Will. Time. Fate.

by Andrew Yake

  She pulls the phone from her ear, “Hey!” I turn and start walking away quickly cursing my luck. CRAP. I pick up my pace and start running as I turn a corner. If I had not still had that gun that I picked up with my target’s blood on it, I may have been willing to stop and try to explain that I had just gotten there. As it is, I am armed and I was seen standing in front of a pile of murdered dead people. I do not like my odds right now. I hear her running behind me, but she stops momentarily at the doorway where I was. I know that this has only bought me a few seconds. As I get close to another stairwell I decide to take it downward and hope that I will be able to either hide or find some way out from the bowels of the building. As I descend the stairs at a reckless speed I notice that Hailey’s muted smell is becoming stronger and that I may have found her trail again.

  I scan the doors and halls as I run through an obviously closed off wing of the hospital that is deep underground. There is no one present here. I burst through a door that simply says “KEEP OUT” in big letters. There are other letters underneath, but I do not take the time to read them. I am surprised that I can smell Benny’s subject of interest here. I consider simply hiding for a moment to see if I have lost the detective, but my adrenalin pushes me and my instinct is to run.

  I push myself to run faster. I burst through another door as I speed past many other rooms and corridors. Hailey must be down here somewhere, but why? Her scent is stranger now. It smells more and more like a mixture of Benny’s odd old smell with a muted tone of her own smell and I wonder if Benny is actually here also now. Maybe he took her, but why? To keep me working for him? I allow myself only a moment to consider these things as I push my body hard. I again hear footsteps pounding from behind me. I know that it is the Detective. Damn, is she like part bloodhound or something?

  I see a door that says “SERVICE” and I go through it. I look around me and see that it is part of an area of the building that has pipes running along the halls and that it seems to go beyond the limits of this building. I must be in service tunnels that go around to different buildings. I turn back toward the door I just came out of and see that there is a fire extinguisher and one of those axes for firemen to grab in a glass case.

  I use my elbow to break the glass and take the ax. I have no idea what I will be facing, but I decide that I would rather not resort to using a gun in an enclosed space. The shots would likely miss my target due to my inexperience with guns and I would likely go deaf. Of course, there is the obvious disadvantage of having to get up close and personal with an attacker when using any type of non-projectile weapon. I hurry down the long hall. It widens into an area that is wide enough to bring a vehicle down here. I can actually smell that someone had driven a vehicle here at some point. I smell that dog that I had smelled at the base. It is faint, but it is there.

  I hear that my pursuer has exited the same door that I came out of. I use the shadows to move slower and quieter. In the distance, I can smell the faint scent of the subway trains. I am sure that I can find my way to a train and disappear into a crowd of people as long as I don’t get caught by this cop first. I hear Detective Barr’s voice eco in the distance behind me. Her voice is not angry, but rather sweet and clearly meant to coax me out from hiding. “Zachariah? We need to talk. I know. I know about you and your mother. I can help.”

  I have no idea what she is talking about, but it does make me stop momentarily. I resist the urge to answer her. I can tell that she is moving slowly and making her way more carefully probably because she noticed that I had armed myself with an ax. I am willing to bet that she has her gun drawn as she attempts to make me reveal myself. She starts to speak again.

  “She’s fine by the way. Let me take you to her. She’s worried about you.”

  It occurs to me that I do not know if she is talking about my mother or Hailey. I desperately want to know, but I can tell that she is getting closer and I decide that the desired knowledge is not worth my freedom. I start moving again. I find a side tunnel that I can smell is connected to the sewer, but is also connected to the subways further down. I decide to risk it and I enter the tunnel. My sense of smell is overwhelmed by the variety of stench that resides here, but I concentrate on the smell of the subway and I try to block out the rest.

  I hear the echo of the detective’s voice again. It sounds farther away, but that could simply be a trick of the sounds bouncing off the walls. “Zachariah, you need to stop running from me. I am here to help you.” I keep moving. My eyes adjust to the darkness and I am able to see my way down the path in front of me from the minimal light that seems to radiate from different places. My vision almost seems to be improving as I go, but I do not see colors at this point. There is so little light that everything seems black and white and the only trail I am following is smell of the subway. I look back and see no lights coming from the direction of the detective’s voice. Either I am very far away or she doesn’t have a flashlight. Damn she is persistent.

  I turn my attention back to my escape. I continue moving. I come across the next tunnel. It is sloped downward and it smells cleaner and more like what I am searching for. Then I smell her again. Hailey? I quicken my pace. I am close now. I can almost feel the rumble of the trains. I move faster still clutching the ax with both hands.

  I see a light source emanating in the distance. I feel and smell fresh, relatively speaking, air rush toward me as I hear a fast-moving train zip past the far opening. The air carries her scent with it like a slap in the face. For a moment, I see a figure in the opening. I cannot help myself. “Hailey?” I call to her as her figure disappears from view. I am running toward the opening now. My heart is racing.

