The man who had stopped her was normal-looking. A bit boring, even. Evan had never seen him before, and even if he had he doubted he would have recognized him. Brown eyes. Brown hair, thinning a bit at the temples and receding a bit along the forehead. And that was the sum total of the man’s physical attributes. Brown on brown, boring on boring. Nothing to hold to mentally, nothing to remember.
He wore a black coat, and it was memorable. It was long and voluminous, seeming to flow like a living thing around the man’s body, pulling light into it and giving nothing in return.
“Let go of me,” said Listings again.
The man smiled. Boring smile. And Evan saw his eyes change. Not in size or shape, but where they had been empty before, now they were full of something terrifying. Madness.
“No,” said the man.
“I said, let go!”
Evan was moving, but again he was too slow. The instant he heard the man speak, heard him say, “No,” he knew that this was the man he had spoken to on the phone. This was the man he had been looking for tonight.
But Listings was faster again. Faster, and too fast, and not fast enough.
She swung at the man, a quick cross with her free hand.
And for the second time tonight, she missed.
The man ducked. Spun her around.
Bright light glinted. Evan had his gun out, but the brightness froze him. It wasn’t the brightness of a light being shone, but of something reflective. Something sharp.
The man had a knife at Listings’ throat. And it was so sharp it grabbed the dim light of the bar and slashed it into a million glinting pieces.
“Don’t move!” Evan shouted.
The man grinned. “Or what?” he said. He pressed on the knife. Not too hard, but even the light pressure made blood well around the blade and drip down Listings’ neck. “You’ll kill me?” He giggled. “How do you kill a man who’s already dead?”
Evan didn’t have time to digest the weirdness of that. Listings’ eyes rolled as though she was mostly irritated with the whole situation. “Shoot him, White.”
“Shut up, Listings,” said Evan. To the man he said, “You’re the one who called me?”
The man smiled. A boring smile, a banal smile. The mad, mundane smile of any of a million people who go about their lives quietly each day hoping no one will notice how close they are to breaking. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to,” he said.
Evan wondered if anyone had called 9-1-1. In this part of town, in a bar like this, he figured the chances were about even. Not good odds. “What do you want?” he said, as much to stall as anything.
Tears welled up in the other man’s eyes. His lower lip quivered, and Evan thought he might have killed his partner with his question.
“For it to end,” said the man.
The jukebox clicked. Listings had chosen “You Spin Me Round” too many times to count, and now the song was ending. Evan was gripped by the sudden belief that if the song she had chosen ended before he got her free, she would die.
The song was over.
Another began. And whether it was because Listings had pre-programmed it, or because of some cosmic joke, the same song started again.
Evan had completely forgotten about the drunk, still laying at the base of the bar, at Listings’ feet. It seemed like the ridiculous spat with him had happened a lifetime ago. Now his attention went back to the man, if only for a moment. The big guy groaned as the music started again.
The man who held Listings hostage laughed. The same laugh Evan had heard on the phone before, the same laugh that had been pulling his brain apart, pulling apart his memories and laying him bare.
“I really don’t think he likes this tune,” said the madman. Then, to the drunk, he said, “I’ve been watching you, Ken. You’re a rude pig.”
The madman moved. He was fast. Faster than Listings, and also… something else. Something more.
Something that terrified Evan.
The man’s foot moved. Ken screamed, a single shouted “NO!” that was still too slow and then there was a nauseating crunch that was not bone breaking.
The madman moved back, and now the drunk was clawing at his throat. The downed man’s mouth opened and closed, opened and closed, but no sound came out. Just a high-pitched whistle that made Evan’s skin writhe.
He stepped toward the drunk, knowing he had to do something, not know what that could be.
And Listings seized the moment. She spun away from the madman, a blur as she moved out of range. The man slashed out, his knife seeking her neck, but she seemed to flow under it, grabbing her throat, blood around her fingers.
She came to her knees next to Evan.
“Listings!”
“I’m okay,” she gasped. “Just a scratch. Look out!”
Evan wasn’t Listings-fast, but he did all right. And in this case he was glad because it saved him from being gutted. The madman had followed Listings as she rolled, and now he slashed at Evan, who moved away in time to avoid evisceration but not fast enough to completely escape injury. Heat seared across his stomach and he heard his shirt rip. Blood rolled over the waist of his pants.