Chapter 2: The Alley Where My Fate Changed
"It's fine, I was in my own world," Taking in this new person in front of me, I didn't think much of her other than she was around that age I'd been thinking I was, 18 and that she was huge.
Not in a fat way, but that way I'd expect out of soldier, like she was ready to wreck some shit up. She was wearing something of a jumpsuit and looking like they'd just come from a run, and given that it was raining, that meant she was soaked.
"Pat," I held out a hand to shake.
"Louise," She sat down on the chair across from me, not shaking my hand. Which given my state of dress… and how I woke up in a puddle, I don't blame her, I wouldn't shake me hand either.. "Hope you don't mind me sitting here, all the other tables are full."
I took a quick look around the room, finding that I'd somehow not noticed earlier the other tables being full.
"I'm told that it's a free country," I moved my eyes back to my food, seeing that the plate was nearly empty. "Can hardly stop you. You've already sat down and look like you could defenestrate me with one hand."
I tried to keep my tone light as if the day hadn't bothered me but I was sure that some of my shakiness got through. The only thing that I could hope for was that the girl put it down to me looking homeless.
Homeless could mean that I'm coming off drugs… not sure why I wanted that.
"Always wanted to try it," she shrugged, a slight grin on her face. "Just never found a reason to."
"Sorry, but I don't plan on giving any reason," I took a few more bites from the pasta in front of me.
Watching as Louise took a comic out of her bag, I found that I couldn't recognize it, but that's not saying much given that I only really read a handful of DC titles. "Whacha reading? If you don't mind?"
"Hyperion: Judgement Day," She raised a single eyebrow in disbelief if I was reading her face right. "You're not a comic fan?"
"Sure… just more into the Irish comic scene," I lied back, trying to think of a reason why I didn't know the comic. Though, really I hadn't needed to and that was more likely to lead to more issues than solutions.
"There isn't an Irish scene for comics," Louise responded, her expressionless amused than it had been before. "I should know, been to Ireland before."
"Exactly, hence my lack of comic knowledge," I recovered instantly, giving her a hammy wink from my left eye. Something that did cause her to let out a small giggle, something that seemed to ease the tension that I'd caused earlier. "Tell me about Hyperion?"
"You don't know about Hyperion?"
"Just general stuff, last of his race, sent off to Earth by birth parents," I shrugged, watching as Louise actually twisted her ponytail, squeezing the water out of it and letting it hit the ground. "Raised to be a good little American, but that's about it."
"You've got the right of it," She told me, her eyes reaching towards mine as I leaned back into my chair. "Except for the odd issue that modern-day comics have where it just can't stop making evil alternate timeline versions of him."
"Gets boring?"
"Gets boring," Louise nodded, her eyes coming back to read the pages down below. "And makes being a fan really hard at times."
"I've got a question?" I asked while reaching for the last few forks of my meal.
"Good, because mine's what's the question?"
I couldn't help but laugh out loud at that one, using my left hand I forced my fringe out of eyes. Honestly, I hadn't expected that I'd be laughing like that so soon but it could've been due to mania setting in. I'm told that people eventually fall into that when they go mental.
"You know where the nearest phone booth is?"
"Yeah, it's around just down the block," Louise pointed out the door and to the left. I could tell that she was kind of confused by this response. "Why, is your phone not working?"
"Must have broken it," I shrugged, standing up and hearing the squeak of my shoes on the floor below. "Got some calls to make, maybe I'll see you around sometime?"
"Maybe."
x-x-x
The phonebooth I found was old, it was rusted in some places. The glass that made the walls were broken in the sides, the shards had been gathered up and gotten rid of a long time ago from the lack of any surrounding the booth. The phone itself though?
That was glistening clean, with glowing blue buttons and two green neon swirls for both the mic and the speaker. It was like someone had put a brand new phone in but for some reason didn't bother with replacing or even just fixing the rest of the booth.
I think that I spent over ten minutes going over the phone booth, trying to figure out several things. First, how to use a payphone, since I've never actually used one before in my life. The second, was it broken or did I just not know how to call people internationally with it?
I checked the device over, finding no fault in any part of the slick machine before me. Couldn't even understand the damn blasted thing.
"What's wrong with it?" Growling, I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. "This shouldn't be so hard, it's a fucking phone!"
Stamping my foot down hard the phone booth's floor… I heard a rather loud crack spread from my feet. I flinched, closing my eyes hard enough that I would be surprised if they disappeared into the recess of my sockets.
"Just what I need." I opened my eyes and stared at the ground that had dared to break because I put my foot down on it too roughly. "To be arrested for destruction of public property."
