"All those police ... just for me?"

"If you were a normal witness they wouldn't need this many men. You're not just a suspect - they want it to be you."

Henry tightened up on that. Up till now he'd been working on a hunch built on nothing more than an active imagination. These were the first words to verify his fears. He felt it immediately, the shiver of undiluted panic.

"B-but why do you want to help me?"

"I know you didn't do anything wrong. You're a good kid and they're on a desperate hunt for a suspect. I can't let them pin those crimes on you."

"But ... you're a doctor. You're supposed to-"

"Save lives. Call me by any title you want, saving lives is my only prerogative. And if I let them have you it's like I'm throwing you to the wolves. I'm going to save your life. If I don't then I might as well quit my job right now." He smiled a clumsy half smile.

Henry returned the grin. "T-thank you."

The doctor looked away when he heard the nurse speaking from the hallway outside. She and the officer spoke loud and openly to one another. This guard likely wouldn't be bothering them for a while.

"Okay, it's time," the doctor whispered. "The nurse should keep him busy."

The doctor leaned down close to Henry's ear. "Okay, Henry, listen to me. After you take the pills you'll fall asleep so I need you to remember something, you got me?"

Henry nodded, shivering.

"Good. Okay, I'm going to wheel you out in a gurney but I can't take you through any direct routes without attracting attention. That means main exits are off limits. The safest way out is down the basement elevator. There's a fire exit in the boiler room you can use to escape into the storage yard. From there, I want you to hop over a high wall which will be on your left. You'll land in a laneway, follow it to the main street."

"Why are you telling me? you'll be there when I wake up."

"The tablets I gave you will knock you out for a short while. It should take nearly an hour to wear off. I'll hide you in the boiler room then return to my duties so as not to raise suspicion. I'll pretend your still here then claim ignorance when they find out. Right now the police still think you're asleep so they won't check for a while anyway."

"What if someone finds me while I'm still asleep down in the boiler room?"

"The janitor hardly uses that room anymore, just in case I have the master key to the building, I'll lock it for you and leave the fire exit open." The doctor glanced to the doorway. "Okay, the nurse is back from her lunch. It's now or never, are you ready?"

Henry took one pill and pinched it between two fingers. Against every bit of doubt he found his hands moving gradually toward his mouth. He swallowed in one. His vision hazed and with it Henry began to anticipate the darkness of sleep. Instead, he found his head falling back. He didn't go asleep, he just couldn't move. What he saw was like looking through someone else's eyes, all the vision without thinking to rationalise.

The doctor had told him he would sleep the whole way through. There was no sleep in this. This feeling, it clutched him like a waking nightmare. He felt afraid, though he couldn't really feel so much as imagine the familiarity of fear. It was paralysis, a gripping paralysis. Finally, that most anticipated darkness appeared, but came in the form of a blanket folded over his face.

As sounds around echoed into senselessness, Henry felt pressure on his chest like someone leaning down. An obscure voice whispered words he could barely hear or stand to remember.

"Gullible idiot."

The darkness remained, his senses drifted in and out. What he felt next might have been the bumps of movement, or the thud of his brain beating against his skull. It continued for a while, so too the murmurs of people they passed. Each new sound brought with it a promise of freedom, so long as new ones came he knew they were still moving and hadn't been caught. Each one of those new sounds went lost on him no sooner than he heard them. His mind swam round and round until the next reset. In each passing moment he awoke anew with the mental comprehension of a new born baby, and he couldn't even cry to vent his confusion.

Those sounds dispersed, replaced by droning gurney wheels rolling on a concrete floor. The gurney moved faster in this place, as though safer to do so, or as though the doctor lacked a good excuse if caught down here.

They stopped. A noise like rattling steel touched Henry's ears. It sounded like steal rubbing off steel, an almost intolerable sound similar to metal floor grating. The rattling stopped along with the gurney's wheels. Suddenly a noise of groaning steel droned in Henry's ears. It was like a heavy steel door opening right next to his head. Slowly, he felt the gurney roll forward until arriving at a total stop. Footfalls walked away. The heavy door slammed shut.

There came a lonely silence, but not a total silence. Loud creaks, like those of churning pipes sounded above. They popped as though they'd crack open any second.

Now more than ever Henry longed to tear the blanket off his face. The heat in the room was fierce and this cover did little to placate the issue. Though thinking on instinct alone, these emotions were good signs. At least now he could form the mental linguistics required to want the blanket removed. At least he could feel fear again, and feel the burning heat enough to hate it. These were the first of his restored senses. By time he became aware of himself he'd fallen off the gurney. Crawling on the ground like a mole in day time, he slipped on his glasses in the hope his double vision would cease.

