Now is the time to return some reviews. 'looks around empty room' 'coughs politely' 'shrugs' Now is the time to write chapter 3.

Chapter 3

Iron Clad Shores

Will turned slowly around hoping in vain that the man behind him wasn't wearing a trench coat. As Will turned around, the man flipped open a leather case holding some kind of gold-like badge, but flipped it close again before Will could read it.
The trench coat man was at least six feet tall, and his face was almost completely concealed between the trench coat's collar, and a wide brimmed hat whose shadow covered everything that the collar did not. Will could not see the man's eyes, but could see far enough into the shadow to tell that the man had a clean shaven face. Will could also see that pointed to his chest, but still inside the folds of his coat was a short revolver, concealed from both sides. The man was armed and Will had a sickening feeling that the man knew who he was.
Mary gasped and took a step away from the man.
The man's right hand holding the revolver steady, he used his left hand to pull out a small piece of paper, the side facing Will was a glossy white. Will cursed; he could discern the initials of his old school on the back and knew that it was a photo.
The man looked from the piece of paper to Will, then back again. Then, about to put the photo away, he looked between the two one more time before giving a satisfying, empty laugh.
"Will Parry, you put us on some chase there, and I'd like to know how you did it, but for that we have no time." The man gestured with his gun to the door at the far side of the bar, where a neon sign hung backwards over the doorway. "I don't like shooting people, but if they," the man studied Will as if trying to calculate how fast he could run, "decide to try and run I'd be forced to take action, wouldn't I?"
The bar's owner caught sight of the man's gun. "Ey, ey, whatchu doin' waving dat gun around?"
The trench coat man turned around in annoyance, "This boy is wanted for murder. And my superiors have granted me the right to use however much force is needed. You shouldn't interfere."
Will wanted to call out to the bar's owner how it came to be that he committed murder, the bar tender had seemed so friendly, but the menacing black hole of the revolver pointed to his heart told him, for some reason that Will could not explain, that he would live a lot longer if he didn't.
The bar keeper stared, his mouth slightly agape at Will, and the trench coat man turned back to look at Will and the two women. It was now that the man first took noticed of Mary and Elizabeth. And with his left hand flipped out another picture, and this time kept switching his gaze between Mary and the picture. Will wondered how many pictures the man had in his pockets.
"Haha, it seems to be my lucky day, Dr. Malone, you are also under arrest." His laugh was empty and Will did not hear the sound of laughter but of the cruel sound of someone who was just getting paid. As the bartender's mouth fell open slightly more, the man explained, "She busted up a room of lab equipment."
The bartender who had been friendly, than astonished, now looked at Will sadly muttering something about what this world was coming too, and then continued serving up drinks to the customers who hadn't committed murder. The others' attentions didn't follow the trench coat man, but stayed on their drinks.
The trench coat man turned to Elizabeth, "What about you? What's your name?"
"Li- err Elizabeth Burton..." Elizabeth stammered and spoke with much hesitation, thinking back trying to look through her memories for any felony.
"Mmm... better come anyway Miss. Burton, being in the company of two criminals is rather suspicious. You'll need to be questioned." The man, for once, seemed to be friendly, but Elizabeth knew better than to think that of someone who was threatening to shoot them all up if they tried to get away.
The man gestured once again to the doorway, and walking behind Will with the gun still out they made their way to the streets of Oxford. Will's daemon had settled down on the dirty sidewalk and looked up in surprise. Will could see its agitation at the sight of the gun.
'Kirjava, I think he's with the police, this looks bad.' Will thought to the daemon. Kirjava arched her back and looked ready to break the ancient taboo and rip at the man's right hand 'No, he'll shoot.'
Kirjava's back straightened slightly but she still looked tense. 'Do you think you can get out of it?' Will knew that Kirjava knew the answer already and answered honestly, 'No'. But Will himself hadn't braced himself for the truth, they didn't let murderers off easy in Oxford. And he hung his head in despair. Losing Lyra was bad enough, losing years of his life in jail took him even farther into the sea of despair. And then realization struck him like a shot from the magnum pointing at his back. He would lose so many midsummer days. And with that thought, he drowned in the unrelenting waves of despair. His only connection with Lyra had been cut down.
Will began to walk up to the car that the trench coat man was pointing to, it was a beaten up sedan, the original red paint had chipped off, and rust was showing where it had. The man was saying something, but Will could not hear under the sound of the waves of sorrow that crashed onto the iron clad shoreline of his heart. The iron used to hold fast, but now it had begun to wear away, revealing the tenderness within. Will's heart had once been iron all through, except for the center, which had been his love for his mother, but Lyra had loved him so much, Will could not hide it deep within the solid iron, and felt that it had to show. But now Will almost wished that it was hidden away, so that he could be the same steadfast Will as he had been before, he felt he could've withstood the police, and gotten away from everyone who would harm him, he could get away from it all, go somewhere far off, to be alone. He didn't want to be alone, he wanted to be with Lyra, of course. But happiness seemed to be restricted from him. And if he could be alone he felt he could deal with all the unhappiness in his life.
Will hadn't noticed in his sorrow, but the car had been driving for almost an hour and was just now pulling up to an old house. Will realized that houses this old wouldn't have had electricity, and expected the light inside to be from numerous candles.
The trench coat man got out of the rusting and slammed the door so hard that several flakes of the ancient paint fell off. He then took out his revolver and had it pointed through the window at Will. The man hadn't said anything but Will expected that he should get out. He opened his door and moved aside to let Mary and Elizabeth out.
"Into the house." The man's voice wasn't much more than a grunt. He waited for the three to walk past him and he then pointed the pistol again at Will's back.
Will walked up to the door and stood there. The trench coat man walked with long strides up to the door and gave a rhythm of short knocks. There was a sound of falling wood on wood from inside the house and the door opened a small amount to allow a man from the inside to stick an eye out the crack.
Will, Mary, and Elizabeth all wondered why a police man would have to hide out at an old house, and none of them could think of a good reason. The man watching them through the crack took a step back and there was a small metallic flipping sound before the door opened far enough to let everyone by. The door closed with a loud thump which made Will turn around. The doors interior was plated with metal, and on the opening edge were three locks, each one, Will expected, opened the door a small bit farther.
The house itself was barely furnished, not that Will expected it to be, the walls were wooden, and the only furniture was a table missing the bottom of one of its four legs, being held up by an old tome, and two chairs set on either side. One of which was on the ground. The table held a large bottle of whiskey, half empty, and a deck of cards. For all it was worth, it looked like a criminal hideaway in one of those old movies.
"You don't know who we are, do ya?" The trench coat man spoke as if it were an obvious thing.
"No." Will responded, wondering if the man wasn't just a police man.
The trench coat man removed his wide brimmed hat, revealing the unfortunately familiar face of the blond man from Will's house, so long ago. The sorrow of spending time in jail was gone. The fear of being killed had come.