The Newton Prophecies

Chapter 31

Chapter 31

"Mike." Clinton was out of breath; he could barely speak. He prayed he would stop, or at least slow. His knees were giving out, and he fought the constant urge to collapse. It was not like him to be so exhausted, but DiBianco was unnaturally fast.
         Paddington Station, with its arched façade, stood tall and largely out of place against the architecture of its neighbors.
         The station was crowded, like it typically was. Not just another stop for The Tube, Paddington Station was also a connector for the National Rail System.
         Clinton could feel eyes pierce them as they approached the gates.
         Without warning, DiBianco stopped and released his grip on the bags, letting them hit the ground with a thud.
         Clinton plopped his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. In the infancy of his prime and being a competitive swimmer, Clinton was in superb shape; but something about the events of the day, made his head spin.
         They stood in front of a crowded concession stand, adjacent a public restroom, a few yards from the gates. The smell of hotdogs and onion rings pushed the looming stench of train grease and sweat from the air.
         "Let me see that," DiBianco said, pointing at the purple cloth wedged between Clinton's right hand and knee.
         Clinton smiled and tossed him the Speedo.

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