  Is it possible? Is she alive and did I instinctually follow her here? Is she running from something too? What would drive her down here? My mind races as I consider the possibilities. I am at the opening and can clearly see the tracks and tunnel open in either direction. I call up Hailey’s scent and follow it to the right. I move quickly. I am now griping the ax with my left hand and running along a side path of the train tracks. I pass a service tunnel to my right and I her scent trail is more potent than ever.

  I stop and turn around. There she is huddled in the corner of the tunnel. She is covered in blood and is looking at me as if she is not sure what to do. She is wearing the gown from the hospital. Her hair is sticking to her face and it looks as though she has been bleeding from her mouth. I am clearly able to smell the blood on her. I approach her unsure of what to expect, but sure that this is the love of my life. “Hailey? It’s me.” She moves suddenly. She is on her feet and she is clearly disturbed by my presence.

  “What are you?” She says softly to me.

  I am not sure what to make of her question. I take another step toward her. “I am that same guy that came to your rescue. You are that same girl that rescued me from my own life.” Her gaze shifts to my right. Her eyes are sharp and I see her muscles tense as if she is readying herself for an attack. I realize that she may be concerned that I have an ax in hand and I start to crouch down to put it on the floor.

  “Don’t.” Hailey speaks quietly as her eyes briefly alight on me before they return to the empty space to her left. I see her eyes narrow as if she can see something that I cannot. “Something is coming.”

  I look in the direction she is looking, but I see and smell nothing. To my credit I am upwind of whatever she is looking at. “So, let’s go.” I am still holding the ax and motion to her. She looks over at me once more.

  “You really don’t know what you are.” She looks at me for a moment more. “I don’t think…” she moves slightly, more gracefully than I remember previously, looking at her own bloody hands and clothing, “that I am worth saving.” She starts to sob. I notice that her tears are crimson. There is something very wrong and I can feel my stomach sinking. I just want to take her back to my apartment and clean her up. I cannot help my love for her and I desire to be there for her especially if she is sick and needs my help.
>
  I hear the footsteps of the detective approaching. I look in that direction and see that her gun is drawn and that she is approaching slowly. Her eyes are studying me, but she puts her index finger to her mouth, making the universal “be very quiet” sign to me as she continues her approach. I realize that the gun is drawn not for me, but rather for Hailey! I look back at Hailey. She trembles for a moment and then her head snaps back toward the approaching detective. Her movements, while extremely graceful, are almost too fast for me to see. She moves behind me and pushes me toward the detective. I hear her say, “I’m sorry.” She is gone from view before I am able to turn around.

  I slam into the Detective. She and I are both surprised that I have come flying through the dark against my own will. I am on my feet in the blink of an eye and I start running again. This time I am not following Hailey’s scent. I am simply running to get away. She is on her feet almost as fast and she yells at me.

  “STOP!” I do not stop, but she is keeping pace with me now. “She is not the same. LET HER GO!” I run harder and it feels like my heart will explode as my lungs start to burn from how hard I am pushing myself. Still, she is keeping pace with me. I feel a hand grasp my right shoulder and attempt to stop me with force. I jerk my shoulder free and spin violently changing my direction. I swing out with the ax and narrowly miss her head. Our eyes meet for a moment as she starts to sink below my line of sight. Her eyes are yellowish, not human. The ax strikes the wall and sparks as it becomes lodged in the wall.

  She had ducked just in time and rolled past me. I use my momentum to start running back the way that I came. I no longer have my ax, but I do not consider going back for it. I do not really wish to fight law enforcement now. I do not wish to find out who or what she is. I run back to the tunnel that Hailey had been in and feel a new burst of speed. My only concern is escape.

  I run for almost thirty minutes without stopping or slowing. I do not care where I end up as long as it is not near the detective. I no longer hear her or smell her. I run for another ten minutes before I feel like I will pass out from my exertion. I am lost, but only from the standpoint that I do not know exactly where I am now. I slow to a walk and sniff the air. It is foul, but I have started to grow accustom to it now. I am able to find a tunnel that takes me to another service area for the subway. Within another forty minutes of walking I turn up at Grand Central Station. I look and smell like a homeless person now. People avoid eye contact with me as I walk into the open. I keep my head down and my hands in my coat pockets. I use the bill of my hat to obscure my face and I walk toward a men’s room.

  I go to a sink and greedily drink water from the tap until my immense thirst is quenched. It is late morning now. I consider my next actions. I know that I need to change clothes, but I doubt that I should return home to do so. I know that I do not have enough cash to survive indefinitely. I decide to risk detection by electronic means. Looking at myself in the mirror I decide that it would be best to change my look as much as I can before I leave. I am not happy about leaving my jacket, but it is the best that I can do in the moment.

  I take it off and discard my button up shirt. I untuck my undershirt so that it hangs loose over the butt of the gun I still have tucked into my belt. I leave the men’s room and go to the nearest ATM. I put my bank card into the machine and pull out the maximum that I am able to pull out before I leave the station.

