Think of the Devil

Thirteen

The air was cool and humid near the Hudson River. It forced Jane's lungs to work harder as she panted, her heart still racing even once her feet had stopped moving. She'd chased after Matt's desperate pleas for help until they'd fallen totally silent. Now, standing near the docks and looking out at the water, she stretched her mind as far as she could. All she could do was hope he was unconscious, and that if he was she would still be able to detect him.

By some miracle, this was the case. Her head canted to the left, sensing a cacophony of fear and adrenaline and exhaustion fading in and out. She scanned the area, her eyes flitting back and forth. Even as close as she was, she couldn't see him in the dark of a crescent moon. She called out, her voice shaking with her own anxiety. "Matt!"

There was a moment when there were no sounds but the small waves of the Hudson. Then a startled and small cry came from below her, almost inaudible under the noise from the water. "J-Jane!"

She raced forward, looking around again, pressing against the guard rail beside the dock. Glancing down, she finally spotted his crumpled figure. Matt was curled up in the small strip of sand that clung to where the river met the architecture. Her eyes widened and she quickly searched for a way to get to him. A ladder was built into the wall facing the river about ten feet off, so she sprinted to it to climb down.

Her boots made loud splashes in the water as she ran. Jane knelt beside him, pulling him up as best she could so his head was out of the tide. He was gasping for air against her, his body totally freezing and trembling because of it. Everything he was feeling radiated to her in icy waves, his relief and pain and confusion and panic. It made her stomach turn.

He grasped her arm, clutching onto her like a lifeline, his blank eyes darting around wildly. "Jane," he repeated, his voice gravelly. "You-- You heard me. You found me."

"Yeah, Matt. I'm here, I got you," she assured breathlessly. "C'mon, Matt, sit up. I got you."

It had taken a few minutes for Matt to find the strength to move. Once he did, he had to lean on Jane until his knees were no longer shaking. She tried to hail a cab, but he vehemently refused for some reason and asked her to walk instead. They stumbled through the dark together, Matt guiding them through dim alleys and eventually up onto rooftops once the buildings all connected. He managed to convince her to help him back to his old apartment, telling her it was a block closer. She wondered about his place being empty for two months, but she was a little too busy to ask.

Finally, they were pushing through the roof access door. A long stairwell to the main space met them, and she had to help him from stumbling down. He'd already begun pulling off his tie, tossing it to the floor. It wasn't until he started removing his sopping wet clothing that she comprehended he'd been in a suit when she found him. As she leaned against the banister, trying to catch her breath, she watched him tear off his jacket, his shirt, and his shoes before collapsing to the ground. When he did, she was kneeling beside him again in an instant.

"Matt," she whispered. She maneuvered them so his head could rest against her thighs, her knees tucked up beneath her. He was still breathing hard, seeming to have used the last of his energy just to make it here.

He shut his eyes against her, reaching up to take her left hand as it rested on his shoulder. "Th-Thank you," he breathed, his chest heaving. "Thank you."

She tried to survey him as he caught his breath. His discarded shirt had blood on it, but he didn't appear to have any visible open wounds. She brushed his still damp hair away from his head to examine the scar he wouldn't let heal. It was looking a bit better, but still red and swollen from whatever had gone down today.