For a moment, she stood fixed, trying to think of what to do next. Then she hurried down the stairs and headed north, toward the location of Nightstone Unlimited's Headquarters. She had no idea what had happened to the corporation in the two years since her sudden disappearance, but she knew the first thing she needed was information and that was the closest place she could think of to get access to it. Fortuitously, it was also the opposite direction from where the sickening cloud of smoke was coming from. As she hurried uptown, the people she passed appeared to be less shocked and devastated and more lost and frustrated. Every phone booth, and internet café was overwhelmed with terrified, shouting people, trying to figure out a way home. Police and other personnel were trying to keep the situation calm, bombarded with questions they had no answers for, as they tried to convince hysterical people to head toward the ferry landings.
She came upon an entrance to a large subway station where a team of police officers were trying to keep what was quickly becoming an agitated mob from entering.
"We heard that the trains would resume service soon!" a man shouted at the officers.
"And we're telling you that this platform is closed!" a police woman shouted back at the crowd, "The tunnels are crumbing and it's not safe to board passengers here. You can go to the next station and try there." The crowd did not like hearing this and it was only becoming larger and more agitated as more exhausted people showed up, hoping to get on board an east or westbound train. Demona wouldn't have taken much notice of this exchange as she didn't have a reason to cross the river and would have probably preferred swimming it to cramming onto a train with any of these humans, but the police woman's voice caught her attention and she paused for just a moment to get a better look. She was in her street uniform, which was uncommon for her, but it was indeed Detective Elisa Maza. Unfortunately for Demona, the moment's pause was just enough time for the detective to glance in her direction and notice her.
She looked down quickly and began dodging through the crowd, trying to avoid additional attention by not breaking into a full run. She had almost made it to the corner and dared to hope that she had succeeded in avoiding the detective's recognition in the crowd. But then she heard the telltale sounds of commotion in the crowd behind her and didn't need to look back to know she was being followed. She tried to duck down the side street, but only found herself trapped by another crowd of people, blocking the way.
"Freeze, Demona," Detective Maza ordered, and she heard the click of a weapon being drawn behind her. She turned, still poised for combat.
"Why, if it isn't Detective Maza," she greeted coldly, "And you haven't been buried alive after all. What disagreeable news!"
"Don't even start with me," the detective ordered in a slow and dangerous tone. She sneered back at her, while simultaneously eyeing the crowd around them, who had begun to take notice of the altercation and were anxiously backing away as quickly as possible in a very crowded street. She didn't think the detective would fire her gun with so many people standing around, but she wasn't at all sure what the crowd's reaction would be to the sight of a woman jumping a police officer on a packed street, in the midst of the greatest crisis most of them had ever experienced. Meanwhile, Maza kept walking deliberately toward her.
"Put your hands up," she ordered, still holding her weapon on her. She was less than three yards away and had a shot that was almost impossible to miss, but there was also a crowd of people directly behind her who were not leaving the area nearly quickly enough. Demona lunged toward her, full force, hoping to surprise her and knock her down, gaining the chance to get past her before anyone else became involved. It worked at first. Maza wasn't willing to fire her gun and risk the bullets going straight through her into someone else. Instead, she dodged to the side, stumbling slightly, but not losing grip on her weapon, and allowing her to make a break for the street again. Unfortunately for her, the crowd of onlookers wasn't inclined to give her a pathway to escape and a particularly large man shoved her to the ground and assisted in holding her there until Maza had her cuffed.
"Can we please not do this? I've had a pretty trying day," Maza hissed at her in a tone that showed genuine exhaustion.
"Have you?" she retorted with a sneer, "Oh, what a shame. Anything in particular got you down?"
"Yeah, I'm sure you're just loving this whole thing," Maza accused, and was about to say something else, but they both noticed the crowd had turned its attention back across the street and there was shouting near the entrance to the train station. A group of desperate people had made their way around the blockade that had been set up in front of the entrance and gone inside, hoping to get on board any of the trains that were supposed to be resuming service. Much of the rest of the crowd looked as though they were contemplating the same trick. The one remaining officer was clearly overwhelmed with the situation as another couple of people pushed through.
"Oh, come on!" Maza muttered as her captive smiled maliciously at her dilemma. To their left was a large, storefront café that boasted a patio, crammed with a few picnic tables and chairs that were chained protectively to the rod iron fence which separated it from the sidewalk. There was a hastily hand-written sign hung in the door that read, "Sorry. Out of Food," but many stranded individuals were making unauthorized use of their outdoor seating anyway. Detective Maza looked from the café, to the train station, to her prisoner, and to Demona's confusion, she inexplicably began unlocking the handcuffs.
