By Paul Cwick

Norma slammed the phone down for the umpteenth time. "Dammit!" she said. "No answer! Where the hell is he?"

"He’s probably not home yet." Nick said.

"Not home yet?" Norma turned to face her husband. "For God’s sake, it’s after seven! Where the hell could he be?"

"All right…all right, just calm down…"

"Don’t tell me to calm down, dammit! I’ve been calling his number for nearly an hour now!"

The volume in her voice betrayed tension and frustration rather than anger; fortunately Nick was quick enough to recognize it as such. He kept silent, rather than respond.

"Something is wrong," Norma said quietly, as much to herself as to Nick. "Something really wrong. I can feel it." She stared hard at the phone as though it were deliberately thwarting her efforts to contact her friend. Then, without another word, she turned and headed for the coat closet, taking out her jacket and pulling it on.

"Whoa, wait a minute, where are you going?" Nick said.

"I’m going out, where do you think?"

"Where?"

"To find Greg, obviously!

"But where?"

She sighed loudly, trying to remain patient. "I’ll try his place first and see if he’s there. Maybe he’s just not answering the phone. If he’s not there, then I’ll try back at Armando’s café. That’s where I last saw him; maybe he’s still there. Maybe he had car trouble and he’s stranded there or somewhere along the way. But wherever he is, I’m going to find him and talk to him about this!" she said, waving the photo copy of the newspaper article she held in her hand.

"Hold on, just hold on now; maybe we’d better—"

"Look!" she said, turning to face her husband. "For weeks now, we’ve done nothing but sit around and talk about this thing. Talking, speculating, theorizing, discussing, debating and everything else! Enough’s enough! I’m tired of sitting around, doing nothing but talk; I’m going to do something!"

Nick looked at his wife. She rarely got into such an agitated state, but when she did, she was a force to be reckoned with. However, she also tended to become somewhat reckless while in such a mood. For such a little squirt, she could be awfully pugnacious at times, and Nick was afraid she might get into trouble. "Maybe I’d better go with—"

"No! You’d better stay here, in case he calls. I left about a million messages on his answering machine. If he calls here, tell him I went out looking for him. Tell him I want to talk to him."

Norma looked Nick directly in the eyes, and he saw that it was useless to argue with her at this point. "All right," he said. "But for God’s sake, be careful!"

* * *

It was now past twilight, and Greg stood in the middle of the parking lot, perfectly still. He knew Cat was still around somewhere; he felt it. Greg looked around, turning his head this way and that, straining his ears to listen for the tiniest sounds that might betray Cat’s whereabouts. There was so much ambient noise, however, from patrons going into and coming from the nearby café that he couldn’t hear anything else.

Cat was especially vicious in her attack this time. Only moments ago she had tried to strangle him; she almost succeeded. Her long, slender fingers were extremely strong, and Greg was unable to break their grip. Then, suddenly, without warning, the unseen fingers released his throat. Greg coughed and gasped for breath. He looked around him. Some people were coming out of the café and heading to their cars. Maybe that’s it, Greg thought. Maybe she’s afraid to try anything when other people are around. Maybe…maybe now’s my chance…

Greg made a quick dash to the pay phone near the café entrance. Since Cat had sabotaged his car, that meant he’d have to phone for a cab. He could wait inside for the cab to arrive. He would be safe in there, since Cat was apparently reluctant to start anything with other people around.

He had almost reached the phone when Cat renewed her attack, slapping and scratching him viciously. Greg tried to shield himself as best he could while he fished madly in his pockets for some loose change. His white shirt soon became heavily stained from the blood flowing onto it from the numerous cuts, scratches and gashes opened up on his face.

The other café patrons got into their respective cars and drove off, paying little attention to the disheveled young man at the pay phone. Greg finally managed to retrieve some change from his pocket, pulling out a handful of quarters and dimes. He was just about to put the coins in the slot of the phone when his hand was struck away by an unseen force. The coins sailed away into the parking-lot, briefly catching the light of the street-lamps, glinting brightly in the darkness before disappearing into the gloom. Greg turned and ran back out to the middle of the parking-lot, to try to find the lost quarters and dimes. He looked around the area where he thought they had scattered, but he didn’t see them anywhere. He even got down on his hands and knees, searching for them, but without luck.

Greg was in this hands-and-knees position when Cat launched the most vicious phase of her attack. She began to punch and kick him, about the face and abdomen, kicking him in his sides and stomach and below the belt.

