The Postmortal Read Online Free PDF Page A

cleared all those niggling obsessions from my mind. It was nice out, and I was about to stay twenty-nine years old for the rest of my life. Nothing else mattered.
    Again, the doorman let me sail right through to the elevator. I jammed the button and stared at the number glowing above the door as it moved progressively downward: eight, seven, six, five . . . still on five . . . still on five . . . still on five . . . Jesus, was someone herding buffalo into the car? It began moving again, finally settling on L.
    The door opened, and out stepped an unreasonably attractive woman. My fervent urge to get in the elevator was instantly destroyed. She was nearly six feet tall (I’m six foot six), naturally tanned. California blonde. If she hadn’t been standing before me, I’d have sworn she could only be created with Photoshop. She radiated like some kind of bright-shining beacon, welcoming all to a newly discovered paradise, a gateway to unimaginable happiness.
    She saw me, gave a small smile, and said hi in a party girl’s raspy voice. I said hi back. I think I said hi back. I may have simply mouthed it and forgotten to make an audible sound. That’s probably what I did.
    She walked right past me. I turned to look. So did the doorman. She was the promise of eternal youth made flesh. A feeling of incredible urgency lit up my system. The kind of instant love you know isn’t the real thing but feels like it all the same. She had an impossible body, athletic and voluptuous all at once. Somehow. Some way. I have no idea. I immediately hoped she was coming from Dr. X’s office. I’ve never wanted to live forever so badly.
    She breezed out of the entranceway and turned to walk down the street, out of view. I carefully etched the outline of her body into the most easily accessed part of my brain. That accomplished, I turned to the elevator to get back to business. It had already closed and gone back up. Eight, seven, six, five . . . still on five . . . still on five . . . Christ.
    I made it to Dr. X’s door and knocked again. He let me in. His eyes were bloodshot. He beckoned me in and closed the door. I immediately handed him the cash, relieved that I no longer had to be its guardian.
    “Oh, excellent,” he said. “Thank you. Would you like a receipt?”
    “You give receipts?”
    “Oh, sure. I mean, they’re not explicit. They don’t say, ‘Hey, I did something illegal.’ But I’ve had more than my fair share of clients who have employers that would happily cover the cost for this kind of thing.”
    Scores was within ten blocks of the building. I immediately put two and two together.
    “Before we get started,” I said, “I have a question.”
    “Always with the questions. I like that you’re so inquisitive.”
    “There was a blonde woman I saw walking out of the building. She was attractive. Highly attractive. Was she here just now, getting the cure?”
    “I can’t answer that question. You know that.”
    “But she was, right?”
    “Again, I can’t answer that.”
    He gave me a look that told me she was.
    “Can I have her number?”
    “What did I just say? Look, do you want these shots or not?”
    “Yes, yes! Sorry.”
    “Okay. Come on over to the chair.”
    He led me over to a chair in the corner of the apartment. It had a lap belt and straps to bind your wrists and ankles. I became alarmed. “What the hell is this?”
    “The restraints help keep you in place during the injections,” he said. “If I don’t use them, you wiggle all over the place and the whole thing takes forever.”
    “I thought you said these were three simple shots.”
    “They are. But I have to inject them deep into your tissue. If you want, I can apply a small amount of local anesthesia to each area. I do it for some of the female patients.”
    “So this will hurt?”
    “It’s an ageless life, John. Did you really expect it to be painless?”
    I relented and got in the chair. He buckled me in, and I quickly had a vision in