The Artful (Shadows of the City) (35 page)

All in all, it took me a little less than an hour to reach Barclay’s Center. Guards approached after the car screeched to a halt in front of the entrance. I yelled for Chrysler and pointed to Gia in the back. They didn’t even bother to ask questions; one ran inside while another helped me carry her into the building. By the time we reached the lobby, a number of guards came to help. Some looked at me questioningly, but I paid them no mind. We placed her on top of the reception desk. At this point, she was covered in blood. Before we started the drive, I had tied my sweater tight around her mid-section, using the material to stop the bleeding. She was still breathing, but very lightly. Her eyes occasional flutter open now and then, but her gaze was distant.

“What the hell is going on here?” Chrysler ran into the reception area led by the original guard who had met us outside. Upon seeing Gia, his face dropped, he seemed to be on the verge of screaming when he ran over. “Dear god, what happened to her?” He looked up at me accusingly. “You! You did this!”

“No, I brought her back!” My conscience ate at me, knowing I would have to put the blame on her by lying. “She followed me. I did like you said; I returned the box to Reynolds. But she followed me. We got into a problem with the Angels, and one of them shot her… killed Dodger…”

“I’ll deal with you later.” He frantically looked around until he spotted a well-dressed man running toward us. He wore a fancy suit much like the one Randy had. The man looked panicked and out of breath.

“Steven, call them!” Chrysler demanded.

“But, sir,” Steven said, shifting between confusion and concern.

“But? But nothing! Call them now. This is my daughter! So help me god, if she dies, I will take this whole damned city down with her!”

Steven nodded and ran off.

Chrysler waved the other guards over. “Come on. Let’s get her to the roof.”

“What’s on the roof?” I asked.

“Nothing for you to worry about. You are dismissed, and I would suggest not leaving the premises. I will have words with you later.”

“No! I’m going with her.”

He looked cold and hard at the way I was holding her hand. “Boy, you are lucky I don’t kill you where you stand. Guards help me bring her.” They pushed me away and lifted her gently, while walking over to the elevator. I thought it would be hopeless; there was no way he would let me follow. But Gia started fighting. As far gone as she was, she started struggling against her father and the guards.

“No…”

I could barely hear her. But seeing her hold out her hands toward me was enough for me to fight through the guards back to her side. She clawed at my sleeves, looking for my hands. I held onto her, interlocking my fingers with hers. “Don’t leave me…” she whispered, before closing her eyes again. Chrysler was infuriated, but he nodded and urged everyone to hurry up. The elevator doors finally opened, and we entered.

Chrysler had to use a key to make the roof button active. The elevator took us to the topmost floor. We came out in a small room with one door and two guards posted. Chrysler looked at me. “From here on out, you have to be blindfolded. Don’t worry. You’re safe as long as my little girl is.”

I nodded, one of the guards handed him a black cloth bag, and the two other guards who accompanied us were given the same. We looked at each other, all sharing the same confused look. But I decided not to question and put the bag over my head. Everything went into darkness. I could hear the door open, the breeze of the outside blowing over my skin. We were all led outside in a tight shuffle.

“Where are they?” Chrysler shouted in a panic.

“They are on their way, any minute. Look!” Steven cried. I was fascinated by a whopping sound I remembered from my childhood, back when we had a TV. The motor and spin of helicopter blades. Gushes of wind slammed into us as we all continued walking again. Chrysler was yelling something to Steven, but I couldn’t hear over the roar of engine and the waves of wind hitting my bag-covered face.

I was still holding Gia’s hand when I felt others running around me, and someone pulled her away. I started fighting, but Chrysler whispered closely into my ear, “Don’t worry, they are helping her. Here give me your hand. There is a bit of a step.”

I reached out, and was roughly guided up. My unsteady feet found three steps in front of me, and, before I could feel the air around me change, I was pulled inside. I was pretty sure I was in a helicopter. I don’t know if he finally trusted me or if it was merely for Gia’s sake. But, after I was seated and strapped in, a limp hand was placed in my lap again.

“Please,” he said. “Give her your strength.”

I felt weightlessness in the pit of my stomach. The world was moving around me as the whopping sound began to speed up. We were rising into the air. The helicopter was taking off. And I had no idea where we were going. All my courage came from holding Gia’s hand.

“What you are about to see, you can’t un-see. I will no doubt get in a lot of trouble for bringing you here, but you understand my daughter is more important to me than anything my employers have to say. If you give me any indication that I cannot trust you or I find that you indeed had something to do with her being shot, rest assured that you will meet the highest form of torture before you die. Are we understood?”

I nodded. The mask was taken off, and I was blinded by the white shine of florescent lights. The first thing I saw was Gia, lying on her side. IVs were hooked up from her fragile arms to small bags of liquid hanging from her bed. There was another machine hooked up to her that steadily beeped. Every time it did, a line would run across the screen zigzagging on its way. Three people stood around her―a man dressed in a doctor’s gown, a mask over his mouth, and two nurses, who wore masks as well. One nurse looked me up and down, disgust in her eyes. She held a tray of tools that the doctor kept swapping out. He was digging into Gia’s back with a strange plier-like instrument.

