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Cassie looked at me.

“There,” I said, and we both ran into the men’s room.

“Got it?” I asked.

“Got it,” she said, and handed me a pair of scissors.

While I lathered up, she worked on her hair to give it that special ‘I am a meth addict’ look. It took a bit longer than I expected, but when I’d finished and we looked ourselves over, we barely resembled the two who had once occupied an apartment on the thirteenth floor of the building just above the chef’s kitchen.

And out we went into the maelstrom that had finally come to a stop. The last of the occupants of the building were just then running out the lobby into the night. We joined them.

“Can we talk without lying now?” Cassie whispered to me as we ran for cover.

“Not yet,” I said.

She had no idea what to make of that. Was I lying? Or telling the truth? Then she got it.

The crowd had formed several hundreds of feet from the building near the edge of the forest where Cassie number two and I had made our first run to freedom. Or so we thought.

Maybe three hundred strong. Far too many for Masters to know them all. I could see him now in the back, furthest away, looking over the group trying to find me. Still not feeling that my new look would fool him, I ducked my head and Cassie’s too just in case he’d already seen the real one. And we all waited. Or at least they waited. The real Cassie and I quietly vanished into the forest behind them.

No one seemed the slightest bit interested in our escape, so lost in their own worries about which way the building might fall. Gauging what thirty-one stories vertically might mean when laid on the ground and imagining part of the radio tower on top bashing their brains in.

I led Cassie down to the creek I’d remember was dry the last time I’d gone this way. It had filled with spring rains, but still no problem. Maybe an inch deep. We crossed it and made our way up to street level to join with the rest of Queens proper.

Now. So far so good. Where to go. I couldn’t follow the same route as previous. They’d certainly look for us there first. I asked her “Which way?”

She looked at me curiously and then said, “There,” and pointed to our left. So I went right. She didn’t hesitate. Following me instead of what she’d said because it still fit in with my anti-Boolean Logic. Or else she just didn’t give a damn at this point.

We walked fast, but didn’t run. No reason to draw attention to ourselves. The traffic was light but with everyone having cell phones, anything out of the ordinary might cause a 911 call.

I tried to stay in the streetlights. Like everything else so far, it seemed best to do the exact opposite of what came natural. Letting everyone see us taking a late night stroll together was a lot better than catching a glimpse of two people running in the half-dark of the forest along the edge of the sidewalk.

We finally reached a cross street and the forest disappeared behind us. We’d entered a region of small stores. Mostly of the clothing variety, on top of which were apartments. Everything closed. The lights in the apartments mostly out. No one out and about. Luck had smiled in our direction. So far at least.

I reminded myself that I had no identification and now looked a lot more like Will Francis the serial killer with my kidnapped lady friend. We had to get out of the lights before an idle cop cruiser happened by and hauled us in.

So I turned us into the first alley that appeared. And into our first dealer of the night.

“What’s your pleasure buddy?”

My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness yet. I could barely make out the form of a man with a briefcase, no doubt filled with all manner of up to date antidotes for our fucked up lives.

“Hey, buddy, I know you,” he then said, and I realized that by some happenstance we’d bumped into the same dealer. “And your lady friend. I recollect you like those meth sticks. Am I right?”

“What?” Cassie said.

“Get lost,” I told him, and to make my point I gave him the heel of my hand on his forehead. Not enough to seriously hurt him, but enough to make him sleep the rest of the night.

“Who the hell was that?” Cassie asked.

“Another time,” I said. “We’ve got to get out of here. And quickly.” I’d left out some of the less important details of my adventures with the other two Cassies.

I grabbed her hand and off we went. Where to, I had no idea. But not here.

38.
We headed away from the light and the unconscious dealer toward the end of the alleyway. More light. I looked carefully to my left and right for other alleys that might get us somewhere while not in plain view of prowling cop cars. Apparently Queens couldn’t afford such space. Our only choice was to re-enter the next street.

We needed to get to a residential only section of town. Or the restaurants. Either of those would have alleyways if for no other reasons than to get rid of their garbage.

I found a residential area about two blocks ahead. Unfortunately several men wearing the same color lounged against a lamppost directly in our pat. Gang colors, I thought. Great. I tried to turn Cassie across the street, but she seemed stricken with terror and stopped abruptly.

Three of them. No staring directly at us. At least no cop cars in the vicinity. If these were, as I suspected, gang members, they’d no doubt have lookouts around with cell phones keeping track of the local police positions.

I placed myself between Cassie and them, now about twenty feet away. No guns I could see. Or tire irons, blackjacks, or chains. Knives? Probably.

“Yo, home,” one of them said, “’bout you here?”

Speak English idiot. I look like a homer?

I relaxed. Stared them in the eyes.

The one who’d spoken to me detached from the main group and started toward me. Good. I’d make an example.

