Lost Soul
By Paul Cwick

"Guys?" Greg said. "She’s gone! I don’t believe it…but she’s gone…!"

Nick and Norma stared at him.

"Gone?" Nick said. "What do you mean, ‘gone?’"

"Like I said! Gone! She’s not here anymore!"

"What are you… What the…! How the hell could she—" Nick sputtered as he hurried to Greg’s side and likewise fell to his knees, with Norma following him. Like Greg, they both began frantically probing the air with their hands, trying but failing to make contact with the unseen body that had been lying there only a short while earlier. The three scrambled all over the floor, exploring the air with their hands, thinking hopefully that their unseen quarry had dragged herself into a hidden corner somewhere.

"Oh, shit…shit…shit!" Norma cried. "She is gone!"

"But how could she… Where could she--?" Greg began.

"It looks like she dragged herself away…or something!" Nick suggested.

"What were you doing down here all this time?" Greg asked, almost returning to his normal self, as though the shock of the discovery had somehow miraculously revived his senses. "Weren’t you watching her?"

"Watch what? How the hell can I watch her and her at the same time?!?" Nick cried, indicating the empty air before him and his wife beside him. "And how can I watch nothing in any case?!?" Nick sighed in disgust. "Damn! Where the hell did she go?!?"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute…" Norma said. "Look…look, the blood smears go off in this direction!" She continued to probe the air in the direction she’d indicated, and the others followed her.

The long, bloody smear extended for several feet in the direction of the side-exit to the apartment building, where it abruptly stopped and became a series of brownish-red drops.

"Dammit!" Norma cursed, rising to her feet, and heading out the door. "She must’ve somehow made it outside! Come on!" She waved her arm and Nick followed, dragging Greg along with him.

"She can’t have gotten far! She’s gotta be out here somewhere!" Nick said hopefully, even though privately, he feared the worst.

By now it was dusk, with night rapidly approaching. Norma, Nick and Greg followed the trail of blood as it led out of the building and into the parking lot. Nick released his grip on Greg, who staggered and fell to the ground. Nick and Norma followed the blood trail in the failing light and, crouched down low and, with their hands stretched out, continued to search for some sign of Cat’s unseen body. They searched the lot to its perimeter, and into the empty field of tall, uncut grass which bordered the lot. By now, Greg had regained his feet, and had rejoined in the search. They soon lost all sign of the blood-trail in the gathering darkness.

"I don’t believe this! I don’t believe this!" Nick repeated, looking helplessly around him in all directions of the grassy lot. "This is freaking impossible!! For god’s sake, she was almost dead a few minutes ago!! Where the hell could she have gone?!?"

Without saying anything, the realization briefly flashed through Greg’s mind that, if nothing else, Cat had stamina. She was resilient, no question about it. He doubted that she would let a minor detail such a mortal injury stop her… He began to wonder if even a silver bullet would stop her.

It was too much…it was all too much… Greg then began to softly sob, gradually growing in volume, until it almost sounded as though he were chuckling. "You can’t stop her," he said, tears streaming down his face, and with a twisted, humorless grin. "You can’t stop her…you can’t kill her…she’s like an elemental force of nature…she can’t be stopped or reasoned with or—"

"Greg…Greg, get a hold of yourself!" Nick grabbed his friend’s shoulders and shook him, trying to restore him to his senses.

"YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!" Greg cried. "She cannot be stopped! She’s evil! You can’t stop evil!"

"Greg, listen to me—!"

"You can’t stop evil and you can’t stop her! Nothing will stop her! She just goes on and on and on and—"

His words were cut short by a sudden slap across the face from Nick.

"Greg!" Nick cried. "Greg! Snap out of it! Come on! Snap out of it!"

It was a very light slap, but with Greg’s already injured face, it was more than sufficient to get his attention. Greg stared, aghast, at what his friend done.

"You hit me!" he cried.

