by David McAfee
First I had to get there, and that meant leaving the alley. I didn’t want to just go running out of it. Someone was sure to notice that. If they were cops I’d be in trouble. If they weren’t, then I’d be in even more trouble. I eased my face around the corner of the building and looked back in the direction of the club.
Right away I noticed more than four police cars had responded to the call. No less than ten cruisers and a paddy wagon crowded the street in front of the eye, along with two ambulances. The flashing red and blue lights sent strange shadows up and down the street in either direction. Another thing I noticed right away was that even the ten cruisers might not be enough. The scene at The Eye had escalated from a bar brawl into an all-out riot. There were people everywhere. They streamed out of the club like ants from an anthill, shouting and cursing so loud I could barely hear the officers trying to restore order. As the crowd emerged from the club they met the police, and many of them were just drunk enough to start throwing punches. The officers defended themselves with whatever was handy. Three people already lay on the ground screaming and clutching their faces after being sprayed with mace. Still two more were unconscious on the ground, having been on the receiving end of a billyclub. I watched as one guy got the billyclub treatment. He kicked and punched his way to the ground in spite of the repeated blows. Good thing I got out when I did; it wasn’t a pretty sight.
On the other hand, it meant I could most likely walk the opposite direction without anyone noticing me. If anyone did notice, they would be too busy to do anything about it.
Satisfied that the coast was clear, I took a step out of the alley. Then I froze.
There, in a shadowy doorway about two blocks away from me, Sanders and Kagan stood staring at the club, watching the commotion as it unfolded. They must have been waiting for me to come out. Which meant that they hadn’t seen me when I left from the side door. I doubted they’d go near the entrance, not with so many people there, but they could watch and wait. Most likely they planned to run up and snatch me, hoping to get lost in the chaos that reigned in front of The Eye and make off with their prize. The way things looked over there, it wasn’t that far-fetched of a plan, either. Everybody was either running or fighting.
I ducked back into the alley as quickly as I could without attracting their notice. Damn! I couldn’t leave while they were there, they’d be sure to spot me once I started walking up the street. It was only sheer luck that one of them hadn’t turned and seen me. I walked back down the alley, hoping to leave through the other entrance, but it was blocked. Some asshole had squeezed a Hertz truck in backwards; the fit was so tight I had to wonder how the fucker had managed to get out of the truck after he parked it. I thought about crawling under it, but I didn’t want to be stuck under there if Kagan came up behind me. The thought of him grabbing my ankles and hauling me backward nearly set my bladder free again. Resolving to crawl under the truck only as a last resort, I went back over to my spot behind the dumpster and sat down to think.
I paused a moment and looked back at the truck. It, too, seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Then I shook the thought out of my head, having more important things to worry about, like Kagan and Sanders. I needed to make sure they didn’t find me.
Would I ever get back to my apartment and take that nice hot shower? Hell, right then I’d have settled for no shower and just going to bed. The events of the night had been draining, and the longer I sat there the more and more exhausted I became. It was going on 5am, and soon the sun would be peeking over the horizon. If I could make it that long, I thought I would be safe. The city would be waking up soon, and somehow I doubted those two would chase me through crowded New York City streets in broad daylight. Just the same, I didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out.
I stood up and walked around the alley, cursing my luck for having run into a blocked one. I needed a better hiding place than behind the dumpster. Maybe the truck was unlocked. I dismissed that idea almost as soon as it came. I didn’t want to box myself into the truck if those two came in after me.
As I searched, I was struck again by that same sense of familiarity. I’d seen the place before, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Part of it was visual; the walls, the trash cans, the arrangement of the fire escapes, but part of it was surreal. Part of the deja vu was just a familiar feeling. A queasiness in the stomach or a clenching of the bowels. A dark aura hovered in the place like mist; it drew me in even as it scared me. Something called to me that I didn’t want to answer. Something I’d felt before.
