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  Sam watched the kid as he half-ran, half-staggered toward the intersection. He wasn’t slowing down and as soon as Sam realized what was happening, she picked up her own pace, hoping she would get to him before it was –

  Too late. The kid staggered forward into Greenwich Avenue – and directly into the path of an on-coming city bus. The screech of the large vehicle’s brakes rang through the air, but it was far too close to the kid to stop. The bus hit him, the impact launching the kid into the air and tossing him like a rag doll into the center of the intersection.

  Traffic reacted immediately, delivery trucks and taxis swerving, other vehicles coming to a noisy halt where they were, some blocking parts of the intersection.

  Pedestrians reacted as well, some screaming, returning to the curbside while others simply froze in place, craning their necks to try to glimpse what could be seen of the accident, the victim and whatever else.

  Sam held up her badge as she pushed her way through the gathering crowds. She could understand human curiosity, but these people made her sick sometimes. With no thought of actually helping in any constructive way, they blocked police and ambulances and fire rescue vehicles then complained that not enough was done.

  Sam broke through the crowd and into the intersection, her breath catching as she saw the accident scene for the first time.

  The kid was a mangled mess, his body contorted at odd and unnatural angles, broken and bleeding. The right side of his head, crushed. His entire right side - shoulder, hip, arm, leg – was a series of closed and open fractures. His left was not much better, with brush burns, bruising and scratches from the pavement, his clothing torn and tattered.

  The sound of sirens grew louder as the vehicles drew nearer to the scene. Sam knelt beside the kid. “Geez, kid, why didn’t you stop?” She reached out, carefully taking his wrist to check for a pulse, allowing that the kid looked as if he was already dead. She positioned her index and middle finger on his wrist and searched for any signs of life.

  Suddenly, the kid moved, grabbing her wrist and struggling to speak. “M...m...”

  “The ambulance is on its way, just try to stay calm.” Sam started to let go of his wrist, but the kid grabbed her hand, clutching at her jacket. “M... man...”

  “Slow down, okay? What man?” Sam watched the kid struggling to speak. The kid closed his eyes briefly, trying to catch his breath. He opened his eyes again and they widened, filled with fear.

  She had seen that look before, that confrontation with death that could only have one ending, and she held on to the kid’s hand firmly. It may be small comfort, but it was something.

  The kid looked at her, his gaze intent, as he gathered his words for one last time. “Man... in black.” He turned his head, a slow, deliberate move, and focused his gaze on a spot across the intersection on the opposite corner.

  People crowded the corner opposite them, all struggling to see what they could of the accident. Fear and excitement were there in their facial expressions, their posture. The eagerness at the suffering of others was disgusting and at the same time, so human. The faces all blended together as Sam scanned the crowd, all... except for one.

  A tall man, clad completely in black, stared back at Sam. At least, it looked like he was staring back at her since dark sunglasses hid his eyes from view. A dark hood was pulled up over his head, giving him a mysterious appearance, like a medieval assassin or something. Sam stared him down for what seemed like an eternity. There was something strangely familiar about him, in his stance and the atmosphere that seemed to surround him, that set him apart from the crowd.

  The kid coughed and gurgled, the sounds pulling Sam’s gaze away from the hooded man. Amid a final moist exhalation, the kid expired. Sam looked up again, searching for the hooded man in the crowd... with no luck.

  7TH Avenue South, off Greenwich Avenue

  The blue Ford Escape sat just off Greenwich Avenue on 7th Avenue South. Its lone occupant leaned forward on the steering wheel and watched the scene unfolding before him in the intersection. Lenny Jackson frowned slightly as he focused in on the woman kneeling over the accident victim. Sammy, Sammy, Sammy... what the hell? He leaned back, glancing up at his reflection in the rear-view mirror, his hand instinctively reaching up to smooth one of the lines of black braids that stretched back along his scalp. Julissa did a damn good job with the cornrows this time... Damn good. He smiled at his reflection. Maybe this hairdressing jones she had would work out for them, after all.

