Udo’s body seized violently, went rigid, and then fell limp.
Will released his headlock, lifted himself off the big man, and rose up onto one knee. Udo blinked and shook his head, trying to snap himself out of the fog of pain and disorientation. After a second’s pause, Udo cursed and tried to stand, desperately wanting to get back into the fight.
Will zapped him in the back of the neck, this time depressing the trigger for a full five seconds. Gasps, cheers, and even laughter erupted from the crowd around them, as a dark, wet stain spread across the groin of the bounty hunter’s blue jeans. Will ignored the commotion. He had to stay focused. He studied his fallen foe for a moment just to be sure. Udo was out; it was over. He stuffed the stun gun in his coat pocket, turned, and then plowed through the wall of spectators caging him in.
He had no idea where he was running, but it didn’t matter. He needed to put distance and bodies between himself and Wenceslas Square. Law enforcement officers were no doubt already en route to the site of the scuffle; surely cell phone calls had been made. Dodging tourists and window-shoppers right and left, he barreled through the streets of Old Town Prague. He yanked the wool cap from his head, pulled the maroon scarf off of his neck, and shoved them into his bulky jacket pockets as he ran. Running was necessary, but it also attracted attention. He needed somewhere safe to bide time until two o’clock when he would meet Julie at the Orloj. His first thought was to hide in an alley, but that was too obvious. He needed somewhere public but private, if there was such a thing. His mind raced, generating options and then quickly rejecting them. He came to an intersection and turned right on instinct. After rounding in the corner, he slowed to a walk.
He needed to change his appearance. His barn jacket had a weathered tan canvas exterior and a plaid flannel inner liner. Technically, it was not reversible, but he was improvising. He shrugged the coat off, pulled both coat sleeves inside out, and then slipped it back on. When he was in college and needed a quiet place to study where nobody could find him, he would hole up in the campus library. A library. That was the perfect place to hide. He could get lost in rows and rows of books. Besides, thugs and books have a natural aversion to each other.
It took him only two attempts — stopping and soliciting helpful-looking pedestrians — to obtain directions to the “big library.” Ten minutes later, he was standing outside the grand Klementinum complex, which appeared to span two full city blocks. The ornate Baroque façade was crafted using decorative columns and alternating panels of contrasting beige and brown plaster. As he approached the entrance, he noticed an armed security guard walking a leisurely perimeter patrol. Inside his pocket, he fingering the stun gun nervously. In a post-9/11 world, metal detectors at museums and national landmarks were commonplace. He couldn’t risk it. He waited until the guard was facing the opposite direction and dropped the stun gun into a trash receptacle.
Once inside, he approached a directory and considered three landmark attractions: the Mirror Chapel, the Astronomical Tower, and the Baroque Library Hall, which housed the National Library of the Czech Republic. He turned toward the National Library and followed the signs to the Baroque Hall.
After purchasing a single day pass for access to all the library reading rooms, he walked through the Baroque Library Hall. He marveled at the opulent marble works, dramatic frescoes painted by Jan Hiebl, and tiers and tiers of leather bound books. After exploring, he settled into a routine, splitting his time between the Reference Centre, the Main Hall, and comfortable chairs in the various reading rooms. He stayed in the library until closing time at ten o’clock. With his hands in his pockets, he smiled at the front desk attendant and strolled back out into the world.
It had rained while he was in the library and the wet cobblestones of the street glistened in the moonlight. He surveyed the immediate landscape, trying to decide which way to walk, when he spied a bald man wearing a leather coat. Panic erupted inside him. The man’s back was turned, and he was standing alone, in the middle of the tiny parking lot at the entrance to the Klementinum. The fact that he had not seen Will’s exit was a miracle. Will resisted the urge to sprint; instead, he turned and walked briskly away in the opposite direction. The sound of tires driving on cobblestones sent a shot of adrenaline into his bloodstream. Shit. Will glanced back over his shoulder expecting to see the two thugs in pursuit, but instead he saw the bald man embrace a blonde woman and get into the passenger seat of her BMW 135i. As the couple sped away, Will took several deep breaths, collected himself, and then set off walking.
He decided he would spend the remaining time hiding in a local pub. He wanted somewhere lively, crowded, and packed with tourists. Somewhere he could get lost in the herd and maybe even talk a happy drunk into swapping jackets. After ducking his head in several pubs, he finally found the perfect spot. Were he not running for his life, he would have happily capped off every night in Prague at a place like this. He milled about the bar until he saw a corner table open up. He slid into the booth from the right side at the same time a woman slid in from the left. They bumped hips, locked eyes, and burst into laughter. She was at least fifteen years his senior, hailed from Dublin, and was on vacation with her husband who was standing in line at the bar. He chatted happily with the couple, sharing the booth for the better part of two hours. While they entertained him with stories of their travels, he sipped on a glass of dark ale. It had been over five months since he’d had a beer, and every swallow was a sumptuous kiss to his palette. However, his body was so unaccustomed to alcohol that halfway through his first pint, Will was already buzzing. He resisted the temptation to order another; it was imperative he keep his wits about him. Eventually, the Irish couple excused themselves, and he was left alone.
His thoughts drifted to Julie. He imagined how the reunion might happen. Would she recognize him? Had the years been kind to her; was she still beautiful? What would it feel like to hug her? Would she let him embrace her? What would she think of him — drawn and unkempt as he was. Unexpectedly, he felt nervous as a wealth of memories and feelings he had suppressed for years came rushing over him.
The rowdy crowd in the tavern mellowed and thinned as the night wore on. During his time at the library, Will had printed Google maps depicting the streets between the Klementinum and the Astronomical Clock. The tavern was conveniently located only a few blocks from the Orloj, so he decided to stay put until the hands on the clock above the bar showed ten minutes until two o’clock. When it was finally time to go, Will paid his tab, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and set off to meet Julie. Within minutes, he was standing in front of Old Town Prague’s most famous landmark.