Blind God's Bluff A Billy Fox Novel - By Richard Lee Byers Page 0,1

where his eyeballs should have been.

I wasn’t the kind of guy who volunteers at the Salvation Army or sends money to African orphans, and I had my own problems. But the old man had just had his eyes poked out! Hoping that I’d already shaken Pablo off my tail, I headed toward him.

He heard me coming, cringed, lost his balance, and fell on his butt. “Easy,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to get you to a hospital.”

At first, he didn’t answer. I realized he was sizing me up as best he could. He sniffed twice, like he could smell me from fifteen feet away.

“You’re not part of it,” he said.

“If you mean, I’m not whoever hurt you, you’re right. I’ve got my phone.” I reached into my pocket. “I’ll call 911.”

I hadn’t done it to get Pablo off my ass, because that, too, would only have made my situation worse. But I could do it to get the old man an ambulance.

Except that he said, “No! No police!”

“No,” I said, “not the police. Doctors.” Meanwhile, I moved closer, into the butcher-shop smell of his blood mixed with his natural eye-watering funk. Closer in, I could see little wounds all over the top half of his face. They made his skin look like a sponge, and made me think it hadn’t been two big jabs that destroyed his eyes, but rather, dozens of little ones.

“No authorities,” he said. He tried to get up. I took him by the arm and helped him, and then I could feel him shaking.

“You need a doctor,” I said. “You could keep bleeding, or go into shock. You could get an infection.”

But he wasn’t listening. He swiveled his head and sniffed. “Are they coming?” he asked.

I looked around, saw nobody, and told him, “No, it’s fine.” I took out my phone, opened it, and punched in the numbers.

The old guy grabbed for me, and, even though he had to grope, managed to get hold of my forearm. I tried to pull free without being too rough about it.

Something zapped me. The sensation sizzled through my body, from the spot where he was gripping me, through my shoulders, and on up the arm that was holding the phone. Which broke apart in a flash of heat and a crackle.

Reflex made me throw the pieces to the ground. “Shit!” I shouted.

The man with no eyes let go of me. “I told you,” he said.

I wasn’t really paying attention. I was busy looking at my hand, then using it to feel around my ear. I might end up with some blisters, but I didn’t think the little explosion—if that was the right word for it—had really hurt me.

I wondered what the hell had just happened. It had certainly seemed like the old guy had done something to the phone, except that I knew it was impossible. The phone must have been defective, and caught fire on its own.

“Get me under cover,” the old man said. “Inside somewhere.”

“Good idea,” I said. I could call 911 on the phone in some helpful person’s home. I looked around for someplace that looked occupied, and didn’t look like a crack house. I spotted the blue glow of a TV shining through some curtains.

I reached to take the old guy by the arm, then hesitated. Even though my brain insisted he couldn’t really have zapped me, my hand didn’t want to touch him.

Footsteps thumped the uneven sidewalk. Sweaty, rumpled, and scowling, Pablo jogged out of the dark.

By that time, I felt more annoyed than sorry for the old man. So I don’t know why I didn’t just take off. Stubbornness, maybe. I’d made up my mind I was going to help him, and that was that.

“It’s stupid to run,” Pablo said, huffing and puffing a little. “It only makes it worse.”

“Can we do this later?” I answered. “Look at this guy. He needs to go to the hospital.”

Pablo’s eyes flicked to the old man, then back to me. “Not my problem.”

“Come on. Act like a human being for once in your life. Get out your phone and call 911. I’ll wait with him.”

“You should worry about 911 for yourself. Have you got Mrs. Sullivan’s money?”

I sighed. “I ran from you, genius. What do you think?”

Pablo glared. “I think you act stupid and talk stupid. I’m not somebody you want to piss off.”

The guy with no eyes sniffed and pivoted back and forth. “They are coming! We have to take