  I make my way to the nearest thrift store and purchase a new set of used clothing. I am now wearing cargo pants and a black hoody with an old olive-green military field jacket. I also purchase a different cap. This one is brown and has no logos or designs on it. I feel that I am much more able to conceal myself as I walk the streets. I put my cap on and put my hoodie up before I leave the store. I feel pleased that my outfit cost less than thirty dollars. I walk out into a passing crowd and start walking with them, blending in.

  I am walking with the crowd and do not think anything of the fact there are many people that are next to me. I am becoming more aware of my hunger as I walk and the smells of food are around me. I stop at one of the many food venders that line the streets of New York. Once I stop, I notice that a man that has been walking silently next to me listening to music also stops. He regards me and smiles. He has kind eyes and looks like he is only about twenty-five, but his eyes suggest that he is much older. He pulls his earphones away from his ears.

  “What a great idea! I could eat.” He pulls out a ten-dollar bill and buys two hotdogs and hands one of them to me.

  I eye him suspiciously, but I am hungry. I take the hotdog. “Thanks.” I bite into the food and watch as he puts a myriad of toppings on his hotdog. I continue to scarf down my food. It feels like I have not eaten in years. By the time he has finished with the toppings I have finished eating. I consider walking away, but figure that it would be rude and decide to wait for him.

  He turns back to me and takes a bite of his food, chews, and swallows. He starts to walk again and I walk beside him. “You know that you are being used, right?” He takes another bite.

  I look behind me and around me in either direction to see if I am being followed or if this guy seems to be with someone else, like an undercover cop. I then take a closer look at this man to see if I can see any telltale signs that he is a cop. I see nothing out of place. In fact, he is dressed so plainly and his look is so average, save for his piercingly sharp eyes, that I would not have paid any attention to him in this or any other crowd. My eyes meet his and I raise an eyebrow. We continue walking in silence for a moment longer.

  “You are going to make me say it, aren’t you?” I return my eyes to the sidewalk in front of us as we walk.

  “Yep.” He sounds happy with himself.

  “Fine. What are you talking about?”

  “Benny.” He takes another bite of his food.

  I put my hand on the man’s shoulder and come to a stop. “How do you know him?”

  “I don’t know him personally.” The man has stopped and turned toward me. “And he isn’t your friend. He is simply using you to get to someone else.” He studies my face for a reaction.

  “I know. He is looking for some girl with short red hair, a nurse or something.”

  This makes the stranger smile. He tosses the rest of his half-eaten hotdog into a trash can that is near us. “No, he isn’t. She is just the one in the way of who he is really looking for.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Oh, I know lots of things, but not all of them are helpful for either of us for this moment in time.” It looks like, for a moment, that he is trying to concentrate as if it is hard for him to keep himself on track mentally. “If you don’t believe me you can see for yourself.”

  “What do you mean?” I am becoming impatient with this man. “Better yet, tell me why I should believe you. It sounds like you want to use me.” I am making an educated guess at this point. In my experience, the people of this city don’t talk to strangers unless they can or they expect to get something from them.

  “You are correct.” The man smiles at me again and starts walking.

  “Correct about what?”

  “I am using you.” He says this in a matter of fact way as he walks. I widen my stride so that I am next to him again.

  “Why? What could you possibly gain from it?”

  “I gain… you not leading Benny to where I don’t want him... when I don’t want him there.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “There is much you don’t understand. The thing is that you don’t understand what you don’t understand.” He sticks his hands in his pockets as he walks.

  I am confused by what this man says, but I continue to walk beside him. “Well, Benny told me that he would help…”

  “Nope.” The stranger cuts me off. “He made sure that she served his purpose by dying.”

  This angers me. My mind is racing now. “What are you talking about?”

  The man stops and starts to rub his forehead as if i
t drains him to speak to me now. “I don’t have the time or energy to explain the rules of the world to you or the darkness that pierces the vale everywhere around us. Look for yourself and you will see it. I know that you are not going to leave this alone because you never have. Just as I know that if I don’t use you, you will end up getting in the way enough to get yourself killed and destroying the balance of life here.”

  I feel chilled to the bone by what he says, even though I do not fully understand it. “What if I don’t want to be used.”

  “Impossible.” He looks directly into my eyes now. “You will be used. It will be by me, Benny, or…” his voice trails off and he looks away. “Different is good.” He mumbles to himself and looks at me again. “This hasn’t happened yet. Curious.” He studies me again as if seeing me for the first time. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “You want to help. You want to take your own path and not harm the others, but I am telling you that you will harm people. You will kill again unless you simply run away and never look back.”

  I am frozen as he speaks. How did he know about that? I am unsure of what I should do next. “I… what?”

  “Are you really that blind to all that is around you? Put it together.” There is a desperation in his voice now.

  “Who… are you?” I feel unable to move, transfixed by his gaze.

  “Matt.” He offers me a weak smile. “You are Zack.” I continue to stare at him.

  I want to ask him more questions. I want to understand what he is telling me. After the night and day that I have had, nothing seems to make sense anymore. His inane ramblings seem to make more sense than my own thoughts right now. The answers seem to be within my grasp that will make my world right again, but I cannot seem to get to them. I open my mouth to speak. I am looking directly at him and he fades from existence.