Chapter 17
Identify Yourself
A crowd of late-night, New York theatre-goers filed out of a show towards the subway station, narrowly missing the homeless man passed out at the bottom of the steps. The mass exit provided the patrons a feeling of security they rarely enjoyed on the streets at night. A woman in a large fur coat gripped the arm of a taller, more masculine woman, as they discussed in hushed voices the performance of Dr. Everett Scott and the need for theater to employ actual handicap people for handicap roles. Jeremy appeared on the sidewalk out of thin air, holding a bloody, lifeless girl in his arms. Then a cat materialized next to him. The cat placed a paw on Frisky and said, "One third," before disappearing back into the crisp night air.
The woman in the fur coat screamed and a wide circle opened up in the crowd.
"I need some help!" called Jeremy. He leaned across Frisky and pressed his mouth to hers in an attempt to resuscitate her. He pushed air in and pumped on her chest. At last, a police officer appeared and corralled off the crowd. "What happened?” he barked.
Jeremy only shook his head. Ambulance workers moved in and Jeremy attempted to step back into the crowd. "We're going to need to ask you some questions," said the officer, holding a hand up to Jeremy.
"She couldn't breathe."
"He appeared out of nowhere!" called a voice from the crowd. "There was a cat!"
"I'm going to have to ask you to come with me, sir."
Jeremy bit down on his finger nails and looked away. "I don't know," he said dreamily.
"Sir."
An ambulance worker appeared at the officer's side. "She's lost a lot of blood. Multiple broken bones, probably internal bleeding. She has burns, too. There was a struggle."
Jeremy turned to run into the crowd when someone bear hugged him from behind.
"I'm going to need some back up," said the officer into his radio. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you do or say can be used against you in the court of law."
The officer continued to Mirandize Jeremy as he twisted his arms behind him and slapped on the cuffs. The officer kicked the inside of his knee and Jeremy fell forward against the hood of the police car. He was shoved into the back seat.
Jeremy remained silent during the ride to the station. He looked out the window and watched the city lights whir by. I'll just wait until these cuffs are off, then I'll go back, he thought to himself. All that mattered was that Frisky receive medical attention.
"What's your name?" asked the officer from the front of the car. "Got a name?"
Jeremy didn't answer. Frisky must have fallen off the rocks. The ambulance worker had said she had burns. Why would she have burns? Jeremy considered Frisky, her plain look and skittish demeanor. She was like some warped version of the old Maren, cute but pretty unremarkable. Jeremy felt guilty. He had made no effort to get to know Frisky, Maren's trusted friend. Now she was just a castaway, a side character to his life's paranormal freak show. Frisky.
Jeremy arrived at the police station and was processed before being led to a holding cell. John Doe: no identification, no personal property.
Jeremy Chikalto and Leviathan Island (Book II of The Hazy Souls) Page 18
