Snippet #2467574

Marcus continued down the street, his destination in sight. An old warehouse, showing obvious signs of disrepair. It used to serve as a storage facility for a shipyard that was nearby, but now it stood empty. People in the city knew it well, however. It was the place that the Handprint killer made his final stand. He had killed three cops in the shootout, and Marcus had been shot and captured inside. The memory was still fresh for Marcus. The constant barrage of gunfire, tearing apart the brick walls of the building. The deafening roar of the gun as Marcus returned fire. The unbelievable pain as the bullets struck him. But there was something else that was there. Something that was still there.

It was as simple as removing a few old bricks from the wall, and Marcus found it. a large cigar box, taped at both ends. Marcus tore off the tape and set the box on a ledge. Opening it, he removed three items from inside. The first, his wallet. He rifled through the wallet, taking a quick inventory. There was a couple twenties, assorted business cards, his old debit card, and his driver's license (up for renewal this year). He slipped the wallet into his back pocket and picked up the next item. It was a keyring, containing keys to his (old) apartment, his car (impounded), and a key to a storage lockup on the east side of town. These too he pocketed and picked up the final item. It was a large pocket knife, with a black textured handle. He flicked it open, revealing the long and curved blade. Even after two years, the steel still gave off a slight sheen. He gave it a quick slash through the air, with the knife giving a satisfying swish as it cut through the air. Marcus closed the blade in an almost reverent way, depositing it into his coat pocket. With his belongings collected, Marcus left the warehouse far behind.

-~-

Marcus sat by the river, looking at Northside over the water, eating the food he took from the convenience store. The city looked very inviting, as if it was calling for him to come over. If he was going to be able to truly hide, he'd need to. Unfortunately, the bridges were closed and a few police boats were on the river. He'd have to come up with something clever if he planned on getting over into the main side of the city. Marcus finished up the meal and stood up. "What to do, what to do..." And with that, Marcus stuck his hands in his pockets and began to walk, thinking of ways to cross the river.