The Alcoholic - 3

He struggled to keep up with her brisk pace. His head pounded in time with each unsteady step he took and hot pain shot up his right thigh and through his hip. The pink hair tie suddenly disappeared in front of a woman's scarfed head and he craned his neck to one side to try and spot her again. He startled a bit when a pink blur shot out the side of the stream of pedestrians and entered a gap between buildings. He stopped just short of the corner of the marble facade on his side of a service drive and placed his right hand on the cool surface of the stone. His right knuckles still ached and a cold sweat had by now broken out on his brow. He felt like puking and a wave of dizzy nausea left him panting. A young man in a sharp black and gray suit strode past him and glanced his way, quickly dismissing him with a disgusted look.

He didn't give the business man a second thought and slowly peaked his head around the corner, trying to focus on the dim alleyway. A dry breeze hit his face, smelling of garbage and oil and further chilling the sweat on his face. The brunette was there, walking uncertainly away from him, scanning the face of the building on her left, looking for something. "What the hell is she doing," he wondered as he watched her. "It's not safe for a woman like her down here." Momentarily concerned for her welfare, he almost forgot about mugging her, but an uncontrollable tremor in his arms brought him back to his desperate need for a drink. He slowly stepped around the corner and approached her as quietly as he could.

She stopped suddenly, staring above a door at an orange smudge of paint just above the metal door frame. He froze, then slowly tried to blend into the building opposite of her. She glanced right quickly, then left toward his direction, but her attention turned immediately back to the door. He had gotten a brief look at her face and recognized the raw fear in her wild eyes. She stepped up to the door and knocked, a short, tentative motion. Waiting a moment, she knocked again, this time harder, and he heard the muffled sound that her small fist made on the steel door. It jerked open and she visibly jumped back half a step. He squinted but couldn't make out the figure standing in the doorway. She started forward slowly, then stopped as if reconsidering entering. She looked down at her feet, then up again at the open doorway and stepped inside. The door immediately slammed shut.

He sighed and slumped against the wall behind him. She was gone and so was his chance at some quick cash. At least from her. He steeled himself and turned back toward the city street where he'd first spotted her. Just as he took a step, a horrible scream pierced the morning air followed by a loud crashing sound of metal. His head jerked around back down the service street and he knew without a doubt the noise had come from behind the door marked with orange.