We had three hours to have something to eat, have a wash, and get to the bridge. I usually showered every day as a routine, although I didn’t shave as regularly, so the hot water and soap left me feeling revitalised for the first time in days. Unfortunately, Bernie was a few sizes smaller than me so I put my old clothes back on with a grimace. I left the door of the bathroom open for Jack who eagerly walked in and closed the door. Bernie said he wasn’t going to bother, instead he warmed up cans of beans and made some coffee.
The beans tasted pleasant enough and I began to think that Bernie might have been right after all. What if we could sit the whole thing out in his apartment? The symptoms people were suffering might not last forever. At least here, we had warm food, relative safety, and no need to risk ourselves unless we were getting supplies. Jack swiped his beans from the kitchen and took them towards the desk to eat and check the computer.
“Harry, Bernie, we’ve got a reply, it says they’ll try to get there.”
Bernie and I walked over to Jack and looked at the message over his shoulders.
“I’m still not sure about this, guys,” Bernie said.
“Totally agree, it’s a risk, but I think we need to find other people,” I replied.
“I agree with Harry,” Jack turned back to us. “We have two potentially important people here, they may know more than we do and can hold guns and cover our backs.”
Bernie walked back to his bedroom.
“You coming then, Bernie?” Jack called
“Do I have a choice?” his muffled reply came back.
We stood ready to go in Bernie’s apartment entrance, readied our weapons and carried out an equipment check. I prepared myself mentally for the next few hours and knew there was a very real possibility that we would meet with a hostile force.
Queens Boulevard, where we had abandoned the car, led straight to the bridge that Bernie had identified as our meeting place. So, we retraced our steps and kept our eyes open, the recycle bin was still where we had left it with the rock on top.
“No. Don’t even think about it,” Jack said.
The Ford was still parked in the same position, facing a blockage that barred the whole expressway. We continued along the sidewalk through intermittent tree groups for three hundred yards, until the road appeared to open up again. At the head of the pile-up, the cars were too mangled for driving, but further up the road was a pick-up. We approached cautiously and found it empty with the keys in the ignition.
“I don’t like it,” Bernie said.
I knew what he meant, the smashed cars, debris, and bodies all around us, were a contrast to this clean vehicle.
“Come on, let’s get out of here, I’m not hanging around,” I said and urged Bernie into the driver’s seat.
With Bernie at the wheel, we wove our way through cars and over bodies to within sight of the bridge. The road leading to the bridge was blocked again with vehicles. We had left Bernie’s with enough time to walk to the bridge in case we couldn’t get there by car, so we still had thirty minutes to wait until the meeting. I suggested that we stay in the car for the next twenty-five minutes instead of drawing attention to ourselves by walking around. Bernie turned off the engine and we all instinctively ducked down.
“When we go out there, we’ll wait ten minutes and that’s it,” Bernie whispered from the front of the car.
We were horribly exposed again and I knew that this had been all my idea, so I didn’t try to negotiate a longer waiting period.
“I’m not happy with this, Harry,” Jack said. “We can’t see anyone coming. I am going to sit up and play dead. At least then, we’ll be able to see in one direction.”
None of us spoke as we waited to move.
“Right, time to go,” Bernie eventually said.
We opened up the doors and started walking guardedly towards the bridge. The view of the Manhattan skyline was stunning against the clear blue sky.
As we approached the point of the bridge where it began to cross the East River, we stopped and took cover behind a yellow taxi.
Bernie peered over the hood to get a view of the bridge; I joined him while Jack sat with his back to the taxi covering the rear. In the distance across the bridge, I could hear the noise of an engine revving.
Jack switched his attention to the bridge and aimed his rifle over the top of the vehicle.
“I can’t see a car. Do you think they are signalling us?”
“A signal? It’s a pretty dumb one if it is,” Bernie said.
I wasn’t ready to give up hope just yet.
“We don’t know what their plan is, let’s play it out Bernie,” I replied.
The engine noise was getting closer.
“I can see a vehicle working its way over the bridge,” Jack said.
“How many in the car?” Bernie asked.
“I can’t see at the moment. It’s about one hundred yards from us,” Jack said, then crouched. “What shall we do? Jump out with our weapons pointed at the windshield when they get to within five yards?”
“No,” I replied, “they might shoot first and ask questions later if we take them by surprise. Let’s stand together in a gap, point our weapons towards the car and give them a decent chance of seeing us early. We are in the agreed meeting place, after all.”
“I don’t like it. What if there is only one killer in the car?” Bernie said.
“Then I put an early end to his mission with this rifle,” Jack answered and tapped the stock.
We stood up and moved into a gap between two cars in the middle of the road. I caught a few brief glimpses of the car weaving towards us. It stopped around fifty yards from our position when the driver must have spotted us. Through the gap, we saw the headlights flash a few times. Our presence was being acknowledged.
Within thirty yards, I saw that there were two people in the car. It disappeared again to make its way around a van. I ran towards the car and reached the driver’s window. Inside, was a bald headed man with a red moustache in a pink t-shirt. Beside him, was a female passenger who was resting her elbow on the window frame and looking out the opposite direction. The driver’s window wound down about four inches.
“Thank God, you’re here. I knew you’d turn up,” I shouted.
A hunting knife shot through the gap and stopped about an inch from my eye. The space had just been just too small for the driver’s clenched hand to fit through. I jumped back and pointed the Glock at him.
“What the fuck are you doing? There’s three of us here!”
The car reversed back a few yards before the wheels spun and it came hurtling towards me. I dived out of the way and the car slammed into another vehicle. I heard a loud bang and looked up to see the driver’s window was shattered. The man’s baldhead fell forwards and rested on the horn, which let off a continuous blast of noise. Jack jogged up to the car, put his hand through the window, and pushed the drivers head sideways away from the wheel.
“What the fuck just happened?” Bernie said as he appeared beside me.
“He tried to kill Harry.” Jack replied as he reloaded the rifle.
“What about the woman?” I said.
“Did you notice that she didn’t actually move? I followed you and went to the other side of the car. By the time I had worked it out, the driver had already tried to stab you and was reversing.”
I still wasn’t sure exactly what Jack had worked out, so I walked around to the passenger window for a look. Inside, I could clearly see that the woman was a corpse. She was still in the same position as before, blankly looking out of the car with her elbow on the window frame. I nudged her; she was as stiff as a board.
This killer had used cunning and knowledge of the situation in his attempt to attack us, which meant these people were conscious of their instructions and could plan how to achieve them. Bernie had little doubt about what had happened after looking through the car.