"I’m sorry! I’m sorry!" Nick said, grabbing his friend’s shoulders again. "But look, I can’t have you flipping out on me right now! We’ve got to find her, do you understand? You can flip out later if you want, but right now—"

"Bullshit!" Norma interrupted, her voice breaking with despair. "This is bullshit! I can’t see a damned thing out here! She could be right under our noses and we’d never know it!" She continued looking all around her, looking for some clue as to Cat’s whereabouts, but in the darkness, it was impossible. Finally, she sighed in disgust. "We lost her! Dammit! Dammit!"

"But she was hurt!" Nick said, as though stating the obvious would somehow help the situation. "She was hurt bad! She couldn’t have gotten that far! She’s got to be around here somewhere!"

"But where, dammit where?!?"

"I don’t know! We’ll keep looking—"

"How?!? I can’t even see my hand in front of my face—!"

"I don’t know, we’ll get flashlights and keep looking!" Equal parts of panic and frustration vied for supremacy of Nick’s emotions. "But she’s got to be here! She’s got to be! Somewhere!"

Just then, their attention was distracted by the sound of sirens in the distance, growing louder.

"Oh, swell!" Norma muttered.

"My neighbors must’ve called the cops." Greg said quietly, evenly, as though the matter didn’t concern him.

"Terrific!" Norma spat in disgust. "That’s just great! That’s just wonderful!"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Nick said, waving a hand. "We want the cops, don’t we? I mean, that solves everything! We can let them find her, and—"

"We’ve got to find her before the cops get here!" Norma cried.

"We need proof, that’s why! Without it, we’re right back where we started."

"What are you—?"

"What are we going to tell the cops when they get here? That there’s an invisible woman running around out here? Somewhere? I mean, what are they gonna think?"

The question struck Nick dumb; he realized he didn’t have an answer.

"They’ll never believe us!" Norma said, stating the point more clearly. "More likely, the three of us will get locked up!"

"But—but what about the blood on the ground in there?" he said, pointing toward the apartment building. "That’s proof, isn’t it?"

"Proof of what?!? An invisible woman running around? For God’s sake, think! If you were a cop, and you came out here, saw blood on the ground, and three hysterical people shlepping around a vacant lot in the dark, dressed up in disguises, and all raving about an invisible woman, what would you think?"

Nick slowly closed his eyes and clenched his jaw; Greg merely sighed resignedly.

The three stood in silent despair for precious seconds as the sirens grew louder. Finally, Nick stirred himself to action. He looked hard at Greg, then looked at his wife. In an instant, he knew what had to be done.

"Okay," he said, trying to sound as though he were at least somewhat in control of the situation, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary. "Listen to me. Greg? Greg?" Nick said, holding his friend’s jaw in one massive hand. "I need you to listen to me now, all right? Now you remember what I said about contingencies? Remember? Well…..we tried Plan A. Now I think it’s time to put Plan B into action."

Centuries passed before Nick’s full meaning finally sank in. "Oh, wait a minute!" Greg said, as though suddenly waking from a deep sleep. "Wait just a minute! I thought that was going to be… I mean, we can’t…" he faltered.

"Yes we can!" Nick said forcefully, trying (and failing) to sound reassuring. "Remember, like we talked about: This’ll be just like the Federal Witness protection program. Now look, I took care of all the details: Fake ID, everything. You take on a new appearance, a whole new identity, in a whole new city. It’ll be something like what you tried to do before, with your trip to Seattle. Only now you’ll do it the right way! You’ll disappear completely, even better than she can! If we do it right, she’ll never be able to find you; the cops won’t be able to find you, no one will. Now look, we’ve got the van parked just over there," he said, pointing in the direction behind the apartment building. "Everything we need is in there. We can order the plane tickets by phone on the way. Now let’s—"

"I know, but cutting off all ties?" Greg moaned. "All contact? Everything?"

"It’s the only way; the only way to be sure!" Nick paused, catching the look of dismay on Greg’s face. "Now look," he went on. "You agreed to this, and we have to do it too! You think I’m thrilled about it? I mean, we can’t stay here either! After everything that’s happened, you think that psycho won’t come after us next?"

"But—but she’s hurt!" Greg said frantically, looking around at the empty field. "She’s hurt bad! You said it yourself! She could be dying!"

"So what?!?" Norma cried. "Let her die! Let her bleed to death out here! Who cares about her?"