About ten feet away he stopped. Mistake bro, I thought, I kept going.

He pulled a knife from his pants and brought it up so I could see it. But his eyes gave him away. I was an unknown. Confident in my walk. Not so sure now.

“One chance,” I said. “Get lost now or you’re toast.”

He glanced over his shoulder and saw his so-called friends waiting for him to cut me up. A point of honor for him.

All the wrong things to do. By then I’d reached him and planted one foot into his right nee while bringing up my left elbow directly into his solar plexus. He tried to yell but the sudden implosion of his lungs made it sound like a frog mating call. No chance to even move his knife in my direction. I palmed it from him as he fell to the cement. All too easy.

I looked at the gang. One less than before. And I walked directly toward them at an even pace. Nothing in my demeanor except confidence. Exhuming it. They watched with growing fear as I approached them. Nothing showing in my face but curiosity about what I planned for their execution. Hell, I would have run. Maybe they were too stupid. Too surprised what had happened. So quickly.

But then they ran. In different directions no less. No cooperation. The gang mentality suddenly lost amid the real thing. I stopped at the corner, looked back at Cassie, and motioned her to join me. Feeling pretty good about my Bokator skills. So much as they’d been tested thus far.

“Jesus, Francis,” she said when she reached me, “don’t let me ever cross you. I thought you were going to kill those guys.”

“Don’t worry, Cassie,” I said. “You could never cross me. And I wasn’t about to kill them. Maybe rearranged their features a bit, but never kill them.”

“You looked so confident.”

“Part of the game. I am confident. If we’re going to get mutilated out here, just as well give as much damage as taken. All part of the Bokator package. Kill the Lion. Before he kills you.”

She kissed me then. On the cheek.

“Don’t forget, though. I’m no match for a gun. Hand to hand we’re probably fine. Unless I meet someone really good at martial arts. But put a lethal weapon into the mix and we’re just as much in a fix as we’d be without my confidence. That’s why we’ve got to get out of the light.”

And on we walked toward the next alleyway. Nobody stood in our way.

I wondered as we walked what had ultimately happened at the Masters Building. Had they returned inside by now? Had MC learned of my escape and tried to figure out my plan to save the world from what he saw as sudden disaster? Had he sent is small army to retrieve me?

Coming around a corner and back into the light, which by then had begun to take on the red and orange hues of early morning, I noticed the front page of a newly delivered and still bagged stack of newspapers. And the headline.

“Virus Still Haunts World’s Computers,” said the New York Times. Masters had not been lying. He had released it, And now without an antivirus he could trust, he couldn’t make any money. Nor fix the human condition. Which ever came first for him.

While I wanted to take a copy for my eventual amusement, I let them be. Sure that in the days to come I’d have many others to choose from.

“Did you see that?” Cassie asked.

“What?” I asked her. Suspicious that she’d seen something I’d missed.

“He actually did it.”

“Yes. He did. But he didn’t figure on me having a plan. I guess he thought I’d just sit it out and hope for the best. That he wouldn’t eventually kill us.”

“So what about that drug dealer back there? What did he mean that you bought that other Cassie some drugs?”

“Not to worry. Nothing happened. I just gave away my chance for freedom by helping someone going through withdrawal. Meth.”

“That’s all?”

“Jealous?”

“Not of something I don’t know.”

“Now you know.”

She looked confused. Wondered if I was still lying. That would just have to stand until this thing was over. If it ever would be over.

And that’s when I saw it. A cop car coming directly toward us. Light of dawn to his back and in our eyes. I had no idea whether he’d made me or not. Either way, though, we had to get lost. And fast. My identification was in their hands, not mine. My face and lack of such would put me behind bars as quickly as him seeing would give me away.

With no alleyway to turn into and no store open at this hour, I turned Cassie up against the call, turned into her, and gave her my best shot at an imitation of the French kiss she’d given me not long after we’d first met.

Unfortunately I heard the car pull over behind me.

“You all right, lady?”

I stopped and let her breathe.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Just out for an early walk and my husband’s gotten a bit amorous. Sorry if we’re making a spectacle of ourselves.”

Pause.

“No problem. You both have a nice day today.”

“Great job,” I whispered. “I especially liked the ‘husband’ part.”

She smiled.

39.
As we walked quickly down a one of several alleyways we’d taken, Cassie asked me, “Where are we going?”

“Truth?” I asked her.

“Yes.”

“No actual plans?”

“The only thing I’d given thought to was Canada.”

“And you expected to get across the border how?”

“Hadn’t got that far in my thinking yet. Maybe borrow a car and have you drive. With me in the trunk or something.”

“Borrow a car.”

