CHAPTER 23 ~ RESOLVED

“This isn’t smart, Jace,” Catherine remarked as she descended the stairs. “My boss knows I’m investigating you. He knows I’m researching whether your building might have an alternate exit into the subways. And, he’s expecting to see me back at the office tonight.” She paused her steps and turned to look at him. “If I don’t get there soon, you will be the first person he looks at for my whereabouts.”

“Perhaps,” Jace replied with a slight smile. “Then again, perhaps not.”

Catherine worried about what that comment meant. She watched Red and Suki share a confused glance, unseen by Jace behind them.

“Keep going, Cathy.” Jace thrust his chin out, gesturing for her to continue down the stairs.

When they reached the bottom, Red lit a lantern hanging from a nail in the wall, then took it down. He pushed past Catherine and opened a door, stepping into the frame to keep it open, his hand which gripped the lantern extending into the tunnels beyond. Suki prodded Catherine in the back to get her through the entrance.

After everyone crossed the threshold, Red closed the door and took the lead through the subterranean corridor. Catherine, following Red and tailed closely by Suki, made a mental note of her surroundings, picking landmarks to track back up, given the chance. Red’s lantern did little to light the way along a path cutting through the detritus, old furniture, and broken building materials littered around, though some light from basements diffused hazily through the space.

“So, this is how you’ve done it,” Catherine called to Jace, who brought up the rear. “This corridor leads to the subway lines, right? I’m guessing you hid your costume for playing vigilante down here?”

“Smart lady,” Jace answered. “I still contend that saving people from assault doesn’t make anyone a psychopathic monster.”

“I still say ripping kids to pieces instead of just stopping their bad behavior does,” retorted Catherine. “As does killing anyone when it isn’t necessary.”

“So, when he killed those men for you a few weeks ago, it was necessary?” challenged Jace.

“I already told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” maintained Catherine. “Springing a question on me won’t change that.”

“And continuing to claim that won’t stop me from knowing you’re lying,” Jace rejoined. “We’re almost there, Cathy. Then we’ll see who knows what.”

Soon after, Red stopped near a semi-clear spot, hanging the lantern on the wall. Catherine looked around, walking just beyond him. While Suki paused beside Red, Jace followed Catherine.

“Cozy, isn’t it?” Jace asked.

“Not the word I’d choose,” Catherine returned, remembering Vincent’s warm, clean, well-lit chamber. She stared defiantly up at Jace.

“Watch her,” Jace told Red and Suki, his eyes on Catherine.

Catherine watched him walk past her, disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel.

Suki stepped up to Catherine, letting her gaze run over her, sizing her up.

Catherine, trying to downplay the tension, turned toward them, saying, “So… how about those Mets?” When they simply stared at her, she twisted to see where Jace disappeared to, then began talking to them.

“Jace is making a big mistake,” Catherine said. “He’s gotten carried away believing his own hype and now he’s only making things worse.” They continued to stare; she spelled it out for them. “And you two are complicit, being aware and providing his alibis. My boss knows you’re involved. That means you’re looking at charges as accessories.” Red and Suki glanced at each other, then Red turned away. Catherine’s anger grew. “Do you really want to have this hanging over you for the rest of your lives? Being wanted in connection to these murders?” She watched them share a look. “If you let me go, I can help you. You must know that this needs to stop, before anyone else gets hurt. Talk to him. Tell him to put an end to this before it’s too late.” They continued ignoring her. Their self-detrimental stubbornness shocked Catherine. “Please. He’ll listen to you. If he doesn’t, he’ll destroy himself and –”

* * *

The music wound to a close; Vincent lifted his book, looking at the binding. He heard the final notes, the audience applause, then turned back toward the egress threshold. Stepping off the bridge onto the cut stone ledge at the tunnel mouth, he heard Catherine’s voice float around him.

“Talk to him…” Vincent heard Catherine say. He spun around taking a few steps back to the place where he heard her. Her voice echoed around him again, “… he’ll listen to you. If he doesn’t, he’ll,” Vincent dropped the book near the entrance as he ran for her, her voice continuing, “destroy himself and all –”

He knew where she was, and he knew who had her.

* * *

“– all the good he’s done,” Catherine implored Suki and Red. Red stepped close, taking a turn staring down on Catherine as she continued, “He’ll betray the trust of the people who believe in him. Good people, like Isaac.” Red turned his back, walking away as Catherine said, “This has gone too far! You’ve got to help me reason with him!”