"I CARE!"

Both Nick and Norma stared with slackened jaws at their friend. They couldn’t believe what they’d just heard…but they’d heard it, all right. Even Greg seemed shocked at what he’d just blurted out.

Norma was the first to speak, barely above a whisper. "My God! My God, you’re serious…aren’t you?" The full meaning began to hit her all at once; in an instant, she understood everything. "I can’t believe this, I can’t believe it!" She repeated. "After all you’ve been through…all the hell you’ve gone through with her…and after all we’ve done for you…after all this…YOU STILL CARE ABOUT HER?!? You have GOT to be kidding me!!"

Greg dropped his head in shame. The truth was out at last; he could no longer hide it, from himself…or from others. As incredible as it sounded, and in spite of everything that had happened, a small, tiny part of Greg, buried deep in the back of his mind…still cared about Cat.

Norma closed her eyes and slowly turned away, raising her face heavenward, as though unwilling and unable to accept what she’d just heard. It defied all logic, all common sense…but apparently, it was true. "Ohhhh, man…" she whispered. "I give up…I just give up…!" Softly…very softly, she began to laugh…at the absurdity, the futility of it all.

The sirens grew louder.

"Greg listen," Nick said. "We’ve got to get out of here…now! The cops on their way, they’ll be here in minutes! Like Norma said: without evidence, without a body, even an invisible body, there’s no way they’re going to believe us! There’s nothing we could tell them that—"

Greg shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "No, I’m through running away. I’m through with all of this…with everything!" He shrugged, as if in abject surrender. "I’ve tried everything else…I’ve got nothing left to give, nothing left to fight with… At this point, I’m ready to just go to the police and take my chances… I’ve got nothing left to lose…. Even if they did put me in a rubber room, at least then maybe I’d be safe from—from—"

"Well, maybe you don’t mind a one-way trip to the loony bin," Nick interrupted. "But I do! Now, come on!"

"No…no, it’s hopeless…it’s no use…whatever she wants of me she can have…I give up…I surrender…I’ve got nothing left…" Greg shook his head, sadly, as though he were playing a losing game.

"Look, there’s no time to argue about it! Now come on!" Nick threw a massive arm around his friend and dragged him along, thereby effectively closing any further discussion of the issue. Strangely enough, Greg put up no resistance as his friend dragged him along; he merely followed meekly, robotically, as though he no longer had any will of his own. Nick took little notice of it, however; his main concern was simply getting out of the area and fast. Norma followed close behind and the three hurried through the grassy field to the back street behind the apartment building, to the waiting van at the curb.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God…" Norma repeated over and over as she trailed behind. "This is insane! This is crazy! This isn’t gonna work!" Nick ignored her, and continued to lead the way over the uneven terrain.

Less than five feet away from where the three had stood discussing the matter, an area of the tall grass lay flattened, as though something were resting there. The dry grass was stained with a red liquid, rapidly becoming a deep reddish-brown in color as it became more saturated. From the flattened grass came the sound of labored breathing, as of an unconscious person. The breathing grew very weak and shallow there in the darkness.

* * *

Nick, Greg and Norma reached the van. Norma flung the doors open and Nick fairly threw Greg into the back of the van, with Norma following close behind. Nick dashed over around to the driver’s side and hopped in. He started the engine, gunning it, and the van sped off down the road.

"We gotta get you cleaned up before anything else." Norma said, now having regained some degree of composure. She looked over Greg’s injuries under the dome light of the van. "Where the hell is the first-aid kit?" she cried, looking around the back of the vehicle.

"I don’t know! Look around, it’s got to be back there somewhere!" As much as he tried to keep his head during this crisis, Nick realized that he was very close to "losing it" himself at this point. Oh God, this whole deal is a disaster! he thought. I’m going to die! We’re all going to die…! Okay…okay, calm down, big guy… don’t get upset…gotta get them taken care of first. Get Greg patched up & sent on his way, get Norma calmed down, get us the hell out of here…let things settle down a little bit first…then you can go to pieces! Just keep it together a little while longer…just a little longer…it’s almost over.