The room continued to wobble in and out of double and single vision until hot steam shot straight into his face. It hit hard enough to straighten his sight to a stable single vision. Rubbing his eyes to be sure he found himself alone in a small room lined from ceiling to the walls in pipes.

"The boiler room?" he spoke groggily, only then realising his location. It also dawned on him that the trip down here, together with returning to normal, might have taken a lot longer than it seemed to him. The doctor did say the effects would last a whole hour.

He walked forward on jelly legs, winding around pipes that ran through the middle of the room. He slammed through the fire exit as though fleeing a collapsing mineshaft. He'd made it to the outside, to a laneway lined with snow. He found himself awash with sudden biting cold which almost sent him shivering to the ground. To his left, he saw the wall which should take him back to the main street Sparing no more thought, he dragged some storage crates up against it for climbing leverage. Everything the doctor promised turned out true. He was safe, he was free. He could keep running and never be found. He could be free.

Rum, Alex, and Sierra had made near two runs around the hospital to no avail. Spirits low and bodies tired, they chose to rest in an elevator landing between stairwells.

Evening drew closer. Snow outside the window fell like ash from an otherwise calm, if not clouded sky. There were twice as many people in the hospital now, and just a slight fading trace of hope.

Sat on top of a stairwell, Rum began gloating as if distracted in his own private victory. "Hopeless ... I told you guys it'd be hopeless. If only you listened to me first. I could be home by now."

Sierra paced around the room. "This can't be all there is. They took him to this hospital I know it. This guy couldn't have just disappeared. He could be in the next room for all we know!"

"We already checked the next room. He's gone." Rum said.

"Hate to say, but Rum may actually be right," Alex said. "This was the nearest hospital so they would have brought him here by default. Once they get his insurance in order, then off he goes to a better hospital."

"We asked from the staff and the patients, Blondie," Rum argued. "We've done everything we can do. It's probably for the best anyway, saves us a lot more trouble."

Sierra thumped Rum over the head. "Shut the hell up, you could have gone home any time you wanted!"

Rum pronged to his feet, grabbing her by the collar. "You're right, I could have. Guess I spend too much time babysitting you."

Sierra clenched her fist, holding it up with the intention to strike.

"Cut it out," Alex said. "We've stopped for a few minutes and you two are already at each other's throats. Look, we're here anyway we might as well have another go around. Maybe we should try look at it from another angle. Maybe the guy in the fire wasn't our guy. He might have just worked there. But Jack Matters might have come in as a guest, so why not check the guest list?"

Sierra and Rum backed away from each other with plentiful hesitation.

"You think this place keeps a guest list?" Sierra said, eying the deteriorating walls as if the decor spoke for itself.

"I'm out of ideas then."

Rum began chuckling to himself, gradually growing louder until bursting into laughter. The joke appeared to have started as a private one between himself and himself but shortly pitched into something of an all out belly laugh. It sounded like a victorious, spiteful laugh.

Even Alex had to scowl for his poor form. "That doesn't mean we're giving up yet."

Old Rum washed a phoney tear of joy away, holding up a piece of paper for them to see the suicide note.

Sierra snapped it back. "How the hell did you get that? You sneaky little git, you picked my pocket!" He didn't stop laughing. "You think this is funny?"

"Not that you little she-cow," Rum said. "You messed up."

"The hell are you talking about?" She brushed over the note again.

"Open your eyes, Blondie. The note says he went to see that Matters guy at his bookies. Did that place look like bookie to you?"

"Well I ... didn't really see what it was like. It..."

"Was a general goods store. You don't keep books in a store like that."

"I doubt it's all that legal," Sierra said.

"It'd make terrible cover. Illegal gambling needs a place off the beaten track, a place people go in and out all day so not to draw attention. Come on Alex, your brain might be shot but you can figure these things out."

Alex pondered a moment. "The note did suggest the building would be something a little more shady. It also seems to imply this Jack Matters owns more than one building. It seems plausible we could have hit the wrong one."

"But then ... what about the fire? What about the man you and Henry rescued?" Sierra said.

"What about him?" Alex replied. "We rescued him. Nobody else would have so we can be glad we went a little off course. Time to resume I think."

"But!"

"You want a reward or something, Blondie? You heard Alex, we don't need the guy, let's go."

