Don’t speak.
Jason dropped his hands instinctively in front of his crotch, even though his baggy t-shirt covered his lap. He felt embarrassed regardless of the low light making any details around him a hazy, grey blur.
From his perspective, it seemed as though Lily could see him, as though she were responding to his motions. She flicked quickly through several more cards, tossing them carelessly to her left.
I’m sorry.
Confusing, I know.
I can explain.
So much you need to know.
Please, forgive me.
I meant no harm.
Trust me.
She had tears in her eyes.
“I don’t understand,” he said, and she held her finger to her lips, signaling for him to be quiet.
The next series of cards made his blood run cold.
You are in danger.
You must leave.
Not safe.
Please, trust me.
Without saying anything, he mouthed the word, “OK.”
Wherever she was, she was watching him in real time as she smiled in response. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she turned over four more cards.
Count back from 60.
Be out front on one.
No sooner.
No later.
As she discarded the last cue card, her image faded, being replaced with a series of numbers counting down.
59, 58, 57, 56, 55…
Jason sat there on the toilet stunned with his pants still around his ankles. Did he trust her? Could he forgive her? What was going on? Why the mind games?
46, 45, 44, 43…
Time was slipping away.
Jason hated being backed into a corner, being forced to make a snap decision. He needed the opportunity to assimilate what was happening.
Lily must have hidden the projector while she was having a shower the night before, but why the charade? She had to be nearby. Jason stood up, partially blocking the numbers as he pulled up his pants.
31, 30, 29, 28, 27…
He closed the seat on the toilet, flushed, and stood on the lid. His fingers pulled at the projector. It was tiny, no larger than a quarter, and had been wedged between the steel rim of the light fitting and the drywall that made up the ceiling. A long straggly wire acted as an aerial. He turned the device over in his hand. He’d never seen anything this complex in such miniature form before. There had to be a self contained power supply, a radio receiver, not to mention the projector with its bulb and lens.
18, 17, 16, 15…
Was there a microphone embedded in it as well? Was there a camera as well as a projector? She’d seen him. Was there some other device hidden somewhere else inside the bathroom?
10, 9, 8…
He couldn’t see anything over the sink, but in the darkness he could easily overlook a pinhole camera. He reached for the light switch but paused as he realized the countdown was coming to an end.
6, 5, 4…
Shit!
In a panic, he tossed the projector on the ground and threw the bathroom door open. With his heart pounding in his chest, he leaped onto his bed, scrambling across toward the door. Both of his hands worked with superb synchronicity, turning the lock and handle in unison and allowing him to fly through the door and out into the hallway with barely a thought to what he was doing, abandoning his apartment and leaving the door wide open.
Mentally, he had already reached the number one and there was still a flight of stairs ahead of him leading down to the building foyer.
Fuck!
A motorcycle pulled up outside. The exhaust was rough, coughing and spluttering as though the fuel/air mix was too rich. Jason took the stairs three at a time, reacting, not thinking.
There was something deeply intriguing, perhaps even fascinating and satisfying in the heart-thumping sense of embarking on a mysterious, forbidden adventure.
Lily’s tiny frame looked out of place on the motorbike as it waited there idling. Had he stopped to think, even for a moment, there was no way he would have climbed on the back of a motorbike, but there she was, waving for him to hurry.
He ran across the lobby, almost crashing into the doors as he pressed the exit button. Ordinarily, the door opened almost instantly, but that night the electronics seemed to pause for an eternity. Deep inside the door, the lock clicked, indicating the door could be pushed open, but he didn’t have either the keys to his apartment or the keycard for the main door to get back into the building. Too bad.
“This is crazy!” he said, unable to suppress the grin stretching across his face at the sight of Lily on the back of a dirt bike modified for riding over the rough countryside well beyond New York City.
The motorbike was a contradiction of clashing colors. Large red coils at the front provided stiff suspension for the handlebars, while the seat at the rear was bright green. The seat was set surprisingly high, exposing the knobbly off-road tire. Fumes drifted from the chrome exhaust. There was no license plate.
“You’re late,” Lily cried as he rushed outside into the night. She handed him a helmet. Lily was wearing blue jeans and a black leather jacket, and not a formal dress kind of jacket, one custom made for motorcycle riders. The thick leather and padded sections on the shoulders made her tiny frame look bulky, almost butch, as though she had muscles bigger than his.
Jason smiled, looking at the helmet she handed him as he said, “What’s going on?” He almost laughed. He found it preposterous to see her fragile frame on such a large, powerful motorbike.
Lily revved the engine, keeping the bike from idling.
“No time to explain. Get on!”
“Now, wait a minute,” Jason replied, but Lily grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, pulling him close and kissing him briskly on the lips. She pulled back from him just as abruptly, looking deep into his eyes as she spoke.
“I know this is difficult. But we have to leave.”
Jason turned. There were a dozen or so men and women running down the street toward them.
In the distance, easily a quarter of mile away, several police cars turned into the street with their lights flashing and their sirens blaring.
“Now!” Lily cried.
What had started out somewhat playfully, suddenly made his blood run cold.
Gun shots rang out.
Although Jason had been intrigued by Lily’s sudden appearance and what seemed to be a transformation from her shy and quiet demeanor to an overtly aggressive and assertive persona, this was no joke. Something had gone horribly wrong. A state of panic swept through him, paralyzing him.
“Please,” she pleaded. “You’ve got to trust me. Your life is in danger!”