"What's the meaning of this?" she demanded, and as if in response, Maza slammed her backward into the iron fence. A struggle ensued, and Maza got a good kick in the stomach for her efforts, but ultimately managed to put the handcuffs back on Demona with her arms secured behind her through the bars of the fence.
"You are going to regret this," Demona snarled at her, just quiet enough that the startled onlookers couldn't overhear, "You can't drag me back to the tower and you've less than two hours before sunset."
"Not to worry," she assured her, "I'm going to get those idiots off that platform before it falls on their heads and then I'll see to it that you get taken home in style."
Then, to the outrage of several of the patio's occupants, she left her indignant prisoner chained to the fence and disappeared into the entrance to the train station, chasing after the foolish trespassers.
Demona spent several minutes trying to work her hands through the handcuffs, to no avail. She was trying to figure out just how well the fence was bolted to the cement when she was distracted by a woman, dressed in garishly colorful attire, with equally crass and colorful language, having a loud dispute with a group of dust-covered office workers who were monopolizing a nearby phone booth. The woman, sauntered over to the very fence Demona was attached to and leant against it, pouting and cursing to herself as she began to light a cigarette. In the midst of her tirade, she glanced over at Demona, caught sight of her embarrassing condition, and issued a disapproving grunt.
"Girl, what is going on with you?" she demanded, pulling her hot pink sunglasses down the bridge of her nose to get a better look at the situation.
Her first inclination was to ignore the stranger, but something about her compelled her to say, "I was just detained by an idiotic policewoman, who then got distracted and cuffed me to this fence and haven't come back yet."
"No, she didn't! She just left you here?"
She shrugged, "She went into the train station over there." Just as she nodded her head toward the other side of the street, a loud rumbling echoed from the entrance, followed by a series of crashes, a great deal of yelling, and an uprising of dust and ash. A large number of people who had been clamoring to get into the station suddenly decided to try the ferry after all.
"Girl, I don't know," the woman sighed, "I think it's gonna be a while before she comes back!" Demona growled in frustration, pulling on the handcuffs, twisting her wrists in every way she could imagine to try to force her hand through.
"That ain't gonna work, Baby," the woman chided her, "Hold on a second." She hoisted an impossibly heavy leather handbag, hung it from the fleur-de-lys on the fencepost, and began digging through it, until she successfully delivered a collection of wires, files, and other strange looking tools. She expertly selected the correct implement and went to work. In no time, she had freed Demona from the handcuffs.
"Most impressive!" Demona praised genuinely. Despite her general contempt for humanity, she had to acknowledge talent when she saw it.
"Girl, please! I've been doing handcuffs since I was twelve!"
Demona looked back across the street at the subway entrance. Most of the people she'd seen enter earlier had already emerged, dramatically telling the people waiting outside that the walls and ceiling of the tunnel leading to the platform were collapsing. She couldn't see the detective, but the other police officer was in the midst of an altercation with one irate and hysterical civilian, who looked to be in significant danger of taking Demona's place on the fence. She scanned the crowd to see if Maza had already come out, but couldn't spy her.
"What are you gonna do now?" the woman asked her nonchalantly as she examined her own reflection in the storefront window and attempted to comb debris from her hair.
"I don't know," she admitted.
"Are you going to go over there and try some sort of heroic rescue or something?" Demona looked at the woman sharply.
"Why would you suggest such a thing?" she demanded.
"I don't know. I was just getting that sort of vibe. But it does seem to be the thing to do these days."
Demona couldn't understand why she was having such a difficult time dismissing a notion so ridiculous. She hated that woman. She hated her as she hated all of her kind. She hated her for using her clan to protect her people when she knew that many, if not most of them, would happily kill them on sight. Most of all, she hated her for taking her place, with Goliath, with her daughter, and with the rest of the clan. But that was the very reason she couldn't shake the compulsion to at least make sure she was alright. Very soon, the clan would awaken. Goliath would awaken. And she knew what the news of this attack would do to him and the others. The horrific memories it would awaken for the ones who had already lived through unthinkable tragedy. How hard it would be for her daughter to understand what had happened. And she knew the very last face any of them would want to see was her own. They would want this woman, who they regarded as a friend. As Xanatos had said, if she was alive and able to walk, she was to be there before sunset. And Demona meant to see that happen.
"Is this the right place at the right time?" she asked no one in particular and the woman snorted loudly.
"I don't know if I'd say that, Baby, but there are definitely worse places to be!" She nodded grimly toward the sickening cloud of death and destruction that loomed over them.
Demona watched as the only other police officer escorted the angry man away down the street, took a deep breath, and then started resolutely toward the entrance to the train station.
"Good luck, Baby!" the woman shouted after her.