  A fire rescue vehicle blazed by the car and Lenny quickly looked away from the mirror, his attention returning to the scene and Sam. He watched as the paramedics rushed in to work on the victim and Sam stood, backing away several steps before turning and walking toward the curb in his direction.

  Lenny quickly grabbed his sunglasses from the sun visor above him and slipped them on as he got out of the car. He headed toward Sam, weaving his way around the curious onlookers gathered on the urban island formed by the intersection of Greenwich Avenue, 7th Avenue South and West 12th Street.

  One passer-by bumped into his shoulder and Lenny whirled, ready to call him out. The tall man was walking fast, the bottom edges of his black duster flapping. He was already too far away to make engaging him worthwhile. Lenny scowled behind his glasses.

  “Hey, partner, you’re supposed to be on leave.”

  Sam glanced around at the slender African American man approaching her. Detective Leonidas Jackson had become something of a legend in Narcotics in the three years he’d been a detective. Barely in his mid-thirties, he didn’t seem old enough to have seen what he’d seen and done what he’d done. To reach detective ranking in narcotics so young was impressive, to be a senior detective to Sam’s junior ranking was almost unheard-of. They were the youngest partnership in the department and the most successful.

  Sam threw him an innocent look, struggling to keep from smiling as she replied. “I am. Why, can’t you tell?”

  Lenny’s eyebrows shot up, nearly disappearing into his hairline. “Oh, yeah. This seems a little strenuous for rehab, don’t you think?”

  Sam shook her head. “Eh, not really. Hey, why did they call you anyway?”

  “They didn’t. I was on my way home when I heard the call over the radio. Thought I’d see if you were in trouble.”

  Sam’s mouth dropped open in dramatically feigned shock. “Lenny, when am I ever in trouble? Don’t answer that.”

  Lenny chuckled, looked over as a dark brown sedan pulled to a stop. Two rotund detectives, both in cheap suits, climbed out of the car and began their journey to the accident scene. Lenny caught the glint of something shiny and glanced down: Sam was still carrying her Lorcin, the weapon still in her hand.

  Lenny looked up to see how close the detectives were to them; there was still time... “Hey, you’d better hide that piece unless you want to lose it.”

  Sam followed his gaze toward the approaching detectives and quickly re-holstered her weapon, smoothly covering the move by adjusting her boot and pant leg. They watched as one of the detectives peeled away and walked toward the accident scene while the other continued heading their way.

  Detective Mark Adams had been part of the Robbery Division for nearly two decades, first in Brooklyn and then at the 6. Too long, he thought as he looked at the fresh young narcos waiting for him on the street corner, a frown clouding his face. He’d put in his papers to retire twice already, only to pull back at the last minute.

  He told his wife, his friends, even himself, it was because he needed the money, wanted to get the best pension possible, but the truth was he was afraid. Afraid of that first day not on the job, nothing to do, nowhere to go, the beginning of the end. He slowed up as he stepped onto the curb. Adams frown faded a little as Sam and Lenny held up their badges in identification. He looked between the two, his gaze settling on Lenny, recognizing him as the senior member of the pair.

  “Detective Jackson from the five, this is Detective Karolyi.”

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p; Adams pointed to the badge pinned to his lapel. “Adams, Robbery from the six.” He turned to Sam. “Heard your name over the radio. What happened?”

  Sam gestured toward the center of the intersection where the kid was strapped to a stretcher by paramedics. “The kid held up the bodega on Sixth. We struggled in the store. He ran, I pursued.”

  Adams watched as the paramedics began wheeling the stretcher in their direction. “You ran him into the street?”

  “Well, not intentionally. There was a lot of traffic, it’s not like he couldn’t see it. I don’t know why he didn’t stop.”

  Adams motioned to the paramedics to stop briefly. “All right, Detective, you’ll need to – “

  “File a report, yeah, I know.” She watched Adams look down at the remains of the kid, willing herself not to look again. She had seen worse, much worse, but for some reason Sam really felt sorry for this one.

