Friday - 10:15
Andrew looked into the rear-view mirror, keeping an eye on the passenger in the back of his cab. The middle aged man appeared to be asleep, but not resting peacefully. Even though his eyes were shut, he muttered softly to himself and twitched spasmodically.
Not far now to Marrenforth Southern General hospital, another fifteen minutes at most. There used to be an A&E department in the centre of town, but it had been moved out to the Southern General as a cost saving measure. Many people had been annoyed by the decision, but for Andrew it had been very welcome. If someone couldn't drive but wasn't hurt badly enough to justify an ambulance, they had two choices: use the slow, infrequent bus service or hire a taxi. Maybe his.
The man in the back of the cab mumbled again. The sooner Andrew got rid of him, the happier he'd feel. The traffic was heavy today and even the usual shortcuts weren't making much difference.
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Andrew had known he'd made a mistake when he'd picked this passenger up. The man had waved him down then, when he stopped, had walked to the cab unsteadily. As he got closer, Andrew had noted his pale face and the bloody handkerchief tied around his wrist to form an impromptu bandage.
You didn't need the instincts of an experienced cabbie to realise that something was wrong, something more than just a cut. Andrew had listened without surprise as the man asked to be taken to the hospital.
He should probably just have driven away empty, but his natural curiosity had got the better of him and he unlocked the doors. "So what happened to your wrist?" he'd asked once the man was seated. "Accident slicing the vegetables?"
The passenger had snorted. "Hardly. I was attacked in the street. Bitten! By a cat, a fucking cat!"
"A cat? I've known them to scratch people, but not bite them without a reason."
"Well this one did. I was sitting at a bus stop when the furry, black monster jumped up beside me. I turned towards it, then it leapt up at me. Only just got my arm up in time, otherwise the fucking thing would have ripped my throat out."
Andrew raised his eyebrows, not sure how much of the story he believed. "So what did you do then?"
"Grabbed it with my other hand and pulled it off – but it took a chunk of my flesh with it. At least the bite was on the back of my wrist. Thing struggled like a demon, but it was only a cat. I was able to throw it off and give it a good kick, then I ran. It didn't come after me."
"That is one wild story..."
"I know. I can't believe I had to run away from a fucking cat. Don't blame you for not believing me. But in the struggle, this came off." The passenger had reached into his pocket and pulled out a narrow strip of leather. "It's the damned thing's collar. And it's got the owner's address on it. Once I've finished getting stitched up at the hospital, I'm going straight to the police. Get the cat put down and the owner locked up."
"Good idea, pal. Well, you can relax now. Just don't bleed over the seats, there's a thirty quid surcharge if I have to clean it up."
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The passenger had nodded. He'd settled back into his seat and, not bothering with the seat belt, closed his eyes.
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Andrew had been driving since then, at first in silence and then to the sound of the man's incoherent murmurs. Now, Andrew glanced into his rear-view mirror and saw his passenger was still asleep. He'd stopped muttering to himself, but now there was now drool was coming from the corner of his mouth. A slight metallic tang drifted in the air in the cab.
Andrew's first thought was that the his passenger was having some form of stroke. "Hey, pal. Are you ok back there?" There was no reply, even when he asked again more loudly, so he pulled into the side of the road and stopped the cab. If the guy was really sick, he should call for help. He knew that could get to the hospital quicker than any ambulance, but he didn't have the medical training that might be required to keep someone alive during the journey. Like every experienced cabbie, he'd given CPR to fares a couple of times in his driving career – but that was as far as his first aid knowledge went.
He turned round in his seat and spoke through the open hatch between the driver and passenger sections of the cab, making one last attempt at getting a reply. "You look really sick, pal. Want me to call for the paramedics?"
The man's eyes snapped open, revealing a grey sheen across them. His mouth opened wide, drool slipping down the teeth. A low groan came from his mouth. Then he lunged.
Andrew only just managed to pull back in time to avoid the snarling head with its snapping jaw. "What the...?" he cried as he moved as far away as he could get.
He thought about shutting the hatch cover, but the man's head was half way through and blocking it from closing. So he had two choices.
He could radio for the police. They'd deal with the man easily enough. But there would be statements, paperwork, possibly an eventual appearance in court as a witness. He'd lose at least one day of income, something he couldn't afford to do.
So that left option two.
The street he was in was one of his shortcuts, a narrow alley with nobody around. Andrew undid his seat-belt and, making sure he stayed out of reach of the drooling jaws behind him, felt under his seat for the heavy iron bar he kept there. He'd never had to use it before, but its presence made him feel better when doing late runs on the weekends. Holding his weapon tightly, he unlocked the doors and stepped out of the cab.
He walked round to the passenger door. His fare – who looked less human by the second – followed him from inside, leaning its face on the window and battering away at it with its hands. It never even tried the door, so Andrew stood as far back as he could whilst still being able to reach the handle. He held the bar raised in one hand as he opened the door with the other.
The man tumbled out of the cab, crashing onto the pavement with a sickening thud, then staggered to his feet. Andrew had hoped he might run off, but that didn't happen. Instead, the creature that had once been his passenger bared its teeth and its sickly grey eyes locked on to Andrew.
It snarled and thrust forwards. Andrew reacted instinctively and brought down the bar hard. It connected with a shoulder and Andrew winced as he heard the snap of breaking bone. The passenger fell back but hesitated for only an instant before starting to rise again. Andrew's eyes opened wide. No way! The pain must have been immense! But the creature didn't seem to have even noticed. And now it was on its feet again.
It was also standing between Andrew and his cab. The thing wasn't very fast, Andrew could probably just run away. But he wasn't about to abandon his livelihood.
He raised the iron bar again. He thought about going for the head, but that might kill it. Everything he had done so far could be justified as self-defence, but a head blow would be excessive. Even though his passenger was behaving like a wild animal or worse, Andrew wasn't about to kill him. It. Whatever.
"Come on, pal. Just back down. Walk away and we can forget all of this."
The creature's snarl made it clear it had no intention of complying. When it started forwards again, Andrew swung the metal bar at its knee.
There was another loud, sickening crack as metal again crushed bone. The creature still showed no sign of pain, it merely crumpled onto the ground once again. And once again it tried to get up – but this time, lacking the use of one leg, was unable to do so. Andrew stepped back and wiped the sweat from his face.
Maybe he should call the police and report it? The thing might be dangerous. But he really didn't want to get involved, especially given the damage he'd done to it. Just his luck he'd end up the one who got the blame. No, best just drive off. Let someone else sort it out.
He looked down at the broken, snarling thing that had once been his passenger. Then he carefully walked around it and opened the driver's door of his cab. As he got in, he turned back and said simply:
"Never mess with a cabbie."
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