Chapter 16
For our mad dash through the northern portion of Central Park, we stayed away from well-lit paths as much as possible and basically waded through every bush, shrub, and bramble we could. It wasn’t just a matter of evading whatever remaining bounty hunter types who might surface. New York’s Finest had finally gotten their act together. Seems the sound of automatic gunfire in the middle of Central Park causes them to mobilize in fairly large numbers.
The street surrounding the north entrance to the park was, perhaps not surprisingly, lined with cop cars, fire trucks, and ambulances. And bystanders, fortunately for us. We were able to merge effectively with the steadily increasing mass of onlookers, and once we’d pushed through them, we were basically home free.
We walked the remaining three blocks to Clara’s apartment. She lived in a nondescript building on a street full of nondescript buildings. I honestly didn’t know how she told them apart.
“It’s on the top floor,” she said as we climbed into an elevator that didn’t look like it was up for a trip all the way to the top. “It’s not much, but I have roof access, which is cool.”
“Not much” turned out to be only a little bit bigger than Brenda’s hole in Chinatown. The kitchen, living room, and bedroom were basically all the same room. And Clara’s bachelor-like tendencies made it seem even smaller than it was. To wit, there was a stack of pizza boxes in the corner, and that was the only spot on the floor not covered in unwashed clothing. At least she had her own bathroom, small though it was. (Sink, toilet, shower, but no tub. Again, only a small step up from Brenda’s, but a step nonetheless. Plus, this bathroom was clean.)
I helped myself to the bathroom sink, rinsing my wrist carefully. I’d taken a good bite out of myself, but it looked like it was already starting to heal.
“I don’t have any bandages,” Clara called from the kitchen area.
“How about some ice and a hand towel?”
“That I have.”
She appeared momentarily with ice bundled in a towel, offered with a slightly trembling hand. I’d have worried that the towel wasn’t clean, but infection is another one of those things that I don’t have to worry about.
“Let me see,” she said, pointing at my wrist. I held it up. “Ugh. Didn’t that hurt?”
“Not as much as getting peeled by a demon would have.”
She reached out to touch it.
“Don’t.” She jumped back. “My blood might still be toxic.” I pressed the ice up against the wound and stepped past her and out of the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” I asked, stopping beside her as she used the doorjamb to support herself. Her cheeks were flushed with blood and her hands were still shaking.
“Yeah, I… just…”
“Take some deep breaths,” I said. “You look ready to faint.”
“It’s the adrenaline,” she said. “I’m still a little buzzed.”
“Near-death experiences will do that,” I said. “Even to me.”
She nodded. “Was that thing… that was a demon?”
“Yeah. Aren’t they fun?”
“I didn’t think… I mean, we talk about them on the MUD, but I never…”
“I know. It’s like discovering Santa’s real, isn’t it?” I was looking for a place to sit. My options were the bed or an uncomfortable-looking bar stool in front of the kitchen counter.
“Yeah,” she smiled, relieved to have it put into context. “Um, but Santa isn’t real, right?”
“Not so far as I know.”
“Oh, good. Because I’ve been sorta naughty. Here.” She swept a pile of clothes off the bed. “It’s laundry day.”
I wanted to say it looked like laundry day had passed her by a month ago, but I was a guest. Instead, I sat, which felt uncommonly good. I was fighting a little dizziness myself.
We went through an awkward silence, with her back by the bathroom door and me trying to hold onto my equilibrium.
“Oh, hey,” she said, breaking the moment. She fell to her knees, put one hand on my thigh, and reached between my legs and under the bed. She emerged with a laptop. “We should check the MUD.”
She sat down beside me. It was not the firmest mattress ever built so we ended up sagging together until our thighs and shoulders touched. At around that moment a certain part of my anatomy reminded me that she was an exceptionally attractive young woman.
She flipped open the laptop and started typing away.
“I don’t know a lot about computers,” I said, “but shouldn’t that be hooked up to something?”
“It’s WiFi,” she explained.
“Okay.” No clue.
“Wireless,” she elaborated. “Pirated, actually. The guy two floors down has wireless network access. I’m kinda stealing it.”
I was reminded of a conversation I had with a guy once who couldn’t stop talking about this new thing where you could send your voice through the air and have it heard on the other side of town. I thought he was certifiable. Twenty years later everyone had a radio. So I knew better than to say “oh, c’mon, how does it really work?” even though the concept of stealing Internet access out of midair sounded preposterous.
The familiar MUD frame popped up on her screen. She scanned the messages carefully. “Looks like nobody has posted much of anything yet. Should I say something?”
“No,” I said. “That would be incredibly dangerous.”
“They’d never believe me.”
“Who?”
“My friends. If I told them I had the immortal in my room, sitting on my bed… !”
“You can’t,” I said seriously. “It would put both of us at risk.”
She checked my face to see how not kidding I was. I tried to look grave, as opposed to tired, hungry, and mildly hung over. Evidently I passed, as she closed the laptop and slipped it back under the bed. “Yeah,” she said, sounding disappointed. “I guess.”
She pushed away from me until she was sitting at the head of the bed, where she sulked for exactly two seconds before returning to the main theme, which was, “Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here!”
“Is it really that exciting?” Her adrenaline had returned in force, while mine was nowhere to be seen. Ah, youth.
“Yes!” she declared. “Oh, I have
“I have a lot of them,” I said dully. “I’ve been going by Adam lately.”
“Hah! Like Adam and Eve?”
That hadn’t actually occurred to me. “Sure.” I was fading badly. It had been a very long day.
Clara kept on talking. She had a lot of questions, and they came one after the other in rapid succession with no real pause in between for a proper response, which was okay by me because at some point I leaned backward
