"Hero?" Ken asked, absolutely dumbfounded. "What the hell do you mean 'hero'?"
Terry smiled. "I know what you're thinking, Ken. You can't fool me."
"Look," Ken said, pulling out his gun again, "I was thinking nothing of the sort, so..."
"Not on the surface, no," Terry explained, smiling. "It was all..." the blind man tapped the back of his head, "...back here."
"You haven't told me what these things are yet, Terry!" Ken said, as the screeching sounds approached with deafening thuds echoing throughout the car.
"There is no need," Terry said, shaking his head, his hair and beard shaking with it. "As I said before... they will tell you."
A force struck Ken's arm at the moment, sending his arm upwards and firing a random shot into the roof of the ceiling of the car. The gun then was wrenched from the officer's hands and crushed before his eyes.
"Sit down," a commanding, disembodied voice hissed from the air somewhere above above Ken's head. Without his gun to arm him, Ken felt compelled to sit... at least for now.
As he sat, Terry patted him on the arm reassuringly. He looked over at Terry, who turned his head to face the young man, as though looking at him through his blindfold.
A thought entered Ken's head just then. It'll all be alright, it said... but not in Ken's voice.
"You have killed one of our own," the commanding voice from above said. "We, however, are not unreasonable or unrelenting. We are not complete animals. We killed one of yours. Blood must be repaid."
"Look, that's not why I did what I did," Ken began, trying to explain.
"We understand your justice system," another voice said. "We, however, are not interested in it."
"We seek out our own justice," the first voice said. "Things are different below the ground. The old man can tell you."
Terry nodded once, sagely, in response to his being 'called out'.
"We do, however, feel compelled to warn you, hew-man," the voice continued. "Get out while you can. Our vendetta is not against you... and it needn't be."
"I -- I don't understand," Ken said, genuinely confused by this.
"Your understanding is of no import," the second voice said. "We take our leave of you now. Heed our warning... or we will be forced to kill you."
The screeching began again, this time retreating from the spot where Ken sat. The two men sat alone in the car for a long time until the sounds of the chameleon creatures had effectively subsided.
Ken turned to Terry. "Alright, buddy, start talking!" he said, grabbing the bum by the arm and standing him up on his feet.
"Certainly," Ken said with a wry smile. "What do you wish to talk about?"
"Don't play dumb with me, old man," Ken said in frustration. "You can get inside my head... so I know you know what I'm talking about!"
"No," Terry answered.
"'No' what?"
"I am not in league with these creatures," Terry said simply. "I know that's what you are thinking. It is untrue."
"Then what were they talking about?" Ken asked. "When they said, 'The old man can tell you'? What were they talking about?"
"I am a bum in a subway," Terry replied. "I have lived my life here. I know the ins and outs... the comings and goings. Life is different down here than up there. That is merely a fact of the matter."
Ken looked frustrated, looking around the car angrily, but always landing his gaze on Terry.
"Alright, you're coming with me," Ken said, grabbing the elderly man by the arm.
"Where are we going?"
"Downtown," Ken said. "You've just become my key witness."
"You mean, you will not heed their warning?" Terry asked. "You will continue to investigate?"
"Of course," Ken answered, leading the man out of the car. "It's my responsibility to the city."
Terry said nothing as a small smile crept across his lips.
