A Drone over New York
Chapter 12

As quick as he could, Max threw everything into his gym bag. He ripped off his shirt and tossed it toward the bin. It was useless now. The hat was to follow, but he stopped himself. He was going to need a new one. This hat had been identified, but without anything to cover his face, he’d be in more trouble. He still needed it. He is just going to have to chance it and wear it.

After probably the fastest change of clothes Max had ever done, he was finally able to zip his bag shut and prepare to rush out the door. He flashed his eyes around the room, trying to think if he had everything. He needed to get going.

The door slammed behind him and he bolted down the short corridor. He flew down the stairs, taking them three at a time. He was moving so fast he bowled over some poor guy and girl between the first and second floors. But he couldn’t stop.

He didn’t say anything to the lady behind the counter as he rushed out. It was a five-block run to the subway. He had a few more journeys left on his ticket. He could make it.

At the second intersection he had to stop and wait for a car to pass. Max darted between it and the next one. The driver leaned on his horn. Max didn’t stop, though. He just ran as fast as he could. His life might depend on it.

He threw a glance over his shoulder before he descended the stairs into the station. No one seemed to be following him. The drones wouldn’t matter once he was inside.

The barrier wasn’t guarded, so Max leapt over it and rushed down toward the platform. He could hear the training pulling in. He had to hurry. He turned the corner to see the evening peak-hour crowd already starting to appear. He gave a heavy sigh when he saw that the train was almost full. If he was going to make it, he was going to have to get a little rude.

He pushed his way to the front. He didn’t really care where it is going, or who he pissed off, as long as he got on and was getting out of there. No eyes in the sky could follow him while down in the subway. If he was lucky, he could be across town in ten minutes. Once cross town, he could change, get a new hat, and a whole new image. He was going to be safe. He could feel it. It was a lucky escape.

He glanced over his shoulder as the door closed. Some guy who didn’t get on gave Max a death stare. Max just stared him down. There was no chance anyone could have followed him now.

His breathing still heavy, a little lady standing underneath him made a small shuffle away from him. She couldn’t get far, though. The train was packed. The car’s AC blasted over him and he realized how much he must have been sweating. The day’s heat only made it worse. He felt sorry for the poor little lady next to him.

No one following him meant he could try and relax. As long as he was smart, no one would know where he would get off. Slowly his heart rate started to return to normal.

He chose an old station only a few stops away. He knew it wouldn’t have many security cameras. He could also change lines. He hoped that would keep them guessing. Hide in plain sight, and no one would be the wiser.

The doors slid open and he joined the masses trying to get off. There was no use running now. He had to walk, calmly and normally. Draw as little attention to himself as possible. Take the time to notice if anyone was following.

The new line’s platform was somewhat busy and Max did his best to fit in. He pulled out a small pair of headphones from his backpack and placed them in his ears. He plugged the other end into his phone, but only pretended to turn on the music. His head began to bob to a nonexistent beat. It was a trick Jack had taught him. It was great for celebrity stalking.

Max tried to look around while he tapped his foot and mouthed some fake words. Without realizing it, he had chosen a Tyell song. That made him smile.

A few people looked like they could be a threat. Max tried to note what they are wearing and how tall they were, and then to create a story for them. One blue shirt, one white. And a guy with a brewery T-shirt as well—most likely not a threat, but still worth noting.

The train pulled up and Max joined the shuffling crowd as the people got off and on. The afternoon peak hour was well and truly underway.

The three guys all boarded the same car as him. Max did his best not to look in their direction, but he tried to take note of them glancing his way.

Three stops later the blue shirt got off. One more stop, the white one did as well. That left the beer lover.

A few more stops and the beer lover was still with him. Max decided to wait one more stop. Max was already headed toward the door when he realized the guy in the brewery T-shirt had decided to join him. He needed to let him pass, but the crowd pushed him forward, making it hard to pull off to a side.

Max waited until he was out of the station to make his move. He stopped at the top of the stairs, pulled off to the side, and pretended to tie his shoe. The beer guy kept walking. He waved at someone, and Max breathed a sigh of relief as the beer lover met his two people and walked away.

In his rush Max realized he had no idea where he actually was. He looked around. He was on 6th. People continued to pour out of the station around him. He had to keep moving.

Max decided to walk the opposite way of the brewery guy. He had to think of his next move. To do that, he had to get back indoors. Get out of sight of the sky above. He needed a new hat too.

