Purpose (3 page)

Two escalators went up, one down. Both were packed.

“Fuck!” Moving toward the center stairs, he decided on his plan. “Police! Out of the way!”

As people answered his command, he spared a second to scan the two up escalators. If Ryan was on one of them, he couldn’t see him.

People quickly moved to the right. Most were already there, preferring not to make the overly long walk. Running up the stairs, the muted voices commenting on his burst of speed washed away against the only thought he gave attention to: find Ryan before they do.

Twice more, he shouted for people to move right before he made it to the top. Dozens, even hundreds of people milled about the entrance. He cursed himself for not trying to read Ryan’s thoughts. If he knew what Ryan’s mind felt like, he could have used it to locate the kid.

Drawing a deep breath to settle himself, he extended his senses. Maybe he could find his scent, hear his voice, something. Another new emotion struck him: fear. He found nothing. Not possible. How could he lose that ability now?

Nothing made sense. A night that had started out so simple was now turning his world inside out.

“Officer?”

He stared blankly at the woman who spoke to him. When he made eye contact, she turned south. “These four young black guys were chasing some kid that way. I think he might be in trouble.”

Before she turned back, he’d already sprinted away. If she was wrong, Ryan was dead. He didn’t believe in luck, and this was too much of a coincidence. Having no other leads, he trusted his instinct. Something wanted him to find Ryan, so he went in that direction.

Whatever was happening, whoever was manipulating him, it was a mystery for another day. Right now he knew he had to save Ryan. For both their sakes.

P
EOPLE
lined the sidewalk, forcing Gar into the street. Most were staring in the direction the woman had pointed. Something was in that direction, but he couldn’t spare the time to ask anyone. Moving fast, his mind cleared enough for him to focus on his mission. Sounds erupted from all directions, nearly overwhelming him.

The influx of voices, car engines, dogs barking, feet pounding, told him his senses were not impaired. Still running, he tuned his hearing to footsteps, specifically those of people running. In the span of a heartbeat, he found his target. Ahead and to the right.

Good, they were still chasing him. He would make it yet. Ignoring the stares his passing caused, Gar ran even faster. Sloppy. People were going to talk. No one could run that fast, but he didn’t have time to hide his passing.

His illusion of a police officer did nothing to change his clothing. The long coat threatened to twist around his legs, but he dismissed any thought of tossing it aside. He untied the belt and let the fabric flow behind him, allowing him to increase his pace even more.

Using the crowd as an indicator, he knew he was on the right path. The pounding feet were closer. He was gaining. Ahead, he caught a glimpse of black-clad bodies turning a corner.

Locked into his target, he abandoned any doubt and ran as fast as his enhanced body would move. A scream so loud that everyone on the street turned cut through the night air. Ryan’s voice was nothing but fear.

Other voices, interrupted by gasps for air, reached him, but Gar didn’t listen. Didn’t matter what they said, he’d be there in a moment.

He turned where he saw the others disappear and understood why they had stopped: dead-end alley. Ryan stood with his back to the brick wall, wide-eyed and pale. Gar noted the uncontrollable shake in Ryan’s body as the four jackals slowly inched closer. White knuckles surrounded the small bag he carried off the train.

The one closest to Ryan inched closer. “You know what time it is.”

“Police!” Gar didn’t wait for them to react to his command. He tightened his leg muscles and moved the moment everyone turned toward the front of the alley. Using the split second before they could focus on him, he leapt over them, twisting in the process.

The space between them and Ryan wasn’t much, but he managed to avoid contact with the kid, landing a foot to the left. He reached into his coat and removed a collapsible metal baton with his right hand and a pair of brass knuckles with the left.

One step right, and he completely covered Ryan’s shaking form. Not risking a glance back, he kept his eyes on the startled thieves in front of him.

“Stay behind me, Ryan.”

