Pheonix! Who doesn't love little Silas's and Rachel's running around?

Chapter 18 – It's Easier to Run

Rachel tried to sit up, but found it useless. Her throat and eyes still burned, and all she remembered was an angel. An angel who saved her. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what happened.

"You little whore! Cheating cunt! I will fucking kill you!"

Please God, make the pain go away.

Slash. Slash. Slash.

I'm so cold.

Kevin stripped her naked and took a good look at her body. It was soft and nubile, just as he remembered. He took the knife, reconsidered, and began beating her. Her peachy skin was soon black and purple. Next, he took the knife and slashed in random spots. Slashing, not stabbing. He didn't want her to bleed to death. He began running the bath water, but made sure it was cold. That way, the body would be preserved a little when they found her, if they ever did. Once it was halfway full, he lifted her in, and watched her wriggle and twist.

He hit her.

"Struggling only makes it worse, I'm afraid." Kevin stood and watched as the clothesline he used cut her wrists, and filled the water with more blood. The water was pink with blood, Kevin noticed, and wondered if it would be purple when her body was just floating in there.

Rachel turned her head sideways and tried to breathe in air. She tried to cough, but that only made matters worse. She used as much of her strength to turn her body halfway and stopped. Opening her mouth to cry for help would fruitless, she realized. Kevin left the water running.

I don't want to die! Help me Silas!

Strong arms were carrying Rachel's body to her bedroom. She lifted her head and saw the pale white skin of Silas's arms. And a pink Polo. She wanted to laugh, but instead sighed. "S-S-Silas..." Her voice drifted off. Silas looked at her as he placed her on the bed. "Hush, do not waste your breath." Obeying, Rachel relaxed her muscles. She could feel Silas's hands brushing away her hair, as they had done time and time again. It was a comfort to have him touching her so gently. Then came the pain. There was the smell of alcohol, and Rachel yelped. "Wh-what are you doing?" she asked in bewilderment. "Sshh. I'm cleaning your cuts." Rachel jumped again as another swipe across her skin caused a familiar pain.

Once finished, Silas left her to dress. Five minutes later, he found little progress had been made. Rachel was sitting up right, but her underwear was half on, and her shirt and pants lay on the bed. She seemed to be staring off into space. "Rachel, are you okay?" Rachel fell backwards and Silas ran to catch her. He sighed and let her lay asleep as he dressed her. A scary thought flashed into his mind.

What if I got her pregnant?

He thought about having children running around with skin like a ghost and being made fun of in school. He didn't want to make his children's life hell. He didn't want anyone's life to be hell. Bishop Aringarosa had told him he had skin of an angel, and would do God's work. Silas felt a sudden pang of regret and sorrow for the man who had given him so much. And he had turned his back and ran like the teenager he was being accused of being.

Once he had Rachel's shirt on properly, he gently shook her. "Rachel, you need to wake up. We are leaving." Rachel's eyes opened and she tried to sit up. "Where are we going?" Silas put a finger to her lips. "Somewhere where we will be safe." Rachel was fully alert now. They were running? But they didn't even do anything wrong! "Silas, we can't leave. What about Opus Dei?" Silas seemed to snap back to his colder, darker self at the mention of Opus Dei's name. "They have turned their backs on us for now. We are runners." Rachel stood and wrapped her arms around herself. Staring into Silas's eyes made her feel safe, but worried. "I don't want to run. I've been running my whole life. Can't we stay here and be happy?" She wrapped his hands underneath hers and gave a weak smile. Silas stood and pulled himself to his full height. "Rachel, pack your bags. We are leaving." Rachel placed her hands on her hips and stared Silas in the eye. "I'm not going anywhere! You can't make me!" Silas grabbed her by the shoulders and brought her close to his face. "Rachel! Now is not the time to be stubborn! Opus Dei's name has been scorned by me, and I am in even more trouble than just that. Please, just do as I say. You know I do not want to hurt you." Rachel sighed and grabbed her backpack. "If it weren't for the fact that you were so goddamn sexy, I might've slapped you." Silas grinned and said, "You know what would have happened if you did that."

Andrew added another strand of platinum white hair to his small baggie. He found a couple of these from the doorway to where the victim lay. Either this guy had a dog, or someone was losing their hair like crazy. He chose the latter and closed the bag. "Okay, Chiefy, I'm done doing your tedious work. May I go now?" His older partner, Stephen, looked up and shook his head. "No, now you have to take it to forensics, you twit." Andrew rolled his eyes and murmured, "We are forensics." His partner was unmoved. "Well, you know exactly where to go then, don't you?" He offered a cold smile, and Andrew sighed and walked out.

