by G. K. Lund
I stepped in between a group of non-caring friends who were toasting with their champagne glasses as well. They obstructed me, and him, from each other’s and anyone’s view. Or so I thought.
Chapter 19
By letting confusion and the movements reign, Peter found himself by one of the side entrances of the library. He had gone down after the waiters had sent Evy’s tormentors away and followed through the same door she had used. That had led him to a smaller lobby that led back to the outdoor area belonging to the Ashdale Archives and Library. He could see the large white tents out there and all the people. Evy was long gone, thankfully, and while he remained indecisive, he had moved with the crowd and ended by one of the exits that was used as a delivery entrance because of its large double doors.
Peter opened one of them and stepped outside, the cool air and lack of bodies packed too close was an immediate relief. To his left, he saw the fences raised for tonight to keep people outside the security checkpoints. Two uniformed men by the doors made Peter aware that he would likely have to pass through security once more to get back into the building, but he didn’t care. The cool and fresh air was worth it.
The continued events of the evening cruelly decided to stomp on that moments later as he noticed a car further down the street and some people getting into it. The long and thick hair that unmistakably belonged to Evy was placed among four people. Peter recognized the man and woman from inside the library, but the other two hadn’t been there. A man and a woman, also dark haired and dark eyed, were dressed in suit and pantsuit, unlike the other two that sported jeans and jackets. The new man held something pressed to Evy’s side and she walked with stiff and restrained movement as she, to Peter’s horror, got into the car. The two new abductors got in with her, the doors slammed shut, and the car skidded to a start as it drove off. The blond woman and muscle man walked toward and blended with the crowd further down by the front of the library.
Peter found he was gaping. He glanced around. The security guards had seen nothing. They remained by the door, checking their damn phones.
Peter looked up and down the street before he decided to disregard Ben’s refusal to call the police. Evy had been abducted. How? She had gotten away. It had to be the two new ones. And where was the man with the long dark hair? That thought gave Peter the shivers, and he struggled to get the phone out of his pocket as the thing got caught on the pocket lining.
The door opened again somewhere to his right and a few people came out. Likely to get some air themselves, he figured as he dialed 911. He never got further with the call as he glanced up and looked right at Mr. Winter who was yelling, with a voice so low Peter couldn’t discern the words, at one of the men that were with him. The restrained anger in the man actually made the other two men, who were bigger and broader by far, look like scolded school children. One of them tried saying something.
“Never mind, just get the car,” Winter said with the air of someone who really, really wanted to yell at the top of his lungs. The men went off to do exactly that, glad to be away from their angry boss.
“Did she find you?” Peter asked. His words made the man spin around on his heels at the unfamiliar voice. He was highly strung and on the alert.
“What? You?” he said, recognizing Peter as the guy who was helping Ben. Winter took a step back and looked around, probably trying to see if Ben was there.
“Did she find you?” Peter repeated.
“She?” Winter echoed as he stopped moving. Peter noticed that he too had a phone in his hand.
“Her name is Evy. She needs your help, and she’s been looking for you.” Peter could hear an unfamiliar broken rasp in his voice. He knew he was in shock after seeing Evy forced into a car, likely by gunpoint, but the sight of this man, who was supposed to help her, angered him beyond any social conventions of politeness.
“What?”
“Did she find you?” Peter pressed. He could feel the grimace of anger on his face and saw the two security guards put their phones away.
“A woman?” Winter asked to clarify that Peter was in fact not talking about Ben. Peter nodded but didn’t take his eyes off Winter. Ben’s shit could wait. This was more important now. Then something changed in Winter’s whole demeanor, as something dawned on him. His mouth opened as he drew breath, shoulders lowered.
“There was a woman,” he admitted to both of them like he hadn’t realized until now. “She was…” he pointed to the door and looked that way too, before turning back to Peter. “I didn’t listen to her. She—”
“You didn’t listen to her?” Peter said, barely controlling his voice as the outrage seeped through. He didn’t know why. He hardly knew Evy. But what had happened to her wasn’t right.
The security guards made to come closer, but Winter stopped them with a quick motion of his hand, palm out. Peter hardly cared that they stepped back and found their phones again.
“I was distracted…by your friend.”
“I don’t give a shit, dude,” Peter said. He didn’t care who he was talking to. Didn’t care this man could probably blacklist him from any job in the city and beyond if he so chose. “She was forced into a car and taken away. I think they had a gun. And you didn’t listen to her?”
“What? Where?” Winter glanced around as if the abduction could still be happening right next to them.
“I don’t know what kind of weird shit she’s involved with, or you for that matter, but she was fighting hard to find you. She needed your help.”
“I…” Winter squinted his eyes shut a moment, trying to get his head around this. Then he opened them and spread his fingers, minus the two that were holding the phone, in a placating manner. “Hold on, Mr… Klein.” Peter was not surprised he knew his name. Winter had in all likelihood had him investigated along with Ben. Peter wouldn’t even be surprised if that had extended to Rose and Walter as well. “Let me get this straight,” Winter continued. “What kind of weird shit, exactly?”
