Chapter 5
Sara turned the corner to the third floor landing and had already taken two steps when she saw the man standing in the corner. She immediately stopped where she was and reached for the walkie-talkie Grissom had given her. All she managed to get out was, "Gri--" before the madman had reached her, knocking the device from her hands. He slammed his considerable weight into her, knocking her into the wall. He slipped the machete out from beneath his sweatshirt. "You think you're a smart bitch, don't ya? I'll show you smart..."
---
Grissom's walkie-talkie crackled and a strained 'gri' was transmitted. Gil glanced down at it, then pulled it off his belt. "Sara? You okay?" No answer. "Damn." He started to stand, but Darien stopped him.
"I can check it out for ya... Stay here and uh... do what you're doing."
As Gil nodded and dropped back onto one knee, Darien nodded at Hobbes and slipped outside. The second he pulled the door open, he quicksilvered, hoping no one would notice.
No one did. At least, no one said anything. He headed for the elevators. He pressed the button, but something began to gnaw at him. It was a feeling he had once gotten when he was a cat burglar. The sixth sense that told him that someone was home; that someone was awake.
He looked at the door to the stairs and immediately left the bank of elevators. He opened the door quietly and stepped in. His vision was gray-tinted, as it always was when he was invisible. Quietly, he moved up the stairs towards the whispering above him.
---
Sara whimpered as the cool blade was pressed against the soft flesh of her throat. A tear streaked down her cheek.
Cross liked that. He smirked and said, "I made the pretty lady cry... I say you on the news, pretty lady. You were with that man, what's his name... Gilllll..." He stretched the name out until it became a groan. He pressed his overweight body against hers, reminding her that she was trapped.
He removed his sunglasses with his free hand, widening his eyes to show her how blood-red they were. "You see? I'm not like other people. There's no one on earth quite like me."
Sara tried not to show her fear; put on a strong face... but the red eyes almost forced her to scream. She squirmed against him, but he pressed the blade against her throat again. "I will slit your beautiful neck, you cop bitch... Try me. I bashed my wife's head in and I loved her... what will stop me from doing worse to you?"
Sara muttered a prayer and, miraculously, it immediately came through. AJ Cross' body was suddenly gone. When she opened her eyes, she saw him slam into the opposite wall, his eyes wide with shock. He opened his mouth to scream, but his head suddenly jerked to the right. Then the left. Then back into the wall, connecting with a hollow "THUNK!" Cross spit, swinging at his attacker. "The old man told me about you... said that all I had to do was kill you and this would be over..."
Sara frowned, thinking he was talking to her. She opened her mouth to respond, but was surprised when she heard a man's voice answer.
"Kill me, huh? Get in line." Cross was once again thrown back against the wall, blood streaming down his face. Gripping the machete tightly, he swung in a wide arch. Sara was surprised to see a line of blood appear in thin air.
Cross kicked at the line of blood and jogged up the stairs. He flung open the third floor door and ducked through. The walkie-talkie rose from it's position on the ground and the disembodied voice said, "Hobbes! The killer is on the third floor! Repeat, AJ Cross is IN THE BUILDING!"
Sara stuck a hand out, searching for her savior. "Fawkesy?"
Silver flaked in front of her and the government agent appeared. "How'd you know it was me," he asked, nursing the knife wound Cross had cut across his chest.
"The voice was a dead giveaway... Thank you."
"No problem... part of the job." He looked at his bloodied hand and said, "What I need now is some first aid."
Sara smiled weakly and said, "I'll take care of ya. Come on."
As she led him down the stairs, she shoved the fear and anger that had momentarily gripped every nerve in her terrified body deep inside of herself. She had gotten good at it...
---
Hobbes led Warrick into the lobby. Since the investigator didn't have a weapon, Hobbes was the only armed person there. He headed to a pit boss and said, "We're looking for a suspect in a double-murder. Around 5'7, thinning brown hair... may be wearing dark sunglasses."
Warrick frowned at the stairs and elevators. "God... I hope Sara's okay..."
Hobbes didn't answer, but felt the same way about Fawkes.
The elevator doors dinged and slid open. The car was empty. Hobbes ran over and positioned himself to the right of the door. Glancing inside, he said, "Step out, Cross... NOW!"
No response.
Warrick got on the left side, peering in as far as he could. He shook his head; nothing. Hobbes stepped into the car and looked around. Empty. Why would an empty car come to the lobby? Before he could think of the answer, the doors slid closed too fast for him to respond. He immediately pushed the button for the second floor and waited for the elevator to stop. He had been duped.
---
Warrick's head turned as the second elevator opened. He took one step towards the door... when Cross stepped out, swinging his machete. He caught Warrick's right arm, drawing blood. The killer adjusted his glasses and made a run for the door of the casino.