A muffled grunt, barely audible, told Gar the kid heard him. He dropped the police officer illusion, staring calmly at his prey. Assessing his adversaries, he ignored the hint of a thought that said they were not the guilty. Too late for that—they would have been had he not stopped them.

“I know what time it is,” he hissed, tossing the slang for street robberies back in their face. “Time for vengeance to collect its fee.”

In the recent past, Gar had taken to finding a way to take out the guilty without doing it himself. This time he couldn’t risk it; Ryan was too close. One of them had a gun. He could smell it now. He definitely didn’t have time to make it look like an accident.

Spinning on his left foot, he kicked the kid with the gun so hard his skullcap flew off when his head hit the wall. Allowing his movement to carry him around, he brought the metal baton down on the arm of a robber with a knife. Metal on flesh and bone was no contest. Gar saw Ryan flinch when the kid let out a scream of agony and fell to the ground.

At least he would live, Gar noted. The first kid was probably dead already. The other two were rooted in place, stunned into inaction. Two seconds ago, they were about to rob a defenseless kid. Now they were being taken apart. Before they could run away, Gar lashed out.

Using the palm of his left hand, he struck the one closest to him. Even using the inner part of his hand, he heard the brass knuckles crack the kid’s sternum when he connected. The last kid finally moved and made it three steps before Gar swept his feet out from under him with the baton.

The face looking up in terror was that of a kid, a juvenile. They were all kids. Reaching toward the kid’s head, he heard movement behind him.

“Gar.” Ryan’s timid, urgent tone caused him to turn. “Don’t kill him.”

“I won’t.” His voice was a cold hiss. Instead, he touched the sweaty forehead, inserting confused thoughts. He quickly repeated the process with the others. The first kid still lived, but probably not for long. The other two, he left sobbing out their pain.

“Come on.” He grabbed Ryan’s left arm. “We need to go.”

Ryan resisted the pull, but Gar was prepared for this. “Either you come with me or I leave you to explain this.”

Ready to carry him if need be, Gar breathed a silent sigh when his second tug proved more successful. Walking quickly, he tapped the device on his belt again, this time imprinting two images: an old man and his wife.

They’d just cleared the alley when two young men reached the entrance. “You don’t see us,” he whispered, pushing the thought into their minds. Ignoring Gar and Ryan, they moved a few steps into the alley.

“Call 911.” Gar barely heard the words in his haste to get away.

Keeping a firm grip on Ryan’s arm, Gar led them up 22nd Street.

“Gar, stop.” Ryan punctuated his request with a tug of his arm.

Gar felt the tug but ignored the request. They needed to put some distance between them and the alley. He knew he’d been careless, but he had barely arrived in time. Making sure to hide his passing might have cost Ryan his life.

Another pull back met with similar results. “Gar! I said stop!”

“Not here.” Still too close. He wasn’t sure if anyone else saw them leave. If they had, Gar didn’t get the chance to suggest they forget. “We’re too close.”

He pulled his unwilling guest up the mostly empty sidewalk. Powerful streetlights cast an eerie glow as they made their way between the row houses to their left and the unbroken line of parked cars to their right. Ahead, he could see and hear the traffic on R Street, zipping through the intersection. His place was still a fifteen-minute walk. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need to drag Ryan the whole way.

Without knowing when he’d decided it, he realized he was taking Ryan to his apartment. How could that be? Who was this kid that he’d so upended Gar’s existence?

Lost in his thoughts, Gar wasn’t expecting Ryan to suddenly stop walking. Unprepared, he yanked the younger man forward, barely noticing the resistance.

“Stop, you’re hurting me.”

Hearing the pain in his voice, Gar released Ryan’s arm like it had burned him. “Sorry, but we need to keep moving.”

“Not until you tell me what happened back there.”

Defiant, his voice demanding information like it was his right, Ryan faced Gar, bag still clutched in his hand. Gar blinked twice, then turned away.

“Suit yourself.” Much as the kid intrigued him, he wouldn’t change his plans. Probably better this way. Something about Ryan felt different, and Gar didn’t like mysteries.