“I don’t know. Something about being a slow-working poison. Some foreign company being after her. Yarov, I think it was.”
“Yorov,” Winter corrected him. And that was all it took. The man’s face fell into a blank mask as he drew his conclusions. Peter had the distinct feeling that from his confused and short explanation alone, Winter now understood more than him. He was starting to see where Ben’s frustration was coming from.
“You are right, Mr. Kl—”
“Peter.”
“You are right, Peter. I should not have made that mistake. Tell me what you know, please,” he added as a large, black town car approached. He held up his index finger to the driver to get him to wait. “If you do that I will help you with this.”
“Really?” Peter couldn’t hide the doubt in his voice.
“Really. Now put that away, if you don’t mind,” Winter said and nodded toward Peter’s phone where the screen still lit up the three-digit number he hadn’t yet called. “No need to call them yet.”
Peter nodded as he thought it over and then did as told.
“Good,” Winter said. “I’ll do what I can, though I can’t promise it will be much. But I need to be clear about something. I am going to help only you.”
Chapter 20
I weaved my way through the crowd, focused, decisive, unnoticed. No security guards ever stopped me or found me. I didn’t think about it, not even the botched attempt at getting Winter to talk to me. I only had my eye on the exit. I felt a concentration that didn’t extend outward, but inward. It was as if I was drawing a shield of some form around the body that caged me. I walked, and people subtly moved out of my way.
Despite this halfway trance, a small part of me observed it with curiosity. I was doing something not to be noticed, and more importantly, it was working.
Cool air hit the body as I stepped outside by the main entrance of the building. It felt like such a relief I lost control of the cloaking effect at once. Because that was what it was. Olivia had me
ntioned it. I had been walking, not invisible, but somehow hard to spot. I hadn’t done it on purpose when she saw it, not even now had I done that, but I had done it. And it had saved me from the security guards. Once they lost track of me, they hadn’t been able to spot me again in the crowd. Maybe I had a knack for being ignored? You would think that was a bad thing, but then again, in this case I felt the corners of the mouth move upward. Then I felt the hairs on the back of the neck rise, an odd sensation. Like shivers from cold, even though I wasn’t freezing.
I glanced around, but people were busy with themselves and their companions. I had a feeling I was being watched. It made me uneasy and I began walking away from the library. It couldn’t be the security. They would not watch from afar. Nor was it Winter. He had seen me alright, likely because he had been paying close attention… or he was immune to it. Either way, he hadn’t made a move to follow me.
So who then? None of the people around me stood out. Not one of them paid me any attention beyond smiling in passing. This was a night of community if nothing else.
I sped up a little and decided to leave the charity event. No point in trying to reach Winter again that night. He would be long gone judging by his reaction. It was not only that I frightened him, he also looked pissed off at my being there. Or rather, not being there; just being in general. Why? What was it he recognized in me? He had been angry. Confused as well. Surprised, but that was understandable given the circumstances. He had brought that on himself. Both Peter and I had been civil in requesting meetings, some sort of communication. But from the moment Winter saw me trapped together with Olivia that day in Saphia’s office, he had done everything to keep me away from the truth. How was that helping anyone? If he could help me put the puzzle pieces back together in this weak and broken mind, then I could most likely leave. Surely that would benefit all?
The sound of boots walking on the ground somewhere behind me drew my attention away from the frustrated anger I felt regarding the night’s defeat. I stopped a moment, and so did the sound. It hadn’t been loud to begin with, only soft footfalls that were amplified a little due to hard soles under shoes.
I didn’t look back. It was curious how the instincts in the body went on high alert. Suddenly the sounds of the city around me were tuned out or in, depending on their possible connection to the threat. I could feel the whole body getting warmer, and the eyes scanned the surrounding area, trying to get a sense of the location of the perceived threat, as well as find any possible escape route. That reminded me of Evy’s hazel eyes. She had done the exact same thing when we met her in the library. And through all of that, I managed to stay still and feel the sensation that told me most about imminent threats. The one instinct that was mine, not the body’s.
I was standing in North Street in Harrow, on my way south to Old Ben’s place. Usually, there would be lots of people out, even if it was late and dark as it was now. The charity event must have drawn most of them. I saw a person or two up ahead, but they were walking purposefully toward something, not wandering about the area, going to bars and restaurants like people usually did there.
I began walking again, keeping to light footfalls myself. The shoes I was wearing had softer soles, and by doing this I could hear the steps somewhere behind me again.
I inhaled the crisp night air and took stock of the situation. Someone was following me, and no one was going to die. At this point at least. Who could it be though? Winter’s goons had lost track of me inside the tent, and there really was no one else to take an interest in me. Had someone noticed my little trick in the crowd? That could have happened, I realized. I was not invisible, simply hard to notice unless one paid attention.
Someone had indeed paid attention.
