Chapter three

David I was wearing a black sweater and a pair of faded blue jeans with shades covering my eyes of hazel. Three times I knocked on the wooden door. After that gesture, I raised my hand, still in a fist, and blew dust off into light gray clouds that were visible only in the dim lighting of the hall. My throat was tickled by the tiny particles and I stifled a cough. My throat cleared, I attempted to open the door. It wouldn't budge, so I backed a step and kicked it three times to send it off the hinges.
After entering the room, I squatted to lift up one end of the door, finding that all the deadbolts had been locked, making it difficult to force the door open. Then I dropped it and stood to look around. It had changed only a little since I'd last seen the place. Instead of the usual inch of dust that matted the floor, only a half inch blanketed it that day. 'Must have bee cleaned last year.' I thought sarcastically. I still didn't know why it was not better kept up. The place was old and fairly empty, like my own apartment just across the hall. One window let in light on the far side of the room, providing the only luminosity in the flat.
It was near impossible to see, regardless of the uncovered window, since it was eight in the evening. I had trouble seeing my own two hands, let alone my feet. Clumsily and inadvertently, I stumbled over a coffee table and fell, cutting my ankle on its glass tabletop as it shattered in the process.
Anya came into the room slowly, being careful in case of a burglar. She wore her usual attire, consisting of black pants, black top, black everything, all topped off with a trench coat, which only she and I understood to hide her four CIMPOs, all holstered to her waist and legs.
As I sat up, I discovered myself faced with two of the four. "Hi."
"Jesus! What the hell are you doin' here, busting down my door, breaking my table? I swear, that door cost me two hundred bucks." She was just a little pissed. That, however, was not my problem. I had a proposition for her.
I grimaced while standing, finding shards of glass stuck in my femur.

Anya's face altered from anger to concern. "You all right?"
"Yeah, perfect. What do ya think Anya? I have two." I counted. "three pieces of glass in my leg."
"Let's get you to a hospital." She began to help me up, gently placing her arms around me to help me up from the ground. Upon getting me to my feet, her right arm moved under my left and wrapped around to my opposite shoulder, steadying me, and keeping me off the foiled, dusty ground.
My hand reached out to stop her movements. "No!" I forced a grin onto my lips painfully. "It is not very bad. You take the shards out for me. I'll manage."
"David."
I cut her off abruptly. "Yes! David, exactly. That's my name for the time being and I'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much!"
"What are you talking about?"
"If we go to the hospital, they'd take a blood sample to see if the wound had been infected by anything. From the sample, they'd get my name: Dale.not David. There'd be a record of my name, injury, age, everything. Going to the hospital is number one on the list of worse things to do for me. I'm wanted by the police, Anya.for more charges than one."
"All right.Here, sit down." I was led to what I assume was a couch. "More charges than one?" She added after a moment of thought. I dismissed the implement with a frown. Signaling her that it was not the time or place to discuss such a thing.
Anya left my side for a short time to turn on a light. I was almost blinded by the difference it made. When I got a look at the wound, I wished she'd left the lights out. Blood streamed lightly all the way from the cuts down, which was about a foot.
Returning with a bowl of cold water and some towels, Anya sat at my side. She wasn't squeamish-she never had been. And I suspect it will always be that way for her; she simply eased the sharp pieces of her tabletop from my injured leg. I clenched my teeth, not caring to show how much it really pained me.
When that was over with, my leg was cleansed of blood, and any specks of glass that could possibly remain. Anya then wrapped my leg up in some bandages, after smoothing an antibiotic of sorts over the wounds.
"Perhaps you should stay here a while.you know, until you can walk." Anya suggested.
I glanced up at her, but the lights had been turned out again, so I found this slightly complicated. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Would I have offered if I did?" She feigned a laugh. "Why should I mind? It's just you, right?"
"Yeah, it is just me."
"David, why did you come here anyway?"
My mind searched for an answer. All things being the same, the believable answer is more likely the right one. "To see you." Hesitation brings the most deafening silence. When again I spoke, it was to ask "Why the hell don't you answer your door?" That brought laughter to us both, and the situation brightened.

* * *

Calico Nicole went out for a while; she found it uneasy to sleep. In the night, she found herself feeling even more alone than at any other time, any other place.
With her cell phone, she dialed David's number. Letting it ring once, twice, thrice, four and five times, Nicole became impatient and dropped the phone.
As she bent to lift it from the ground, a sound startled her. A woman walked out from the shadows, robed in black completely. Oddly, she looked familiar. Probably because the two had met at the museum-or at least seen each other. You see, that's because the woman was me.
She heard two crashes like thunder and looked up to search for any sign of rain. Something terrible pierced her skin that moment, and drew not only pain, but fear into her like she were a child having blood drawn for the first time. But this was worse. The pain seemed so unbearably that the world spun about her swiftly. Faster and faster it spun.until the time when she blacked out, too soon to feel herself collapse to the ground.

* * *

"Nicole? Nikki?" Her name whispered over and over in a horrible dream, a nightmare that'd waken her. Nicole dared to open her eyes.
Alex stood above her, leaning toward her, with one hand on her forehead. He looked concerned. Looking past him, she saw the white of their bedroom ceiling and blaring light taunting her from her husband's back. So it had been a dream.
"Mrs. Velmen? Can you hear me?" A pause broke the person's speech ever so briefly and a deep breath was taken before it continued to explain. "You were shot twice, ma'am, but you should be out of here in a few days since neither bullet pierced a vital organ, and luckily you were found in good time, so not too much blood was lost. However, your husband has donated some of his blood in case the occasion arose when you might need it."
Or not.
The doctor left Nicole and Alex alone.
"What happened, honey? Who did this?" She was speechless. "Did you see who did this?" His voice was so urgent; Nicole wanted to help her husband.
"It was the lady from the party." Her voice was weak. "All black."
"Nicole? Nicole!"