It took Johnny half an hour of running, stopping to catch his breath, and then running again before he returned to the bar, but the neon sign above the door was unlit and the windows were dark.

Damn it.

Maybe Marcie was OK, and the Calzene hadn't done anything really bad to her. Johnny hoped so. It wasn't her fault after all, and he'd actually quite liked her. In fact, he'd liked her a lot, and he’d undeniably felt a sexual chemistry between them too. Before Rocco’s stupid intervention, she had been friendly and lucid and spoken to Johnny like no woman had ever done before, telling him things about herself. In fact… He knew what her address was, didn't he? Yes, yes. What was it, something about her star-sign…no her birthday…that's right, her birthday! It was the same as…the same number as her apartment… Apartment 26. Near the hospital wasn't it, or the Theatre or something? …a new building on Denver, Dessler… Dexter. That's right, a new building on Dexter, next to the old theatre; it was just around the corner from here. There was a new sense of purpose in Johnny’s stride as he headed in that direction.

He would check that she was fine.

Just check.