Squeezed

By Erik Hugus

A man mysteriously wakes up on the floor of a subway train - his watch counting down ominously. As he gets up to exit the train, he is shocked to see the reflection of a complete stranger.

Follow this fast-paced, political spy thriller to its stunning, unexpected conclusion...just as time runs out!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erik Hugus
• Release date: Aug 18, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476358390

Book preview

SQUEEZED

Erik Hugus

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Smashwords Edition

Copyright Erik Hugus 2012

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Squeezed

Whoosh…whoosh. The sound rushes by as my ears pop. My head feels like it’s being pressed in a vice. The putrid smell of urine assaults my nostrils and all at once I realize I’m lying on the floor. Need to sit up. Orient myself.

Big mistake.

Shit, I say and turn my head to heave. Chills run through me as I wipe my mouth with my sleeve. I rub violently then at my eyes, feeling the crunchy, gritty residue of sleep peeling away. I open them a just a crack and shut them hard as I’m blinded by a bright light.

Must’ve been vodka. And lots of it to leave me this messed up on the floor who knows where. Got to concentrate. I take a few deep breaths and open my eyes again, this time more slowly, down at the floor. It’s dirty, grey with white specks, dried gum and scuff marks. Looks like a Jackson Pollack painting. How odd, I think.

To my right is a set of twin metal doors with the trail I just laid pointing back to me like an accusing finger. At least I missed my clothes, which turn out to be a navy blue suit with a red tie and black wingtips. A work party then?

My eyes come back to the doors. They’re flanked by shiny metal poles with plastic gray benches on either side. But that’s not what interests me. It’s what’s sitting in the soup.

I crawl across the filthy floor holding my breath and pick it out of the mess. This is crazy. It looks like a flash memory computer key, covered in some kind of plastic coating that’s partially eroded, probably from being in my stomach. For the life of me I can’t remember swallowing it. One thing’s certain. It wouldn’t have gone down easy.

I grab one of the steel poles and pull myself up onto a bench for a look around. I’m on the subway. Windows, benches and advertisements line the sides of the narrow car. Many have graffiti covering them. So now what? I’m all alone with a mother lode of a hangover. So that means it’s early - real early. I look down at my watch. The digital readout states -

11:57:23

Where the hell is everyone? This time of day the subway should be packed. So many quest… wait. Hold on. That’s strange. The watch now reads -

11:57:20

What the hell? It’s counting down! To what? Time to get off and get my bearings. Figure out what the hell’s going on. I walk to the doorway as we approach the next station. The reflection looks back. Looks like chewed shit. All of a sudden I’m no