That was when I noticed the sign I was standing on, a crack running through the form of what looked like a steel sign saying: "Out of Order."
Taking a deep breath, I was about to turn around and leave the booth… till it started to ring, the chime an alien sound to my ears, like something I'd expect a xenomorph to make before leaping at their prey.
"It's ringing?" I glanced left, I glanced right, hoping that someone would run up and reveal that it was for them, because the only other option was that someone was watching me at this very moment. That was when… the numbers on the phone changed into letters, going from a soft blue to a sinister green.
ANSWER THE PHONE
My heart skipped a beat, my mouth dropping in surprise. So I picked it up, letting the speaker touch my ear slowly while letting the mic come to be about a cm away from my mouth.
"Hello?"
There was no response, not even the sound of heavy breathing to signal that someone really was on the other side of the call.
But there was an odd electronic whine on the other end, something that was sending a chill that crept up my spine.
"Listen carefully," The voice was distorted, making the voice unrecognizable barring that upper-class style accent. "There's an alley to your left, go down it. If you do not, people will die."
"Wai-" I was interrupted by a click and then another electronic whine that told me that they'd hung up on me. I glanced back to the number pad, the symbols once more becoming normal lettering.
It was only then that I finally looked down the alley, watching as a very suspicious-looking man walked down, looking like some mix of a terminator or Kyle Reese with the large coat that could hide weapons.
I knew that it was a bad idea to walk down there, especially in a city like New York, and having already been told that there was trouble about to go down there.
It was just I couldn't help but wonder what exactly was going to happen down there? Would it answer how I got here? Why I was here?
But there is just as likely that it was some sort of trap, laid by the people that had put me here. I don't know why they'd let me go and then set up a situation to recapture me. It could be to let me panic, see how I'd react.
This all could be some kind of sick experiment.
Deciding to take a chance on it, I walked down the alley with a keen eye for any funny business.
It was a massive alley, at least to my small-town sensibilities, so much so that I could probably have a game of soccer comfortably here with two full teams. At the center of the alley, two guys were standing all their lonesome.
One was a black man, at least close to middle-aged, with a close beard, wearing a black coat with his hands stuffed into the pockets while a plaid shirt was barely peeking out from beneath. Also on his face, I could see the thick black rims of his glasses.
The other man was in a large beige coat with a tall collar covering the bottom of his face. While the other man had dark hair this one's hair was red, with the grey creeping up from the roots, giving him a far older appearance dispite the fact that his face had fewer wrinkles than the other man.
They hadn't noticed me, or at least I was far enough away that they didn't take any heed that I was here.
It was odd looking at them though, as if I could see them better than I would normally from this distance, even making out the lip movements that the black man was using as he talked to his friend.
But I didn't know how to read lips, so that was useless to me.
That was when I heard the screeching of a pair of tires, causing me to snap my head away from the two men.
It was another pair of men, one riding on the back of a motorbike while the other one drove it, this time wearing all black and with helmets that obscured their faces from view.
My heart metaphorically exploded in my chest as the one with their hands free raised up a gun, some sort of automatic weapon from what I could tell. Without thought, I screamed, my left arm reaching out as if it would warn the pair better.
"LOOK OUT!"
But the first two men were turning to face me rather than the oncoming threat aiming at them with each passing second.
Adrenaline must have started to rush through my veins as the world slowed down and even though I knew it wouldn't make a difference, I ran towards the duo as fast as I could.
My feet slammed into the pavement with loud clacks as the world blurred around me, the muzzle from the gun flared.
But the sound of the gunfire didn't come yet, instead, it slowly moved in the air. It was like a miracle from the Lord himself, letting me slam into the two none-motorbike riding men though letting the bullet hit my body.
"Shit," I swore rolling on to me side as the world speed back up and the motorbike ran off into the distance. My hand went to the newly made hole my jacket, trying to keep the blood that would no doubt be pouring out of the bullet wound. "Fuck."
"Jesus Christ!" The white man of the two men I'd saved swore as well. His hands coming down to hold my hand, the one already covering the hole. "You going to be okay kid?"
His words broke me out of a haze, letting me realize something important.
"I feel fine?" I replied, confused by my own statement, my hand pulling away from my jacket, much to both men's horror, to reveal that there was no blood. "Did they miss?"
"No," The greying-red-head answered, his now free hands coming up from the ground to showcase something trapped between the sleeves of his coat. "The bullet flattened against your skin."
None of us spoke for a while after that, not sure if it was because they were as gobsmacked by this as I was or if they were just waiting for me to speak up about how such a thing was possible.
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