  Adams wrinkled his nose as he surveyed the body. “Damn, what a mess. How fast was that bus going?” He motioned for the paramedics to move on before he turned back to Sam. “He say anything before he bit it?”

  Sam hesitated, took a deep breath before answering. “No. Nothing.” Adams grunted, turned and walked away to rejoin his partner by the nearest hot dog stand.

  “He said something.”

  Sam glanced at her partner briefly before she turned and walked toward 7th Avenue South. Lenny followed close behind.

  “He did, didn’t he? Sam?”

  “I have to get back to the hospital, Ivan is there and...”

  “Tell me what he said, and I will drive you there myself.”

  Sam stopped, turned to face her partner. “And drive me and Ivan back home?” She hated to raise the wager, especially since Lenny had been on his way home when he stopped in the first place. However, the opportunity to get Ivan home in a car rather than trying to navigate rush-hour subways was too much to resist.

  She waited for Lenny to weigh the proposal, especially considering what happened the last time he and Ivan rode in a vehicle together. That occasion had been following a doctor’s appointment uptown and, long-story-short, after that experience neither man wanted to hear the other’s name for nearly two months. Sam could see the struggle on Lenny’s face, his curiosity doing battle with his memory.

  Curiosity won. “Okay, Sam, but I am not changing the radio station to suit him. If Snoop Dogg is on, then Snoop Dogg is on.”

  Sam nodded her acceptance and the two walked toward the SUV. “I don’t think he calls himself that anymore.”

  “Well, I don’t care what he chooses to call himself, he has been and ever shall be Snoop fuckin’ Dogg!”

  The two got into the SUV, shutting out the city as they closed the doors. Sam basked in the silence for a moment, glancing back at the familial debris in the backseat area. Food wrappers, animated DVD covers, coloring books, action figures, and Julissa’s cosmetology schedule... average American family, without question. Sometimes she envied Lenny that accomplishment, one that she had not taken the opportunity to have yet.

  “He said ‘the man in black.’ It may not mean anything... Thing is, I saw someone, a man over on the corner. A man in black.”

  Lenny was silent for a moment, the expression on his face sober. “There was a murder last night in the Bowery. I was on the scene earlier today. Empty syringes... figured it was just a drug deal gone bad. Sam, the vic was gutted. Everything out, his shit was all over the place. Literally. The only witness saw a man in black leave the alley. Said he was like a shadow.”

  Sam nodded, “Sounds right. Who was the witness?” The soft chiming ring of her cell phone sounded, gradually increasing in volume as the notes repeated.

  Lenny hesitated, wincing slightly at the answer he had to give. “Our old buddy Franco.”

  “Oh, well, he’s a reliable source, isn’t he?” Sam rolled her eyes as she pulled out her phone to answer it.

  “Hello? – Yes, this is Detective Karolyi. – Yes, he’s my grandfather. – Wait, what? – How is that even possible? – I’ll be right there. – I. Will. Be. Right. There.”

  Lenny watched as his partner closed her phone, pocketing it and sitting in silence for a moment. He was almost afraid to ask but knew that he had to. “What’s wrong?”

  Sam took a deep breath, her lips pressed tightly together. “That was the hospital. My grandfather is not there.”

  “Where is he?”

  Sam’s mouth twitched slightly before she continued. Lenny had seen this before, had seen it the night of the accident, the night that Sam fell. The young woman was just barely containing her rage.

  “They don’t know. They lost my grandfather.”

  Having spent two hours in a vehicle with the old man, Lenny could completely understand someone wanting to lose Ivan, but he bit his tongue. “Lost him?”

  “Yeah, they said he decided to go home. They followed him and, by the time they got outside, he was gone.”

  “Damn, he can’t move that fast.”

  Sam popped open the door, lowered one leg as she partially got out of the SUV. “Exactly, they malfunction and now he’s out and alone and it will be dark soon.” She hopped out onto the curb and shut the door behind her.

  Lenny quickly hit the power windows, completely lowering the passenger side. “You want a ride?”

  Sam shook her head, smiling. “This is faster. Thanks, Len.” Before he could make any reply, she took off at a run, dashing across West 12th Street and disappearing on the other side.