As Warrick screamed at security, some lucky bastard in the casino hit the jackpot. People began screaming, bells rang, chimes jingled, lights flashed. People from all over the casino began flocking towards the lucky machine. Security, lost in the confusion, held their guns and searched the crowd for their suspect. Nick Stokes stepped out of the bathroom where the investigation was underway and was slammed into by someone hoping to become friends with the newest millionaire in town.
Security reached Warrick and one of the officers knelt next to him. "Are you all right, sir?"
"No, I'm not," Warrick snapped. "The killer was HERE. He got past us..."
The elevator doors opened and Hobbes stepped out. He surveyed the scene and lowered his gun. He groaned, "Aw, crap."
---
Sara and Darien exited the stairwell to see the tail end of the confusion. Darien noticed her hand tensing on his. Looking at the small woman, seeing the fear on her face, he realized how much the altercation had frightened her.
He squeezed her hand and said, "Let's see what's going on." He led her across the lobby to where Hobbes and Warrick were talking to a security guard.
Hobbes was doing his best not to scream at the rent-a-cop. "We tell you we're on alert for a MURDERER and you run around like chickens with your heads cut off!"
The guard sighed. "Sir, we have responsibilities in the casino. If someone gets a jackpot, we have to be sure that no one will try to take the money or that there's no misunderstanding. A lot of people feel cheated if a machine they just left jackpots and that leads to altercations."
Warrick put a hand on Hobbes' shoulder. "We understand. Thank you, officer."
Hobbes sighed. "This sucks... we HAD him!" He caught sight of Darien. "Oh, my God. What happened?!"
"The guy swiped me... don't worry, I'll be okay."
Warrick was concerned for Sara. "How 'bout you?"
She nodded her head weakly. "I'll be fine." All three men noticed how she was hugging herself, her hand shaking violently.
Darien glanced at Hobbes, then said, "I'll, uh... I'll take you home to get some rest, okay?"
Warrick nodded. "Good idea. I'll tell Griss what happened; I'll cover the rest of your shift."
She squeezed Warrick's arm and thanked him as Darien led her out of the casino. She climbed into the passenger side of the van and waited patiently for Darien to walk around to the other side. Once he was seated and the van was started, she turned and said, "So? How'd you do it? How do you turn invisible?"
Darien sighed.
---
AJ Cross entered the restaurant, noticing that they served steak and eggs for only a buck ninety-nine. He sat at the pre-determined table and order the meal, asking for the steak to be as rare as possible. As his water arrived, so did the old man. The Apothecary sat across from Cross, resting his hands atop his cane. "You found the man."
"Yes," Cross muttered. "He got away though."
"This is not good. For as long as he thrives, you will suffer. Soon you will go beyond the point of help."
Cross' steak arrived, blood pooling around the plate. He surpassed the fork and knife and picked up the meat with his bare hands, biting savagely into it. After three large bites, half the steak was gone. Blood was oozing from the corner of his mouth and he licked the remaining juices from his fingers. Cross belched loudly and smiled. "I don't think that will be a problem. I'm starting to like the new me."
The Apothecary reached across the table and removed Cross' sunglasses.
His eyes were silver.
---
After stopping off at the hospital for a little first aid, Darien and Sara went back to her apartment. She unlocked the door, allowing Darien to enter. "I, uh... have some coffee. Orange juice, soda..."
Darien was about to decline, but saw the fear in her eyes. She didn't want to be alone. Not just yet. "Sure... I could go for a soda."
He entered the apartment and Sara told him to make himself at home, heading into the kitchen. Darien looked at the apartment, surprised at what he found. A police scanner sat on the coffee table, next to several books about real crimes. The bookshelf was stuffed with crime fiction; He noticed with a smile that she had a majority, if not all, of James Patterson's novels.
He took down her copy of "Pop Goes the Weasel," remembering reading it when the Keeper was testing his quicksilver madness levels.
Sara returned from the kitchen with a bottle of Dr. Pepper and Pepsi, holding them both up. "Which do you prefer?"
Darien grabbed the Pepsi. "Thanks..."
They sat on the sofa, idly discussing trivial things like movies, TV, music... Then they got around to quicksilver. Darien explained everything to her; Kevin, Arnaud, the Agency... he didn't mention the madness; he was afraid that she would link him with Cross and come to unsavory conclusions.
By the time they finished talking, it was nearly two a.m. Darien groaned and said, "I guess it's back to, uh... the old hotel, huh?"
Sara looked at her watch. "Look, um... it's not the most comfortable place in the world, but if you wanted to, the couch is free tonight."
Darien tested the softness of the cushions and shrugged. "I've slept on worse," he stated, thinking of the awful cots they had in prison. Sara stood and pecked him on the cheek. "Thanks, Darien... for..."
He smiled and said, "No problem, Sara."
She smiled and headed to the bedroom.
It was just before three-thirty that Darien was shaken from his slumber by loud, piercing screams coming from Sara's bedroom.