Or was it? he thought. After all, what the hell were they doing? Taking of for God-knew-where? And then what? And what about Greg? Nick stole a quick glance at his friend in the back of the van as Norma tended to his injuries. My God, my God… Nick thought, turning to face the roadway again. He looks like hell! He’s a bloody mess! And that’s not counting… He couldn’t even bear to finish the thought. Yet he couldn’t ignore the issue of Greg’s mental health. It was by now increasingly obvious that Greg seemed to be cracking up. The combined stress of the day’s events, with the previous days, weeks and months of horror had no doubt reached a critical breaking point for Greg, and he seemed to be cracking up! Not all at once, apparently; but little by little, piece by piece, off and on, like a faulty, flickering light-bulb, Greg’s seemed to be gradually slipping farther and farther away into a state of near-catatonia.

Nick tried not to think about it however, choosing instead to concentrated on matters at hand. Maybe later they can get Greg to a doctor or whatever, but for now… He tried to keep his wits about him as he drove, trying to keep under the speed limit, while Norma did her best to tend to Greg’s injuries. After some trial-and-error, she was able to stanch most of the bleeding and put clean bandages on the various cuts and gashes.

The act of bandaging Greg seemed to have a soothing, therapeutic effect on him. Gradually, he seemed to calm down, his agitation dwindling as Norma dressed his wounds. He seemed to respond to the soft touch of her hands as well, gradually regaining awareness of himself and the reality of the situation around him.

After several miles, Nick pulled the van over to the curb of a side-street behind a closed warehouse, just outside the downtown area, where Norma’s Honda sat parked nearby. Norma was just applying the last of the bandages to Greg’s head as Nick pulled up the parking-brake and shut the engine.

He turned around to look at his friend, whose head, face, arms and hands were now heavily bandaged. He seemed to be more alert and alive now than he had earlier, but Nick couldn’t be sure if that was any indication of his true mental state.

"How, um—" he began, looking at Norma. "How’s he doing?"

Greg looked up and gave his friend a wry (but very weak) smile. "He’s doing okay," he said.

Nick smiled weakly in return. Thank God! he thought, relieved. At least he’s a little better now… he seems to be getting back to his old self…

"I don’t know," Norma said, surveying her handiwork and shaking her head. "I hope this is good enough. He really ought to be in a hospital!"

"Out of the question." Nick replied. "Maybe later, but not now—"

"For God’s sake, look at him!" she cried. "He’s a mess! He could have a concussion or internal injuries for all we know!"

"No, no, it’s… I’m okay," Greg said, painfully clutching his sore sides. "It’s not that serious, I can live with it." He attempted another smile, as though to set his friends’ minds at ease. "It’s just flesh; it heals."

Nick scrutinized his friend narrowly. "Are you sure you’re all right?" he asked.

"Yeah…yeah, I’m fine…" Greg answered, pleasantly.

Nick didn’t know what to make of Greg. He couldn’t tell by looking at his friend what the state of his health was, physical and otherwise. He doubted that he could have recovered so quickly from his earlier collapse…and yet he seemed to be more or less ‘all right’… But how could anyone be sure? Nevertheless, Nick saw no alternative but to continue with the plan.

"Well…all right then," he said finally. "On to Phase Two. We gotta change clothes. All of us. Let’s get started." Norma pulled out the bag containing the fresh set of clothes that had been packed along as part of the "Contingency Plan" and handed it to Greg. She turned away as Greg unzipped his coveralls.

Changing clothes in the back of the van was neither easy nor comfortable for Greg, especially with the various injuries he had sustained all over his body, but somehow he managed. He felt very uncomfortable with the clothes Nick picked out for him to wear, however, particularly the worn, torn, oversized overalls and the tent-sized plaid shirt. But he was at least willing to wear them. What Greg really balked at was the absurd disguise that Nick insisted that he also wear: the baseball cap with an attached ponytail in back, the false mustache and the enormous horn-rimmed glasses, all of which helped to hide Greg’s injuries and bandages, as well as disguise his true appearance. Greg at first hesitated to wear the disguise, pointing out that he’d put up with enough nonsense today, and wasn’t about to put up with any more. He and Nick were almost to the point of arguing about it, when Greg’s mind was finally changed by the sound of sirens in the distance, growing louder, coming from roughly the direction of his apartment. He put on the disguise in silence.

