L EVI DIDN’T LET off the gas pedal. He zipped through
side streets, dodging frightened pedestrians who were
fleeing for their homes, perhaps their lives. He wanted
to avoid the main streets that stretched through
midtown because that’s where the booms and gunfire
had been heard. There were more choppers now,
whooshing overhead, their blades cutting through the
tense night air like rapid machine gun fire.
He saw smoke in the distance as he sped across
Tenth, looking to get as far away from the war zone as
possible.
The lamp at his side still burned with a gentle glow
that was just barely there, ever so faint. Levi slowed his
speed as he rolled through stop signs, his head
whipping back and forth to avoid a collision. After
twenty minutes of frantic driving, the people seemed to
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have disappeared altogether. This far out, either they
hadn’t heard all the commotion or were already locked
inside their homes, bracing for the onslaught.
Levi raced up the back roads, winding his way
toward Jenny’s apartment. He didn’t have time to stop
and call her; he just needed to get there, and fast.
• • •
Jenny could not only see the smoke by now, but she
could also hear the deafening gunshots that rang out
every couple of minutes — so loud, in fact, that she
knew they were close. Very close.
“Can you get us out of here?” she frantically asked
the driver.
“Where do you want me to go?” he asked, his hand
waving toward the cluster of unmoving traffic all
around them. She looked at the meter, which read
$44.00, and tossed him a few bills. The driver whipped
around. Jenny reached for the door handle.
“Where you going?” he pressed. “Are you crazy?”
Jenny rushed from the taxi and down an adjacent
alley. She kicked the brick wall to intentionally break
the heels off her shoes, glancing back in the direction
of the street. The amused taxi driver was looking back
at her.
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He shrugged his shoulders and smiled to her. Then
his head exploded as a bullet tore through the cab in a
quick flash. The windows shattered as crimson blood
and gore splashed against the side window.
Jenny screamed, then grabbed her own mouth and
dropped back against the wall. She ducked behind a
dumpster, her body shaking uncontrollably. She kept
her hand firmly against her mouth and peered out onto
the street to get a sense of the threat. There was a brief
struggle between two men in military fatigues and a
knife-wielding pedestrian. The two men forced him
down onto the asphalt and then one of them placed his
gun against the back of the man’s head.
Jenny jumped to her feet and sprinted down the
alley. She heard the gunshot ring out behind her as
she blasted forward, finally coming to a side street that
was completely still. She saw no one. Picking up the
pace, she bolted forward, moving in the direction of her
apartment. She knew it was only a few more blocks.
“Just keep running,” she told herself as she skirted
through vacant streets. Helicopters circled overhead
and someone shouted unintelligible words over a
loudspeaker. Occasionally she’d look to her left as she
ran, toward midtown, where a violent clash was taking
place. She saw citizens rushing toward a police
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barricade with flaming bottles, launching them behind
the barrier. “Explosions,” she thought. “Smoke.”
Her mind raced as fast as her feet. She didn’t know
from where, or from whom, the attacks were coming.
The citizens were throwing homemade bombs, but who
walks around with those? She didn’t know whether to
fear the police, or the guys in military fatigues, or
regular people dressed as civilians. Everyone seemed
dangerous all of a sudden. Another explosion sounded
and the violence of the force nearly knocked her down.
Her ears rang as she trucked forward, her lungs
burning.
Directly ahead of her, Jenny saw large crowds
pooling. They were shouting and raising their fists. The
helicopter’s spotlight fell on this group and they began
shouting skyward now. Jenny continued running in a
zigzag fashion, taking one street as far as she could
without running into a mob, then dashing for the next
parallel street, and doing the same. She was now five
streets back from the main action on Broadway and
the booms, gunfire and yelling could still be heard. She
felt light-headed and sick to her stomach, but she
pressed on. Her feet hurt badly as they pounded the
asphalt, her chest tingling from extreme shortness of
breath. And then she made it to the apartment
entrance.
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The front door was locked.
Jenny pounded on the door, begging for help. Where
was Russell? Or Carl? Or anyone else! Why had they
locked the doors?
Jenny slammed her palms against the glass window
that overlooked the lobby. “Hello! Hello! Can anyone
hear me? Please let me in!”
She heard quick footsteps scraping up the sidewalk.
