The Prophecy

7

Jones rushed into the hallway, where he spotted Payne leaving the Scottish Classroom.

‘Jon,’ he called as he jogged towards him, ‘she’s outside.’

‘Where?’

‘Heading towards Heinz Chapel.’

Payne paused in thought. ‘What do you think?’

‘I say we go after her.’

‘Are you gonna bitch about the cold?’

Jones grinned. ‘Not if you don’t.’

‘Then let’s go.’

Ignoring the nearest exit, they hustled to the back of the Cathedral where a pair of revolving doors opened onto a large stone patio. They pushed their way outside and instantly felt the sting of the arctic air on their hands and faces. Rock salt, recently scattered to melt the ice, crunched under their dress shoes and provided them with enough traction to quicken their pace.

‘Which way?’ Payne demanded as he shielded his eyes from the wind.

Jones motioned towards the ground where a single set of footprints could be seen in the freshly fallen snow. It led them down two steps and onto a long path known as the Varsity Walk, a place where the names of former Pitt athletes, like Mike Ditka and Tony Dorsett, had been carved in stone. Trees and benches lined the path, as did a series of black lamp posts that gave them just enough light to follow her tracks to the other side of the spacious east lawn, one of the largest patches of grass on a mostly urban campus.

Payne led the way, walking briskly despite the unsteady footing. Never slipping nor sliding, he continued until he reached a fork in the sidewalk. Heinz Chapel sat off to the left, but the footprints continued straight ahead towards Bellefield Avenue.

He glanced back at Jones. ‘Are you sure it was her?’

‘Positive.’

Payne nodded. That was good enough for him. Without saying another word, he started walking again through the swirling wind. Although it hindered his vision and coated his clothes with snow, he blocked the elements out of his mind. He had survived much worse as the leader of the MANIACs, places so harsh that wildlife couldn’t survive. The type of locales that made hell look like Hawaii. Unlike some soldiers who were trained for specific types of warfare, his squad was known for its flexibility. Hot, cold, wet, dry — it didn’t matter. They were equal-opportunity warriors, willing to kick ass in the jungle, on a glacier, or anywhere in between.

One hundred feet ahead, the stone path ended in a set of icy steps that led down to the road. Payne grasped the handrail for support but didn’t slow his pace until he reached the bottom. Suddenly the footprints he had been following were no longer distinct, thanks to a group of Pitt students who had recently trudged by. Payne looked to his left and studied the sidewalks that lined both sides of the street. No people, no movement, no signs of life — except for the occasional car that trickled past on Fifth Avenue, about half a block away.

‘Over there,’ Jones said from his perch on the steps.

Payne glanced in that direction and smiled at the sight. Across the slush-filled street, roughly fifty feet to their right, the woman in the green coat was scraping snow and ice from her windshield. It was a winter ritual in the northeast.

‘Stay here,’ Payne ordered, realizing she would feel less threatened if only one of them ap proached, and since she had listened to his speech, he knew he was the best candidate.

Before Jones could argue, he made his way carefully across Bellefield Avenue. Even though it was a one-way road, he had learned long ago to always look both ways when crossing streets on the Pitt campus. For some strange reason, the city of Pittsburgh had designed its busonly lanes to go in the opposite direction to the car traffic on a few of its streets. Vehicles rarely collided with buses — all they had to do was stay out of each other’s designated lanes — but pedestrians weren’t always as fortunate. Nearly every year some visitor or clueless freshman who wasn’t familiar with the setup stepped off the sidewalk and got flattened by a bus heading in the ‘wrong’ direction. It happened so often that local police called it death-by-bus.

‘Can I give you a hand?’ Payne called from a distance.

The woman stopped scraping her passenger-side window and searched for the source of the sound. When she realized it was Payne, she became noticeably flustered.

‘I’m sorry,’ she yelled to him while hustling around the front of her Ford Taurus. Her headlights were off, but her car’s engine and heater were running.

‘For what?’

‘For showing up like that. I shouldn’t have done it.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I’m not here to yell at you.’

‘Then why are you here?’ she asked as she opened her door.

When the interior light popped on, Payne could finally see the woman they had been following. Until that point, she had been nothing more than a ghost moving in the shadows of the Cathedral, a green coat trekking through the snow. Now he could put a face on their subject. She was an attractive woman in her early thirties. Brown hair, brown eyes, and very little make-up. Not the least bit glamorous, but sexy nonetheless. The type of woman who used to be a cheerleader but now spent her days at work and her nights with her kids.

Payne answered, ‘I’m here to help.’

‘To help with what? You don’t even know why I’m here.’

‘I will if you tell me.’

‘Listen,’ she said as she climbed into her car, ‘I appreciate you coming outside to talk to me. But I shouldn’t have shown up unannounced.’

He shrugged. ‘Trust me, it’s not a problem. I made my speech and welcomed my guests. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve earned myself a coffee break. Why don’t we go back inside and get ourselves something to drink? I don’t know about you, but I’m freezing my ass off.’

For the first time that night, she smiled. ‘It is kind of cold.’

Payne theatrically rubbed his arms. ‘Brrrrr— rrrrrrr.’

She smiled again, this time even wider. ‘Fine, we can go somewhere and talk, but not inside the Cathedral. I’m severely underdressed.’

Payne glanced at his watch. ‘How about Heinz Chapel? I bet it’s still open.’

She considered his suggestion, then nodded.

‘Do you mind if my friend joins us?’ He pointed back at Jones, who was keeping an eye on things from the nearby steps. ‘I swear, he’s harmless.’

‘No, he’s not,’ she replied. It wasn’t an accusation, more like a statement of fact. ‘Then again, neither are you. If you guys were harmless, I wouldn’t have come so far to talk.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Where did you come from?’

‘Philadelphia.’

‘In this weather? What’s that, a seven-hour drive?’

‘Closer to ten. Lots of accidents on the turnpike.’

Payne nodded in understanding. This time of year, Pennsylvania highways were an adventure — especially in the central part of the state where the roads were so mountainous it was like riding a roller coaster. ‘What time did you leave?’

She turned off the engine. ‘Early.’

‘And you came all this way to talk to me?’

‘To both of you.’

‘Both of us?’

She closed her door and nodded.

‘About what?’

‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather tell you together. It’ll be easier that way.’

‘Not a problem,’ he assured her. ‘No pressure from me.’

‘Thanks. I appreciate that.’

‘However,’ he said as they walked across the road, ‘since you crashed my party, I feel like I’m entitled to one piece of information that you still haven’t told me.’

‘Oh, yeah? What’s that?’

Payne looked at her. ‘What’s your name?’

She glanced at him and smiled. ‘Ashley. My name is Ashley.’