Fiona was grateful she had not worn a corset that day. She was also grateful for her sensible shoes. Since she had started running she had not dared to stop. Unfortunately, the odds were that she would run into the third of her captors, Five Points was both smaller and larger than it seemed. She had no more knowledge of where he'd gone than he had of the fact that she'd killed the two others and took flight.
Her side hurt, hurt as if someone had jabbed a knife into her. She had to rest, she couldn't keep going the way she was. She'd duck into the first alley she came across, she had to. It was getting too painful to breathe now. She couldn't afford to collapse. She'd rest, for just a minute, just long enough for the pain to ease a little. And she had to figure out where she was.
She took a deep breath and pushed herself harder than she'd imagined she could. And by some stroke of luck, up ahead, were two tenements with a narrow space between. She looked down at her hand and realized she still held the gun. Funny, she'd forgotten about that. Hopefully there was no one in the alley, because while she could conceal her boot knife, there was no way to conceal the pistol she held in her shaking hand. "Mary, Mother of God," she prayed, "I know we're not on the best of terms, but could you help me out right now? Let me find a hiding place for a moment, please?" Or, better still, let Kevin find me while I'm still alive.
She ducked into the alley as quickly as she had in the days when she had been tormenting Kevin. A prostitute and her john were there and fled at the sight of the gun in her hand. Just as well, she thought, I need this place worse than they do.
There was no place to sit, no place to sink down on her haunches to give her aching legs a rest. The familiar smell of urine, feces, and garbage permeated the alley, but it was a welcome refuge none the less. She retreated deeper into the alleyway so that she could keep a watch at either end. And when she decided to resume her flight, she would now have a choice.
Seeing the whore and her john was a good omen, she decided. She must be closer to downtown than she thought. Eva's might be close, or even the Precinct House. Hell, she'd settle for going to the Tombs right now, they'd keep an eye on her until her father or Kevin could be found.
She wanted Kevin now, in a way she had not managed possible before. There was something about him that made her feel, well, safe. She might be Daddy's little girl, but with Kevin she felt protected and cherished in a way that was unfamiliar. She had put so much energy into going to school had left little time for anything else. There had been light flirtations at school functions and parties, but her mind had been fixed on her goal. Now there was someone who was showing her that there was more than that to life, and for the first time she had been willing to let go.
The stabbing in her side had subsided a little. It was still painful to breathe but she had to start running again. She looked up and down the alley, debating. She decided to exit the other end of the alley when she saw her former captor standing there. Did he see her? She didn't know, but all that was left to her was to turn and began to run again.
It was harder this time. Her rest had helped, but she felt the strain of having run so far and so fast. To make it worse, she could hear the sounds of his footsteps running after her. She forced herself to breathe deeply, and find some place within herself where she could find the strength to keep running—and stay on her feet.
By some miracle she began to recognize where she was. If she had gone down the other end of the alley she would have found herself heading towards the other end of Five Points. There were bawdy houses she used to pass by where the girls would stand in the windows and blow kisses, seeing the illusion of a handsome young man. There were the gambling parlors on the fringes of the Red Light district that she would frequent when she'd won too much at Eva's and had been accused of cheating. And somewhere not too far away, but farther than she wished, was the precinct house of the Sixth District.
A pretty dark haired woman was walking down the street, unaware that she was on a collision course with someone who was running for their very life. Fiona reached out and grabbed her by the waist, tossing her aside. "I did that for your own good," she muttered to herself, "but I'll have to apologize when I see you." She glanced back and saw that her pursuer was still determined, and wondered if she could get into a bawdy house or gambling parlor quickly enough to lose him. If he followed her in, she could still find herself on the wrong end of a bullet, and no time to fire the gun she held so desperately. No, best to keep running, even if she ran herself to death.
Corcoran felt himself at a loss, something he did not like. He did not know where to begin to look for her. He could start where Matthew lived, but with so many houses and tenements crowded together in Five Points, he could lose valuable time trying to find her. And he had to find her. What he needed was a lucky break—how many crimes were solved just that way? It didn't matter how much skill or experience you had, if you didn't have the luck, your case could go unsolved forever.
He, Francis, and Andrew decided to head up the street towards Matthew's-that was where Corcoran had seen her last. From there they would have to place their faith in the myth of "the luck of the Irish". Someone must have snatched her not far from Matthew's, but far enough away for him to have not to have seen her. It was strange, he mused, how quickly someone could disappear. One minute they were there, the next they were gone.
"You've got to go downtown, Kevin, now!"
"Huh?" He believed in solid material things, but just now he had hear her voice. He stopped, and the others looked at him.
"She's downtown somewhere. We've got to go downtown." He turned around and headed back in the direction they had come.
"Corky," said Andrew, you told us you last saw her at Matthews, why are we headed back downtown?"
"She told me. I heard her voice just now. I swear I heard her voice speaking in my head. Jesus, I must be mad, but she was telling me plain as day to look for her downtown." He took off and began to run.
Maguire and O'Brien looked at each other. This was not the Kevin they knew. Corcoran did not hear voices, or if he did, he would not go chasing after them. O'Brien was skeptical, but Maguire believed in the old ways and superstitions. He was willing to believe that if Corky said he had heard Fiona's voice, that was what happened. He turned around and began to follow Kevin. O'Brien gave up and joined the chase.
