Hard-Boiled Immortal (The Immortal Chronicles) by Gene Doucette Page B
Authors: Gene Doucette
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convince someone of something if you don’t speak their language, no matter how much you drug ‘ em. Good thing my cavalry knew to expect gunplay, huh?”
“You might be too clever to trust.”
“Look who’s talking, Mr. no-name immortal man. Now, you wanna help me get out of this blouse or do I have to do all the work here?”
* * *
I left Chicago a week later in a midnight cab ride that took me to a train stop a few miles out of town. First I had to say goodbye to Lucy, which was two days of work all by itself. Once the gun was safely on the other side of the room and her clothes safely on the floor, she turned out to be much easier to get to know, and at least trust enough to appreciate properly. That appreciation took up five days, with breaks for food and so she could call her office. Her explanation for being out was that she was looking for my body, which was easily the most entertaining excuse I’d ever heard.
The money she gave me only took care of the cab ride and the train ticket, but that was okay because I had some money set aside—in the form of a duffel full of cash in a train station locker in Philly—and also some distant invested funds I didn’t really touch, but was there in a pinch.
I didn’ t know it at the time but those investments were actually about to explode in value. One of the things Al told me that didn’t make onto a napkin was about a company he was hoping to work for after his gig at the university ended. “It’s called International Business Machines, Rocky,” he had said. “I’m telling you, if you got any coin you should put some into it with them.”
I followed his advice. I didn’t remember doing it, but I did.
I don’t know how things worked out for Al, but I did make Lucy promise to tell him the truth about her. I mean, about being a government agent, not the succubus thing. I think he probably didn’t end up having anything to do with the Manhattan Project. That wasn’t his kind of gig. Maybe he wound up at IBM like he wanted.
Lucy left me with about four different ways to contact her in the future, and made me promise to drop her a line once I’d settled on a new name. But as much as it was great to have a line on a succubus and a friend in the government, I didn’t expect to ever look her up again. She was still trouble, and that wasn’t going to change.
Turns out I was wrong. But that’s a story for another time.
Other works by Gene Doucette
Immortal
“I don’t know how old I am. My earliest memory is something along the lines of fire good, ice bad, so I think I predate written history, but I don’t know by how much. I like to brag that I’ve been there from the beginning, and while this may very well be true, I generally just say it to pick up girls.”
--Adam the Immortal
Surviving sixty thousand years takes cunning and more than a little luck. But in the twenty-first century, Adam confronts new dangers—someone has found out what he is, a demon is after him, and he has run out of places to hide. Worst of all, he has had entirely too much to drink.
Immortal is a first person confessional penned by a man who is immortal, but not invincible. In an artful blending of sci-fi, adventure, fantasy, and humor, IMMORTAL introduces us to a world with vampires, demons and other “magical” creatures, yet a world without actual magic.
At the center of the book is Adam.
“I have been in quite a few tight situations in my long life. One of the first things I learned was if there is going to be a mob panic, don’t be standing between the mob and wherever it is they all want to go. The second thing I learned was, don’t try to run through fire.”
--Adam the Immortal
Adam is a sixty thousand year old man. (Approximately.) He doesn’t age or get sick, but is otherwise entirely capable of being killed. His survival has hinged on an innate ability to adapt, his wits, and a fairly large dollop of
“You might be too clever to trust.”
“Look who’s talking, Mr. no-name immortal man. Now, you wanna help me get out of this blouse or do I have to do all the work here?”
* * *
I left Chicago a week later in a midnight cab ride that took me to a train stop a few miles out of town. First I had to say goodbye to Lucy, which was two days of work all by itself. Once the gun was safely on the other side of the room and her clothes safely on the floor, she turned out to be much easier to get to know, and at least trust enough to appreciate properly. That appreciation took up five days, with breaks for food and so she could call her office. Her explanation for being out was that she was looking for my body, which was easily the most entertaining excuse I’d ever heard.
The money she gave me only took care of the cab ride and the train ticket, but that was okay because I had some money set aside—in the form of a duffel full of cash in a train station locker in Philly—and also some distant invested funds I didn’t really touch, but was there in a pinch.
I didn’ t know it at the time but those investments were actually about to explode in value. One of the things Al told me that didn’t make onto a napkin was about a company he was hoping to work for after his gig at the university ended. “It’s called International Business Machines, Rocky,” he had said. “I’m telling you, if you got any coin you should put some into it with them.”
I followed his advice. I didn’t remember doing it, but I did.
I don’t know how things worked out for Al, but I did make Lucy promise to tell him the truth about her. I mean, about being a government agent, not the succubus thing. I think he probably didn’t end up having anything to do with the Manhattan Project. That wasn’t his kind of gig. Maybe he wound up at IBM like he wanted.
Lucy left me with about four different ways to contact her in the future, and made me promise to drop her a line once I’d settled on a new name. But as much as it was great to have a line on a succubus and a friend in the government, I didn’t expect to ever look her up again. She was still trouble, and that wasn’t going to change.
Turns out I was wrong. But that’s a story for another time.
Other works by Gene Doucette
Immortal
“I don’t know how old I am. My earliest memory is something along the lines of fire good, ice bad, so I think I predate written history, but I don’t know by how much. I like to brag that I’ve been there from the beginning, and while this may very well be true, I generally just say it to pick up girls.”
--Adam the Immortal
Surviving sixty thousand years takes cunning and more than a little luck. But in the twenty-first century, Adam confronts new dangers—someone has found out what he is, a demon is after him, and he has run out of places to hide. Worst of all, he has had entirely too much to drink.
Immortal is a first person confessional penned by a man who is immortal, but not invincible. In an artful blending of sci-fi, adventure, fantasy, and humor, IMMORTAL introduces us to a world with vampires, demons and other “magical” creatures, yet a world without actual magic.
At the center of the book is Adam.
“I have been in quite a few tight situations in my long life. One of the first things I learned was if there is going to be a mob panic, don’t be standing between the mob and wherever it is they all want to go. The second thing I learned was, don’t try to run through fire.”
--Adam the Immortal
Adam is a sixty thousand year old man. (Approximately.) He doesn’t age or get sick, but is otherwise entirely capable of being killed. His survival has hinged on an innate ability to adapt, his wits, and a fairly large dollop of
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