Nightwalker Chapter 1

Inmate six, seven, two, one, three, dash zero, zero, seven gazed up at the quote etched into the wall above the prison gate. “When one door closes, another door opens.” The formerly gold etching had almost entirely worn away and was slowly being replaced by white, crunchy lichen.

The head prison warden sauntered out from the shadows of the guardhouse with a napkin in hand. “Oh my sweet little sunshine,” he groaned in distress as he dabbed performatively at his eye.

“After all we’ve been through, I can’t believe you’re leaving me!” he added, much to the eye-rolling displeasure of the inmate who was anxiously waiting to be released.

The warden fussed with the inmate’s collar, “Are you sure you don’t want to rough me up a little to get your sentence increased? I promise not to enjoy it too much.”

The inmate looked up at the quote above him once more, “I’ll pass, thank you.” “Oh, Sunshine. Who are we kidding? You’ll be back in no time. What will it be for, though, that is the question!”

“Can you open the gate, please?” The inmate replied, knowing full well the warden was trying to rile him up one last time.

The warden sighed and signalled to the man at the door controls. “Oh, alright. I guess we will see you soon anyway, with that pretty face of yours, you’ll find another girlfriend to kill in no time!”

As the gate opened, the warden and his verbal jabs ceased to register in the inmate’s ears; that patch of concrete just beyond the gate was all he could focus on.

For the first time in ten years, his feet touched down on the sidewalk, and the inmate became Lev Sorokin once more.

“Send me a postcard, won’t you?” The warden muttered as the prison gate rattled closed between them.

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Lev stood with his back to the prison and glanced around at the world he hadn’t seen in ten years. The welcome he was greeted with wasn’t all that awe-inspiring; A decade seems like an age, especially when one is in prison, but as Lev gazed into the distance, nothing much seemed different.

It was deep into Autumn, and a cold wind blew leaves along the street. The gutters were clogged with rubbish, and pools of water stretched up and down the road past the prison. From here, on the outskirts of the city, the view served to make the cluster of sky-scraping buildings in the distance look more like a crop of mushrooms vying to be the tallest. Without a watch or even a phone, Lev had no idea what time it was.

Still, beats being in there, He thought to himself as he sighed and began walking. Lev knew there was only ever going to be one destination for him once he got out. Both his parent’s had passed away while he was locked up, his mother from cancer, his father from the broken heart that followed. Their house, the one where he and Jessica lived – the one where she was, kidnapped? Murdered? He hadn’t gotten a proper answer to his fiancé’s fate; all he knew was that he was the one pegged with the crime. That house, if it still stood and hadn’t been sold, was all Lev had left in this world. The problem was, he didn’t know if he was ready to go there yet.

After what felt like an hour or two of walking, Lev sat down at a bus stop. He rummaged through the brown paper bag of what was meant to be his belongings. But everything he had with him the night he was arrested ten years ago had been taken by the police. His watch, phone, wallet and all his forms of ID - Gone. All that should have been in the bag was the suit jacket he had been wearing that night, instead he found two sets of prison jumpsuits. While not something that a prisoner would usually be given on their way out, the prison warden was nothing if not weird and perverse.

“Not even a cent,” Lev muttered in annoyance, squashing the bag on his leg as he stretched out his legs. A smile crept over his lips as he looked at his shoes. He had been shocked to find they hadn’t been swiped by one of the prison guards during all this time. They were technically a skateboarding shoe, not that Lev knew how to skate, adorned in a rainbow tiger print and a particular, iconic white tick stretched across their sides. Lev had got these shoes just for his job, only a week before he went to prison.

Jessica’s reaction when he brought them home flashed in his mind: As soon as she picked up the shoebox, that smug grin came over her face. The one that always signalled a smart-ass comment was coming. “Really? You work at the Jaguar Lounge. Key word, jaguar. The box says tiger rainbow. Keyword, Tiger”

He had shrugged and said, “Yeah, well, I figure it’s as close as I’ll get. Besides, it’s a nightclub, drunk people will understand what I’m going for.”

Yeah, about six of them did, Lev sighed and shook the memory from his head.

What do I do now, then? He thought as he looked up at the roof of the bus stop. “Walk back and see it for myself, finally.” He muttered as he closed his eyes and tried to ponder how he was even going to find his way back after all these years.