Her head swiveled. A group of six men wearing military
fatigues stormed toward her. She didn’t see any logos
on the uniforms, which told her immediately that these
were not soldiers. At least not the kind she recognized.
Reflexively, she jumped back. The mob picked up
their pace, closing in fast. She pounded and kicked the
glass with such force that it cracked. But not enough
for her to break through. The men were now a few
meters from her.
She heard a roaring engine and turned her back to
the men. Levi’s car skidded to a grinding halt on the
curb, just a few inches from the building. Levi jumped
out of the car and ran to Jenny, then placed himself
between her and the mob of men who were descending
upon them. He spoke over his shoulder to her, “Get in
the car. Get in the car now.”
Jenny hurried into the passenger seat. The men
slowed their pace but continued forward, marching
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toward Levi. His eyes moved down and saw one of
them igniting the end of rag, half-stuck inside a bottle.
A flame erupted and Levi shouted, “Jenny… get out
of the car! GET OUT OF THE CAR!”
The man launched the Molotov cocktail at Levi’s car,
just as Jenny popped the door open and flung herself
into the street. A huge flame engulfed the interior of
the car.
There was a loud whooshing sound and the fireball
quickly extinguished itself, as though the scene had
been played back in reverse. The mob stopped where
they stood, frozen in place by what they’d just
witnessed. All six men looked at Levi, then the car,
then back to him.
Levi rushed into the street and saw that Jenny’s leg
was cut and bleeding. He tore off his sleeve and
wrapped her leg in a tourniquet. He peeked back to the
sidewalk and saw that the six men were walking away
from them. Jenny insisted on standing up unaided and
they stared at one another for a long moment,
exchanging a look of comfort. They fell into a hug.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said in his ear.
“I didn’t find her, Jenny,” he said. “I’m so sorry, but I
couldn’t find her.”
“That’s okay,” she replied.
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Jenny’s gaze fell to the still lamp resting peacefully
inside the car. At that moment, she knew something
amazing had occurred. The lamp had absorbed the fire
and saved them both from what would have been a
deadly explosion. No wonder he guarded that thing so
closely.
• • •
Violet felt the cold leather of the sitting chair in the
small of her back where her shirt had risen. The pain
of her ulcer had settled and now she felt only the
intense desire to sleep. She looked around the room
and heard Chris splashing water from the bathroom
sink. She didn’t know what he was doing in there so
she sat up and called to him, “Everything all right?”
She didn’t hear a response. Again she scanned the
room. A large bed, a desk, a draped window that
overlooks the busy intersection. Her sights then fell on
a bag in the corner. She stood up and neared the bag.
“Can I help you?”
Violet jumped at his voice. She turned around with a
shy snicker. “Sorry.”
“I see,” he said with a grin. “Going through people’s
stuff is a hobby of yours, huh?”
Her face lightened at his warm tone.
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“No, I just…” she started.
“You’re just a thief?” he accused.
Violet heard something less than friendly in that
question, but didn’t know if he was joking around.
“No,” she said. “I was just curious what was in it. I
didn’t mean to…”
“Want me to show you?” he interrupted.
He lurched forward and suddenly seemed taller than
before, his shoulders wider too. She stepped back
nervously as he reached her. He then bent over and
opened the bag. Violet eyed the door.
“See, you’re not even looking,” he said.
Violet slowly turned her gaze back to him and saw
Chris removing a long trench coat with a hood stitched
inside. She’d seen that garment before.
“Do you like it?”
“Is your name really Chris?”
“Is your name really Violet?” he asked.
She felt a knot tighten in her throat. The room began
closing in and she grew claustrophobic. “Were those
your friends at the arcade?” she persisted.
“Of course they were my friends. What’s gotten into
you?”
“Nothing,” she said, laughing to hide her suspicions.
“My head just isn’t working tonight.”
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She moved past him and walked back to the chair
since it was closer to the door. She knew that if she
ran for it too quickly, he’d be able to catch her. She
needed to distract him first.
“Hey, Violet…” he said.
She turned back to him and saw that he was now
wearing the coat and hood. “Tell me I look sexy. I know
I do.”
His tone was casual and light. She wanted to keep
things on that level for as long as she could.
“I have to say, you do look quite striking, Chris.”
“Do you have a cell phone on you by chance?”
She didn’t like the sound of that question, but she
knew the truth would only work against her.
“Yeah, who doesn’t? It’s in my pocket. Why?”
