I wake up on Burt's whisky soaked couch. The smell giving me a headache. Sunlight beaming in through the blinds making it all the worse.

The light confirming what a night of discomfort had led me to believe. As I see a sea of holes left by cigarette burns littering the couch. It's a wonder with the mixture of the two. How the whole thing hasn't gone up in flames yet.

I stand up and brush myself off. Already fully dressed. I spent the night that way, as I'm not entirely comfortable here.

Burt must have already been awake. As before I can finish straightening my shirt, he enters the living room.

"Ready to hit the bricks?"

He asks me.

I would have never pegged Burt for being a morning person. So I'm surprised to not only see him up, but so chipper and ready to go.

"Let's go."

I reply, enthusiastically. To match his level of energy.

We get out onto the busy street and Burt rushes off saying.

"I know a great place for coffee follow me."

When I catch up to him he's stopped. Addressing a man standing behind a cart with a large umbrella on the street corner. Burt says.

"Morning Frank. Better make it two today. I'm working with a partner."

"Coming right up buddy."

As he starts to pour two large black coffees. He continues talking.

"Any luck with Donna yet?"

"No not yet. But I'll win her over, you'll see."

Burt takes the coffees and walks over to me, handing me one.

"This should hold us over for the morning. Let's get on the subway and head to the police station."

He points with his coffee towards a staircase heading underground, and begins walking towards it. I wait for him to walk past me, then follow.

We stand on the platform looking down a long dark tunnel. A few other people are standing with us. The train roars into view and scares me half too death. I jump back and bump into a man behind me.

No one else moves at all until the train has come to a complete stop, and the doors open. A few people get off. Then everyone from the platform gets on.

I sit beside Burt. Two seats, right near the door. Everyone on the train is staring at us. Not just as we get on. Several minutes pass and still they stare at us. I lean over to Burt and whisper.

"Why is everybody looking at us."

A shrug is his only reply. So I resign myself to sipping my coffee and trying to ignore the eyes watching me.

Burt leads me into the police station where we find a frazzled looking women with gigantic glasses sitting behind the desk.

"What can I help you with today?"

She asks, before we even get to the desk.

Burt starts asking the questions.

"We were wondering if there been any missing persons reports filled lately?"

"Nope."

The women replies.

"Really? None at all?"

"No sir. We haven't had any in years."

"What about bodies found. Any suspicious deaths or anything of that nature?"

"Nope. Nothing like that either."

"Well what kind of crimes have you been handling here?"

"I really can't say sir."

"Right right, confidentiality. I get it."

"It's not like that at all sir. I just don't know what crimes have been going on."

"So how do you know there haven't been any missing persons or suspicious deaths?"

"I don't know that sir. But you asked about reports. There have been no reports. Part of my job is to file the paper work but there hasn't been any."

"Well why not?"

"Because this precinct is entirely renegade cops that don't play by the rules. So no one files any reports."

"Okay, can I speak to one of these cops please?"

"Of course. Right this way please."

The women uses a key card to unlock a door and leads us through it. There we see several desks. All cluttered and covered in trash. A few with men sitting behind them.

Finally she stops at one of them. She turns to us and says.

"There's a trick to getting their attention. You just need to yell their last name. Nothing else will do it. She breathes in deeply and lets out a loud.

"Clemsen!"

As she bangs a fist on his desk.

Clemsen shakes himself to attention. As though he had been asleep and day dreaming. She continues.

"These gentlemen would like to ask you a few questions."

Burt extends an arm for a handshake, and begins talking.

"Good morning Officer Clemsen. This may sound a bit odd. But my client and I were wondering if there has been any missing persons reported to you lately? Or suspicious deaths?"

Clemsen eyes the two of us for a few seconds.

"Why would you want to know something like that?"

"A friend of my clients has gone missing. There doesn't seem to be anyone that would have been targeting them. This individual owned nothing of significance or value. So we believe it was a random act of malice. What we are currently trying to determine is if it is an isolated event. In which case we are at a dead end. Or a rash of related events. From which we would hope to find further clues."

Clemsen continues eyeing us for a few seconds. Then turns to me and asks.

"Have you gone to the police yet?"

I open my mouth, about to speak when Burt interrupts and answers on my behalf.

"My client has yes. But it's been a few days and he has not heard back from the officer yet. So he came to me for additional help."

"I didn't hear anything about another murder."

Clemsen says.

"It was officer Kerner we initially reported to."

I watch in shock at the ease with which Burt reams out lies. Clemsen continues.

"Of course it was. Kerner thinks the rules don't apply to him. Never reports anything. Anyways, I can't help you. We do not discuss the details of ongoing investigations with civilians."

Outside, Burt said he needs another coffee. And he wants to head back to Frank's cart to get some. On our way to the subway I started to ask him some questions.

"Why did you lie back there?"

"Because we would seem like suspects ourselves if I didn't."

"Okay. But didn't you already know he would say he can't share the details with us?"

"I did yes."

"Then why did we come all the way here?"

"Because he did tell us there have been murders. We may not know how many. But he clearly said "I didn't hear anything about another murder." Confirming that there have been previous murders recently. And that they must all be linked as there is an "ongoing investigation". If nothing was happening he would have just said there have been no murders or missing persons."

My eyes go wide as I realize without Burt's help I'd be in way over my head. This is an entirely different world than what I'm use to. I'd probably just be sitting in a hotel room scratching my head.

We cram onto the subway. Now much more crowded than it was earlier. There are no two seats open next to each other. So I am forced to sit next to a man reading a newspaper. Burt sitting across from us.

Everyone is staring at me again. Everyone but the man with the newspaper who keeps his eyes focused.

I try to scan the page to see if there's anything about a murder. As expected there is not. I wait for the man to turn the page so I can scan again, but he never does. Instead he starts to whisper to me. Holding the paper up so no one can see him speak.

"Just listen. Don't say anything."

He begins.

"I can tell you're anxious about being stared at. You must be new here. I was the same way at first. I'm a survivor too. They're all staring at you because this city runs like clockwork. Everyday they take the subway. Every one of them. At the same time. Sitting in the same seats. You're not part of their daily routine and they know it. You aren't at any risk. And you're safe to go into most stores. But if you catch them in a transitional period like this. You're going to stand out and draw attention to yourself. My advice. If you're gonna stay here. Find a routine quick and stick with it."

I give a brief nod but do not say anything. I had been feeling like an alien in a strange land. It had not dawned on me before now that there would be other survivors mixed into the society. I would like the opportunity to talk to some of these survivors. I glace at the mans watch and take note of the time. 11:50 AM.

Back above ground, Burt indicates the direction of Frank's coffee cart and says he does his best thinking with a cigar. Tells me he's gonna go buy some and that I should go get us the coffees. Before he disappears into the crowd.

Making my way towards the cart I see Frank standing behind it. It strikes me as odd that there is a cat on the cart. and Frank is petting it. Starting at the head and all the way down to the tail.

Some people push in front of me and I lose sight of Frank for a few moments. Once I've weaved around them. The tail seems to be missing. It sounds like the cat is hissing. Frank continues petting it.

Suddenly the cat explodes. The cart is engulfed in a ball of flame.

I go blind for a few seconds. When my vision comes back. All I see is a smouldering pile of rubble where the cart had stood.