“Oh snap, Lev? My man!” A voice called out from nearby, which made him flinch in surprise.

Lev leaned forward, his eyes narrowed as he gazed at the man who had recognised him. He looked to be around Lev’s age, with tanned olive skin, shoulder-length black hair, and an attire that looked like it had been curated exclusively from a thrift store. The stranger’s face did seem awfully familiar, but Lev for the life of him could not put a name to the face.

Noticing Lev’s blank look, the man winced and shook his head. “Aw hell, dude, you don’t recognise me?” his arms sprouted from the brown moth-bitten poncho to emphasise his disbelief.

“It’s me, Reggie!” The man exclaimed.

“Oh damn! Reggie! You’re the last person I’d have expected to run into today!” Lev stood up and walked over to his old friend.

The pair shared a quick hug “How have you been? I don’t think we’ve seen each other since high school.” Lev asked as the pair separated.

Reggie rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “Oh, y’know, I’m just doing my thing... How about you? Are you a fighter or something now? Looking pretty damn lean if I don’t say so myself.”

Lev forced a smile. “No, not a fighter, I actually...” he hesitated, unsure of how wise honesty was right now.

Reggie’s optimistic grin and frozen anticipation made Lev lower his guard, “I just got out of prison. Today, a couple of hours ago, I think.”

Reggie raised an eyebrow, his curiosity well and truly piqued. “Oh damn, that’s like the universe sending a message to us man, bringing us together like this... What did you do to wind up in there? Oh, uh, if you didn’t mind me asking?”

Lev sighed, “It’s a long story.” If anyone is going to believe me, it’s going to be Reggie.

Reggie smirked and wagged a finger. “Now, now, I read somewhere that talking about one’s problems is the best way to like get over them, so you can tell me all about it over a drink, on me of course!”

“...Alright, fine.”

“Sick, come on, there’s this dirty as hell dive bar nearby. It’s freaking awesome, you’ll love it.”

This so-called ‘dirty as hell dive bar’ certainly did live up to that description; named the Pickled Hog, it would have looked like something right out of an old biker film... if it wasn’t for all the mannequins dressed in lingerie and fake pig’s heads… At least Lev hoped they were fake pigs’ heads.

“Uh, Reggie? Are you sure we should be in here?” Lev asked as he tried not to make eye contact with the leather jacket-clad men sitting around the bar.

Reggie gave an informal salute to the men glaring at Lev; they raised their bottles slightly and returned to their drinking. “Don’t worry, dude. You’re an ex-con, I’m somewhat known around these parts, it’s fine.”

One of Lev’s brows raised, “What do you mean you’re known?”

“Hey now, this is about you, don’t try change the subject.”

The pair meandered over to the bar lady, who was smoking while taking a wrench to one of the beer taps.

“Gladis, you old banshee! You know you don’t know what you’re doing!” Reggie teased as Gladis flashed a smile in his direction.

“Gotta get that hot repair man down here somehow. Who’s this? Boyfriend?”

Reggie’s face grew serious, “You know I only have eyes for you… Doll face.” He rasped his best Bogart.

Gladis rolled her eyes then, while expertly talking out of one side of her mouth, while the other side held her cigarette in place, she asked, “Yeah, yeah, what can I get you two lovebirds?”

“You do an electric shark?” Lev asked.

Gladis scoffed, “Yeah, I do, I keep it in my handbag.”

“Oh. Ok. Uh, I’ll have what Reggie’s having then.” A slightly mortified Lev replied.

Once Reggie finished stifling his laughter, “Vodka and water. Please… Toots.”

Gladis pointed her wrench at Reggie, “Twenty per cent surcharge, for you, Humphrey.”

A short while later, the pair were seated in a booth at the rear of the bar. “Well? What do you think? Nasty, or what? I love this place.” Reggie exclaimed as he picked at a wad of gum stuck to the wall of the booth.

“It’s… Something. That’s for sure,” Lev responded as he felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him, brought about by the smells of alcohol and cigarette smoke that wafted in the air.

“So dude, consider this the first step of healing, tell me what did you do to wind up in the slammer?” Reggie asked as he leaned over the table expectantly.