Then it hit me. It was the very place Raine had brought me on the night I killed Kagan, or thought I’d killed Kagan. I was surprised and a little creeped out that I’d somehow managed to get back to the place where the really weird stuff had started. Not that driving a crucifix through a man’s skull and into his brain wasn’t out of the norm, but this alley was where the real darkness began. It was where I first realized things were not always what you thought they were. When I stepped through that doorway.
The doorway!
Having seen no other way out during my search, I looked around the back of the alley for the door. I saw nothing to indicate it existed or had ever existed in the first place. But then, I hadn’t seen it the first time either. All I saw on that occasion was the same blank wall. I kept looking, feeling for cracks in the concrete. The door was there, it had to be. Raine had opened it somehow and taken me through. I just had to find it.
But it remained hidden, no matter how hard I looked. I swore under my breath and looked for something else. A pair of trash cans stood about halfway down the alley. I ducked behind them, semi-hidden from the entrance by the cans and the shadows that penetrated deep into the alley. It would take a good, hard look to see me sitting there, and I dared to believe that no one would be looking for me that hard. The police would have their hands full with all the drunks pouring out of The Eye, and Kagan and Sanders probably wouldn’t come looking this direction. More likely, I thought, they would go the other way, back towards The Eye to check the immediate area. I hoped so, anyway, because I was starting to get very sleepy.
I didn’t know if I could stay awake long enough o get out of there. My head felt so heavy on my shoulders that I could barely keep it up. The idea of sleeping away the morning behind a pair of trashcans in a dirty alley didn’t appeal to me at all, yet my eyes drifted closed over and over again. More than once I jerked up to realize I’d drifted off with my head propped against the wall. I could almost see my nice, cozy bed; with the pillows I bought at Kmart after graduation and the blanket my mother made for me just before she died. Warm and soft and safe. I could almost smell the hint of Bounce in the sheets. Heaven. I recalled the feel of them against my bare skin. My bed seemed to be calling to me. A sweet voice drifted in the back of my mind.
Vincent… Viiiiiincent.
Then the voice changed to a man’s voice. A voice made of gravel and cigarettes. No longer friendly and inviting, but angry and dangerous. It was coming for me, and I was too scared to move.
Vincent… Closer…closer…almost there…
I woke with a start to find myself leaning with my back against the alley wall. I had fallen asleep propped up against it like some wino three fingers deep into the hoorah sauce. All I needed was a bottle in a brown paper bag and the image would be complete. I shuddered as I remembered the voice in my dream. It sounded a lot like—
“Vincent? Come on out, Vincent.”
…Kagan’s voice.
I shot to attention, looking toward the street. The blue and red lights were gone, which meant the police had taken who they were going to take and split the scene. I wondered if Drake had been one of the guys the police arrested, but then shadow crossed the alley entrance. I hid behind the trash can as best I could and sat unmoving as a stone, holding my breath and hoping they would just take a quick glance into the alley and keep walking. I figured it was still a good twenty minutes before sunrise, but there among the tal
l buildings direct sunlight would not touch anything for another hour or so. That left them plenty of time to find me. Too much time for my liking.
“Vincent, come out, we just want to know about Raine. Tell us where she’s hiding and we’ll leave you alone.”
Yeah, right. I believed that about as much as I believed I could fly out of that alley to get away. I looked around for a weapon, but found nothing but more trash cans and plenty of useless stuff all over the alley floor that should have been inside them. The only thing I could think to do was to pick up one of the trash cans and hope to knock one or both of them over with it. I doubted it would do much good, but I grabbed one of the handles and got ready to fling the whole fucking thing at them if they saw me.
I sat like a compressed spring, the muscles in my arms and legs coiled and tense, frozen in a moment of potential energy. The shadow in front of the alley grew closer, elongating as its owner stepped farther and farther away from the streetlight that gave it life. After what seemed like hours, a single, grubby foot came into view around the corner, followed by a leg. Then in a single ungainly step, the rest of Joel Kagan appeared in the alley entrance. Carl Sanders was right behind him.