Greg tried to shield himself as best he could against the unseen blows, but it was useless. He’d withstood the blows for as long as he could, then, without any time to think or plan, he struggled clumsily to his feet and took off running, blindly, down the darkened street. Almost immediately, he became short of breath; shooting pains ran through his sides with each breath he took. God, it really hurt! Greg wondered if Cat had really busted something serious inside. He knew he wouldn’t be able to run very far. As he ran, he thought he heard a faint flapping sound behind him, of bare feet hitting pavement.

The street lamps became fewer and farther between as Greg ran, and the street grew progressively darker. Added to Greg’s growing terror was a sudden panic when he realized that he was now also lost. He knew this immediate area only during the daylight hours, and from behind the windshield of a car. At night-time, in the dark and on foot however, the landscape appeared entirely different, and Greg soon found himself completely disoriented.

Which way was Central Expressway? he wondered. To his left? Or to his right? Was Scott Boulevard nearby? There was an all-night bus line on Scott, if he could make his way to it. Maybe by some miracle the bus was due to arrive soon. But which direction was it? And what street was this? And did it go through to Scott? He didn’t know; he’d never been down this way before.

After an all-too-brief sprint, Greg’s energy began to wane. He tried to will his legs to carry him further, but they were rapidly failing him. His lungs felt as though they were about to burst, and although adrenaline carried him on for another block, he was soon forced to stop for breath.

As he gasped for breath, he looked around him. It was nearly impossible to see in the near-total darkness of his immediate surroundings. In the distance, he saw the faint glimmer of a couple of halogen lamps from auto-wrecking yards and from the roofs of a couple of warehouses, but they were too far away to provide enough light for him to get his bearings. He looked up in the sky; no moon. Dammit! he thought. I can’t see a damned thing! Where the hell am I?

He lowered his head, panting heavily. Apart from the sound of his own labored breathing, the only sounds he heard were of distant traffic. He seemed to be alone.

But wait! What was that? He heard a faint sound, similar to that of his own labored breathing, but different, somehow, slightly lighter in tone. And it seemed to come from some distance away from him. It must be Cat! he thought. But how did she get so far behind? I never could outrun her before. Did I lose her? Did I give her the slip?

Greg suddenly realized one possible reason for his unexpected lead over Cat. He crouched down and touched the ground with his fingers. The street in this older, run-down section of town was more roughly-paved than the newer section, with rough cobblestones and gravel, rather than the smooth asphalt of the new thoroughfares and parking-lots. Running barefooted on this rough surface for any distance, Greg realized, must have worn the soles of Cat’s feet nearly raw.

The ghostly panting seemed to come closer to Greg, but slowly, almost casually. Greg tried to catch his breath and regroup his energies to make another break for it. Then he noticed something strange. The panting sound came closer...and closer... Then…it simply passed him right by. There was a whispered curse, and it was only then that Greg realized that Cat couldn’t see him in this darkness! He was fortunate enough to be wearing his dark suit that day, which was virtually invisible in this low light. Even his white shirt was now hard to see, stained as it now was with his own blood. A jolt of excitement shot through his body as he realized that, for the moment anyway, he might actually be safe from Cat.

He heard more whispered curses from Cat: "Dammit! Where the hell did he go? That bastard! I know he’s around here somewhere! I just know it!"

Greg stood stock still, breathing silently and deeply through a wide-open mouth. He wouldn’t be safe much longer, he realized. His own eyes were now getting used to the dark, and he knew Cat’s eyes must be adjusting to it as well. In a few minutes, she might be able to see something of him in this darkness; even the tiniest glimpse would be sufficient for her to once again have the advantage over him.

Greg looked around him, and he began to notice details in his surroundings that he couldn’t see earlier. To his right, he could just barely make out a faint, grayish form which he assumed must be a chain-link fence. What was immediately beyond that, Greg didn’t know. But listening closely, it seemed to him that the traffic sounds were slightly louder in that direction. He didn’t know for sure, but he had a hunch that Central Expressway was in that direction. As soon as he was able, he could just hop that fence, run across whatever lay on the other side, and just keep going until he hit the expressway, where he could hopefully catch the bus. Or even if it wasn’t the expressway, the traffic sounds indicated cars, people, transportation. There must be a bus stop or taxi stop or something there that he could catch.

His thought were interrupted by a sudden sound from his immediate left.

"Greg?" Cat’s voice called out in a tone of sickening mock-sweetness. "Greeeeeggggggg….? Hello…? Come out, come out, wherever you are… I know you’re there…"

A chill ran down Greg’s back at the tone of voice. Then a new thought occurred to him. Why run? he thought. There were now both on more or less equal terms. Although he still couldn’t see her, neither could she see him under the circumstances. Maybe…just maybe he should take a stand and face her down right here and now, and just settle it once and for all… It would be easy…no witnesses…

"You think you can hide from me," the voice called, moving closer to Greg. "But you can’t…sooner or later, I’ll find you… You know I always do…"

That’s right, Greg thought. Come closer, just a little closer…I want you to… Just a little closer, you miserable, rotten… He flexed his hands.