Coming out of the bright, evening sun, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the weak, buzzing glow of what was left of the light system. Whether it was from the vibrations of the original explosions, or the subsequent crumbling of the wall of the entranceway, the light system had dislodged from the ceiling and only a few sections of it emitted any light at all. The floor was littered with shattered ceiling and wall tiles. It was hard to see too far down the tunnel, but she could make out the turnstiles in the distance, their red lights indicating they were closed. Beyond that, the platform appeared to be well lit and functional. As she made her way down to the darkest part of the tunnel, she could see where the entire wall on one side had fallen in, just before the descended steel gate that kept would-be passengers from entering the platform area. As she tried to examine the crumbling wall, annoyed by the limits of her human eyes, she was startled by the sudden sound of an westbound train rushing past. Probably the first one since the attacks, she thought. The small crowd of trespassers had been wasting their time. The train was packed past capacity and it didn't stop.
She jumped back quickly as the vibrations from the train caused more tiles and some heavier material to clatter and crash to the floor. She then heard a loud beep and the strange-sounding voice of a woman, emotionlessly chanting some numbers and street names. A police radio, she realized, but she couldn't see where the sound was coming from. She took a few more steps, then froze as she heard the detective's voice.
"Wallace?" she called, her voice echoing across the tiles, "It's Maza! Bring your light over here! I'm pinned."
Demona looked about her, but didn't see any sign of the other police officer. She went a few steps closer toward the corner by the gate, where Maza's voice was coming from.
"Stop!" the detective ordered, "Ma'am, please go back up to the street and ask the officer up there to come down here. The platform is closed and this tunnel is not safe."
"Not safe? You're kidding," Demona retorted cooly, "Well, I'll take my chances. And sadly, I don't think Wallace is in a position to help you at the moment."
She cast a venomous smile as she watched her enemy's eyes fill with alarm.
"But I'm here." She crept closer to where she was trapped up to her shoulders under a large portion of ceiling that had fallen. She didn't appear substantially injured, but it was clear she was in danger of crushing herself under a cinderblock wall if she disturbed the collapse much further. Her eyes betrayed her fear as Demona came close enough that she could have reached out and touched her, had she the use of her arms.
"Demona…" she began frantically, "I know that-"
"Save it," she growled, "There's no use in trying to reason with a lunatic."
She took hold of the large piece of ceiling that had the detective pinned, testing to see how hard it would be for her to lift it. Maza, becoming desperate, began to struggle, which shifted the rubble and brought some large pieces of cinderblock crashing down around them.
"Stop it, you fool!" she cried, grabbing the back of her head, "It's your own skull you're going to smash! If this entire tunnel falls on me, it will only serve to make me angry! Can you move your legs?"
"Can I do what?" she asked incredulously.
"Move your legs, woman! Can you move your legs? I'm going to lift this slab of concrete and you're going to need to crawl out as quickly as possible."
The detective laughed bitterly, "What game are you playing now?"
"You will get only one chance to win it," she replied, "Get ready." Demona placed her shoulder under the piece of concrete and strained to lift it as smoothly as possible, just enough so the detective could worm her way out. As soon as her arms were free, she was able to slide out quickly and roll to the side, avoiding falling debris. Demona lowered the slab awkwardly, then jumped back as more tiles rained down on them.
"Are you injured?" she asked the detective.
"No," she replied, rising to her feet cautiously.
"Very well, then," she turned and walked quickly back toward the entrance, where the sky was beginning to mix with hues of orange and red.
"Demona!" the police woman called after her, "Just what exactly do you expect to get for this?" She turned back towards her, unsure of how to answer.
Finally, she said, "It is my understanding that you saved my daughter's life after she was attacked by the Hunters. Perhaps this will even that score?"
Detective Maza shook her head incredulously.
"You are unbelievable! First of all, you've tried to murder me specifically at least six times now, so no, we are not even. More importantly, I love Angela. You don't need to do anything to pay me back for saving her. I was already paid in full." Demona stared at her. Her green eyes shared no emotion. Elisa Maza wondered if contempt and rage were the only emotions she was capable of.
"Perhaps I've wasted my time then," she finally replied, then turned to walk away again.
"Not so fast," Maza ordered, pulling her weapon on her for the second time that evening. Demona stopped wearily. She was confused by her own actions. What had she hoped to gain? This folly had cost her the first opportunity to find out what she might have about the location of the Hunters. She was quite certain that when Goliath and Xanatos found out about her escape, they would make certain that it would never happen again. She felt somewhat numb as Maza put another set of handcuffs on her. It was nearly sunset now. Even if Goliath made good on his promise that any misbehavior would mean indefinite solitary confinement, she only wanted to return to the tower and be there when the clan awakened. So she went with the detective in silent cooperation. She didn't know if the tower was the "right place at the right time", as the child of Oberon had directed her, but it was where she wanted to be.