Kagan peered into the alley, looking directly at me but not seeing me. He stepped over to the dumpster and looked behind it. Good thing I decided not to go back there; I’d have been caught for sure. After searching through the contents of the dumpster, he turned his back to me and walked toward Sanders, shrugging his shoulders. It took me a few seconds to figure it out. I was hidden. Sitting in the shadows, my body mostly concealed behind the trash can, and still wearing my black Harley shirt and dark jeans, I must have been all but invisible. There was no light at all this far back in the alley, and as a result, Kagan simply couldn’t see me. I started to relax.
Carl, meanwhile, had watched Kagan working, like a supervisor or a foreman. The points of his teeth almost glowed, even in the low light. That’s when I realized Sanders was the boss and Kagan was the flunky. I had suspected as much, but now I knew for sure. However maniacal and tough Joel Kagan was, this guy Carl must be much, much worse. The realization strengthened my resolve to move out of the city once and for all. If I made it out of this alley alive, I would go to stay with a friend of mine in Tennessee for a while. I wouldn’t make as much, but at least I’d be away from all these walking teeth.
As the two left, I let out a relieved breath. I hadn’t even realized I was holding it. The sound was so soft the night swallowed it whole, and I barely heard it myself, but Sanders froze. He whirled around to face the alley once again and started to look around, a strange bluish glow coming from his eyes like those of an animal when hit by a flashlight.
“What is it, Carl?” Kagan asked, “Did you hear something?”
He might as well have saved his breath, Carl wasn’t paying him any attention. The muscles in my arms and legs tensed once again, the spring ready for release. Carl’s indigo eyes roved from side to side, farther and farther down the alley. I’d have given anything in the world right then to be able to melt right into the wall, but of course I couldn’t. So I did the only thing I could do; I sat and watched, waiting for the inevitable.
It didn’t take long; ten seconds, perhaps. Maybe fifteen, but it felt like a lifetime. Those indigo eyes scanning, searching for any sign of the source of the noise. The closer his gaze came, the more rigid and tense my muscles got, until they felt like they might start to rip themselves apart from the tension of holding still, waiting to come to life.
Then the wait was over. Carl’s eyes found me. I could feel them lock on me and for one horrible second they held me in place, unable to move, much like when his eyes had pinned me to the sidewalk earlier. Carl smiled as his eyes confirmed what his ears had already told him, and that smile told me all I needed to know. I would not make it past them this time. I surprised them once by breaking his hold on me, but this time I was trapped. There was only one way out of this alley, and that was through them. Carl knew it, and what’s more, he knew I knew it, as well. The predator had finally caught up to his prey.
“You are a fool, Kagan.” Was all he said, as he started toward me.
Fuck me, I thought.
Chapter Ten
A Little Nap
Kagan scowled but said nothing. Then he, too, walked into the alley. There was no mistaking the fact that Sanders had spotted me; his strange blue gaze never left me as he took one slow, deliberate step after another. He was taking his time, and why shouldn’t he? He knew I wasn’t going anywhere; there was nowhere to go. The malicious glee in his eyes told me well enough what he had planned for the evening.
I was about to die. I knew it with as much certainty as I knew my own name. But somehow, the knowledge of my impending death didn’t scare me as much as it should have. On the contrary, I found it empowering, invigorating, even thrilling. It drove the fear right out of me. It no longer mattered what I did, because I couldn’t change the outcome. My heartbeats were numbered. The only thing that mattered was not going out like a scared sheep. I would not die hiding in a corner. If I had to die, I planned to make them work for it.
With a wild yell, I shot to my feet, throwing the can with every bit of my considerable strength. It was a good throw, too, the kind that you know is right on the money the second it leaves your hand. In a blur, the half-full trashcan flew through the air at the pair of them. Carl’s smile evaporated in an instant, but he kept the presence of mind to fling himself to the side. It probably helped that he knew I was there. To Kagan, however, it must have seemed like I’d appeared out of nowhere and hurled my missile at him. For a split second he didn’t move, and that was all the time it took for the can to connect squarely with his face and torso. The impromptu weapon knocked him flat on his ass and bounced over him, landing with a clang at the edge of the alley and rolling out into the street, leaving a trail of refuse behind it.
