Breakdown - 20. 19 Cat And Mouse

Aziel was perched in his lab, hunkered over a flask and swirling the purplish-gray contents. He was only half concentrating on the chemistry, instead thinking over his game. He’d visited Cam last night, taking the whore over the kitchen counter, shooting him up, and then taking him all over again sprawled on his stomach in bed. The encounter itself wasn’t what bothered Aziel, for Cam’s responses had been as predictable as always. Instead, it was the numbers.

What was bothering Aziel was that Cam’s withdrawing of money had briefly sped up at the beginning of the week; he had been taking the maximum amount out of his account each day. Abruptly, during the week, it stopped. Then it started again, resuming its former pace. Something was happening. Aziel again wondered if Cam were buying drugs on the side, and then discarded it quickly.

He wouldn’t be that stupid. Besides, he knew that most of it, if not all of the massive amounts he was taking out, were going into the little duffle bag under the dresser.

Aziel swirled his flask and set it on a cooling rack. He watched the poison settle in the purple-gray haze, trying to get inside of Cam’s head and figure out what he was going to do next. It was entirely possible that he was going to make a run for it, but Aziel wasn’t concerned. He could easily find him, given enough time. Besides, Cam was a layman as far as cat and mouse games went; he would surely leave a paper trail four miles wide that Aziel could follow without bothering to actually try.

Aziel removed his rubber gloves and lab coat, hanging them neatly. Then he checked the hidden peephole to the side of the door for Mark. Finding him nowhere in sight, Aziel exited his lab and locked the door carefully behind him. He had told Mark that he had some work to do, but then he could spend the rest of the day with him.

He walked down to the living room. Mark was sitting on the couch with the TV on, reading a book. He was chewing on his nails as he read the book, his dark hair swirled and messed with sleep. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that Mark didn’t work today. His personal hygiene was the first thing out the window when he had a day off.

“Mark,” Aziel greeted. “Good morning.”

Mark looked up at him, a little cherub with mussed hair and a mouth full of fingernails. He waved with the half of his hand that wasn’t stuck between his teeth.

“Good book?” Aziel asked, sitting down beside him on the couch.

Mark finally took his fingernails from his mouth. “Reasonable,” he said. “There’s this cool little bookstore down on 10th that lets you trade in books. I took a lot of mine down there… some of them go to the Outreach Library, the school for troubled teens.”

Mark set his book aside and moved forward to crawl into Aziel’s lap. Aziel accepted the affection, looping his arms around Mark’s body. He leaned down, kissing the top of his head. While he hadn’t showered, at least he didn’t smell. If anything he smelled like the hair product he had used the other night.

“I love you, Mark,” Aziel whispered.

“Mm,” Mark purred, nuzzling into the assassin’s neck. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Mark,” Aziel whispered again, hugging him more tightly.

“Love you too,” Mark replied, almost dreamily.

They sat together in undisturbed silence for a moment, each enjoying the other’s warm body against his. Aziel gazed out the window, his chin balanced on the top of Mark’s head. Mark was the one who finally broke their mutual, comfortable silence.

“I’m starting to think it was a good thing my old apartment building burned down,” Mark said. Aziel leaned back a little, remembering the conversation. Mark had phoned him from a payphone, in tears because everything he owned had gone up in smoke. Having no family in the city, and nowhere to go except the homeless shelter, he had phoned Aziel, a man that he had gone on two dates with, for help. Out of compassion, Aziel had offered to let him stay in his penthouse.

The fact that Aziel had started the fire in the first place was completely unknown to Mark. Aziel saw it as the means justifying the ends; burning down an entire apartment complex netted him what he wanted; Mark had nowhere else to go.

“This place is certainly nicer than that hole,” Aziel replied without missing a beat.

Mark nuzzled into him and Aziel closed his eyes. When Mark’s hands started to wander, becoming intimate, Aziel didn’t resist him. There was only the soft purr as Mark’s soft hands lightly rubbed along the outside of Aziel’s pants.

“So you’re all mine for the rest of the day?”

“For the rest of my life,” Aziel replied.

Thoughts of Cam could wait.

It was time.

Cameron had pulled out the duffle bag full of money. He had gotten a larger duffle bag and put the small one in the middle of it. He packed around it as many clothes as he could, not knowing when the next time he would be able to do laundry would be. Tears were streaming down his face as he finished packing his favorite sweater into the top of the bag. He looked at the mostly-empty closet, feeling that it was in almost every way a reflection of him.