He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. Upon releasing, he had a flood of thoughts pass through as per usual when he had a moment to think. "It's elementary, my dear Watson. We're dealing with someone with Albinism." Andrew turned around and saw Stephen holding out a report. Andrew took it and began reading. Stephen took the smoke away from him and put it in his own mouth. "Hey! I was using that!" Stephen shrugged and muttered, "Well, now I'm using it. Read." Andrew took a few random glances at the papers, and then looked at his partner. "We're dealing with an albino? Why don't we just call around to places and ask if they've got an albino lying around somewhere?" Stephen smacked him in the neck and said, "Because, idiot, that's not how you do it. Frankly, this guy, Kevin, had a girlfriend. From what they read in his diary, he was an alcoholic, was dating a prostitute until she went to jail. Then, she started seeing our ghosty friend who, maybe we should call an angel because he was a monk. I'm not sure, but I think being chaste and not killing are some of the principles of being an Opus Dei monk."

Andrew snickered. "Okay, so we're looking for an albino at Opus Dei? In, out, no press." Stephen nodded and extinguished the cigarette. "It probably is that easy, but, let's pray it actually is."

Silas couldn't stand the strong smell of potpourri under his nose. He and Rachel were at Marcy's apartment, and she was a Martha Stewart wannabe. "It's so nice to meet you Silas. Just, not under these circumstances." Silas wished he could throw Marcy off her balcony, along with her rancid potpourri, but restrained the thought and incentive. "Likewise. I too wish the circumstances were different, but we have no control over our lives." Rachel sat next to Silas, grasping his hand in hers. She desperately hoped Marcy would come to love Silas and shelter them for a while. Her sores were starting to get to her, and she wanted to lie down. "You know where your room in my home is Rae. In fact, I'll come with you, just to make sure everything's okay."

Rachel plopped herself down on the bed, and Marcy quickly locked the door behind her. "Rachel Irwin Crowe, what in the hell has gotten into you?"

Rachel stared at her, lost. "What do you mean?"

"Rachel! Bruises, cuts, and now you're running away? Is this your idea of a prank? Is Ashton Kutcher here with a camera crew? He better be."

"Marcy! You know good and well Silas did not give me these injuries."

"No, I don't. He's hit you before, remember?"

"That was once! Well, twice. Not the point. Kevin did this to me. The man, who loved me, tied me up, stripped me, beat me, cut me, and left me for dead in a bathtub full of running water. The same man who has now been crucified."

Marcy stared in disbelief and confusion. "Crucified?"

"Crucified. How was Jesus crucified? Okay then." Marcy sat down beside her. "You mean, Silas, that gentleman, killed Kevin?" Rachel bit her lip and nodded. "He wanted to avenge me, in case I died. He's really sweet, he is, but..." Marcy finished her thought. "He's demented. He's like Norman Bates." Marcy opened her mouth to say more, but thought wiser of it. "You know Rachel, I have half a mind to turn you in. Mainly so I don't get my own ass in trouble for harboring a criminal, but I'll let you decide." She stood and left Rachel on her bad. She fell back winced, and rolled over, wincing again. She hurt all over, and to make matters worse, her best friend was making her choose between love and life.

Silas walked in to Rachel's room. It was lavender, and smelled like, what Silas guessed, was lavender. "Rachel." Rachel's eyes fluttered open and looked up at Silas. He smiled warmly and whispered, "I am sorry I got you into this." Rachel brought his face close to hers and kissed him. "No, I like the adventure. Running from the man, sleeping where we can, I'm all for it!" Silas chuckled and kissed her. He let his body fall next to hers, and she twisted around to face him. He could see her trying to hide her discomfort, but it was obvious. "It still hurts?" Rachel nodded. "Not so much now, especially since you're here, my angel." Silas hadn't heard someone call him that since he was young, and that person was dead. "Rachel, maybe I should just leave you here. After all, I am wanted for murder. I do not want you to get involved." She kissed him for a while, and then said, "I would never leave you, never." Silas could feel himself wanting her more and more. He then remembered she was hurting already, and they were in someone else's home, and re thought it.

"Rachel, I love you." He couldn't help it. He watched as Rachel burst into tears. "No! I am sorry! No, I mean—" Rachel's crying slowly became laughing as she swung one leg over Silas's hip. "It's okay! I love you too." She began kissing him and pulling his shirt off him.