When Greg finished, it was Nick’s turn to change his clothes. He climbed into the back of the van, as Greg and Norma struggled to move over and make room for him in the cramped space. When he had finished, he pulled out three small nylon carry-on bags, stored in the very back of the van, and he and Greg climbed out, allowing Norma to change in privacy.

"Are you okay to walk?" Nick said, helping to steady his friend on his feet.

"Yeah, I think I’m okay now," Greg answered, although he still seemed a bit wobbly to Nick.

The two men walked to the Honda parked nearby and climbed into it, with Greg in the back seat and Nick taking the front passenger seat. While they waited for Norma, Nick picked up the cell phone and ordered plane tickets. Minutes later, Norma joined them, wearing different clothes, minus the blonde wig and with all traces of makeup cleaned from her face. She slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The little car sped off in the night. No one spoke a word.

It was late in the evening when the Honda finally pulled into the parking-lot of the airport. Norma pulled into a parking-space and shut the engine, turning to face her husband in the seat beside her. "Well?" she said, finally breaking the silence.

"Okay," Nick replied, still trying to sound in-control, despite his true feelings. "This is it. We all ready?"

Greg and Norma grunted affirmatively. "Okay. Let’s go." Nick said.

The three emerged from the van, each carrying one of the nylon carry-on bags. They walked quickly to the terminal without another word exchanged between them. Once inside the terminal, Nick walked over to a counter to pick up the plane tickets; Greg and Norma waited behind, trying to hide in an out-of-the-way corner. A short time later, Nick returned with the tickets and boarding-passes. He handed one to Greg, one to his wife and kept one for himself.

Greg looked at his ticket and saw the destination. "Poughkeepsie?!?" he nearly cried in disbelief. "Where the hell is Poughkeepsie?!?"

"Shhhhhh, not so loud." Nick said. "It’s in New York. I think. New York or New Jersey. Or maybe it’s in New Hampshire. No, no that can’t be right. It’s in New Something I know that… Anyway, what’s the difference? It’s far away from here, that’s all that counts."

"Yeah, but Poughkeepsie?!? Who the hell ever heard of that place?"

Nick leaned over close to him. "Yeah, well that’s the idea, isn’t it? Some unlikely out-of-the-way place where a person can hide. That’s what we want, isn’t it?"

Greg didn’t answer, but only looked at his ticket again and sighed resignedly.

"Anyway," Nick went on. "It’s the best I could get on such short notice. I just said, ‘First plane out anywhere, as soon as possible, what have ya got?’ And this is what they had. And in any case, it’s better than where we’re going."

It was then that Greg remembered that, as part of the plan, Nick and Norma would have to leave town as well. Thus suddenly reminded of the sacrifice his friends were making for him, he felt guilty about all his earlier grumbling. "Where, uh—" he asked, trying to cover his feelings. "Where are you two going?"

"Umm," Nick said, pulling the airline tickets out of his pocket and looking at them for the first time. "Another out-of-the-way place. Rio Linda or Alviso or Grover’s Mill or Pig’s Knuckle…Something like that… Here it is: Warwick."

"Where the hell’s that?" Norma asked, the first words she had spoken since they had arrived.

"Umm. Rhode Island, I think. Or maybe it’s Long Island. What’s the difference?"

"Well, it’s nice to know where we’re going sometimes," she said flatly.

"Well, we’ll find out when we get there," Nick replied.

Greg dropped his head and shook it, despondently. "I can’t believe we’re really doing this… I just can’t believe it… I mean, I know we talked about it, but when we talked about it, it didn’t seem…real… It almost seemed like a game…but now that we’re actually going to really do it…" his voice trailed of. Another long silence followed.

