Davy traversed the twelve blocks to the museum in a dead run, his lungs bursting when he finally reached the huge, ornate front doors. He pounded on them, shouting at the top of his lungs before deciding that Mr. Nathanson, despite being very nice, was too slow for this emergency.
Davy sprinted around to the back of the museum, skidding to a halt in front of the back doors. He noticed that one of them was being held open by a length of pipe . . .
. . . almost as if someone had expected him to come along.
He wrenched the door open and ran to Peter’s side, hurling the ladder aside. “Peter! Peter! Speak to me!”
Peter moaned, rolling onto his side. “Davy?” he whimpered.
“Yeah, Peter, it’s me. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“M-My back,” Peter moaned, weakly tugging at the back of his shirt. Davy noticed that his knuckles were raw and bleeding.
“Easy, Peter. Don’t move. Look, we’re gonna get you home, okay?”
“We?” Peter looked over his shoulder. “Are . . . Mike and Micky here?”
“No, Peter. It’s just me.”
Peter tried to hide his disappointment. “I wanna go home, Davy.”
“I know.” Davy gently raised his friend into a seated position. “Can you walk?”
Peter groaned as he crawled slowly to his feet, leaning heavily on Davy’s small frame as he gained his balance. He took a step, his smooth features creasing into a pained grimace. Davy slipped Peter’s arm around his shoulder. “It’s okay, Peter. Just lean on me, man.”
“Just . . . get me out of here, will you, Davy?”
“Sure, Peter, sure.”
~*~
It took almost an hour for Peter to limp home. Davy had suggested running back to the Pad for his jeep, but Peter adamantly refused to be left alone. He hobbled along, gritting his teeth, until the Pad had finally come into sight.
Davy sat Peter down on the chaise and ran to the bathroom for a wet washcloth and the iodine. As he came out he paused, staring at Peter. The bassist was sitting, staring at the floor. His wrists rested gently on his knees, and his hands were shaking violently.
“Hey, Peter,” he said as he approached. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”
Peter looked up at Davy, his tear-filled eyes begging Davy for an explanation, but Davy had none to give. He sat down in front of Peter and began tending to his knuckles. “You didn’t see who did this?”
Peter shook his head. “No. I was too scared to look. How did you know where I was?”
Davy looked up, so startled that he nearly dropped the iodine bottle. “I . . . I . . . ” He took a deep breath. “I dreamed it, Peter.”
Peter cocked his head to the side. “You dreamed it?”
Davy nodded. “Only . . . I was the one who attacked you.”
Peter gasped. “But . . . you?”
“Yeah. I saw you running, and it felt like I was the one chasing you. I wanted to stop, to call out to you, but I couldn’t. Right when you fell is when I woke up here. I looked in the bedroom and you weren’t there, and I knew that it wasn’t just a dream.”
“I know you didn’t do this,” Peter said.
“Damn right I didn’t,” Davy muttered, lifting the back of Peter’s shirt. He fought a swell of nausea and intense anger at the sight of the darkening red bruise. He could see that Peter wouldn’t be able to sleep on his back for a while. “I’m gonna find out who did this to you, Peter. I promise.”
Peter nodded. “Where’s Mike and Micky?”
“Micky’s still on his date and Mike’s . . . I don’t know.”
Peter turned, his eyes wide. “You don’t know? What if he’s in danger too?”
“Peter, come on, man. We don’t know who did this—we can’t assume they’ll go after Mike,” Davy said, even as a cold prickle struck his spine.
Peter shrugged, then grimaced as the movement sent pain flashing through his back.
“Come on, Peter. You need to rest. I’ll go out looking for Mike, okay?”
“Thanks, Davy,” Peter said, allowing Davy to lead him to the bedroom. He collapsed face-first onto his bed with a sigh; Davy pulled a blanket over him and made a soft retreat, closing the door behind him.
It was silly. There was no reason to think that Mike or Micky would be targets, but as Davy stared at the empty, quiet house he was struck with a sudden sense of urgency, and he grabbed his coat and the keys to his jeep and fled once again into the night.
On to Chapter Three
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