Sol clutched the side of his skull and groaned. A stinging pain had fought its way through the adrenaline rush and was now devouring the left side of his head. He looked around to find the street was totally void of life. He stumbled towards a nearby car and sat down inside. The small auto had been left in drive, rolled for a bit and stopped when it had bumped a lamppost. Sol looked around, making sure no one would see him drive away in the stolen car. Before he pulled away, he watched Thomas run into a store. For a moment, he considered asking him if he wanted a lift, but upon remembering why the police had arrested him in the first place, changed his mind and decided it was imperative to going into hiding. He sped down the vacant streets, almost hitting a bench.
Ahead, Sol could hear sirens approaching, and pulled over. He would leave the car there and take back alleys home. Things went as planned and he ran for almost an hour before reaching his home, stopping behind a fence nearby. Several patrol cars sat idly in front of his flat, waiting for his return no doubt. Sol instead crossed the street and quietly broke into the back door of the corner shop. Here he'd be able to treat his wounds and maybe get some water. The store possessed an eery silence, that broke only momentarily when Sol would move to the next aisle. When he had collected himself, he checked his flat again, only to find the police still waiting. He took a seat in a chair next to the window and waited a few hours for them to leave. They had suddenly taken off towards downtown in a storm after one of the officers answered a radio transmission. The man had nervously signalled the others that there was trouble. Sol didn't care what the problem was yet and headed for his flat, where he could change and get ahold of himself.
As he changed clothes, he thought of the man in the police truck, Thomas West. The fellow hadn't done any harm to Solomon, so he hoped that he had made it to safety as well. He decided since the sun was setting that travel would be easier. Half the guards were busy with something downtown and it was shift change. Sol stopped and retrieved a straight razor from his bag. It was his only means of defense, and hoped he wouldn't have to use it tonight. His path would lead him back the way he came, back towards the scene of the accident. It was this way to Gloria's flat, and he hoped the woman who had left him five months earlier would find it in her heart to forgive him and be able to help him stay off the grid.