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dr naysleep

400 grand pays for a lot.

Right now it's paying for me not to get the hell out of here.

I'm standing on a short sidewalk that leads to a long, steep flight of stone steps,

which in turn lead up to a building that has seen much better days.

Well, considering what it is, or used to be, maybe the better days were few and far between.

At the top of the stone steps is a set of double doors.

Above the doors, carved in stone, is the name Helmouth Psychiatric Hospital for the criminally insane. You can see why I

want to get the hell out of here. Behind me is a black town car with a driver

fumbling in the trunk for my stuff. I spin around to

see what's taking him so long and come face to chest with the enormous son of a

bitch. I mean, Newell, that's his name, is huge.

He has to be over 6-5.

Maybe what, 260, 275?

Freckin huge.

Phone, Nuell says, a massive palm held out to me.

Where's my stuff? I ask. I have tools and need it.

Phone.

No, repeats. His hand still waiting.

...