* * *

Norma gripped the steering-wheel of the beat-up little Honda with white-knuckled hands, flooring the gas-pedal all the way down Cypress Avenue. Come on, come on, you piece of junk! she silently pleaded with the old car to go faster, but its tiny, one-lung engine was already screaming in agony from the strain.

Where the hell is he? Norma wondered. He’s not at his apartment, where the hell is he?

Greg’s apartment was the first and most obvious place she had checked in her search for her friend. But when she got there, the place was dark, and when she knocked on the door and rang the bell, there was no answer. She waited outside the door for a few moments, undecided on what to do next, then returned to her car and drove off. By now, her agitation bordered on panic, and she had a sick, sinking feeling that Greg was in serious danger.

She slowed the vehicle as she approached an exit. Is this…? she thought. Yeah…yeah, this is it…Central Expressway. She spun the wheel, heading onto the onramp, then gunned the engine again, propelling the little car onto the expressway.

This is the quickest way to the cafe, she thought. Oh God, I only hope he’s still there! Or that I see him somewhere along the way!

All the way down the expressway, she drove pedal to metal.

* * *

"Greeeeeggggg?" Cat’s deceptively-soft voice crooned out in the darkness. "Greeegggg? Come on, honey, let’s be friends. I’m sorry I got angry… It’s just that I love you so much, baby, really I do, you know that… Come on, talk to me—GodDAMN it!!" The timbre of Cat’s voice abruptly changed, as she evidently stepped on something sharp. Greg barely concealed a chuckle as he heard in the darkness the unmistakable sound of someone stumbling to the ground after losing their footing.

"Come on Greg, come on," Cat’s voice resumed, the frustration in her voice becoming increasingly evident. "I know you’re around here somewhere, you’re not fooling anyone. Come on baby, talk to me!"

Does she really expect me to answer? Greg thought. Does she really think I’m that stupid?

"Come on Greg, pleeeeeeeze? Please don’t be angry at me. Please? I said I was sorry…"

Where have I heard that before, Greg thought briefly, before he noticed something:

Her voice seemed to be moving closer. I think…I think she’s coming this way…! he thought. Yes, yes she’s definitely moving in this direction! Come on…just a little closer…that’s it…

"Greeeeggggg?" Cat’s voice sounded like it was right within arm’s reach. Greg waited for another half-second and then reached his arms out blindly, grasping at Cat, trying to grab a hold of her.

Whether through finely-honed instincts, extremely-acute hearing or just plain luck, Greg’s fingers actually made contact with Cat’s body. His left hand grasped but slipped away from what felt like part of her torso, but his right hand solidly gripped her upper arm. His hand clamped down on it like a vise, yanking her closer to him while his left arm cocked back to deliver a solid blow.

Cat let out an ear-splitting shriek, and her free hand reared up and struck Greg across the face, her long nails tearing into his face. Greg cried out in pain, and loosened his grip with his right hand ever so slightly. Cat used this opportunity to squirm free, and in the fraction of a second, she became a whirlwind of pure, animal savagery, screaming, clawing, biting and kicking him. He tried to grab another hold of her and strike a blow, but it was useless. By then, her advantage of invisibility was a moot point; she couldn’t even see where she aimed her blows. She struck wildly, blindly, at the unseen form grabbing at her from out of the darkness.

At that point, Greg was no longer dealing with a normal human being but an animal: a savage, wild, untamed beast, screaming and tearing at him in uncontrolled fury. He withstood the attack as long as he could, weathering the blows and scratches, as he tried in vain to restrain her and strike back. But it was useless; it was like trying to bag a wildcat. It seemed as though she had a thousand arms, each one equipped with razor-sharp talons, all lashing out at him with superhuman speed. Greg soon realized that he probably wouldn’t be able to contain Cat in such a state even if he could see her. Once again, he underestimated her: he failed to take into account the fact that he was dealing with a complete, raving lunatic.

He then lowered his head and lunged blindly forward, trying to grab Cat around her midsection. He misjudged her position slightly and only bumped her aside, causing her to sprawl on the ground. Greg likewise nearly fell to the ground himself. He quickly recovered his balance however, and when he heard the sound of his opponent falling to the ground, he decided not to try and tangle with Cat any further. Instead, he took advantage of the split-second that Cat was out of action and turned to make a fast break for the chain-link fence.

