The Joker and the Thief

I rode to a small hotel, which was about a mile from MCU, in the back of a police cruiser. Two detectives, I didn't know their names, occupied the front seats. Together, they escorted me to my room on the fourth floor and explained that one would remain in the lobby and the other at the end of the hall, in view of my room. They would be my protection.

My room was small, which was to be expected for a hotel. The bed was rather large though. The covers were your usual hotel pastel color. The furniture included a small wardrobe, with a television on top, a side table and a lamp. Finally, a small chair was placed in the corner by the window. Next to the chair was a small walk-in closet. The designers had spent a bit more money in the bathroom. The shower walls and floor were composed of green toned slate and a simple clear glass door separated it from the rest of the room.

Laying on the bed was a small, folded pile of clothes. These clothes were new; a simple pair of jeans, a dark blue shirt and a jacket. As soon as the room door shut, and locked, behind me I went straight to the shower. Some how my body had found energy to heal the gunshot wound so it just looked like a rather large bruise. The middle, where the actual hole was, was a dark red color, due to the dried blood and torn muscle. The flesh around the wound was a mixture of green, black and blue. There were other random cuts and bruises covering the rest of my body.

Along with dried blood and pieces of glass, a rather large amount of black dye washed down the drain, from my hair. Even more went down with the shampoo. Apparently, the dyed wasn't permanent. From the shower, I went to the mirror. Not all the black dye had released itself, so my hair was a mixture of black and brown dye and then my natural red roots. After a minute of searching, I found a pair of scissors and went straight to my hair. I first cut away all the dyed parts, leaving only half an inch of red hair.

I then did my best to clean the cut up, making it neater. I was satisfied with the end product, but the shortness and color made me look sickly and pale. I changed into the new clothes, having no intention of sleeping. I left the hair in the sink and dirty clothes on the floor and turned all the lights in the room out before peering out the small eye hole in the door.

Out in the lit hallway was not just the police detective but also two men, each of which I recognized as Chechen's goons. The three were talking causally. My heart dropped. My escape from the hotel was going to be harder than I first planned. Without a second thought, I ran back to the bathroom. I quickly turned the shower on, as hot as it would go, and firmly closed the door on my way out.

By the time I got to my position by the door, the handle was moving, turning. The door opened an inch or two before the chain lock stopped it. I couldn't see but something cut the small chain and the door swung the rest of the way open; further restricting my view. Two figures walked in and went straight around the corner, towards the bathroom. I jumped up from my position behind the door and sprinted into the hallway. The police detective was no longer present.

Unsure of the time I had, I pulled the closest fire alarm, which sprayed my hand with blue ink. Alarms wailed as I ran up the stairs, not down. On the fifth floor, I exited the stairwell and threw myself into the nearest unlocked room, which happened to be a storage closet. A few seconds later, I heard the sound of tired but panicked feet moving down the hall. I imagined weary tourists jogging down the stairs, looking for any signs of a fire.

When silence again appeared in the hallway and the stairwell was empty, I continued up three more floors and onto the roof. I could hear sirens and firetrucks, who were already present down on the street below. Instead of peering down at the street, I went to the alley side of the roof, where a rusty fire escape was present. I took my time climbing down, not trusting the stability of the metal. The second my feet hit the ground, I was running.

Running from safety but also from danger.

Running to what end, I did not know.