“Can you take it out for me? Can I see it?”
Violet felt her throat tighten again. Why did I say
that? Of course he was going to ask for it, stupid!
“Why do you want my cell phone? Get your own,
moocher.”
He smiled and said, “Come on, don’t give me a hard
time. Let me see your cell phone.”
“I can’t,” she admitted.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t really have one.”
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“Oh,” he said, surprised. “Well then why did you lie
about it?”
She shrugged and shook her head, I don’t know. He
chuckled under his breath. “I really like you, Violet.”
He drew closer to her and she felt like shooting for
the door. But it was too late, as he already stood over
her. She sank a little bit deeper into the chair and
Chris extended his fingers, caressing her cheek with
the back of his hand.
She spoke in a voice racked with nerves,
“Remember… back at the arcade, you checked the
box.”
Chris nodded, smiled, and retracted his hand. “I
know, sweet Violet. I know.”
“As long as you know,” she said, trying to focus her
eyes on anything but him. He sat down on the edge of
the bed across from her and they exchanged a look. A
long silence followed.
She gulped. “I’d like to leave, Chris.”
The man on the bed drew in a deep breath and then
said, “I know you do. But you can’t.”
He snatched the telephone from the end table and
flung it into her lap. She jumped back, terrified by his
sudden aggression.
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“Enough,” he said. “You know who I am and what
I’m capable of doing to you. Call your friend Levi and
tell him to come here and pick you up.”
“He doesn’t have a phone,” she said in a whimper,
thankful for once that he actually didn’t own one.
“I know that,” Dev replied. His eyes turned black and
thick veins appeared in his neck. “Call the girl, the one
he swoons over. Tell her where you’re at and she will
bring him.”
“What do you want with them?” she asked. Her
entire body trembled, unable to hide her fear now.
“Never mind that. Call them and resolve this
peacefully.”
“Not if you’re going to hurt them,” she said. “They are
my friends.”
“CALL THE GIRL!” he demanded.
Startled, Violet looked down at the phone in her lap
through teary eyes and thought about dialing 9-1-1. “It
won’t work,” he told her. “Only more lives will be lost if
you try to call for help.”
She stalled, pretending that she didn’t know the
number.
“What are you waiting for exactly?” he asked as he
pulled a long, serrated hunting knife from his coat
pocket. “Need more incentive?”
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“I can’t remember!” she shouted. “You’re making me
too nervous!”
Dev conceded and put the knife back in his pocket.
“It’s that thing you’re wearing,” she said. “That
hood… it creeps me out. Can you just take it off or
something?”
Dev seemed to be impressed with her list of
demands. He stood, towering now, and removed his
coat and hood. He threw them into a corner on the
other side of the room.
“How’s that?” he asked. “Should I remove more of my
clothing to ease sweet Violet?”
She shook her head “no.”
“Good,” he said. “Now just calm down, then go ahead
and make the call. Fairfield Inn. Tell them to come
quickly.”
She hesitated and observed his face morphing into
something more menacing with each passing second.
“He was smart, you know?” she said.
Dev’s expression changed. “I’m sorry, who?”
“Johnny,” she said in a calm voice. “My friend that
you murdered. He was smarter than you.”
Violet quickly stood, threw the phone into Dev’s face,
and kicked the chair into his legs. She dove toward her
backpack and flung the zipper open. Dev was one step
away from her but her hand had already gone inside
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the bag. She yanked a pocket knife out and flipped it
open, scooting herself back like a crab, inching away
from him. Dev looked down at her pitiful attempt at
self-preservation and wanted to laugh. Seriously? A
pocket knife?
She stumbled back onto her feet, nearly out of
breath, and pressed her back against the door. His grin
mocked her.
“This could’ve been easy, Violet. But now…”
“Shut up!” she told him. “Stop talking to me! You
think I can’t slice your throat open? Huh?”
“This is just pathetic,” he said. “Call your friend and
I’ll put you away quickly instead of drawing it out like
I’d planned.”
“I SAID STOP TALKING!” she yelled. “You think I
don’t know about your little secret?”
Dev raised an eyebrow. “Secret?” he said, suddenly
curious.
“Johnny talked my ear off about that comic.
Someone knew something, didn’t they? I listened for
hours as he talked on and on about that stupid book.
But he was my friend, so I paid attention.”
“Enough of this. Call your friends!”