He had just enough lead over Cat so that he was able to get to the fence, jump over it and run some distance beyond it by the time Cat reached it and started to climb over it herself. He ran only a short distance before he found himself in the midst of thick bushes and tams. Sharp brambles and thorns snagged and tore his coat-sleeves and pant-legs, but he didn’t care. In fact, he was glad of it. It was the perfect obstacle, he realized, when one is being chased by a naked, invisible assailant. There’s no way Cat can make it through this stuff! he thought. She’ll be torn to shreds! And, sure enough, Greg soon heard the sounds of Cat snarling and swearing furiously, far, far behind him. The sounds grew more and more faint as he hurried through the brush, and the sounds of cars and traffic grew louder.

Greg finally emerged from the thick tams and came upon a clearing, a flat, open patch of ground immediately in front of him. He ran towards it, and in seconds, he found himself in the midst of a blinding flurry of bright lights and a cacophony of car horns, engines roaring and tires screeching. He realized too late that he had managed to find Central Expressway after all, and was, in fact, standing right in the middle of it. He heard tires screeching to his left, and whipped his head around to find a pair of bright headlights shining in his eyes. Instinctively, he tried to jump back towards the safety of the tams. The bright lights blinded his eyes, and tires screeched right in his ears.

Then, suddenly, all was dark. And quiet.

* * *

Alpine road, thought Norma. The next exit should be Alpine road… Should be coming up on it soon… Intersection should be just up ahead…don’t want to miss it…better slow down. Probably a damned red light, anyway…always is!

She eased up on the throttle, and the tiny vehicle immediately slowed. The road began to curve slightly, and Norma gently pressed the brake pedal, slowing the car even more. She had just rounded the curve when she saw a figure, brightly illuminated by high-beam headlights, emerge from the bushes at the side of the road, and stagger out into the middle of the roadbed. Norma immediately slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel to avoid the figure. Tires screeched as the little car fish-tailed this way and that. The car had almost screeched to a complete halt just as it reached the figure, which then quickly disappeared into the shadows on the passenger side of the car.

For one brief, hopeful instant, Norma thought she missed him entirely. But just as the car skidded to a full stop, there sounded a soft thump against the side of the car. Norma felt the pit of her stomach fall out, as though she were in an elevator whose cable had suddenly snapped. She pulled the car over to the shoulder, yanked on the parking break, threw the door open and jumped out, running around to the other side of the car, afraid of what she would find.

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God… she silently repeated to herself over and over again. Stupid crazy drunk in the road… I hope I didn’t kill him…!

She rounded the left rear fender of the car to find a shabbily-dressed figure, hunched over and weaving unsteadily, dimly illuminated by the tail-lights of the car. Oh, thank God! she thought. He’s alive! And he’s still on his feet! He must be all right! I must have just grazed him. She almost fainted with relief. She cautiously approached the figure, whose face was still obscured in shadow.

"Geez, I’m sorry mister, but I didn’t even see you. You were just standing there in the middle of the road and—"

The figure lifted raised his head, and his face was momentarily illuminated by a passing headlight. Although the face was battered and bloodied, Norma recognized it at once.

"Greg?!?!?" she cried in disbelief.

"Norma?!?" the shabby figure straightened up and stared at her intently.

"What the hell are you doing here?!?" they both said, simultaneously.

"I’m looking for you!" Norma cried. "What the hell are you doing; trying to get yourself killed?!?"

For an answer, Greg did the absolute last thing that Norma expected: he started laughing..

"What’s so funny?" she said. "This is serious! I nearly killed you!"

Greg shook his head and waved a hand. "I know, I know… It’s just…nervous laughter. Believe me, I’m laughing with relief. You have no idea how glad I am to see you!"

"Yeah, well, let’s get out of the middle of the road, all right?"

As though awakening from a deep sleep, Greg’s eyes suddenly snapped open wide, immediately alert. "Yeah! Yeah, you’re right! Let’s get out of here!" he said.

Norma unlocked the passenger side door for him, and he jumped inside. "Come on, come on, let’s get moving!" he said, slamming the door and locking it.

Norma walked briskly around to the other side of the car and hopped in.

"Come on, come on, let’s go!" Greg cried, impatiently.

"All right, all right," Norma said, putting her seat belt on, then suddenly froze when she took a good look at her friend under the dome light of the car.

"My God, what the hell happened to you?!?" she cried. "You look even worse now than you did this afternoon! Were you in an accident or—or—" her voice drifted off momentarily, then her face fell. "Oh my God, did I do this to you? When I hit you? Oh my God, I couldn’t have! Dear Lord, I’ll never forgive myself!"