I kept walking a little while considering what to do. From what I could hear, straining the ears, I thought whoever it was, was walking on behind me across the street. That could give me some time. I didn’t particularly like being cooped up in Old Ben’s apartment, and so I did spend large portions of days outside, which meant I knew the area of Harrow pretty well by now. As I came up to the entrance of a narrow alley that was situated between a vegan restaurant and a steakhouse, I quickly went left and into it. Not something any sane person would do this late, especially when the area was this deserted, but sanity is disputable. I was less worried about being robbed than I was the person following me figuring out where I lived. Also, I knew that the alley made a ninety-degree turn to the right further in, before continuing between the large buildings out into Caraway Street.
I sped up once I was inside, and hurried through, almost stepping out into the next street. That would probably have been the sane thing to do, but I wanted to know who this person was. So instead I maneuvered the body over some bags of trash thrown next to an overstuffed Dumpster and took cover beside a protruding back entrance of some restaurant.
Sure enough, the steps came shortly after me. They reached me like an escaping echo flying before the owner of those feet. Whoever it was had sped up when I took an unexpected turn into the alley.
Time to test my new trick, I thought, and tried to recall how I had done it in the tent. I had been focused on my goal, not paid anyone around me any attention, but that didn’t seem to work. I’d had a sense of being there, but not a part of it. I shook the head, as the steps came closer, and tried again. I hadn’t concentrated on doing it, it had happened without my trying hard… like breathing. The brain stem took care of that. I could override it of course, but not for long.
Don’t think about it.
I moved the head from side to side and tried again. Didn’t focus on much around me. Simply observed. The foul smell of the trash was now getting even sourer as it had lain there too long. The looming buildings that surrounded me, all in concrete except the one I was leaning against that sported ochre-red brick on its walls. The little source of light in there that came from Caraway Street and a small lamp further in. It didn’t give me away but made it possible for a person to walk through without tripping.
A sensation of being shrouded made itself known. I observed this with detachment. That seemed to be the trick because as I looked down the body I thought I could see a shade around me, a dark gray, yet see-through film that hovered around the body. I tried releasing it and saw the shade move inches away from me. I observed the steps again and pulled the sensation back toward me. The shade reacted and enclosed me before I saw a figure emerging by the lamp. I watched with detached interest, observing, but not letting emotions cloud my thinking. And that was it. I understood what Olivia had seen now. Not the shade, but a person that was hard to focus on unless you knew where to look. The sense of accomplishment almost made me lose it, but my new-found stalker was too close for that. I let go of the emotions, and observed him as he came into view – and then disappeared from it. The little lamp was obscured by something dark. I saw tendrils of it move like smoke before the glass orb was completely covered by it, and the alley fell into darkness. Something flowed before the man, I had at least had time to determine he was one before it blinded me. I could hear the steps though. The body wanted to betray me. The heart rate increased, and I felt warm again and a need to breathe faster. As with pain, you learn to stay in control. I pushed all of this back and remained where I was. The fog itself gave off no scent. It didn’t feel different to breathe in as opposed to air either. The steps moved a little slower. Could he see me through this fog? It was not a natural occurrence. I was sure of that. Yet his steps came faster and with purpose. Unlike me, he was not blind. I fought down a bout of impending fear and remained still, cloaked and silent. His steps moved past me.
The darkness began to give way as I could discern details of the buildings around me. He was nearing the street and whatever he was doing was not something he would be doing out in the open. No, this was his way of camouflaging himself where he risked being attacked.
He let the dark fog fade, the swirls thinning and disappearing into nothing. And there stood
a man I hadn’t seen before. Young, maybe the same age as the body I was in. Tall and broad-shouldered. Dressed in clothes much like myself; jeans, shirt, jacket. Heavy boots though. His hair reached his shoulders and from what I could see in the dark alley, it was either dark brown or black.
He stood looking to each side, wondering where I had gone. He glanced at his phone as it lit up in his hand, but made a grimace of impatience at the intrusion, before making a decision to head to the right. If I had gone out there first I guess he would have been correct, as that was the way toward Old Ben’s apartment.
I waited a few seconds before I disentangled myself from the wall and walked gingerly over the trash bags strewn around me. Not once did I lose grip on the shaded cloak around me. I followed the man out on the street, and saw him further up ahead, walking without purpose in his strides. He had lost me.
I couldn’t help the grin that escaped me, and as a consequence, the mirage around me almost did as well. I refocused and followed after the man. I could think while doing this, but I couldn’t let emotions get the better of me. It would break the illusion.
I kept as close to the buildings as I could, marveling at the fact that no one seemed to notice me as I passed. Not that there were many people out. After a while, I noticed there were even fewer than you’d expect. It might have felt like the whole city was at the charity event, but that was of course not the case. I let my attention wander a little wider as I kept the eyes fastened on the long-haired man. He had given up by this point and was walking with purpose toward some place. I wanted to know where that was. I wanted to know why he had been following me. But as the area became void of people and I paid attention to it, I realized we were headed toward Cury Square. People came here in large numbers during the day, but not at night. Even after the police had cleared the scene. What was this man doing here? He didn’t seem like the mourning type. I knew the area well enough to expect the narrow little alleys and passageways. It was what made for quaint little eateries and craft shops.