In the Dead of the Night

The night was chilled with autumn air. It was a nightly hour. Diana zipped up her black sweatshirt and flipped her hood up. Her dark hair cut to her neck hung in her face as she passed the local Laundromat. She looked up at one of the windows on the second floor and saw a light flicker off. She continued down the pathway. Behind her, she heard the sound of a door opening and someone stepping out of the Laundromat. She didn’t glance over her shoulder. Instead, quiet Diana continued to walk down the sidewalk, hands in pockets.
He caught sight of her.
She slid her hands out of her pockets and put her hands under her armpits for warmth. “It might be…” she said out loud, “but it sure is cold.” A darkly painted fingernail scratched her forehead. Her converse dragged against the pavement.
She was young. Sixteen, maybe less.
Diana listened to a car pass her on the street. She jumped when she saw it was a cab. Yet, then she eased at the thought that he was out. Why she felt safe with this murder on the loose is beyond me.
A hand. Firm yet soft.
A hand grabbed hold of Diana’s shoulder. It spun her around and forced her up against the side of this apartment building she happened to be walking in front of. Her hood slid off and you could clearly see her face.
“Why are you a follower of MAX?”
“What? Who are you? What are you doing?”
“Answer the question.”
“You answer mine!”
“I’m not afraid to threaten you. I’m not going to ask again.”
Diana paused. “He knows who to kill and who not to kill.”
“Do you think that you’re someone he should kill?”
“Who says it’s a he?” Diana knew she got this guy. She just found out information she wasn’t supposed to know… and this guy knew it.
He put both hands on her shoulders. “Listen here, and listen good. Thousands of people are following MAX and his quest to kill. All I want to know is why.”
“Why because you think everyone is sick and twisted for believing in him. Yeah, I know. I’ve heard it all before. You’re just another one of those people that just don’t understand what he’s thinking. But I do. He is trying to be a hero. He is saving millions of people at the cost of a few hundred criminals.”
He was silent. He didn’t speak right away. He watched Diana intently before answering. “It’s not justice, you know. He can get killed himself for what he is doing. Even if it is helping others, killing isn’t right.”
“It is if it’s the right people.”
Is this the kind of idea people are getting? “Your wrong,” he said. “You don’t have a clue. So, stop talking like you do.”
“Whatever, now who exactly are you? Can you let me go, now? I really don’t feel like calling the police and dealing with them right now.”
He lowered his hands. “Hmm… pity.” His eyes drifted down the sidewalk. “Still, thank you for the information.”
Diana stared at the guy curiously. He seems young, but he talks like he’s freaking fifty. “Well, it was no big deal. Um… have a nice night.” With that, Diana continued to walk home blissfully unaware of who she just spoke with.