He stopped off at a little café and ordered an iced latté. The lady behind the bar smiled at him. He was still sweating like a pig. It was going to be a long night ahead of him.

Max got his drink and sat down the in the back, away from the window. He went through his bag, dreading the thought of forgetting anything important. Then he tapped his pocket and realized his worst nightmare.

He had left his phone charger plugged in beside the bed.

He swore quietly, but one of the café bus girls heard him and asked what was wrong. He told her. She laughed and said she knew how he felt. Luckily she had her own universal charger with her and offered to charge the phone for him. It was nice. Somehow that made him think of Sarah, and then of Anton. He had definitely done the right thing by going to see him.

She brought out the charger and handed it over as a few other people came in, and the café girl’s attention was drawn away. Max just sat quietly by himself.

He waited an hour before he decided he had to make a move. He wasn’t really sure of where to go, but getting a new hat would be a good place to start.

Max stayed seated until the bus girl was busy clearing a table out front. Then he grabbed his fully charged phone, shoved the charger into his bag, and headed out past the girl, telling her thanks and that he’d left her charger in the wall. He felt bad about stealing it from her, but this was life and death.

After walking half a block, he found a small store with a few cheesy, touristy hats out in front. They were cheap and would serve his purpose, so he was just going to have to bear it.

Forking out $14.95 made Max feel somewhat safe again. But he hesitated putting the hat on. It might be better to wait.

He had one more ticket left, so riding the subway was a good place to think of a new plan.

Relaxed and calm, Max walked down the street, his mind already running through his next move. This time he decided to try and think ahead. He needed to have his escape plan sorted out. Running around like this was his own fault. He should have already selected a safe place to go.

Max got less than a block before a hand grabbed his arm and pushed something into his ribs.

“Relax,” said a gravelly voice, but Max could do anything but. Adrenaline shot through his body. He hoped this was just a random mugging.

Large, heavy hands pushed Max into a small alley. Before Max had a chance to turn all the way around, he felt a fist punch his stomach. He curled over in pain and began to fall, but another hand grabbed him and held him up.

Out of nowhere another pair of the hands started to search him. He had no idea where the second guy came from, but he was here now.

It did not take them long to replace his wallet. Max hoped that would be the end of it. His mind rationalized that it might be a good idea to lose his wallet like this. Someone could use one of his cards, and draw the attention. Max could head the other way.

Instead of grabbing the cash, the guy opened it and started flicking through the cards.

“This is him,” said the other man, who had a strangely raspy voice. This was no random mugging. They had followed him. Somehow they had followed him. They must have switched people during the journey. Or somehow they spotted him when he left the subway.

They ripped his bag away and dumped its contents onto the ground. One of them bent down to toss through his stuff as best he could.

“Where’s the video?” snapped the raspy voice.

“Where is it?” came the other voice as he put his knee into Max’s side. He fell to the ground, but they didn’t let go.

They searched him again, turning his pockets inside out, the contents scattering across the alleyway. One of them grabbed his phone.

“Password?” he rasped.

“Your mum,” Max said in what he figured had to be a fit of insanity.

The guy hit him across the face with the phone and threw it with the rest of his stuff.

“Where is it?” the other man said.

When Max didn’t say anything, one of them slapped him. It hurt. The guy did it again, just to make the point.

But they turned up nothing. They even frisked his socks. Max was worried they might try his shoes. They might replace the key. Then they would have it. He should have used a code. A key could be found. It could be taken. They could beat him until he told them what it unlocked.

“Where’s the video?” the raspy voice kept asking.

“What video?” Max said.

That earned him a fist in the face. His nose stung. He tasted blood.

The other guy turned his backpack upside down again. He picked up the laptop and opened it.

Max felt the two exchange a glance before the guy smashed it against the hard ground. His phablet quickly followed. He tried to stop them, but that got him a boot to the ribs. He was doing his best to work out how to get rid of them. He could say he would show them where he hid it. He would need to come up with somewhere fast. But getting into a car with these guys was a bad idea. If he did that, he was as good as dead.

Nothing came to mind as another boot to the ribs caused him to moan.

“Where is it?” the two men hissed almost simultaneously as one of them followed up with a punch to the face. Max was beginning to feel sick. He couldn’t take much more of this. They were going to kill him if he gave it up. They might even kill him if he didn’t.

