The Machinist Part One: Malevolence Read Free Page A

the old man.
    “I was hoping that all that huffing and puffing would’ve given me a heart attack, so I could finally keel over.”
    “Don’t say that.”
    “I’m an old, old man, Nicholas.  It’s going to happen soon.”  Krudoff sat down on the mattress next to McHenry and patted his leg.  “Besides, it’ll be funny.”
    “What could possibly be funny about dying in prison?”  McHenry sat up.  “And more to the point, why the hell have you been so giddy this last week?”
    “Well.”  Krudoff grinned evilly.  “You and I, we’re both scientists in our own ways.  You’re an engineer, a gearhead, but I’m a biologist.  I owe so much of what I’ve accomplished to what I learned as a little sprout in medical school.”
    “Uh huh.”
    “After I die, I’ve donated my body to my old alma mater for dissection and study.”
    “So ...,” McHenry started speculating, “It’s funny because … they kicked you out for grafting animal parts to cadavers before bringing them back to life?  And now … now, I guess, you’re forcing them to take you back, in a way?”
    “Oh, no, no no.”  Krudoff waved his hand dismissively.  “It’s much better than that.  Trust me.  It’ll be funny.”
    “Just tell me, you coot.”
    “Oh, just wait and see!  It won’t be much longer anyway.”  The old man’s face went stern.  “And I’m so damn happy because you’re my only friend in this world.  By the time I go, you’ll be a free man.  You won’t have to watch me die.”
    McHenry didn’t know what to say to that.  He frowned.
    “Buck up, Nicholas.”  Krudoff leaned in and rubbed McHenry’s hairless head as if the old man was a little league coach giving a kid a pep talk.  “Let’s just say, they’ll never forget Doctor Terror, even after he’s gone.”
    ***
    The next few days were uneventful.  Routine.
    Every morning, the usual twin blasts of the air horn broke into McHenry’s sleep.  The same barely nutritious breakfast sat in his gut for hours.
    The same jokes and stories were told at lunch , and again at dinner.  Every night, as always, Krudoff’s hacking cough kept McHenry up for hours past the point he’d decided to try to sleep.
    The last day of McHenry’s vacation from the real world was less routine.
    “Krudoff, H.”  O’Shea’s bored voice called out.
    Hands pressed against the wall inside the glowing circles, Krudoff replied in a hushed voice.  “Here.”
    “What’s the matter, doc?” O’Shea asked, looking up from his clipboard.  “Going to miss your buddy?”
    Krudoff didn’t answer.  He just looked over at McHenry with a sullen demeanor.  McHenry met his gaze and made a facial expression to match.
    “How sweet.  I’m moved.  Truly, I am,” O’Shea spat sarcastically.  “ McHenry, N.”
    “Here.”
    “Say your goodbyes at the mess, McHenry.  You’re getting evicted after breakfast.”
    The guards left without bothering to even pat down either prisoner.  After the cell door slid shut, the two men sat down on the bottom bunk next to each other.  Neither of them said a word.
    ***
    “Suit.  Men’s size large,” Said the clerk who sat behind a bulletproof glass window, sliding a plastic bag through a small slot.  He continued reading off a list and pushing bags out the slot.  “Shoes, men’s size nine and a half.  Wallet, contents: driver’s license, thirty-five dollars forty-two cents.”
    McHenry signed his name and initials on what felt like a thousand pieces of paper acknowledging the proper return of his property from the time of his imprisonment.  Simultaneously, he started changing into his suit.  It was a little bit tight at the waist and armpits.
    “Al l right McHenry, here’s your transport voucher.”  The clerk slid a bus ticket through the slot.  “An officer will drive you to the bus station, and from there this ticket can be used to travel to any destination within the state of New York.”
    McHenry nodded and