The room was immaculately clean; all the light fixtures worked, casting a dull brightness throughout. There were two more empty beds. Next to them on night stands sat vases of flowers.

“I need you two to wait outside.” The doctor barely looked away from his work. “You are distracting my nurses.”

“Of course.” Chrysler sounded like a scolded child. “Come on.” He opened the door and led me outside into a waiting area. The room was rather large with soft seats all along the walls. A sparkling glass coffee table had a couple of magazines spread out across the top. At a reception desk, another masked nurse sat behind a computer typing away as if we didn’t exist. A large flat-screen TV hung from the wall across from us, and it wasn’t just a fixture―it was on, showing what seemed to be a news report. I sat down, confused as hell. The room was so bright and white, like a complete other world. The brightness and cleanliness was a stark contrast to the monotone grays and filth of the world I was used to. I rested my head in my hands, too dizzy to think straight. Chrysler sat down next to me.

“She’s going to be all right. They know what they are doing. They have the means to help her,” Chrysler told me.

“Where are we? Are we beyond the quarantine zone?” I asked, wondering exactly which side was the quarantined side.

“I can’t say. Remember what I told you. Everything you see here, you are to forget. And better for you if you forget as soon as possible. Once Gia’s condition is improved, we will be returning to Brooklyn.”

“What about me?”

He thought on this for a while, then leaned back and sighed. “I promised you a place in Brooklyn, did I not?”

“What if I don’t want to stay in Brooklyn?”

At this he cracked a smile. “That choice, I believe, has been taken away from you.” He nodded toward the TV, reached for the remote on the coffee table, turning up the volume. An arrogant well-dressed man was sitting behind his desk with a channel-five logo. In the upper corner was a picture of Reynolds. That got my attention, I leaned forward to listen.

“Sources say his medication was switched out with poison by a government assassin; no word yet on which faction employed this assassin. Brooklyn and Queens are currently under heavy suspicion. Standing in for Reynolds until further notice is first lieutenant Stanley Spencer, who has put out a huge bounty on The Gutter Punks, a local city gang. He is urging all of the Manhattan gangs to band together in finding the whereabouts of gang members Dodger, Twist, and Smith. In return for their capture, a place in the Empire State Building is promised. You know what this means, Trish?” The camera panned over to a beautiful blonde twirling her hair in her fingers.

She looked at the camera with magnificent blue eyes and smiled. “It means that those boys are as good as dead.”

The world outside was not only alive and well, they were keeping tabs on us. I was heartbroken by the fact that we knew nothing; that this whole time nobody was looking for a cure outside the quarantine zone. Instead, they were keeping tabs on us as if we were a reality show to entertain the masses.

Chrysler turned the TV off and fidgeted with the remote. “Like I said, you are more than welcome in Brooklyn. Twice you brought my daughter back to me, and you have also done me another favor we shall not speak about here.” He looked over at the receptionist.

“You tricked us!” I wanted to scream, I wanted to shout, to strangle him and run in to see Gia. I wanted her to hold me and tell me everything was going to be all right, and then to leave this place with her and go back home and find Dodger was still alive. I wanted everything to go back to normal. But I knew things would never be normal again.

“It was all a means to an end, and, rest assured, you will be rewarded handsomely for your task.”

“Gia is in there paying for this!”

“Boy, do not try my patience. What had to be done was done. You were reckless to let my child follow you across the city. But she will be fine now. All is well.”

The door opened, and the doctor came out. His coat and latex gloves were covered in spats of blood. He nodded at us. “We got through the rough part, and she is going to recover fine. We just need to patch her up. May I have a word with you in private?”

“Yes, of course.” Chrysler stood. “Listen, young Twist. The world is on the cusp of change, and you are at the center of it all. Rejoice that I let you stand by my side and watch as all the pieces fall into place. But now is not the time to worry about politics and business. Now is only for my daughter.” Before leaving, he threw the television remote into my lap. “Do not leave the waiting area. I’ll be back soon. Watch some TV. Talk to the receptionist if you are hungry or need to use the bathroom.” He patted me on the back like a father would a child who just lost his puppy, and followed the doctor off into the operating room.

I had no desire to watch TV. All I could do was wait and think. I couldn’t return home, but, when I stopped to think of it, what did I have left back in Manhattan? Dodger was gone, and it sunk in. I’d never see my best friend again. He had died taking a bullet for Gia. He did that for me. He was happy for me. She was going to get better, and we’d figure things out together. I would stick with her in Brooklyn until she was a hundred percent, and then we would run away, to that faraway place she always dreamed of, together. I leaned over to put the remote on the coffee table, and a newspaper caught my eye.

The date stood out like a sore thumb―March 28, 2025. Two months after the newspaper clipping the Runts had. Like a zombie, I walked over to the window. The light of day stung my eyes, and I had to cower away from the sun. But it wasn’t enough to chase me away. Outside the window was another world. We were in a high rise, overlooking a busy city street. Cars lazily drove up and down perfect roads. People, so many people, marched about eagerly. So many buildings, all in perfect condition, jutted up toward the heavens, while smaller shops crowded the lower streets. In the sky, clouds lazily floated about, while birds mingled in merry flight. This is what they kept us from; this is what was beyond the quarantine zones… life.