He lay on the ground, nose broken and with shoes kicking him from each side. He looked up and saw an Enexup drone hovering. Someone was watching this. Someone was keeping an eye on things. Pulling the strings from somewhere safe.

The shoes kept coming.

The sound of a siren pierced the air, and the two turned and ran before Max realized the police had arrived.

He was saved.

“FREEZE!” yelled an officer, but the two men were already down the alley.

“Drones, pursue!” the other officer yelled.

Max heard the whir of the drones as they took off from the top of the police car and began to follow their targets. They wouldn’t be getting far. One of the officers got back in the car and drove off.

“You okay, sir?” asked the officer as he knelt beside Max. “Did they take anything?”

So many things flashed through Max’s mind, he struggled to grasp the concept of speech. He reached for the words, but they did not come. His mind kept replaying that this was not good. Max couldn’t afford to be caught by the police. They would take his name. If there was anything on the system about him, they would take him in too. Anton’s warning about the police was making his stomach churn. These could be some of the dirty cops. Saving him from the mugging could be a ruse. A way to get the information out of him later. Max had to play it cool. He had to replace a way out. Buy him some time to get away.

“Wallet … They have my wallet,” he said more out of instinct that wisdom.

“Don’t worry, we have them. We’ll get your wallet back. Drone, witness has confirmed robbery. Target confirmed—Taser target. Taser, Taser, Taser!”

The officer paused and watched the readout on his headset before returning his attention to Max.

“Sir, please remain here. I need to go and make the arrest. I’ll return shortly with your wallet.”

As soon as the officer was out of sight, Max decided to make a run for it. He grabbed the burn phone and subway pass lying on the ground and bolted as quick as he could for two blocks. He didn’t care if anything in the sky above saw him. If he made it to the subway, he’d be in the clear. He would be safe.

A transit cop stood at the gate, so Max fumbled with the pass, trying to put it through. His hands kept shaking. Eventually it worked.

He heard the train coming and needed to a moment to work out the platform. He didn’t care where it was going, as long as it was away from here.

Max rushed down the stairs just as the train doors opened.

He pushed his way on and moved down the car. The sounds of the door closing sent a wave of relief through him. But that was as far as he got with feeling okay. Now that he was out of danger, his mind started to try and process what had just happened.

Jammed among the people, Max realized the crowded subway car was probably not the best place to be. The people pressed against him. He was struggling to breath. Everything seemed to close in around him. He just wanted to be alone, away from everyone.

He wanted to scream but had to hold it back. He had to ride it out. He tried to tell himself how tough he was, how smart he was for escaping. It did little to calm him down.

After what seemed like an eternity to the next station, the guy in the corner seat stood up. Max rushed forward and grabbed it eagerly, pushing some suit out of the way in the process. Max didn’t care, though. Huddled in the corner, he was finally out of touching distance with anyone.

He focused on his breathing. He tried to make each breath just a little deeper and slower than the previous. He had to calm down.

At the next station the person in the seat to his left stood up as well. It was a welcome relief of more space. Max tried to enjoy it while it lasted.

The doors rang and closed, yet no one sat down. It was enough to make him calm again. A little bit of space and AC was enough. He went to cry but stopped himself. He needed to be tough if he was going to survive.

He looked around the subway car. A few people were looking at him. Max’s heart began to sink again with the realization that any one of the people around him could be following him. But then again he worried that he was getting paranoid. He ran his hand over his face in a vain attempt to compose himself.

He didn’t take note of it straightaway, but when he looked again, he realized his hand was bloody. The beating he had been given had taken its toll.

He must look horrible.

Slowly and trying not to draw that much attention to himself, he tried to wipe his blood from his hands.

It was a few minutes until he looked up and noticed that many in the subway car had moved away from him.

“You okay?” asked the only other person close to him. He was an African American suit seated directly across from him. Max couldn’t answer, though, and just nodded.

“Here, this should help you feel better. God bless,” said the man as he got up. He held out a can of Coke and an apple. Max reached out and took them without thinking. The man smiled and walked out onto the station’s platform.

Max really didn’t know what to say or do.

The station after that came and went. Slowly, station by station, Max began to become safe in the knowledge that no one was going to replace him. He just looked like another beaten-up homeless person riding the subway.

His mind didn’t let him relax. He now had no wallet, no bag, no laptop, no phablet. His only possessions were a locker key hidden in his shoe, an almost empty MetPass, and a broken burn phone that only one person had the number of.

Now he was in a different type of trouble.