"Well," Nick said at last. "This is it, this is really it." He paused, looking soberly at his wife and friend. "This may be the last time we ever see each other. ‘Cause remember…like we talked about: for this to work, Greg, you have to not only leave town, but you can’t ever come back, for any reason. Ever. You’ll have to cut all ties. Leave no clues, no trails, nothing." His voice faltered. He swallowed and forged ahead. "I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this, even though this was my idea. I guess I hoped we could find another way…but…" he trailed off.

"Anyway, we’ll stay in—" he paused, looking at the ticket again. "Warwick for a few weeks, until—" his voice dropped low. "Until all this blows over and things quiet down around here again. Then maybe we’ll come back and—and try and straighten things out. You know, your apartment and your belongings and—you know…" He saw tears welling in Norma’s eyes, and his voice trailed off.

"Well, there’s too much to say, and not enough time to say it," he continued, bringing his speech to a conclusion. "So let’s jet say ‘good-bye.’ Maybe we’ll all meet each other again sometime…somewhere." He reached his hand out to Greg for a handshake, and Greg took it. But when he did, the two old friends immediately pulled each other close for a giant, bear-hug embrace.

"Ow!" Greg said. "Easy, not so hard! I’m all busted inside, remember!"

"Sorry!" Nick said, releasing him. "So long, little buddy… Take care of yourself."

"Take it easy, big guy." Greg replied, then turned to Norma.

"Norma, I—" he began. "Even though things didn’t quite work out the way we hoped…and I know a lot of it was probably my fault, but—"

"Greg, don’t—" Norma interrupted him. "Please…"

He raised a hand, insisting on continuing. "Still…I…I don’t know how I can thank you…for everything…"

As he had done with Nick, Greg reached out to Norma for an embrace, she responding in kind. The two held each other for an untold time, until a voice over the loudspeaker announced the boarding of Greg’s flight. Greg then abruptly released his friend, turned and, with a final wave of his hand, walked toward the boarding-gate and a new life.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Greg settled back in the airline seat just as the airliner began its final taxi for takeoff. He felt very drowsy. He was completely beaten, worn-out and exhausted and sore. His entire body ached, from the crown of his head to his toenails and everywhere in between, but most acutely in his side, near his cracked ribs. He could barely draw a full breath and wondered if they had gotten broken during the earlier scuffle. It wouldn’t have surprised him.

He felt completely exhausted, in the literal sense of the word. Exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally. He had run the gamut of emotions, from anger, outrage, disgust, stark terror, frustration and finally, to resignation of what seemed to him to be the inevitable. He now felt nothing; he was numb.

The day had been a complete and total disaster, which Greg knew he was very lucky just to survive. And he had no idea of what the future held for him. He didn’t know where he was going, how long he would have to stay there or what his short-term and long-term prospects were. He had almost no money with him, no clothes other than what he wore on his back and what little he carried in the small nylon carry-on bag. And, as Nick pointed out, he could never return to the town of Walnut. Ever.

Yet, oddly enough…he almost didn’t even care anymore at that point… It was strange, but…it didn’t seem to matter that much anymore, nothing did. None of it even seemed real. It was all like a bad dream, from which he could not awaken. It didn’t seem to matter what he did or if he did anything; nothing he did made any difference… Why fight it? he thought, wearily. Might as well just accept the inevitable…nothing changes, it just goes on and on and on… It’s hopeless, he thought. Simply hopeless…

Because there was still Cat. Somehow, she had apparently escaped again and was still alive. And at large. And injured. Greg shuddered as he recalled something he’d once heard on a Public Television program, something about how there was nothing more dangerous than a wounded animal.

Greg shook his head, trying to dismiss such fatalistic thoughts plaguing him, and closed his eyes just as the plane took off. He was just nodding off to sleep when suddenly, a horrible realization struck him and his eyes snapped open. He started in his seat, as though about to jump out of it, before catching himself. His head whipped around and he looked out the window beside him. He looked down at the ground receding beneath him, far, far below, at an unimaginable speed. In spite of his exhaustion, his heart began to pound and he broke out into a sweat as though he had just run ten miles.

Because he remembered something. Something he’d forgotten. Something important.

Cat’s herb plants.

They were back in the kitchen of his apartment.

He’d left them behind, in the cabinet underneath the sink.

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