“You’d probably call it stealing. But we could leave it somewhere where it could easily be found. Then whoever found it could return it. No harm no foul. I could even leave gas money and maybe some depreciation. Who knows, maybe someone else would steal it and the owner would get Bluebook with his insurance. Do him a favor.”

“Thinking like a true crook now?”

“Suppose so. I don't think that any other mode is going to get us out of this mess. Do you?”

She went silent at that.

That’s when the daylight at the end of the alleyway became suddenly dark. Like a truck had parked at the entrance. I looked around for another exit. Only returning the way we’d come.

The truck, if that’s what had blocked our way, moved like someone was uncovering its cargo. Or as if a number of people were walking down the alley directly toward us. Nothing I liked about that in the least.

I forgot about going back the way we’d come.

“What’s wrong?” Cassie asked.

I put a finger to my lips. And pointed with my other hand.

“Oh,” she said. Then whispered, “You think they’re after us?”

“Could be.”

“For beating up one of their members?”

“Or the cops, or the drug dealer’s friends, or Masters and his group, or his competition, or God knows who else. Remember we’re on just about everybody’s shit list. Could be just a bunch of irate computer hackers pissed at me for bumming up their afternoon.”

“Funny.”

To our rear about ten years back down the alley stood a door, probably locked, but clearly a back entrance to something. The only possibility.

“There,” I said, and led her toward it as fast as we could move.

When we arrived, I could hear the group storming down the alley towards us. No doubt about their intentions any longer. After me, or us, all the way.

I grabbed the doorknob and tested it. Locked, of course. So I gave it a jerk forward and then out, unsure of which way it moved. No go. Probably bolted shut from the inside.

“Lookout,” I said to Cassie, stepped back, and gave it a hell of a blast with my foot. Enough to break someone’s leg. Hated to waste my energy. But what the hell. Our only way out.

It gave. Not the door actually, but the wood that made up the door. My foot broke through into open space beyond. Not enough room to crawl through. But a start.

I began to punch out something big enough for one of us at a time to make it inside. This as the group on that attack hauled ass toward us, now aware that we’d found a possible loophole in their plans.

As soon as the hole seemed big enough to let Cassie inside I pushed her there. No time to explain. And I turned to face our pursuers. Still not enough light to tell who it was. I didn’t actually give a damn. I hit the pavement just as the first them charged me. Found air where I’d just been. Then I crawled between sets of legs as far as I could until it became clear the mass of humanity jammed in between the two walls had figured out what I’d done and where I was. Then I got to my feet and, using elbows, knees, and head butts began to do damage as indiscriminately as I could. Bodies fell around me. A few blows hit me, but by then I was completely impervious to pain. Only a job to do. Not emotion. I’d learned to get rid of that enemy. Let the natural drugs do their work. Keep as clear headed as possible.

The darkness, even of mid-morning, and especially such high buildings worked in my favor. I was one. They were many. My advantage. No chance of hitting anyone on my side. They, on the other hand were doing just as much damage to their own as to me.

I eventually fell into the mass of limp bodies at my feet and let them tear one another apart. Tried not to move. Whenever a leg passed by, I bit it as hard as I could and heard the resulting yelp. Every part of one’s body is a weapon. These guys didn’t know this. They probably played by some kind of rules, even though they didn’t know it. I had only one rule. Win. At any cost. No rules. Kill the lion.

Then someone decided to uneven the score. It sounded like one of those fake pops that one hears in old western films. Clear enough to me, however. A gun. One or more of them had decided to end it here and now. If nothing else, clear the alley. Another gunshot rang out. I prayed that Cassie wouldn’t yell out. That she wouldn’t give us away. She didn’t.

I kept biting and breaking as many bones with my arms and legs as I could. Anybody around me tried to get up and I made sure they stayed down. I was hurting, but I didn’t give a damn.

Finally, things began to settle down. No more bullets. Just sirens. Somebody had called the cops. Also my enemies. I stood up. Tried to walk. Stumbled. Couldn’t tell whether it was an injury or just too many bodies on the cement below. But I finally made it to the door in which I’d punch a hole and bent over and crawled inside. That’s when the lights went out. Someone hit me on the head with something hard and metallic. Like a frying pan. Who would have a frying pan inside their back doors?

I dreamt of a kinder and gentler place. Where no one was trying to kill or maim me. Or steal my ideas. Was there such a place? Probably not on earth. This dreamt one consisted of a sea so clear that one could see the bottom and all the fish swimming between me and that bottom. Like you see in the brochures about Hawaii or the Bahamas. Snorkeling. The fish all reds and green and all the other impossible colors that fish couldn’t be. Warm waters. Very little wave motion. Just enough to rock me back and forth like it must have been in my mother’s arms when I was a baby.

And then I woke up.

“I’m so sorry.” Cassie. Somehow I knew she’d done it. Probably the right thing to do.

