Episode 025

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            “Woman is the emissary of Hell.”

Teisetsu Kyokua, Onna Shikimaku

 

 

            “The biggest clue we have, actually, is from the chase last night,” Everett explained to Morgan as well as Edgar.  “This guy clearly wouldn’t have been able to last with either me or Sydney on a straight away or even a sprint, but he was able to keep ahead because he’s got some serious Parkour training.”

            “Okay, refresh my memory,” Edgar said, rubbing his face as if suffering from a vicious headache all in one place.  “Which one is Parkour and which one is free-running?”

            “Parkour is to free-running what Krav Maga is to Capoeria,” Morgan commented, finishing off his soda.

            “They’re both semi-acrobatic techniques used to clear obstacles,” Everett said.  “The philosophy behind Parkour is that you have three ways to address a conflict; negotiation, fight, or flight.  Psychology covers negotiation, more or less, martial arts covers fighting.  Parkour covers running away.”

            “Or pursuit,” Morgan interjected.

            “Free-running is kind of the snazzy, flashy form of Parkour,” Everett went on.  “It’s a little less functional, but a lot more impressive.  It’s basically Parkour with flips and turns added in.”

            “If he’s got training in Parkour, then he has to study somewhere,” Morgan said.  “Odds are, in order to avoid standing out, he belongs to a gymnastics school.  They’re usually the places that teach Parkour and free-running.  What else you got?”

            “He uses a rapier,” Everett went on.  “And he’s trying to amass equipment for any situation.  He had a utility belt and when Sydney and I chased him, he bungeed off a three-story building using department store-brand bungee cords that were jury-rigged together.”

            “He’s also got balls if he trusted to K-mart’s quality,” Morgan mildly exclaimed.  “Jesus, he’s nuts.”

            “Never get into a fight with a man crazier than you,” Edgar remarked.

            “I thought it was argue,” Everett asked.

            “Fight, argue, it works for a lot of things.”

            “Anyway, I’m not sure what the deal is with the mask,” Everett continued.  “It’s got elements of a spray painter’s mask, but with some definite sci-fi additions.  It’s probably homemade, but in the low light, I couldn’t tell what parts of what he used to make it.”

            Morgan listened, a troubled expression growing across his brow.  He looked around the mall food court cautiously out of habit.  Almost startling him, his eyes settled on the woman.  In the black t-shirt and jeans, she stood at the far end of the open space, watching the people as if waiting for someone.  “Guys, hold up,” he said, standing.

            “Where’s he going?” Edgar asked, he and Everett watching.

            Morgan rose and began towards the woman.  She didn’t notice him until he was halfway to her.  When her eyes settled on his, he stopped entirely.  The icy blue eyes stared back at him with a feral determination.  Morgan felt his body unconsciously ready for a fight, but she turned.  She moved quickly towards the exit of the food court through the small inner-mall alley.  Morgan rushed to follow her, making for the door.  He threw it open, Edgar and Everett leaving the food behind to follow him.

            Through the door, a long, narrow hallway made up of thick cinder blocks towered several stories high, metal scaffolding obscuring the ceiling.  “Where’d she go?” Everett asked as the door closed behind him and Edgar.

            Morgan tilted his head and closed his eyes.  He sniffed the air, walking forward.  “I smell a rose,” he whispered to himself.  He followed the scent to a fork in the path.  To the right, the hallway curved back along the rear of the food court restaurants, while to the right, the path headed away adjacently.  He turned to the right and dashed forward.

            “Do you know who this woman is?” Everett yelled.

            “Not a clue,” Morgan called back, shooting down the hall.

            “Do you think she’s in trouble?” Edgar asked from his right.

            “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

            The path came to a sudden stop before a loading deck door.  Morgan looked at the floor, seeing disrupted dust on the ground.  He looked at Everett and Edgar, both stepping back without a word.  Morgan placed his hand against the metal door and pushed it open slowly.

            Outside, the concrete loading dock was empty.  In an alcove building into the mall, several loading docks met in this one space.  But each of the doors at the docks were shut, their handleless form showing no signs of disruption or use.

            Morgan stepped out onto the dock as the door behind him opened, Edgar following him out with Everett behind.  In the empty space, the cloudless sky overhead made the distant parking lot shimmer and shift in the heat.

            Morgan put his hand on one of the concrete mini-pillars built into the dock, thinking.  “Where’d she disappear to?” he asked.

            “Well, it looks like she left you a clue,” Everett remarked.  Morgan followed Everett’s gaze to see a red scarf tied around one of the mini-pillars.  Dumbfounded, Morgan untied it, smelling the fragile scarf.  The same scent of roses filled his perception.

            “Well, it’s just one mystery after another, isn’t it?” Edgar joked.  Looking out at the larger world beyond, Morgan was too entranced to retort.

 
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