"You know the old drunk's just being a selfish git again!"

"Well he can occasionally be helpful in his own selfish way. Whatever the case, it seems we'll have to look for our Mr Matters at one of his more frequented locations."

"And where's that?" Sierra asked.

"We'll have to go look."

"Are you really sure about this?"

"Surer than I'll be scrambling around this place. We were getting nowhere anyway."

"I'd still like to see how he's getting on."

"For a nice fat thank you, a big warm hug to make everything okay? There's nothing here, time to go. That guy's none of our business now. We've done anything we're going to."

"Let's find Henry first," Alex said.

Rum groaned. "Oh come on, leave that dud here, he'll only slow us down. I advise you listen to what I'm saying. I'm the only one of us who seems to know what he's doing."

Alex placed a finger to chin in contemplation. "Let's see, Henry was on the third floor ... or was it the second? Maybe we should just check at reception."

"Or we can run around the hospital again, we'd be a lot faster," Rum said, idling his way down the stairs.

Alex followed closely behind, stopping in wait for Sierra. "You coming?"

She stood staring into the note as if trying to solve a puzzle. "I ... could have sworn that was our guy. I ... are you sure about this, Alex?"

"Don't let it get to you. Hurry up or Rum will wander off and get lost."

There was little else to do except check at reception again. With any luck the clerk from earlier had been replaced by a more tolerant employee. Any hope for it became immediately squashed upon entering the reception area. Not only was the same receptionist still there, but a new bustle of people jammed the hall near wall to wall. The only sign of a queue was the horizontally moving streak of people jammed together in the centre. The receptionist herself fretted over her keyboard, typing near non-stop. Rum spared a moment to laugh at her misfortune before deciding to speak.

"What is this, the Christmas rush?" he said. "It'll be night before we get through this line."

From somewhere in the crowd a familiar voice started calling for Sierra and Alex. It came in the direction of the main entrance. It sounded like Henry, and from the brief glances they caught of him jumping up and down to grab their attention, it looked like him too. After stumbling his way through the bustle Henry came falling out the other side.

"They let you out already?" Alex asked.

"Yeah ... sort of," Henry replied.

"I get it," Rum said. "The doctor wouldn't let you leave so you decided to sneak out. And check it out, looks like the rebel Henry robbed some fancy new clothes before taking off too."

"Well actually one of the doctors gave them to me since my old ones got damaged in the fire."

Sierra eyed Henry warily. "Okay so ... why did you come in from the main door?"

"I didn't want anyone catching me so I thought it better to wait for you guys outside." Henry laughed awkwardly. "What's with all the questions anyway? Drop it already. So what are going to do now? I think we should leave."

That was enough to get them going. With Rum leading, they pushed through the remainder of the crowd until arriving back outside. When free, Rum halted like a captain relaying orders.

"First order of business: we get the hell away from this place. Secondly, we have no idea what to do next."

"Shouldn't we start looking for the shop from the note again?" Henry suggested.

"Yeah about that," Rum replied. "Blondie has something funny to tell you. You'll love it - it's a story that involves me being right and her being wrong."

Sierra scowled. "Don't call me Blondie, prick."

Chapter 6.

The tramps continued their search in an idle sort of way, dawdling along a sidewalk checking directories and signs. They didn't need to rush, mostly because they weren't sure what they'd be rushing to find. Besides, day was fading fast and the wavering light lulled their spirits as a night lamp would a child.

Henry broke into a brief coughing fit induced by exhaust smoke from all the cars on the main road beside them. The fumes merged with one another, foaming over curbs to the sidewalk. Today the road bore thrice the average number of cars. Christmas should always be busy but that wasn't the reason for the clog. In this case a snow plough was clearing the road, simultaneously forging a traffic jam in its rear.

Forcing those coughs down, Henry ran to catch up with the others. "So ... Sierra read the name wrong. That wasn't the right shop."

"I read it wrong, but that shop had the same name. That's pretty strange when you think about it. I suppose ... if destiny led me to find the suicide note, then it makes sense the whole thing could have been fate as well."

"It was still the wrong place. I think if there's some divine purpose in all this, God should double check his sights," Henry added.

"Here we go with that fate crap again. Blondie's just making excuses for getting the name wrong. There ain't no fate in this, Henry did all that for nothing. Guess you'll think again before launching yourself into a burning building again. And having Alex bail you out after."

"I think, maybe I would have done it anyway," Henry said.