were blank. It was only fifteen minutes ago that he had gotten a text from Erik. "comw quicklt need hrlp m on 22" the message said, and the spelling left no doubts about how serious the situation was. The time was also strange, it was late after 2 in the morning, Charles had just finished an academic paper he had been writing. He hadn't heard anything from Erik since he had dissapeared overnight once again a few weeks ago, without leaving any clues on where he might be.
Charles felt a sting and the warm, metallic taste of blood in his mouth as he bit his lip too hard. The habit always returned whenever he was stressed.
-Shit- he whispered sharply and wiped the red away with the sleeve of his jaquette.
-What?- the driver mistook the swearing for his client starting a conversation with him.
-Uh, nothing. Wait!- Charles saw the lights of the Grand Casino flashing behind the car window. -We passed it!-
-O.K., I'll make a turn then- the man behind the wheel remained calm, not to say bored. Charles glanced at the traffic before them
-Uhhh...you know what? I'll walk from here. Thanks.- The polite words came over his still bleeding lips with difficulty. Charles threw a 100 dollar bill on the passenger seat in the front and stormed out of the cab on the street. Dodging the cars he ran over to the right side of the street and back to where the building of the Casino lit up the whole main street. He turned into a small alley marked with the number 22. The stink of garbage spilled on the streets hit him as he was swallowed by the darkness and made his heavy breathing even harder. As soon as his eyes got used to the lack of artificial light, they started darting around to search the narrow street for his friend.
-Erik?- he shouted, his voice cracking as he realised how stupid calling loudly was. Lucky for him, there seemed to be no danger around anymore. Still, the rustling of plastic that he heard from a corner made him jump.
-Ch...charles?- a hoarse voice groaned quietly. The professor ran towards the direction where it came from.
The sight that emerged from behind a big, plastic trashcan was terrible. Laying on the ground was Erik. His body was curled up to as an attempt to shield itself from the heavy beating it had received. Charles' eyes were open wide in shock. He kneeled down next to his friend carefully and for a moment his hands hung in the air, clueless about what to do before they brushed the blood-crusted strands of hair from Erik's forehead to reveal several bruises. With a quick glance, Charles searched the trembling body laying before him for injuries and swallowed anxiously. Lensherr's arm was curled beneath him in an unnatural angle and his ribcage was rising irregularly.
-They...they got me when... I was... they almost killed me... I...they... outnumbered...please help...- Erik started muttering feverishly, tears rolling down his blue and purple face. He reached out with his healthy hand and searched for Charles' blindly.
-Hey, hey, calm down. They can't hurt you anymore- Charles said with a shaking voice, swallowing once again and rolling his lips under his teeth. -You're going to be fine, I'll just... have to call an ambulance and...- Charles freed his hand from Erik's desperate grasp forcefully and shook through the pockets of his coat in hope to find his mobile. Missing the numbers on the screen over and over again, he finally managed to dial the emergency number. After letting the phone slip into his pocket again, he saw that Erik had stopped crying and that his eyeballs were moving vigorously under the lids as a reaction to the pain. As Charles' pulse began to settle a bit, the smell of alcohol reached him. What have you gotten yourself into again?