  3

  THE WARM DIMNESS OF twilight had passed, and darkness had settled over Battery Park, wrapping it in a peace and quiet so rarely seen and experienced in the rest of the city.

  Ivan shuffled along, passing bench after bench. He was a man on a mission, a mission to get home before...

  The clatter of cans and debris drew his attention toward the thicker brush away from the walkway. He slowed, listening, but the silence soon returned, save for the sounds of traffic on surrounding streets.

  Ivan resumed shuffling along and began to hum. “Stardust” had been one of his wife’s favorite songs, God rest her soul until HE got there, and he still found it a comfort to hum when times were tough, or he felt particularly...

  There... what was that? Ivan quieted his hum to a barely audible drone and continued along at the same pace. His eyes scanned the wooded areas nearby and ahead to see if anyone was on the pathway before him. Nothing.

  He picked up the pace as best he could – Damn my old bones! – And began to hum again, louder, occasionally a few words making their way in.

  Suddenly, Ivan went quiet and stopped cold. He didn’t turn around, but stayed very still, his eyes darting to the right and then the left in a vain attempt to see peripherally what was behind him. The lamppost near him barely illuminated the pathway let alone the green areas on the sides, but he still tried to see who was coming, or what.

  Ivan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Pulling himself up straighter, he opened his eyes, the glow of resignation lighting them, resignation and a certain peace. He opened his mouth partially and took a deep breath in, the sound of the air running over his teeth and tongue loud and sharp. He slowly exhaled, his nose twitching slightly as if he were sniffing the air.

  A low rumbling sound began somewhere behind him. If Broadway had been closer, he might have said it was a truck of some kind. But Broadway wasn’t that close... and this rumble was getting closer.

  “I know you are here. I have known for some time.”

  The rumbling grew harsher, more like a growl. The lamplight flickered. Ivan looked up at the lamppost and smiled softly as the light blinked one final time before blinking out completely.

  A large dark shape emerged from the bushes across the pathway. It growled as it moved forward toward the old man.

  In the darkness, it was difficult to see how close the creature truly was, and Ivan steeled himself, prepared for the attack at any moment. It wouldn’t take much, not at his ag
e. He was ready, no worries in that regard, but he did hate to leave Samantha so unprepared... unprepared for what she may soon face...

  The clouds parted and the soon-to-be full moon peeked through, casting the park in moonlight. The dark figure stopped briefly to look up at the moon. Even in the moonlight it was difficult to differentiate details, but some sense of its shape could be seen.

  There it was: the shoulders, broad and well-muscled; the ears, pointed and erect; the wolf-like muzzle gazing up toward the glowing orb in the sky. Tiny hairs glimmered in the moonlight, casting a frosty sheen over its obviously unclothed body.

  Ivan watched the creature look up at the moon; there was something gentle, peaceful, almost loving in the way it gazed up. Moments passed, moments that seemed to go on forever. The clouds slowly rolled back in, dimming the moonlight to practically nothing at all.

  The mood passed, and the creature turned toward Ivan, the low rumble beginning again as it started to creep toward him.

  Ivan crossed himself and prayed a silent prayer. Not for himself, no, but for them. For those who would carry on after he was gone from this world.

  He stood tall, pulling his shoulders back and bringing himself up to his full height. It wasn’t about intimidation... he had long since become too little of a threat for that to work. It was about dying well. He had watched so many deaths in his lifetime. People he knew, people he loved, people he did not.

  He had seen people die screaming, crawling on the ground, begging for help, for peace. He had seen people die peacefully, asleep in their beds, surrounded by accomplishment, by loved ones. When he was in Auschwitz, he had seen more than his share of death. So many lives ended, so many lives wasted.

  He would lie on his bed, a makeshift pallet on the floor, and pray that God would give him the strength when his time came to die well. Pain was nothing; fear, nothing. To die well, everything.

  God had not taken him then. It was many years after the liberation before Ivan understood why he had been chosen to live on, to have a family, to make a life. He thought about Sam again... and smiled.