“I know you people have a token. That’s what makes
you strong, isn’t it?” Her tone was a frightened jest.
She knew she had the upper hand.
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Dev turned toward his coat and hood. “Oh,” he said,
“that thing. Well, you’re right about the token. You are
a perceptive one, Violet. But you’re also bad at
guessing, because the cloak isn’t it.”
“I know,” she said in a whisper.
Violet’s hand went into her pocket and emerged with
a silver pendant, some kind of charm or talisman.
Fear sprang onto Dev’s face, his eyes blazing with
intensity.
“Looks like you’ve misplaced something,” she said.
Dev made a move toward her and she knelt down,
sliding the pendant under the door and far into the
hallway. He crashed into her with a thud, sending her
into the wall with violent force. He grabbed her knife-
wielding hand and wrestled the meager weapon away
from her. She bit his arm and he dropped it.
Dev took hold of her tiny waist and threw her across
the room with ease. She popped back to her feet and
blasted toward the door as he stood blocking it. She
was met with a hard shove, sending her crashing back
into the side wall. She then stopped, exhausted and
out of breath. He stopped too, just glaring at this tiny
girl causing him such a fuss. He was almost
impressed.
“We all have a weakness, Violet,” he said in a deep
voice.
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He took a step forward and then punched her as
hard as he could in the stomach. She dropped
instantly, curling into a tight ball and fighting to suck
in a desperate breath.
“Heard you have some stomach problems,” he said.
“That’s a real bitch.” He whipped the door open and
snatched up the pendant from the hallway. Lifting it
high, he then dropped it into his mouth and swallowed
it, which required great effort. After a painful gulp, he
said, “Looks like I won’t be misplacing it now,” loud
enough for her to hear.
Dev reentered the room and locked the door. He
glanced down at Violet, who writhed painfully on the
floor. For a moment, Dev felt something: a moment of
genuine pity for the innocent girl. It was soon replaced
by anger, as she was now obviously unable to talk.
How can she call them now?
He grabbed her with one hand and launched her
back onto the bed. He tied her right wrist to the
bedpost, using only one cord from his bag. She
couldn’t have moved anyway, even if he hadn’t secured
her.
“Sorry it had to end this way, Violet. I genuinely
mean that. But if I can’t force your friends to come,
then I’ll just send them a little message.”
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A loud explosion rang out, startling him. He looked
out the window and saw that someone had launched a
gasoline-soaked rag into the front lobby, setting it
ablaze. He smiled and turned back to the helpless girl
on the bed.
“Better yet,” he said. He took a roll of electrical tape
from his bag and then emptied the bag itself. He began
taping the bag to the ceiling, covering up the sprinkler.
He looked down and saw her still struggling to breathe.
“You wanted to protect your friends,” he said. “This is
the price, kid.”
He took one last glance out the window and saw
chaos outside, as people ran from the hotel and onto
the streets. A fire alarm went off. Dev locked the room
before exiting into the hallway, where he was showered
with water from the functioning sprinklers.
Dev walked calmly out of the main entrance, people
rushing around him in every direction. A smile came to
his lips as he pulled the hood over his face and walked
into the night.
A single gunshot sounded.
Dev felt the force impact his body, and knew that
he’d been hit. But he just considered it a mild
annoyance, knowing he couldn’t be harmed so easily.
His eyes peered up from under the hood as a
policeman fired one more round into his torso. That
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one knocked Dev back a few steps. He looked down
and saw a massive blood stain on his stomach. His
vision began to dim and he turned and saw the charm
lying on the asphalt behind him, along with portions of
his insides. He fell to his knees and toppled forward,
straining to reach out and touch his talisman.
The last thought running through his mind was a
simple one, fully of irony. Had he not swallowed the
pendant and instead kept it in his pocket, his stomach
would have already healed itself from the gunshot
blast. That wretched girl. And then, as his sight failed
him, he remembered only that he had punched the girl
in the stomach, and laughed. It didn’t seem so funny
now as the darkness finally swallowed the dark one
himself. The police officer examined his face,
wondering if he’d mistaken the arsonist. He quickly
holstered his gun and fled back to his patrol unit.
Dev’s inglorious death was a common one, like a
petty criminal shot down in the midst of a crime.
Unable to prevent the sting of death like he’d done so
many times before, Dev took and expelled his final
breath as any mortal man does, and died like the rest.
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