Cam wiped away the streaming tears from eyes that seemed unable to stop leaking. He threw on his green jacket with the fur collar and pulled his large bag to the kitchen. He was taking a huge risk, leaving all this behind. He was taking the devil he didn’t know over the devil he did. In the kitchen, he pulled out the little cell phone from his pocket. The little plastic demon that had tormented him for so many months…

He would never have to listen to its song again.

The whore lay it down on the counter. He didn’t need to leave a note, wouldn’t dare to anger the devil in such a fashion. The phone itself would be his statement.

Cam had purchased two tickets over the Internet for buses tonight that were heading east. He stood in his kitchen; looking at all the nice things that Aziel had given him and clutching his arm. He squeezed his fingers, bringing out a dull roar of pain from the crook of his elbow. Aziel was bad for him. Whatever good he had done, it was vastly outweighed by the bad.

Cam knew that the next phase of his journey was going to be incredibly difficult. He couldn’t check himself into a drug rehab center, because Aziel would be expecting that. He couldn’t afford that, anyway, not without the rest of the money lurking in his account. He was going to have to do this by himself, for himself. As he thought about it, Cam tightened his fist and let his fingernails bite into his palm. It gave him strength.

Digging through his pockets, Cam came out with a sealed letter for Jared. He checked to make sure that it was properly sealed before hefting up his duffle bag and heading out the door. He didn’t bother to lock the penthouse, having left his keys inside.

The elevator seemed to take forever to get to the bottom floor. Cam figured he had maybe twenty-four hours before Aziel realized that he was missing. Twenty-four hours to get as far away from this place as he possibly could. Having no passport, and no way of getting one, he was limited to the pavement. Not wanting to take the car, he was further limited to the bus. On the way, he dropped the letter to Jared in the mail.

Cam stepped out onto the pavement and took the bus to the bus station. He boarded the bus without looking back. He checked his luggage and sat against the window. His hands were shaking, so he clasped them in his lap tightly.

“Good bye, Aziel,” he whispered.

Thirty-six hours later, the little plastic demon on the counter in the penthouse leapt to life. It rang five times before the voicemail picked up, and silence again reigned in the darkened penthouse.

Aziel hung up the phone with an irritated scowl. The battery was still live, otherwise it would have automatically picked up in voicemail. Annoyed, Aziel drove to the penthouse. If Cam were in the shower, or perhaps had run down to do laundry that was forgivable. But something told Aziel that wasn’t the case. Cam’s withdrawals from the bank had ceased again…

The journey up the elevator was quick. He went to unlock the door to the penthouse, but found it already unlocked. Now curious, Aziel advanced slowly into the apartment. Everything was still and dark. Save for a flashing light on the counter.

The cell phone. One missed call.

Aziel picked it up and looked at it. With a snarl, he threw it into the kitchen sink and then jogged down to the bedroom. He tore the dresser away from the wall, finding that the little duffle bag full of money was missing.

Standing in the dark bedroom, Aziel forced himself to calm down and think rationally. Okay, so Cam had taken off. That was all fine and good; this just meant that the game had changed. First, Aziel was going to check the records on his account and his credit card, hoping that the little bastard hadn’t paid with cash for his bus ticket.

Aziel walked to the closet and took up the loose corner of carpet that was there. He opened a locked trapdoor and pulled out a smaller version of his blue duffle bags. He set it on the floor and unzipped it. Inside were a small, sleek laptop, the power cable, and two handguns with extra ammunition. He took out the laptop and plugged it in. A few moments for the wireless to connect…

The assassin sat on the floor of the brown bedroom, typing in commands to his little laptop. He brought up the purchase records from Cam’s credit card, and then cross-referenced them to bus tickets available from the station he had bought from. There were two buses that were the most likely; both going to the same place, one just three hours after the other. The second ticket he purchased was a transfer ticket. He looked at the time of purchase, and decided that because it was a purchase made over the Internet, Cam couldn’t have made it to the station in time to catch the earlier one.

Aziel dismantled his laptop and put everything back in the little blue duffle bag. He tucked the corner of the carpet back down and walked outside.

He smiled to himself as he got into the car. He knew where Cam was headed; it was only a matter of time before he found him. Cam would want to finish his schooling, so the first logical place to look would be any of the Outreach schools. It would take him a week, at the very best, to track him down.

Then Cam would find out what kind of repercussions were associated with this kind of activity…

Jared,

You have been an excellent friend to me in times when I thought I was going to lose myself. I will always remember you, even if I never see you again.

This is an abrupt good bye, but it is absolutely necessary. I can’t tell you where I’m going, and I’ll probably never be back.

Good-bye.
Don’t forget me.
--Cam