Chapter 35

I got to the lab at a little after seven a.m. Parked in a lot that was empty save for Nicole’s silver Cherokee. The front doors were locked. The lobby beyond appeared to be empty. I tried Nicole’s cell phone but got no answer. Shit. I moved around the side of the building, wondering if there was another entrance. Nothing.

I walked along the back of the building now. The El ran close by. I tried Nicole’s cell again. Still nothing.

My heart rate ticked up a bit, and I felt for the gun clipped to my waist. A line of dark red streaked along the cement to my left and up into a rusted set of girders. I knelt down and ran my hand across the stain. Still wet.

In the distance I could hear the rumble of an approaching train. I moved underneath the tracks. Quickly now, the rumble grew. The ground shook, the approaching train threatening to block out any other reality. I swung between a second set of girders.

Nicole was lying on her back, head tilted, mouth open, the only sound the train as it roared overhead. Around her throat was a necklace of bright red, sweating heavily every time she took a breath, soaking the University of Chicago sweatshirt she wore underneath. I knew enough to know it was arterial blood. Probably a straight razor, used from behind. I knew enough to know that no tourniquet, CPR, or first aid would save my friend’s life. Instead I just held her close. Her eyes tracked mine. She didn’t try to speak, just focused on me, accepted her fate. Within a minute or so, the light began to fade. She squeezed my hand once, then slipped away, quietly, in the early morning, under the El tracks.

I placed her back down on the ground and thought about all the times we never had, all the things I never said, all the things most people probably think of—way too much to contemplate and way too late in the game. Then I pulled out my cell phone and punched in 911. I held Nicole until I heard the first ambulance. Then I put her down for the last time, walked away, and wondered when I was going to cry.