Rhyme had come to see her life as a series of ups and downs, anchored by one constant: herself. Her immortal body and her gigantic brain both ensured that nothing ever permanently inconvenienced her. The government kept locking her up because it was easier than figuring out how to kill her for good, and because they kept thinking she might be useful… and by the same token, she could always count on somebody springing her sooner or later. Once she got out, she could lie low and stay off the radar indefinitely, but the likelihood of her being noticed and apprehended increased as she did anything meaningful, eventually reaching one hundred percent. Then the whole fun cycle started over again.
In short, she was resigned to the idea that she would be going back to Dunwich, sooner or later… but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a strong preference for “later”. She’d wanted a nice long vacation, not a daytrip. She had things to do and downfalls to engineer.
She waited until Bishop would be halfway to the cafe door before she took off, darting between an ailing hardware store and a newly-minted Apollo’s Coffeehouse while the cop’s eyes were off her. She hightailed it for the end of the alley and threw herself around the corner.
Line of sight had been broken… that was the most important thing. She had a head start. Still moving, she ripped the earphones from her ears and threw the whole assemblage behind some dented trashcans. It was replaceable, and would add weight and wind resistance she couldn’t afford in a foot chase.
Making a disappearance in suburbia in the daytime was not nearly the same thing as doing so in the city at night, even in a piddling little midwest metropolis like Nebula City. There were fewer spots to vanish into, it was harder to evade visual contact during aerial pursuit, and it was easier to do a door-to-door search. The one thing Rhyme did not want to do was lead anybody back to her safehouse. Incarceration was a temporary state, but losing the resources she had invested in her hidey-hole… to say nothing of her plans and the sentimental attachment to some of the victims’ remains… that would be an unmitigated disaster.
Stacey Bishop hit the sidewalk at a dead run, and then skidded to a stop just past the curb when she realized that her quarry had vanished. She glanced up and down the street… no sign. She guessed Rhyme to be fast, on the order of a high-level athlete, but she wasn’t a speedster. Stacey ran out across the street, heading for the alley.
The detective lieutenant posed an interesting set of problems, Rhyme thought. She was too stupid to be afraid, but just smart enough to shoot a whole bunch of times and leave the questions for somebody else. If it weren’t a chase through a relatively open area, Rhyme was confident she could goad Bishop into coming in and fighting her close, but she was just as confident that Bishop would open fire as soon as she had a clear shot, the moment Rhyme stopped or turned to address her. She needed to ditch her as soon as possible… the supers would be swooping in soon, so there was only a tiny window of time for her to make good her escape.
At least now that her surveillance of Karen Seven had been interrupted, she didn’t have to worry about luck turning against her. Seven’s power had managed to force her to disengage without endangering the good officer, but once that was achieved Rhyme would be of no immediate concern.
The hardware store was in an old-fashioned building, and around the other side of it was just what Rhyme needed: an old-fashioned fire escape for the apartments above it. The rusting ladder was stuck up out of reach of the ground, but Rhyme was a skilled acrobat with well-honed muscles that felt little fatigue. She leaped for it without breaking stride, caught the edge of the platform with her fingers, and was able to haul herself up without difficulty.
The window wasn’t even locked, just a little warped in the frame… but then, who wasn’t?
“That’s right, the DL’s pursuing her on foot,” Karen said into her cell phone. The angry squawk that greeted this was enough to make her jerk her head away. “What was I supposed to do, handcuff her to the table? Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on engaging.”
She was standing by the door of the cafe, having cautioned the staff and patrons to stay back from the windows and remain calm.
“Shit, he kisses his mother with that mouth?” Lily asked her when she snapped the phone close.
“You could hear that?” Karen asked, looking at her in surprise, as Lily had moved to one of the back tables along with everybody else.
“I.. uh… fillings,” she said. “They… um… pick up cell phone calls, like how some people get radio stations, you know?”
“Right,” Karen said. She would have like to credit her skepticism to her highly-developed cop senses, but the fact was Lily sucked at lying. Whatever. It didn’t bear on the situation. She turned her attention back to the street, her service piece in her hands. If Rhyme… rather, if Stacey Bishop’s suspect… came running back their way, she would order her to halt, and then do what the situation demanded.
Lily was staring across at the big plate glass window.
“Uh, does anybody actually live over that hardware store?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Karen said. “I’ve never been out this way before.”
“Because there are for rent signs in the window, but somebody’s in there,” Lily said, getting up and moving slowly towards the window.
“Maybe somebody’s viewing the apartment,” Karen said. “Please stay back… I don’t want to get my partner’s partner killed, if there’s crossfire.”
“No, it’s her!” Lily said, going right up to the window and pointing.
“Rhyme?” Karen asked, trying to look where Lily was from the recess of the door. She didn’t have a great angle, though, and she couldn’t understand how Lily was able to make out anything through dirty windows across the street and a floor up.
