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The tattered newspapers wrapped around her sodden feet and legs helped, but not much. Anyway, she'd dropped most of them in her mad dash to lose the fat cop who rousted her out of the only half-sheltered doorway she'd found without some filthy old man in it. Then, after taking a good look at her, he said she would have to go to Child Protective Services. That's when she'd kicked him in his fat butt and run like hell the other direction, wishing only she'd kicked him harder. Child? She sure as hell wasn't a child -- not any more, not ever again. Protective? Sure -- protective. You bet. The first place that bastard would look for her. How the hell were they going to protect her from him? Services? As she hugged herself, shivering uncontrollably in her nylon jacket that was now as soaked and useless as the rest of her clothes, she thought bitterly the only "services" she hoped for now were the ones where they planted his rotten, stinking, perverted body in some rotten, stinking cesspool. Maybe then she'd start to believe in . . . anything. But, God -- she was so cold! Who'd have thought it would snow this hard, this early? If she'd had time to pack something heavier, get some money, maybe even something to eat . . . but he'd been coming for her again, and she just couldn't . . . "Hey, there, sweet thing," came the easy, friendly voice from just behind her, causing a partly stifled scream to be forced from between her chattering teeth as she whirled in terror, unable in the darkened alley to see anything but some vague shape against the moving white curtain of falling snow between her and the street light some twenty yards away. "What's happenin'?" "Who are you? What do you want?" she hissed, wondering if she could again elude an enemy, this one a barely seen male between her and the only exit from . . . "Nothin', sweet lady -- I don't want nothin' from you. I just thought maybe you needed some help. It's cold out here, and you look like you could use a friend." "I've got all the friends I need. Just leave me alone! Get the hell away from me!" she said, trying to sound as if she could take care of herself without any help from anybody. Which she could certainly do, of course. Usually. Sometimes. "Sure thing, baby. Don't want to bother you none. If you don't need nothin', I'll be on my way. Sorry I scared you." And the shadowy figure, both arms outstretched with fingers spread to indicate the peaceful intent of his intrusion, began to move away, fading rapidly in the snow that was now coming down even harder than before, if that was actually possible tonight. She watched to be sure he was really leaving, taking a few tentative steps forward to keep him in sight in an effort to be certain he wasn't just hiding someplace, waiting. Then, suddenly, he was gone, leaving her alone . . . Alone! No! "Hey, mister, wait a minute," she called, breaking into a shuffling trot as she followed the path his feet had made through the snow that was still white and pure, the grit and grime of the city not yet visible. His voice had been kind, hadn't it? I mean, he just had to be nice, didn't he? I mean, didn't she finally deserve a break? And she was so cold, so wet, so hungry . . . so miserable. |