If anyone is going to believe me, it’s him. Lev reminded himself.

Figuring his old friend was going to want to receive a full report, Lev exhaled and began from the fateful night. “So I was the manager at one of the most popular nightclubs in the city, The Jaguar Lounge, you might have been there before.”

Reggie shook his head, “Nah dude, not my jam those places, sorry.”

Lev nodded, expecting as much from his friend. “Anyway, it was sometime after four in the morning, and I was on my way home from work...”

Maybe it was just the first sips of alcohol in ten years, but as Lev began to recount that night, his memories felt much more vivid than when he had told it to the few friends he had made in prison. His skin remembered the chill in the air that night, his nose reminisced about the smell of the rain mingling with the concrete jungle around him.

“What do you mean we need a bigger act!? The guy has at least six platinum albums... Well, yeah, his last couple didn’t sell that great, but he would fill up the club easily for like three weekends.”

“Uh, sir.”

“Look, we get this guy to come in. He sings a few of his hits each night, takes some pictures, drinks some booze...”

“Sir?”

“Hold on a second...” Lev put one hand over his phone and glanced at the taxi driver, who was staring back at him sheepishly, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“The road is blocked, sir.” The driver tapped away at the beaded seat cover that was stretched out over his front passenger seat. Lev looked out the front window to see police cars and officers walking around in the rain.

“I’m just around the corner.”

The driver shook his head, “No, sir, that road’s blocked too.”

Lev sucked his teeth in annoyance and shrugged before putting his phone back to his ear. “Hey, yeah, I’ll call you back later.”

“I’m very sorry, sir.” The taxi driver apologised as Lev dug into his jacket pocket for his wallet.

“Not your fault, what do I owe you?”

“Eighteen, twenty, sir.” Lev handed the driver a twenty-dollar bill and opened the taxi door.

“Keep the change. I hate the coins.”

The driver smiled and nodded. Lev shut the door behind him and stretched his tired arms out in the cold early morning air.

The taxi driver lowered his window. “Have a nice morning, sir... I agree with you about Vince LaRoy, great artist,” he said, which made Lev laugh.

“Thanks, man... Here, call me in a couple of weeks, and I’ll get you in for free to see him. What’s your name, by the way?” Lev handed his business card to the driver.

“Oh, thank you, sir! It’s Naveen sir, my friends call me Navi. Thank you very much!” The driver grinned before waving to Lev and driving off with a huge smile. Lev began to walk gingerly towards the street he lived on as he complained under his breath about his aching feet. What is it with nightclubs and cement floors?

A police officer leaning against a barrier glared at Lev as he came near the street corner, “No entry, move along.”

“I live right there. I’m just trying to go home.”

The police officer continued glaring at Lev and shook his head. “Did I stutter? Go get a hotel or something!” one hand wrapping around his nightstick.

“It’s four-thirty-six in the morning. I’m not about to go anywhere else. I’m like four houses down that way.”

The cop’s fiery look disappeared and went blank. He stood up straight before he asked, almost like he was sleepwalking. “What’s the address?”

Lev looked at the cop with mild concern. “Huh, are you alright, buddy? I’m at number nineteen... Nineteen Crescent Avenue.”

The cop looked away, spoke into his radio, and then looked back at Lev, still with a blank expression. “There has been a murder at that address. You will come with me for questioning.”

“Wait, what did you say? Who was it? Is Jessica alright? She’s my fiancé, is she alright? Hey! Let me go! Is Jessica Alright? Where is she!”

The officer walked over to him and proceeded to manhandle him to the cold, wet pavement without a word. Soon, another couple of officers arrived and helped stand Lev back up. In silence, the trio of officers pushed Lev over to one of their cars.

“What the hell is going on?” Lev exclaimed as one of the officers removed his watch and rummaged through Lev’s jacket and pants pockets for his wallet and phone before the other two officers stuffed him into the back of the car.

“Hey, just answer my question. Who was murdered?” Lev shouted.

No response.

The drive to the police station would have been a silent affair if it wasn’t for Lev’s desperate questioning to try and find out if Jessica was alright. The two officers in front remained silent, their gazes fixed in front of them.