Stephen was nursing a beer in front of his television when he got a call.

"Hello?"

"Stephen, this is Andrew"

"Andy, what did I tell you? Drop it like it's hot and go find yourself a woman to screw."

"Stephen, now is not the time to be funny. I'm serious as hell here. We've got a lead."

Stephen sat up, turned his TV off, and sat his beer down. "What the hell? And they didn't call me?"

Andrew snickered. "Well, no. You unplugged all your phones so you wouldn't be disturbed if you were having sex."

"Then how the hell did you call me?""I called your cell phone, dumbass. Get to the precinct now." Andrew hung up the phone and Stephen considered finishing his beer, breaking it, and walking down to the precinct with a weapon to beat Andrew's ass.

"Okay hotshot. First you insult me, then you act like you're in charge; you better have a good reason for pulling me away from TV." Stephen gave Andrew a contemptuous look before looking at the woman. She had chestnut brown hair, was fairly stout and short, with glasses. "Listen, she just fessed up to the murderer being at her house. His name is Silas and he works ate Opus Dei, but here's the big whopper; he's with a woman. Kevin's ex." Stephen slumped into the chair next to him and ran his hands through his hair. "Are you shitting me? You are not telling me this is going to be the easiest case ever made, are you?" Andrew handed him a cup of coffee and shook his head. "I'm not, but I'm hoping. I'm praying practically. I mean, the guy is a monk, we should be at least praying."

Rachel kissed Silas on the mouth gently before leaving bed. She heard Marcy leave earlier, but wasn't sure if she had heard her and Silas. Grabbing her shirt and Silas's boxers, for she was too lazy to grab her own pants, she peeked into the hallway. "Marcy?" Stepping out, she saw no one was home. It was dark, and she wondered how long she had been asleep. Looking at the clock on the wall told her it was eight P.M. "What is the matter?" Rachel whipped her head around to see Silas standing behind her. "I was just wondering if Marcy were here. She's not." Silas noticed she looked crestfallen. He picked her chin up and kissed her. "She is the least of our worries right now. May I have my underwear back, please?" Rachel blushed and pulled them off right away. "I'm sorry, I just needed something, you know?" Silas shook his head. Rachel sighed and slipped into his arms. They stood there for a few minutes, just holding each other and listening to each others breathing. Finally, Silas pulled away and went to the bathroom. Looking out the window, everything seemed perfectly normal. There were some kids sitting on stoops, and a few cars passed by, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Except for those two cop cars sitting across the street.

Silas met their stare with a hard, cold one and ran back to his and Rachel's room.

"Rachel! I knew we could not trust her. She called the police." Rachel perked up. She was putting her clothes back on, but now she ran to the bathroom window and looked out. Two police cars, just as Silas said. "No, she wouldn't. Someone must have tipped them off, but not Marcy. She's my best friend!" Silas grabbed her by the shoulders. Rachel could see a new look in his eyes, like those of a frightened child. "We must go! Now! I will not go back to prison, by any means!" Rachel was becoming more scared by the second. When she heard car doors close, she began running around the room, trying to get her stuff back together as quick as possible. Silas had not unpacked, for he had predicted such would happen, and was helping her pack. The next most frightening thing occurred – there was a knocking at the front door followed by, "Open up, police!"

Tania Nunez lit a cigarette and slumped over against the wall in a back alley. She was more tired than usual from roaming the streets, stealing. She still felt her heart yearning to return home, back to Puerto Rico where her family was. Only, the difference was not much between her hometown and New York. She was still poor, hungry, and tired, but now she had to speak English only.

"Tania, please don't go!" Her little brother Matt cried. "What about school, mama, and Nicolas?" Tania tried not to cry as hr four-year-old brother clung to her legs, trying to restrain her from leaving. "Mattie, when I comeback, I'll be in a big, rich people car, and I'll move you and mama somewhere nice, like San Diego. Would you like that? Would you like to go to San Diego? You could go to Sea World. We could go to Disney Land! But I have to go to new York if I want to get to San Diego." Her brother was not stupid. He knew San Diego and New York were far from each other. "Why don't you go to San Diego first, then?" Tania ruffled his hair. "Because I have to get a start in New York. You don't just go to Hollywood and expect to get a job. You have to train first. Some of the best acting schools are in New York, and soon, I'll be rich and famous." Matt rubbed his eyes and sniffled. "You better come back!" Tania smiled and kissed him on the forehead. "I promise."

