Chapter 80

Splashing water on his face did little to help his light-headed daze, but did make him realize he was desperately thirsty. He’d had nothing to eat or drink in, what…thirty-six hours?

A glass of water left him feeling better, but a hunt for food turned up nothing more appetizing than pickles and some moldy bread.

He took a deep breath, tried to pull himself together. There was a bodega on the corner where they didn’t make a big deal about him. If the doorman let him out the back, he might get there without being recognized.

Or maybe some reporter would try to mess with him, and he’d finally have an outlet for the endless scream that kept vibrating under his skin.