“Yes!” I shouted, pleased with myself. I even pumped my fist once in triumph.
My enthusiasm was short-lived. Half a second after being hit with the trashcan, Kagan was back on his feet, and the bewildered look was gone. Instead, he looked pissed. Sanders kept his black eyes trained on me, thin and sharp as daggers, their strange glow gone. I felt a tingle in my skin, as though his eyes alone could stab me and draw blood. The two of them started toward me again, albeit this time with a little more respect.
I looked around for another can, but there were none close enough to make use of. I didn’t see anything else in the alley I could use to fight them off. Nothing but my own two hands, anyway. Well, they’d already done some damage, hadn’t they? After all, I had turned a man’s wrist into splinters only a few hours ago. I might not be as strong as Kagan, but I was still pretty damn strong. If they wanted a fight, they could have one. I couldn’t win, but fuck it. I was ready.
Maybe not as ready as I thought. I squared my body and braced for the inevitable, but my foot slipped on something. To this day I don’t know what it was, it was dark and the alley was full of trash. It could have been anything from a banana peel to a dead rat. All I know is my right foot flew out from under me with a mind of its own, and I toppled backwards. Kagan and Carl paused in their approach long enough to laugh as I fell over. As I may have mentioned before, Sanders seemed to be enjoying himself, and the sight of me falling feet over ass probably looked funny as hell from his point of view.
But I got the last laugh.
Remember me telling you that the hero in many a story is usually blind luck? Well, luck could not have been any more blind than it was right there in that dark, dirty alley during the early morning hours of July 17th, 1986. As I fell sprawling to the alley floor, all my dignity and grace gone in the instant it took for my foot to fly, I instinctively reached out with my hands to try and stop my fall. My left hand closed around something small, round and solid. I gripped that blessed object and used it to steady myself just enough to keep from landing in the filth, and I ended up sitting by the wall, a
bit confused. I looked up, wondering what I had managed to grab.
There was the door! It shone in the night like a beacon. The fact that it hadn’t been there a moment ago was lost on me as I considered the implications. The Door! I’m not trapped! I might still be able to get out of this alive. Kagan and Sanders were still laughing, which meant they didn’t see it. Yet. But they would notice it soon enough when I opened it. Of course, they were still twenty yards away from me; they’d never be able to catch me in time. Or could they? I’d seen Kagan move pretty damn fast, and I had no reason to doubt that Sanders could do the same. I might only have a few seconds, but that should be enough, especially if there was a bolt on the other side of the door.
“Oh please God,” I whispered. “ Please let there be a big, stout latch on the other side of this door.”
Gathering up what remained of my courage, I flung the door wide open. Kagan and Sanders’ laughter ceased in an instant, as though cut off with a blade.
“NO!” Sanders yelled, “Oh, no, you don’t!”
Kagan growled his assent.
Oh, yes I do!
They ran at me full speed, and I didn’t have time to think about it anymore. I closed my eyes and whispered one final, quick prayer. Then I leapt through the door, not looking or even caring where it went, just as long as it got me out of that alley.
“Like Hell I don’t!” I shouted back. I managed to give them the finger before I jumped through the doorway.
Kagan and Sanders screamed. I couldn’t make out the words, but the sound of their fury turned my blood to water, and I nearly fell down again. By some miracle I kept my feet and threw all of my weight against the inside of the door. Then, with the click of the door’s latch, the screams vanished, leaving a silence so sudden and full it took me by surprise. I stood with my whole body braced against the wood, prepared to hold it with all my strength. The side of my face pressed against the cool surface of the door. The smell of old wood wafted through my nostrils, as well as moss and old stone. And something else. Something earthy and old, like rich soil. I waited a few minutes for the pounding to start on the other side of the door, but it never did.