At the police station, Lev was photographed and put into a cell where he was left to frantically pace the bars, calling out to get his phone call or for answers to his fiancé’s safety. An hour passed until a strange, short man appeared with a clipboard and stood before Lev, scribbling intently. “Hey, do you know what’s going on? Who was murdered? Is my fiancé ok? Her name is Jessica Dalton. Long blonde hair, tall, taller than me... Are you listening?” Lev shook at the bars. The short man, who looked more like a butler or servant than anyone who worked in a police station, stopped scribbling and looked up at Lev with a smile.

“How tall would you say you are?” The man asked, his voice devoid of any emotion.

“What the hell? Is my fiancé alright or not!? Answer me!” The short man looked down at his clipboard, and in that moment, it sounded an awful lot to Lev like the man chuckled. “You think this is funny? You son of a...” He growled as he reached through the bars to try to snatch the clipboard to see if it had any information to answer his question. To his luck, he just managed to grip the metal clip on top and yanked it out of the short man’s hands.

Lev quickly read through the scribbles, desperate to see if it said anything about Jessica. “Lev... Six feet, brown hair, average build... What the hell is this?” Lev exclaimed in confusion.

“It’s your prisoner registry, for your crime of murdering Jessica Dalton.”

Lev felt all the air in his lungs leave his body, and his legs grew weak. “What, I-I didn’t, I was at work... She was fine when I left in the morning. Wh-who did it...” Lev slumped to the ground and threw the clipboard at the bar in distress. The short man seemed to chuckle again and turned to walk away. “What the hell is so funny!?” Lev growled as he lunged at the bars and tried to grab the short man as he walked away.

“It’s quite fortuitous that you showed up as you did.” The short man said as he left.

The rage, anger and confusion quickly crumbled, replaced with devastation. She can’t. She can’t be. His mind raced as his head sagged against the cell bars.

“Dude, what?” Reggie asked in disbelief at Lev’s story thus far.

Lev sighed and looked up from his glass. He was thankful to be coming out of that flashback and not finding himself back in prison. “The next day, they did some bullshit trial, I was sentenced and in prison by the end of the day.”

Reggie cocked his head to one side. “How does that even make sense? That’s not how it works, is it?”

“The whole thing was bizarre, to say the least.”

“Wait, what about your lawyer? Surely he could have gotten this case thrown out?” Reggie interrupted.

Lev shook his head. “They didn’t even let me get my phone call, let alone get myself a lawyer. They just gave me a ‘state-appointed‘ one.”

“And he couldn’t manage to get the case thrown out or even put on hold for real evidence?” Reggie asked, still in disbelief.

Lev shook his head once more. “The whole thing played out like a bad dream. Everyone talked like they were sleepwalking or robots or... I don’t even know what. Pretty sure I heard more than a couple pairings of these people mutter to each other something about ‘the master‘ and how he will be pleased.” Lev sighed and finished his drink.

Freedom doesn’t make that any easier to drink.

Reggie stood up in shock, “Dude, were you set up by like, robots?” Then he slinked back down as several people in the bar looked at him with concern.

“Wh-what? No. I mean, I guess they could have been robots... No, no, I don’t know what it was, but they weren’t robots.” Lev said, exasperated by his friend’s response and slightly regretting telling him about his experience.

“Man, talk about a crazy situation. I wonder who this master of theirs is, then? What I do know is... Your girl might not be dead after all... I think she was taken for this master person.” Reggie said, practically muttering to himself.

Lev looked at him with his eyes wide, with a feeling he hadn’t felt in over ten years washing over him. “What did you say?”

“Dude, this sounds like a cover-up, so nobody goes looking for her. Open and shut case, dude, no need for anybody to go looking too deep into forensics and stuff, nobody bothers to check for her body in the morgue or coroner’s reports. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. That’s totally what the little dork meant when he said it was fortuitous you came along!” Reggie explained his thoughts to Lev.

Maybe it was just because it was what he wanted to hear, that Jessica was still alive out there somewhere, but Lev found a sliver of hope, one that he wasn’t about to let go of.

“I need to go see for myself, the house,” Lev said.

Reggie nodded in agreement. “Totally dude. We can go back to my place and get my van, and head there right now if you want.”