Tania now wished she hadn't promised. She knew what it took to get all the way up here, and she wasn't too proud about it either. Having to beg for passage on a ship, with a fat smelly guy laying on top of you wasn't exactly fun. She sold her body so much, she wasn't sure if she was truly free anymore. Free from sexual slavery. It seemed everywhere she turned, a man was asking her for head, and only when she desperately was in need of money, or the man was attractive, would she oblige, only to spend it all, or lose it all. Now, she had enough money to last for a while, but she would need a little bit left over, just incase. She took one last drag, stomped it out, and walked over to her homely box house that looked like something a child would make for a clubhouse. Home sweet home, my ass.

Andrew waited for a few moments before walking in. He didn't know what to expect. A baseball bat from behind, a fire extinguisher in the nuts. He wasn't really daring. Stephen walked in, and re coned the area. When everything seemed clear, he motioned for Andrew to come in, and began walking towards the bedrooms. Marcy was standing in the kitchenette, her head in the sink. He perfectly understood. She was turning in her best friend and her murderous, albino, monk boyfriend against their wishes. But it's the right thing.

He pushed open the first door and found an empty guest room. The bed was unmade, and instantly, he knew he found they were in there. Before he could turn around, a heavy force came crashing down on him. He hit the metal wastebasket next to the door, and could feel his blood dripping down his cheek. His head was throbbing, and he was dazed, too confused to get up. When he tried to move, a sense of nausea swept over him. Where is Andrew?

Andrew heard the noise, but didn't see the figure. In fact, he thought he was looking at the silhouette of the Grim Reaper. He froze, then aimed and shot. The figure dodged and went for his feet, tripping him up, and causing another bullet to go off into the ceiling. A woman's voice screamed and he heard shuffling and running footsteps. When he looked up, He saw a ghost-white face staring him straight in the eyes. He couldn't move or speak, but rather sat there like a slack jawed idiot. Once he regained his senses, he lunged at the ghost and seemed to go right through him. He disappeared through the door and down the hall towards the living room area. Andrew crawled over to his partner to check that he was breathing, and then ran after the ghost. In the living room, all that was there was Marcy crying and shaking her head. She was mumbling something, and as he drew near, he could hear her. "I didn't want to do this in the first place, but I didn't want to go to jail! I'm a selfish bitch! I did try to stop them, but I couldn't hurt him; he was too strong, and Rachel, she, she—"

Andrew felt an immense feeling of pity for the woman. She already turned her friend in and tried to stop her. She must be suicidal now. "She what, ma'm?" Marcy raised her head and sniffed. "I couldn't hurt her because she told me she was pregnant." Andrew felt the room spinning around him. One albino monk killer, a pregnant ex-prostitute, both running out there on the streets of New York. "They don't pay me enough for this job." Andrew went and woke Stephen up. "Hey Steve-O, we've got a missing murderer and a pregnant prostitute. We better get crackin'."

Silas tried to catch his breath as he sat on the ground behind an alley. Had he heard correctly? Rachel was pregnant? What was he doing dragging her around like this, he should have left her at Marcy's! But no, she insisted on coming. He looked down on Rachel who was now nuzzling his arm. He could sense her nervousness, and stroked her head. "I am sorry for getting us into this. I love you." She lifted her head and hugged him. "It's okay, I forgive you. I'm sorry I got pregnant." Silas laughed. "That was not something you could have prevented, but you will have to be more careful now." Rachel smiled. "If we have a boy, what do you want his name to be?" Silas thought for a moment. "Michael." Rachel nodded. "What about a middle name? I was thinking Langston." Silas looked at her curiously. It was more of a last name than a middle name. "Okay, So his name will be Michael Langston..." he suddenly remembered he had no last name. "Crowe. Don't worry, he'll take my last name. Lots of people do it." Silas nodded. "Michael Langston Crowe. Okay. What about a girl?" Rachel pondered and finally said, "I like the name Fleur, so she knows her French roots with a pretty name." Silas smiled and kissed her forehead. "As a middle name, her name should then be Blanche to remind her of the blood she carries and will one day pass on to other generations." Rachel stared at him. "How thoughtful. They both sound so nice, but they both have such meanings. Tell me a story in French." Silas didn't understand at first, but realized she just wanted to hear him speak in a different language. "Oui, moi amore."

Okay, I am done so far. I hope this is enough to make up for my long delay! Please review and have a nice day!