Page 2

He decided to stay in the alley a while longer, and then retrace his steps. He reviewed the quickest way to safety: back up the alley, then the stairs, into the maze of lanes which he had familiarised himself with, and then down the hill on the other side, and he’d be back among the bright lights of town, just in time to mingle with the crowds as the movie theatres disgorged their night show audiences. If he didn’t run into any trouble, he could do it in three quarters of an hour.

Something moved at the other end of the alley, a quick silent shadow slipping behind an old rusty dumpster, and he stiffened, the knife already in his hand. But it was too small for a human, and on all fours; and after a moment he heard a soft whine. He relaxed slightly, but only slightly. He had a sense of danger all around, and suddenly he wished he hadn’t come.

He stayed in the alley for half an hour longer, until it was already close to midnight. The gang car had cruised by once more, and then another, larger, newer, an SUV on built-up tyres, roared by, music thrumming loudly from speakers. Once it was gone, he slipped out of the alley and back up the stairs.

He was almost at the crest of the hill when he heard the moaning. It was soft, agonised, almost like the whining of the dog earlier in the alley; but this was no dog.

Flattening himself to the wall of the nearest building, he tried to locate the sound. It was close, but he was in a maze of tiny lanes and cul-de-sacs, and it took a few moments before he decided it was coming from his left, where there was a narrow space between two concrete walls of old buildings.

It was beginning to break up now, from a constant moaning to a harsh choked sobbing, and he was strongly tempted to slip past and leave. But when he tried to force his legs into motion, they seemed to have frozen on him. And a memory came to him, of how he had first encountered the Woman, and in saving her, saved himself. And he remembered, too, of what she had told him of how she had come to be who she was.

He still had to nerve himself to enter the space between the walls. The buildings were windowless and vanished up into the darkness, and so close together he could have easily spanned the space between them with his arms. And that space was full of debris; his boots kicked away rubble and remains of packing cases, and something small, furry and squeaking ran away into the darkness.

He found her behind a pile of trash, lying in a foetal position with her arms clasped round her midsection. He couldn’t see her face, which was screened by her hair, but her bare arms were covered with gang tattoos and her black sleeveless T shirt was half ripped away.

Unthinkingly, he crouched down beside her and touched her shoulder. "Hey," he said softly. "Stop crying. Listen."

Her arm lashed out at him so hard that – smacking into his thigh – it almost knocked him over. "Get away from me," she hissed, without looking at him. "Don’t you fucking dare touch me again."

"What?" Rubbing his thigh reflexively, he stared at her. "I haven’t done a thing to you."

Slowly, her head lifted, the hair parting to show her face. She was very young, probably in her mid-teens, and even in the darkness he could see her beauty. She was very good looking, but her looks were marred.

She’d been beaten, beaten savagely. He could see that too. Dried blood was crusted black below her split lip, and the skin around her eyes was puffy and swollen. The white of one eye was suffused with blood as well. She looked at him and struggled to sit up.

"Who the hell are you?" Her voice was a terrified whisper. "Don’t touch me. Go away."

"I won’t do a thing to you," he said, edging slightly away, but still watching her with fascination. Her ripped T shirt had fallen away from her chest, and he could see one small breast almost completely exposed. The sight sent a ripple of desire through him, and, ashamed, he thrust it down.

"Who are you?" she asked again, drawing the ripped T shirt closed with a hand. He could smell the fear coming off her in waves, a sour metallic smell. "Leave me the fuck alone. Go away."

[ Continue to page 3 ]