"Oh Corky," Fiona thought, "Find me, please find me. If you don't I'm going to have to trust on my luck and hope I have the chance to shoot this bastard. I can't run anymore, and I don't know if he'll get me before I get him."
She ducked into yet another alleyway and cocked the pistol. Her best chance was to try to shoot him as he ran by—if he didn't see her first that is. Suddenly she saw a man dressed in rags, smelling as if he had never had a bath in his life, holding a shiny knife. She ran from the alley, holding the pistol close to her to keep it from firing. Bad luck to worse, this is what that was. Bad luck to worse.
Finally her legs buckled and gave out underneath her. "Please God," she prayed and held her pistol at the ready.
By some chance, or by the grace of God, or the old gods as Fiona claimed to believe in, the three men saw a woman running at breakneck speed down the street, a man in hot pursuit.
"Fiona!" said Corky, and took off after him, his mates following at his heels.
"We've got to catch her, Corky," said Maguire, not knowing whether he heard him or not. He had heard stories from Corcoran about how Fiona had easily outrun him, and knew he was a skeptic no longer. If this girl could keep running like she was, maybe she could save herself, if they could catch the blackguard running after her, That girl had guts, there was no doubting it, but a girl who could run like that would be hard as hell to catch.
"Liam Galway, it's Liam Galway of the Bowery Boys." Andrew was breathing hard as they ran. "I wonder what he's doing here, this ain't Bowery Boy turf. C'mon Francis, if Corky can't catch him, we have to!"
But Corcoran had found something inside him, something that seemed to give wings to his feet. "Liam, Liam Galway!" he shouted, hoping he could get him to stop, or at the very least pause. All he got, however, was a brief turn of his head, not losing a beat as he ran, determined to catch the woman running from him.
Corcoran watched in horror as he saw Fiona stumble and fall. He saw the pistol in her hand, but Galway had stopped, pausing just a moment to gloat. Corcoran took the opportunity to fire a bullet into his head.
Fiona heard a gun go off, a gun she recognized, that he had let her fire before when he did not believe that she could shoot. She looked around and saw the body of the Bowery Boy lying on the ground. Suddenly everything went black as shock and exhaustion overtook her.
Corcoran ran to her as she lay sprawled on the cobblestones, and picked her up, holding her close. He started slapping her cheeks to bring her around, then breathed a sigh of relief when she opened her eyes. He could see the tears on her face, and he kissed her wet cheeks, the top of her head, and then her mouth. "Shh, Shh, Fiona, don't cry. It's all over now, that's my brave girl, don't cry, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Don't cry, sweet girl, don't cry."
He held her while her shoulders shook, holding him tightly as if afraid that the nightmare wasn't over. Finally her sobbing subsided and she rested in his arms, afraid to let him go.
At last she pulled away from him. "Kevin, I killed two men. I killed them. I took their lives, it's my fault that they're dead. How can I live with myself?"
He'd been afraid of this, but had known it was coming and what he needed to say. "Fiona, I know what you're feeling. I've been to war and though it's a soldier's job to kill, I felt the way you're feeling now the first time I killed someone. Believe me, I understand."
"But this is different, darlin'. These men were going to kill you. Sure, they might have collected ransom from your father, but they couldn't take a chance on your recognizing them, they were going to kill you. And I would rather have you alive than them."
"You're the bravest girl that I know. You took action, most women I know and some men could not have done that. You had your knife and you weren't afraid to use it. That takes a lot of courage. You knew better than to wait for someone to rescue you, no one would probably have found you in time. You killed two very evil men, and I killed the third one. I don't know what the Plug Uglies and a Bowery Boy were doing working together, but they were up to no good whatever it was."
"You did exactly what you needed to do. You are the bravest girl that I know. I couldn't be more proud of you, Fiona. It's going to take some time, but one day this won't hurt anymore. If nothing else, this teaches you the value of a human life. Those plug uglies don't, they were going to kill you without giving it a second thought. But you fooled them, you killed them first."
"But now I'm a killer, no better than they were."
"No, Fiona," he shook her shoulders, "Listen to me. You were being held against your will. They snatched you off the street. These are men who could have been using you to get to me, or to you father. You knew you had to escape, you and weren't afraid to do what you had to do. Self-defense is never murder, never. This isn't what I wanted for you, but I'm glad to have you alive. See that man lying there? He had a gun, he was going to kill you. Do you think I have regrets about shooting him? The only regret I have is that I don't know what he wanted, but that's all."
She rested her head on his shoulder. "I don't want to go home right now, Kevin, I'm so tired, but I can't face Ma and Pa just now. Take me with you and deal with your paperwork tomorrow. I need to be with you right now."
He scooped her up like she was a child and carried her to the waiting police wagon. "Take us home, Maguire, I want to keep an eye on her."
"Aye, Corky, she's no looking too good. She needs a stiff drink and a good night's rest with her man. Tomorrow morning she'll be better." He slapped the reins of the horse and took him at a faster trot than he should have, eager to get Fiona and Corcoran home. Let the lovers have a night to themselves, he figured. They were as good as married as far as he was concerned and tonight they needed to be with each other. Tomorrow would take care of itself.