“How long?” I asked her.

“Just a second ago,” she said. And I still heard the sirens coming.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” I said as I rose and pulled her along with me.

It seemed we’d entered the alley door of a Chinese restaurant for all I could see suddenly were huge wok pots I assumed contained all many of strange body parts of unknown animals that even the cooks couldn’t recognize. Not that I don’t like Chinese food. I do. But God knows what they make it out of. Maybe why they used so much spice.

And then Cassie was pushing me through the kitchen and out I toe the dining room. We must have been quite a show. Everyone, including the waiters in the process of serving customers, stopped what they were doing as they watched us make a beeline for the front door.

The maitre de looked startled as we passed him. Did we have reservations? And I realized that I was in Cassie’s hands. Half awake and probably hallucinating.

She pushed open the front door and led me down a very busy sidewalk full of gaping mouth people, now aware that something very different had entered their little sheltered world. At least one man with blood all over him being led by an unknown woman.

As soon as we made the next corner, though, she turned around and we headed back the way we’d come. Police and ambulances no doubt. Closer to the scene of the crime.

As we walked, I looked back and no one seemed to be following us.

“Hold on,” I told her, not giving a damn who gaped at us in the process. “Maybe we should stop for a minute and take stock.”

“What?” she yelled.

“Wait,” I said.

She stopped and turned.

“What?”

“Can’t we take a breather?” I asked.

“No.”

She eventually led me to another alleyway. This one seeming a bit safer than the last. And she pushed me into it and after two or three feet sat me down against a wall and then joined me.

“So what do I look like?”

“You’re covered in blood,” she said.

“So,” I said, wearing my mantle with pride, “most of it’s not mine.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “We’ve got to get you cleaned up. All you’re doing now is drawing attention. And I think I may have hit you a bit hard back there.”

“Put your hand in my right-hand pocket,” I said.

“No time for funny business,” she said.

“Not funny business. Do as I say.”

She did. And pulled out the roll of fifties that Cassie number three had given me. Minus the cab and train fares, of course. Most likely nine hundred left.

“Where’d you get this?”

“Cassie number three gave it to me.”

“Why?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Not what you think. Leave me here, Get us a hotel room.”

“I can’t leave you here,” she said.

“Have to,” I said. “Can’t take me with you. Find a hotel. Get a room. Find a back entrance or something, and come back and get me. I can take care of myself. It’s not as bad as it looks. Besides, I’m broke now. What can they do? I probably look mostly dead now anyway.

She apparently bought it. Left me sitting there in the alley. Trying not to fall asleep.

40.
I spent the afternoon moving into and out of semi-consciousness. I actually felt pretty good. My elbows and knees hurt, but that was from giving blows rather than taking them. My head hurt the worst. I’d never had time to figure out exactly what she’d hit me with. A Wok?

At one point a storm threatened rain by lighting up the alleyway and then following that with deep growling thunder. The almost black overcast sky may have saved us that morning. Help darken the alleyway where I’d met the enemy.

Where Cassie had gone I had no idea. New York City had plenty of hotels. She should be back by now. Had Masters caught up with her? And was he now torturing her to get her to tell him where I was? Didn’t seem possible. Then again, nothing that had happened so far seemed possible. Or at least believable. All for a damn computer virus and antivirus.

Occasionally, a drunk would wander by me and trip, or just look at me lying there. No one tried to rob me. I guess I looked too close to death to do so. The alleyway looked just large enough for a small car to pass. But none did. Maybe it was Saturday. So long since I had any idea of such things, I had no clue.

Finally, as it seemed dusk was about to arrive, Cassie returned.

“Sorry. They’re all full. Some convention in the neighborhood. Got us a place though. An old-style rooming house. I told the owner, an old lade, that I was brining my husband home from the hospital and need a nice quiet room for his convalescence. Gave her a couple hundred just to keep her quiet. Should work. I hope. I was desperate.”

I mumbled something. Not sure what. And together we walked back to wherever she’d located a room. Mostly through alleys. And mostly with her arm around me, helping me keep my limbs in rough coordination.

After an hour or so she led me up a series of back stairs to what hopefully would be a nice place to rest for a few hours. Before I could steal a car and attempt to flee the country. Even thinking such a thing would have shocked me a couple of weeks back. Now it seemed natural.

The owner had apparently given Cassie a key to the back door making a grand entrance avoidable. And between the two of us we fumbled me into the room, a nineteenth-century looking place with a bathtub up on feet in the corner. No kitchen. But a toilet. And a beautiful bed. Fit for two.

She led me over to the sink and for the first time in many hours I got a look at me. Even without any lights, just the dim glow from outside, I nearly fell down. A bloody mess. Actually it looked like mud, blood turning black as time passes. No wonder those who’d seen me thought I was a goner.