"No, no, Norma, you didn’t do this—"

"But I hit you!" she was almost in tears.

"No, you didn’t. Norma… Norma, listen!" He raised his voice slightly. "Listen to me. You didn’t do this, all right?" He indicated his bloodied face and shirt. "You didn’t hit me! The car just grazed me a little bit as it passed me. I just got a little bitty bump, that’s all. But I’m all right, see?"

Norma looked at him quizzically.

"Yeah, really!" he said, smiling. "Just a little bump. You bumped my elbow a little bit, that’s all. Look, see?" he rolled up his sleeve, showing his bruised elbow. "But I’m okay, really. Okay? Okay?"

Norma closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Greg shifted impatiently in his seat. "Now can we—" he paused, looking over his shoulder out the window. "Can we just drive? I’ll explain everything later."

"But how did this happen then? Who did this?" she asked, and immediately wished she hadn’t, as she realized what the answer was. "I mean, look at you! I’ve got to get you to the hospital!"

"Look, never mind about that, all right? I told you, I’m fine! I just want to get out of here!" He looked out the window again; he seemed to be looking at something in the bushes.

What the hell is he looking at? Norma wondered as she released the hand brake. "What’s out there?" she said.

"Nothing! Just drive!!"

Without further delay, Norma shifted into gear and gunned the engine. The little car chugged to life and scooted away down the expressway. Just as it pulled away a slight movement disturbed the branches of the tams at the edge of the road.

Cat had emerged from the cruel, thorny branches of the bushes and tams just in time to see Greg sitting inside a little gray Honda. She could see him clearly under the dome light of the car, but she couldn’t quite make out who the driver was. Then, moments later, the little car shifted into gear and sped away down the expressway. Cat stood and watched helplessly as the tail lights of the little car gradually receded into the distance. She had just missed him.

Damn him, damn him, damn him, Cat silently cursed to herself.

She stood motionless, just outside the perimeter of the bushes, completely immobilized by frustrated rage. Then, suddenly, she fell to her knees and broke into tears, as the cumulative effect of the events of the day finally caved in on her all at once. All the multitude of physical and emotional wounds, all the aches and pains of this tortuous day all exploded within her at once, and her screams and cries of rage were scarcely drowned out by the noise of the passing busy traffic.

Cat gently rocked back and forth on her knees as she cried, hugging herself with her arms. She let out a great cry and turned her face heavenward, tears streaming from her eyes.

Dear Goddess, she silently prayed. Why are you doing this to me? Why? What have I ever done to deserve this? Why can’t things ever go my way? Ever? Why, why why?!?

She lowered her head again, burying her face in her hands as she continued to weep.

In time, her cries and sobs gradually gave way to soft moans and whimpers, and the emotional maelstrom that raged within her gradually began to subside.

And she began thinking clearly again.

Amidst the turmoil within her mind at that point, one fact suddenly struck her and stood clear above all others.

That little gray Honda. That cruddy little, old, beat-up primer-gray Honda. She recognized that car. She knew who it belonged to.

It belonged to Norma. Norma, Norma, Norma! Cat thought, as the rage began to build within her all over again. Norma! Her again! Always sticking her nose in where it doesn’t belong! Always interfering!

As cold, tired and sore as Cat was at that point, covered by millions of scratches and sores from the cobblestones, fragments of broken glass and thorny branches through which she had passed in pursuit of Greg, she knew that there was one more thing she had to do before she could return home. She didn’t want to do it; but she knew she must; she had no choice. She would have to confront Norma. Now. Tonight.

Part of her wanted to forget the whole thing, to go home, take a nice hot bath, nurse her wounds and simply forget about Greg, forget about the hell that he was putting her through, forget that this whole dreadful day had ever happened.

But an even stronger part of her knew that she could never give up, could never let go, could never give in. Greg was a part of her. He was a big pain in the ass at times, and probably more trouble than he was worth in the long run, but he was still a part of her nonetheless. He was hers, and hers alone! She was damned if she was going to let anyone take him away from her. Not without a fight…

And she was well ready to give them a fight too, if that’s what they wanted. If they wanted to play games, then she’d play games. They’d soon find out that she wasn’t just some doormat to be walked all over. They’d soon find out who and what they were dealing with, make no mistake about that…

She rubbed her sore arm where Greg had grabbed her. Dammit, it really hurts! She thought. He really hurt me this time. He’s got a nerve… Who the hell does he think he is, treating me that way? What gives him the right to… Well, I’ll just have to deal with him later on, that’s all. That can wait. But for right now, I’m going to take care of a certain nosy troublemaker…

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