Monochrome Read Online Free PDF Page A

have done it this time if not for the…” She paused, trying to think of what to call the overbearing dread she experienced before passing out.
    “I guess I don’t know what it was. It felt like a heart attack or something. My arms were fuzzy, my breathing labored…” She rubbed her arms, remembering the tingling sensation that hit her before being undone by the crippling fear and pain smashing into her chest, crushing her lungs.
    Ishmael’s haunted gaze dropped and he returned to the conversation. “Panic attack. Yeah, those are scary.”
    She felt stupid. “Of course it was a panic attack. I thought I was having some sort of cardiac arrest. I’d just never felt anything like it before.”
    He motioned for the bartender who lazily ambled their way. “Anxiety attacks are a weekly deal for me, so I empathize.”
    She was about to ask him to elaborate, when the bartender finally greeted them. He was short, balding and sported a large beer belly. He wore a stained t-shirt, stretched over his girth and an apron over grey sweats. He breathed heavily when he talked.
    “Ishmael. What can I get you and your new Lead?” He didn’t take of notice Abigail yet, and she suspected he was fighting the urge to do so. Ishmael got out his pack of cigarettes and placed them on the counter. “Whiskey and coke for me. You’ll have to ask her what she wants.”
    The bartender faced her and shook his head. “They get younger and younger.” His reaction made her feel very self-conscious.
    Ishmael lit a cigarette. “She’s older than me, Jim. Just doesn’t look it. Just get her what she wants.”
    Jim eyed her. “What’ll it be, young lady? Here to drown your sorrows or attempt a try at the border?”
    Jim’s question angered Ishmael, who shot him a glare that could freeze boiling water. She noticed, for the first time, Jim’s eyes were a black-brown color, instead of solid black.
    She ignored his question, but ordered anyway. “A double shot of whiskey, on the rocks.” The short man nodded, and walked away to get them their drinks.
    Ishmael’s leg shook his stool and he fidgeted with the cigarette in his hand. “Jim’s not been here long.” His voice was a quiet growl. “He doesn’t know to keep his opinions to himself yet.”
    She shrugged. “I think he was trying to be nice, though a bit nosy.”
    “To you, yes, but he was trying to annoy me.”
    She frowned, baffled. She must’ve missed something important, but she couldn’t imagine what. “Ishmael, I…”
    But he cut her off by standing and placing his cigarette in the over-full tin ashtray in front of him. “Just take my word for it, Abby; he’s trying to get on my nerves. I was friendly with the bartender before him, but Tom offed himself four months ago. Jim took his place and has been a pain in my ass ever since.”
    Abigail gaped at the casual mention of the suicide of someone he supposedly liked. “I’m sorry, Ishmael…”
    He interrupted her. “Don’t be. Business as usual for this place.”
    He faced her, his face a mask of guilt. He placed his hand on her shoulder, an awkward thing to do in such a situation. She almost jumped off her stool as a small electric shock coursed through her. She jumped in surprise, expecting him to be weirded out by the shock. But he either didn’t feel what she had or was aware of it and was nonplussed. He averted his eyes and sighed brokenly.
    “I’m going to the bathroom,” he muttered, not even glancing at her as he walked away. His shoulders hung with the slant of defeat. Jim came over when Ishmael went to the bathroom and placed their drinks in front of her.
    “There you go, lady.”
    She shook off the feeling of Ishmael’s touch. But she still wondered over his strange and aggressive behavior. She usually felt like drinking. The syrupy thickness sliding down her throat was her sweet companion. The iced drink first cooled than warmed her, made her think less, feel less…But today was one of only a