Suki looked over Catherine’s shoulder, nodding for her to look as well.

Catherine turned around; Jace approached, disguised as the slasher.

“Jace?” Catherine said. “Jason.” This time his name came out in a whisper.

“Tell me,” Jace said, his voice deeper and rougher than usual.

“No,” Catherine softly replied, her fear increasing until she was sure Vincent felt it. “Jason… you promised no one would get hurt.”

“Jace would never have hurt you,” he replied.

Referring to himself in the third person destroyed Catherine’s belief that he would leave her unharmed and made her fear skyrocket.

* * *

Nearing Catherine’s location, Vincent sensed her fear markedly increase. The vigilante Catherine hunted had terrified her, made her fear for her life. His inner self roared in rage at the villain endangering his Catherine.

* * *

Suki grabbed Catherine’s arm, twisting it painfully, attempting to make Catherine talk.

“Don’t be stupid!” Suki commanded. “Tell him!”

Catherine winced but said nothing. Jace raised his claws to Catherine’s jaw. She whimpered in terror, tipping her head away; his claws followed, pressing against her skin. Catherine tried backing away; Suki held her in place.

Suddenly everyone turned toward the other end of the corridor when Vincent’s angry roars reverberating off the tunnel walls announced his entrance. He stopped just inside the opening between corridor divisions.

Jace dropped his cloak, abandoning Catherine and leaping at Vincent with a fancy flip, his feet aimed at Vincent’s chest. Vincent ducked, spinning to face Jace, who landed behind him. Jace took a fighter’s stance; Vincent adopted a defensive posture. When Jace swiped his claws, Vincent turned, deflecting the blow, then pivoted back with a powerful backhand. Jace, knocked backwards across the tunnel, hit the wall beside the door between sections and crumpled to the floor.

While Suki was distracted watching Jace and Vincent, Catherine took advantage of it, grabbing Suki and driving her knee into the smaller woman’s gut. She then flung Suki to the ground in a spin that threw off her balance. Suki hit her head and passed out.

Red’s eyes never left Vincent, considering him the bigger threat. When Vincent spun to face them at the sound of Catherine fighting, Red prepared to combat him. When he yelled a battle cry, Vincent roared back. His ferocity was more than Red wanted to take on alone; he turned and ran away into the darkness at the other end of the corridor.

Jace, seeing Catherine quickly defeat Suki and Red running scared from Vincent, rose from the floor and ran the other way, deeper into the tunnels, hoping to find an escape.

When Vincent heard Jace flee, he turned and pursued him.

Catherine took a few steps after them, then stopped, certain she would not be able to keep up, or help if she did. She returned to Suki, gathering her purse from where Suki had dropped it. As she searched for something to tie Suki’s hands, the other woman roused, sitting up and eyeing Catherine.

“Why?” Catherine asked, staying well out of Suki’s reach, though disbelieving that Suki would try anything else. “Why did Jace push for this?”

Suki frowned, saying, “He told us he wanted an alliance. That he hoped… that guy would help us protect some of the innocents from criminals attacking them.”

“But when that thing came in here roaring,” Red snapped, stepping out from his hiding place in the shadows, “Jace probably figured he had to attack before it killed us all.”

“Don’t you see how far Jace has fallen?” Catherine beseeched them. “He’s killing people who don’t need it. He attacked a police officer. And whatever he told you, just now he attacked unprovoked. He took a flying leap at a man several feet away from him. A man just standing there. There was no discussion, no reasoning; Jace just attacked. I bet Jace guessed I was closing in on him, that I had found a way to link him to the slasher attacks. I bet his plan was to murder me, then deflect the blame off himself by murdering and framing an innocent man.”

“You call that a man?” Red sneered.

Catherine stared into his eyes, declaring, “He’s more of a man than either Jace or you. He would never behave in such a merciless fashion. And with what you two and Jace have done, you’ve cost yourselves everything. You can never go back. If you stay in New York, you’ll be found and prosecuted for those vigilante murders. No matter where you go, you’ll be sought in connection with them. You won’t even be able to use your own names without being found. Was it worth it?”

Red and Suki glared at her, Red helping Suki to her feet.

“Come on,” Red said to Suki. “Let’s get out of here.”

Catherine watched them go, knowing she could not stop them, then found a place to sit and wait for Vincent’s return, praying it would happen soon. She glanced at her watch, hoping Joe would not be too worried by her delay.

