And then there was one...

"How many limes would you like with your Vodka soda?" asks the Bartender in a rather attentive manner.

I slide over some change left from the person before me and pretend it is mine.

He smiles.

"Three," I say before slipping back into the crowd.  The air of the club is stank.  Iranian looking business men circle around badly dyed Blonds wearing skirts reminiscent of tensor bandages.

The crowd is thick.  Desperation fills the air as 'last call' seeps into the foreground while lonely genitals rummage for company.

"Excuse me," I snark at men who can't be bothered to step aside.  They don't notice me because I'm not wearing a tensor bandage.  I steer myself in five inch heels through the thickest part of the perfume ladden crowd --
 

WHEELCHAIR!

I bash my knee into the spokes and pretend that nothing happened.

I didn't know you could bring a wheelchair in the bar....

How did they get it up the stairs?

I push through the crowd like a sturgeon on a mission.  More tensor bandages blur the periphery of my drunken vision as I make my way to the back wall and turn around to scan for my friends.

Nothing.

I look left, then right -- but I am alone.  Surrounded by mutants.

I head back - only this time more quickly, through the thick and desperate crowd.

My intoxication confuses me.  The hot air makes it difficult to think.

Left...no...right...no...left.

I make my way back towards the Iranians.  

A tensor bandage is sick in the corner.  A new layer of stench adds to the mix.

I scurry.

Through the crowd...

....past the WHEELCHAIR!

"Sorry," I say to the girl as I pretend to sop up what I spill on her.   "It's just water," I lie.

In the distance I see the doorway.  Fresh cool air graces past my cheek as I race from the herpes infestation that surrounds me.

Wobble, wobble, click.

My heels have not failed me.

A moment later I breathe in thick fresh air. 

Relief.

I scan.

But they are no where in sight. 

Not a one.

They are gone.

I check my phone to see if anyone's told me where they've gone; but there is only a simply message saying they are west of here. 

A cab winks at me in the distance, and as I manoever myself to my chariot, away from the chaos and towards salvation; I realize both my fate and my destiny:

To go it alone.


One last time.


Inspiration is once again upon me.


The final chapters have begun.