The Last Survivor (A Wilde/Chase Short Story) Read Online Free

around and head for Little Italy, fast. ‘Eddie, what is happening?’ Natalia asked in alarm.
    ‘Nina might be in trouble,’ he replied. He tried to call her, only to go straight through to voicemail. ‘Fuck! Her phone’s off!’
    Nina continued her leisurely stroll along Mulberry Street. The crowds grew as more people came out to enjoy the sun and the food, which she decided was both an annoyance and a blessing; the latter because the longer the lines at each stall, the more it would discourage her from stuffing her face. ‘Sorry, kid,’ she said, putting a hand on her abdomen as she passed one particular stand. ‘No biscotti for you today. Although …’ She gave a longing look at the delicacies. ‘Well, you do need me to eat so you’ll grow up big and strong, don’t you?’
    She reversed course, swerving around a pudgy elderly couple following her. Someone behind them complained loudly as a blond man made a sharp change of direction away from her, pushing past them. Thinking no more of it, she joined the line.
    The stall was popular; it took her a few minutes to be served. While she waited, she listened to snippets of conversation from passers-by. A young boy asked his father when ‘the big flying ship’ was going to arrive, and was told that the airship’s overflight was due in ten minutes. She smiled at the child’s literalism, and at the thought that if all went well, it would not be long before she would be fielding similar enquiries of her own.
    She finally bought her chocolate and hazelnut biscotti and resumed her walk. Her mood had improved no end, to the point that she had almost got over her earlier infuriation with Eddie. There was still a lingering resentment of his accusation that she was refusing to face up to Macy’s death, however. If he had any idea what she endured every night, he would know how utterly unfair that was …
    In her preoccupied state, she didn’t notice that the blond man had once again taken up position behind her, using the crowd to hide himself. His eyes never left her as he followed his target down the street.
    Eddie made another attempt to call Nina, only to get her voicemail yet again. ‘Turn your bloody phone on!’ he barked before hanging up. ‘How much further?’
    ‘Almost there,’ said the driver. ‘Two more blocks.’
    Natalia peered down the street. ‘There are a lot of people,’ she said, seeing pedestrians heading along East Houston Street towards the festival’s northern end. ‘How will you find her in the crowd?’
    ‘Good question,’ he replied, having already worried about exactly that. He had checked the festival’s website on his phone during the cab ride, finding that the closed section of Mulberry Street was over half a mile long, and also extended into several side streets. ‘Looks like I’ll be doing a lot of shouting.’
    ‘I will help you,’ she offered. ‘Does she still have red hair?’
    ‘Yeah, of course,’ said Eddie, slightly surprised. ‘Why wouldn’t she?’
    Natalia’s eyes widened. ‘Oh! I am sorry. Her hair is so bright, I thought it was fake.’ She blushed.
    He managed a brief smirk. ‘I’ll tell her you said that.’
    Now she looked mortified. ‘No, please do not!’
    The taxi pulled up at the intersection of East Houston and Mulberry; the Englishman hurriedly paid the driver and jumped out. The young German grabbed her bag and followed him. ‘Where do we go?’
    He pointed across the street, where a banner and innumerable Italian flags marked the festival’s northern entrance. ‘Down there.’ They hurried over the crosswalk, pushing into the crowd. ‘Nina!’ he yelled, drawing annoyed looks from those around him. ‘Nina, are you here?’ He searched for anyone with red hair. There were a few, but none were his wife. It struck him that not only had she been here for some time, but she might not even have entered the festival at this end of Mulberry Street; she had probably come by subway, and there