Period of Transition

 

The stop that Randolph decided to get off at was at a small shopping district a good twenty minutes away from the hospital.

This section of the town was one he had never been to but was quite familiar with as it had been mentioned several times before by his old colleagues.

The mall that stood in front of him was shrouded in darkness. It gave birth to a dread that coiled around his heart. But steeling himself mentally, he headed on in.

The entrance of the mall was a chain fence, tough but easily climbable, which he did.

Slowing his pace down to a brisk walk, he entered deeper into the store, trying to keep himself as quiet as possible.

He had chosen the mall for several reasons. The first was that this was a publicly rented space by his local neighbourhood association. Simply put, it was a flea market exhibition. Security was basically nonexistent in it as only homeless men would want grossly overused clothing and accessories. There were also no cameras in the store due to the aforementioned reasons.

What greeted Randolph's eyes upon entering the store were many stands of merchandise. They had been neatly lined on racks that skimmed the entrance of the several displays in the mall.

The scent of blood spread through the mall where Randolph walked, but he didn't have the luxury to care about it.

He didn't stray too deep into the flea market, making a beeline for the used clothes.

Reaching a rack, he immediately grabbed anything that looked like it would fit him, hastily tearing them off the clothing racks. After doing so, he immediately vaulted back out of the mall. It was in the back alley near the mall, near the dumpster, that he paused to change.

Reaching into the dumpster, the young man picked out the largest and filthiest garbage bag he could see before beginning to change.

Upon stripping, he folded his clothes several times, compressing their size as much as possible before stuffing them into the large bag as deep as they could go.

"…" He frowned as he worked, the disgusting smell of rotted food and trash prickling his nose.

Pausing, he rubbed his forehead in resignation. Then, he opened the bag before dipping his entire body in garbage. He was essentially naked at this point save for his boxer shorts, and he could feel the disgusting oil and grime rubbing against his skin.

Randolph's brows furrowed into a scowl that was so deep it threatened to burn itself into his features, and a disgusted groan almost broke free from his mouth. But he forced back his revulsion, rolling around as much as he could in the bag.

After a good half a minute or so, the young man stood up wearily. Throwing on the used clothes he had picked out from the racks, he tied the bag up before stuffing it back into the dumpster.

His nerves were quite uptight as he worked and his eyes constantly shifted to his surroundings, half-expecting a face to pop up, but in the end nothing happened.

He safely made his way out of the market to the local street curb.

At this point, he appeared to be nothing more than a beggar. The stench of blood had been overpowered by the overwhelming smell of rotten food and garbage, and his used clothes helped to mask his identity.

Only when he reached one of the busy main streets did he allow himself to feel relief, and only when he feel relief did his heart start pounding again.

While it was fairly late at night, many cars still sped by on the main roads. They were the biggest guarantee to his safety, as more people meant less chances of danger.

It took the young man over half an hour of walking to reach one of the local strip malls. The strip mall contained a dollar store and department store, both places that would remain active for the entirety of the night until probably the early morning.

At the department store's parking lot, Randolph sat there resting for another half an hour until a familiar vehicle rolled into the lot.

It was an orange-coloured vehicle with a signpost build into its top. On its side was a long string of numbers as well as the words 'tangerine cab'.

This was a fairly popular trick that both he and his colleagues used to use. Most taxi cabs were basically out of commission now that online drivers had gained popularity. Therefore, they and their drivers would often listlessly drive around or wait in the parking lots of stores for a phone call, particularly ones that sold alcohol or tabaco.

Randolph didn't wait for the man to even get out of his car, knocking on the window as soon as he parked.

"What the fuck do you want? I don't have any money for you, piss off."

As the window rolled down, a gruff middle-aged man's face appeared. His tone was rough and provocative in an obvious attempt to scare off Randolph.

"Downtown's Oldbill plaza, do you know the way?"

"Huh? Ugh, what the hell?" As the window rolled down further, the cab driver pinched his nose as his face scrunched up in disgust. "You want a drive? Go take a damn shower first!"

Randolph responded with action, his movements swift. Pulling out his wallet, he grabbed two one-hundred dollar red bills, waving them in the air.

"Double if you can reach the plaza before midnight."

The two bills immediately attracted the man's attention, to the point he even forgot to continue covering his nose.

It took him about five seconds to register the information, and another five seconds to make a quick decision as the sound of the cab's lock clicked, opening for Randolph to sit in.

Hopping into the backseat, the young man immediately reclined against his seat. As the car started up again, he felt the exhaustion of the day's events wash over his body, the accumulated fatigue forcing his eyes shut.

"How long until we reach the plaza?"

"Uh… maybe forty minutes, mister."

"Good, let me know when we're there. Also, turn off the radio and keep quiet. Do good enough and maybe you'll earn yourself some extra."

His breathing slowed along with his heartbeat as he sat quietly. As the car began moving, the sounds of the outside world became muffled, and a heavy breath that had been stewing ever since he had left the hospital escaped from his lips.

As he soaked in the quiet, he began reviewing the events of the day.