“I don’t know, but it’s the walker,” Lily said. “I guess, if Staces says so… but yeah, it’s her.”
“Shit,” Karen said. She had her radio, but she didn’t think Stacey had hers. She flipped open her cell again.
“You make the call?” Stacey said in greeting.
“Yeah,” Karen said. “They’re going to send a unit over and try to get a Twin to do a flyby.”
“That’s it?”
“There are sightings all over town, partner,” Karen said. “Without a positive ID…”
“Well, tell them we’ve got one,” Stacey said.
“You got a better look at her?”
“No, I lost her… but unless you can tell me how a soccer mom fits a remote listening system inside an iBud Micro, I’m going to stick with my ID,” Stacey said, having spotted the discarded device and played back a few seconds of their conversation.
“Where are you?”
“Behind the hardware store.”
“She may be in the apartment over it.”
“What did she do, scurry up the wall like a lizard?” Stacey asked, though she backed away from the building and trained her gun on the second floor windows. “The fire escape hasn’t been lowered… I don’t think it moves any more.”
“Lily thinks she saw movement up there.”
“Well, tell Lily to keep her fucking head down and away from the windows,” Stacey said.
“Will do,” Karen said. “Hey, keep your distance, okay?”
“I’m not stupid,” Stacey said. “I’ve gotta go, though, before she gets the drop on me. Call them again. Make them believe.”
“I will.”
Stacey snapped the phone shut and pocketed it. She half expected Rhyme to drop down on her while she had a hand off her gun, but nothing. If Rhyme was in the apartment, she was waiting for Stacey to come to her. Well, that was a fool’s game. She wasn’t about to climb up a rickety old fire escape to check out one of Lily’s airheaded hunches.
Was it even just air in her head? Lily swore she hadn’t touched any drugs since the night Stacey picked her up, but who knew what she’d gotten up to when Stacey wasn’t around?
The smart thing to do was to keep the building covered. There were no windows on the alley side. She could see the back and the fire escape. Karen could see the front. If Rhyme was in there, she’d be pinned down until her sisters or the feds arrived, and then they’d be able to deal with her. A 4B SWAT team would put her down hard, like they were trained to do. That would shut her smart little mouth up right quick, wouldn’t it?
But then, Karen Seven wasn’t a forby, and she’d taken Rhyme down… and that was a fully prepared Rhyme decked out with her trick weapons and gimmicks. This time, Rhyme had only been free for one night. She’d been going low profile, not wearing her battle armor or carrying her crossbow. She was just a punk with a healing factor, and all that meant was that Stacey didn’t have to worry about excessive force. She could just shoot and shoot and shoot, not giving the bitch a chance to talk, to say… whatever she might say.
“Ah, hell. What the Christ is she doing now?” Karen said, watching through the door as Stacey came around to the front of the store and went inside.
“What?” Lily asked, from the back corner of the restaurant where Karen had sent her. “What’s happening?”
“She’s going inside, the crazy bitch,” Karen muttered to herself.
“Who is? Staces?” Lily asked. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, Lily,” Karen said. “I’m just talking to myself.”
She opened her phone and hit the speed dial.
“Did you tell them?” Stacey asked from inside the store.
“I did,” Karen said. “They’ve got two 4B vans and a chopper on the way, and a call out to the Wisdoms, so sit tight.”
“No can do,” Stacey said. “I think there are civilians up there with her.”
“Who?”
“Bums,” she said. “Squatters. I don’t know. Lives are at stake, I have to go in.”
“You aren’t a negotiator…”
“She isn’t negotiating, Seven, she’s killing them,” Stacey said. She snapped the phone shut and stuck it in her pocket. It started buzzing again immediately, but she ignored it. She flashed her badge at the old man behind the counter. “How do I get upstairs?”
“It’s… uh… back through there,” he said, pointing towards a door. “But I don’t have a key.”
“Not a problem,” Stacey said. She headed into a stairwell that had been left halfway repainted at some point, with the battered and faded cans of paint and a mold-eaten roller left in the corner, along with leaves and other debris. Even the new paint was cracked and flaking off at this point. She tried for stealth, but the stairs creaked and groaned under her weight. Oh, well, she thought… let the bitch know she was coming.
Seven could do this. So could she. Ignoring the vibrating lump in her jacket pocket, she leveled her gun at the door and mounted the last few steps.
“Bishop, you idiot,” Karen whispered as Stacey refused to answer again. She’d seemed concerned about Lily’s safety, Karen realized… maybe she would take a call from her girlfriend even when she was ignoring her partner. She turned away from the door. “Lily, do you think…”
Pivoting at that moment saved her from being barreled over as Lily streaked across the cafe at a dead run, past the startled Officer Seven and out onto the street.
“God damn it!” Karen said. “Did Rhyme figure out how to make people crazy from a distance?” she asked.
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