"Of course I called the ambulance," said Arlene. "But not for..." She didn't know his name. "Not for this man. He does not wish to receive professional medical attention." She didn't sound very sure of herself at all, after all, what if he really needed it? Never mind that, though. "However, I suspect that he has a severe mental illness, and he is in need of a mental hospital. He doesn't have anywhere to go. I'm not sure what to do, and if you can provide any help in that respect, I would owe you greatly. Or, he would. Never mind the food." She said all this loudly enough for James to hear, because she didn't see why she should care that he heard; it was the truth, wasn't it? "As for the sword," she went on, "I have no clue. I asked." 
---
Finally the crowd thinned, and Dwayne took in gasp after gulping gasp of cold air. He hoped the crowd would keep in its frenzied state, maybe trample the man he'd bitten until the bite was too hard for investigators to see. After a while he got the sense to shit his mouth so people couldn't see his sharp teeth. [i]Get away. Get away. There's so many people there. They won't find out. They'll never find out.[/i] He wandered for a long time, slinking in alleys and trying to look inconspicuous. He came across Central Park after God-knows how long of walking just to get away.