* * *

Jace ran through the sections of linked basements – full of construction materials, discarded furniture, pipes, and wires running along walls and ceilings – craving a way out of this unfamiliar corridor. He kept looking back, gauging his pursuer’s proximity; always closer than he expected. He turned off the main passage into adjacent basements, wanting to lose the other man or discover an egress, but guessed that his tracker knew these tunnels much better than he did, allowing the man to easily keep up with him.

Entering a basement with two levels, Jace found railed walkways running along the walls and around equipment on the upper level, surrounding an open space to the lower level. Pipes and electrical lines laced the ceiling and walls. He climbed atop a large gas tank lying horizontally and used the pipes that webbed across the ceiling to swing over the open space, reaching the other side of the room. He landed on a shelf, crouching, and looked back. He watched his hunter enter and climb onto the tank. He moved to the end of the shelf, jumped to the walkway leading out that side, and ran.

Vincent ripped an electrical cord from the ceiling, igniting a slew of sparks, and used it to swing over the open space. He landed where the slasher had and followed him into the next section, worried the man might inadvertently enter the deeper tunnels at the Whispering Gallery.

Jace ran down the new corridor, turned a corner, and found himself on a bridge in a rough stone cavern. He stopped, startled by the immense space and the strange echoes that whispered around him. Daunted by the appearance of these deeper tunnels, Jace looked over the bridge. The apparently bottomless abyss threatened to swallow him. Afraid of losing himself, Jace turned back, retracing his steps.

Vincent appeared in the stone entrance, blocking Jace’s escape, his fear and anger that this threat reached his home driving a roar from his throat that echoed through the cavern.

For a moment, they stared at each other.

Then Jace once again chose a fighter’s stance.

Vincent felt the flurry of emotions swirling through the other man: fear of the unknown, dwindling hope of victory in this battle, distaste at the idea of killing this mythological wonder before him, conviction that there was no other way to clear his own name, sorrow at what he had become mingled with certainty of being justified. Vincent pitied him.

Jace swung a high kick aimed at Vincent’s head, but missed when he leaned out of reach. Dropping low with the spin, he kicked at Vincent’s ankles, but Vincent jumped over his foot. Rising out of the spin, Jace swiped his claws, finally connecting, tearing Vincent’s shirt and ripping into his chest.

Vincent roared, angry and hurt, then glanced at his wound. When Jace swiped again, Vincent grabbed his arm, twisting it, holding him contorted, and ripped off his mask, throwing it into the gorge.

They stared at each other for a moment, then Vincent backhanded Jace, knocking him onto the bridge. He somersaulted backwards, using the momentum to rise to his feet. Vincent took a second to examine the cuts Jace gave him, then looked up, roaring angrily. As Vincent advanced, slowly, giving the man an option to stop, Jace backed away, fear in his eyes. He still maintained his fighter’s stance – refusing to yield or ask for mercy or simply stop fighting – his arms, still in the long, hairy gloves with claws attached, waving before him, ready for use. He hopped backwards on the bridge, away from the continued unhurried approach of the man he persisted in threatening. He glanced around, over the bridge into the gulf, noting the vines that hung over the empty space.

Vincent stepped toward Jace, hearing a creak from the boards beneath his feet, right before they broke, falling away. He lost his balance at their sudden disappearance, and dropped through the new opening, just catching himself with his arms on the support beams on either side of the walkway. He held himself there, looking up at Jace.

Vincent still registered the man’s emotions. As Jace raised his claws, ready to press his advantage, yelling a battle cry, glaring down at his prey, Vincent felt his rage-filled bitter victory. When he did not strike, but merely stood poised for a deathblow, Vincent sensed his uncertainty whether a death like this would help him. When doubt supplanted the rage on his face, Vincent detected his stronger skepticism that this death would be justified. As he slowly rose from his fighter’s crouch, lowering his arm, Vincent recognized his shame, nearly overwhelming everything else, at the depths to which he had sunk.

Jace glanced at the vines, then grabbed one, swinging over the crevasse, aimed at the ledge that would grant him an escape to the city above.

As Vincent pulled himself to safety, he watched Jace swing over the chasm. But before he reached the other ledge, the vine broke. Jace yelled in terror, losing himself to the void. Vincent watched him fall into the mist that hung low in the gap, listened to his cry of horror fade away, and sighed at the futility of it all, wishing Jace had let it end differently. With a shake of his head, he turned and headed back toward Catherine. He had to know that she was all right, and he sensed her anxiety to know the same about him.