(xliii.)

He needed to get away. His sneakers splashed through the puddles.

They were chasing him with dogs. And guns.

He couldn't afford to get caught.

He slipped into the alleyway, hoping to lose them.

The dogs barked. He heard Louis scream, "there he is! In the alley!"


"Fuck!" he mumbled, venturing further into the alleyway.


They ran into the alley after him. The dogs growled at a few garbage cans, but he was gone.

"Alright, shitfucker! I know you're here!" Chet screamed, as loud as he could. He sighed, heavily. The sulked out of the alleyway.

From his spot, on the fire escape, he tried to catch his breath. He quietly tried to devise a new escape route.

He pulled himself up, and began scaling the fire escape.

"If it weren't for them, this would be so much easier. They... they've fucked up this entire industry."

He tiptoed along the fire escape, going ever higher, until he finally reached the right floor.

He took a crowbar, out of his mesenger bag, and gently slid it under the window. He pried the window open, and slipped inside.

He cautiously closed the window.

The tiny room was dark.

"Look what the cat dragged in."

The light clicked on. Chet sat there, smiling, smoking a cigarette. "Good morning, Brandenbury."

Pierpont froze.

Chet pulled out a pistol, and shot him.


Pierpont found himself lying on the floor, in a cold sweat, and wrapped in all of his bedsheets. He sat up, and looked around.

"...that was a dream... right?"

Muffy leaned over, and looked at him, in his pile of sheets. "Oh, Pierpont, you're awake. Are you okay?"
"What, oh, um. I, uh... I had a nightmare. I think..."

He paused.

"I haven't been shot recently, right? No scary guys wandering around with packs of angry dobermans? No--"
"Pierpont, it's okay. It was a dream."


[chapter xliv.]