He made it two steps before he heard Ryan come closer.

“That’s it?”

Gar stared at the young man he barely knew. He heard anger in Ryan’s voice, but there was something more. Something that impelled Ryan to chase him. The slight tremble of the lip, the nervous eye movement, the tense body language. Ryan was afraid.

“Yes. I won’t drag you where you don’t want to go.” He watched Ryan’s reaction for verification.

“Wait!” The desperation in his voice confirmed Gar’s assessment.

Having made no attempt to leave, the plea was without effect. “I wasn’t leaving you.”

“Oh.” His eyes still darted about, but he seemed a bit less tense to Gar. “So what happened back there?”

Gar shook his head. “Not here.” Definitely not here. Even though his need had been great, he’d been careless. Too many people had seen him. People who would ask questions and demand answers.

He motioned with his head. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” Despite his visible concern, Ryan started moving in the direction Gar indicated.

“I’m going home. We can stop along the way if you like.”

“Oh.”

 “Where are you staying, Ryan?” He already knew the answer.

“I don’t know yet.”

Of course he didn’t. Until thirty minutes ago, Ryan didn’t have any idea what he was going to do next. What confused Gar was what he was about to do.

“You can stay with me if you like. I can sleep on the couch.”

Ryan stopped walking for a brief moment. “Ex… ex… excuse me?”

Gar turned around, pausing to stare at his companion. The eyes were called the window to the soul, but to him, they were a mask that had a thousand different faces. Gar still saw fear in Ryan’s eyes, only not as desperate. Now he could see doubt, indecision, and a hint of gratitude.

“If you have no place to stay, you’re welcome to stay with me. You can have my bed. I don’t sleep very much.”

Ryan stared at him, unfocused, as if lost in his own thoughts. Gar knew he was conflicted. On the one hand, he didn’t know Gar from Adam. Even though he’d been good to the kid, saved his life even, he was still a stranger. Then again, if he hadn’t done it already, Ryan had been prepared to go home with worse for the right price. Gar’s generosity ensured for a few nights at least Ryan didn’t need to make that choice.

 Suddenly, Gar felt Ryan’s fear again. Nodding at the kid, Gar let him know he understood. While Gar was better than most of the johns Ryan might encounter, none of them were capable of violence on the scale Gar had displayed moments ago. Ryan had good reason to be scared of Gar. But Ryan wouldn’t survive on the streets, and for some inexplicable reason, that bothered Gar.

“Ryan,” he said in a voice as soft and compassionate as he could manage. “You’re right to be scared of me. I am dangerous beyond anyone you will ever meet. But I would never hurt you. I… the offer is free of conditions. Just a place to sleep and be safe.”

“Why?” Such a simple word, but it confused them both.

“I honestly don’t know.” He shook his head. “You’re… you remind me of someone whom I cared for beyond all others. I lost him because I ignored the signs he was in trouble. Maybe by helping you I can redeem a small part of the guilt I’ve kept inside for so long. You have no reason to trust me, none, but I promise you have nothing to fear from me.”

“I don’t fear you.” He lied. Gar could see it despite how hard he tried to hide it. “If you wanted to hurt me, you had plenty of chances. I… I don’t know either, but I trust you completely. You’ve been nicer to me than anyone else has ever been.”

His hand strayed to the pocket with the money Gar had given him.

“So come with me. If you’re creeped out, you have my word, I won’t stop you from leaving.”

Checking again, Gar noted the fear was gone. There was still hesitation, but now he thought he saw a hint of… excitement? Stupid kid, he was better off being afraid.

“C’mon.” He motioned for them to keep walking. “It’s not too far. We can stop for food on the way.”

“Okay.” The voice was soft but firm.

For both their sakes, Gar hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. If he was, he was certain it would be Ryan who would suffer the consequences. And for the first time in more years than he could remember, someone else suffering bothered him.