by Raven Steele
"What did you just say?" I asked, taking two threatening steps toward the man in the alleyway, my hands clenched tight. He dropped back at my approach, and his eyes returned to normal. It must've been a trick of the light.
He smiled, exposing brilliant white teeth. Surprisingly, he was several inches taller than me, which I rarely found as I was already six-foot-seven. He had broad shoulders and long limbs, looking more ape than human. His shaggy black hair and hairy arms only added to the image.
"The girl you just saved," he said. "She must be important to you."
I repressed the urge to swallow. "Are you one of Victor's men?"
He chuckled deep in his throat. "Not in the way you think."
"Who are you?"
"Someone who watches the night, but I haven't seen you before."
This gave me some level of comfort. He didn't know who I was, but it did bother me that he had expressed an interest in Emma. "I don't want you coming near her."
He took a few steps back. "Don't worry. I am only to observe."
"Observe what?" I couldn't decide if this guy was a real threat or just incredibly creepy.
He tilted his head. "I wonder. Will you be one of the few to rule the night, or will you be choked out by the day?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
He jerked his head to the side as if someone had called him to attention, but I didn't hear anything.
"I must go."
I didn't stop him as he darted into the shadows, but I did hurry the other direction. It was foolish to have come here. That guy may not be a direct threat, but he recognized Emma's importance to me. If he ever found out my true identity, he could use her against me. I could never forgive myself if something happened to her.
It didn't take me long to reach the last stop on the North subway. Only a few people waited for the next train on dirty tile that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. At least the smell wasn't as bad here as some of the other stops. The handful of people kept their gazes down like everyone else in the city. I shook my head as I passed them. Victor had these people completely cowed. Coast City used to be a friendly place and now people were too scared to even look at each other.
But tonight it worked in my favor.
After making sure no one was watching, I descended the steps into the subway tunnel. It led to one of several hidden entrances into Ironwood. Ironwood was an underground part of Coast City that had long since been forgotten. Over a century and a half ago, Coast City used to be called Ironwood. Being by the coast, the old city was constantly plagued with flooding, so when the city partially burned down in a freak factory accident, the people decided to build up walls on top of the old town to elevate the street level. This left whole areas beneath Coast City, many of them livable but abandoned. Those who did know about them had long since passed or moved away.
The tunnel was cold and smelled of oil and dirt. I would sometimes play in here as a child dodging trains at the last second, sometimes even jumping onto them and riding them for hours. I stepped over the tracks, careful to avoid the third rail that carried enough electricity to kill a man. Sometimes I wondered if it would be strong enough to kill me. But I was unlikely to test that theory any time soon.
I walked until the lights behind me disappeared and only the rumbling of distant trains could be heard. Another train shouldn't come for another four minutes. Darkness smothered any hint of light but I didn't need it to see; my vision was perfect, even in the dark.
I stopped in front of a rusted, metal door. A board had been sealed across the middle and the handle had been chained. Using the back of my hand, I pushed on the metal just beneath the locked handle. The bottom half of the door creaked open, the seal concealed by the board.
Holding my breath, I ducked under the board and hurried through the damp tunnel that led to Ironwood. I exhaled when I pushed my way through another door and into a large room. I couldn't really call it a room. It was more of an entombed town. On each side of me were old storefronts. A metal sign on one of them read ‘Saloon’. Part of the wooden floor was still intact, and I used to ride Emma's bike all over on it. Rubber tracks were still visible from when I would peel out.
The rest of the old street was much of the same. Partially ruined businesses, almost two blocks’ worth, with large, concrete columns supporting the elevated street level above. The ceiling was low in this part of Ironwood, maybe eight feet, but in other parts, it went as high as twenty. That's where I trained with Roman.
I made my way through many bends and twists using only my night vision. We had electricity, should we ever want it. Roman had rigged it all over Ironwood, but we rarely needed it except for in the section we lived in.
The smell of candied almonds let me know I was almost home. There was a vent near my place to the street above where a food truck would park in the morning and prepare to serve potential customers. I loved the aroma.
My home, if one could call it that, used to be an old post office. Before I had come here, Roman had already begun repairing Ironwood, starting with the post office as it was already in decent shape. The outside of it was painted blue to look like a normal house, which I found comical, but the inside was one giant studio apartment. My bedroom was in the back corner separated only by a wooden partition. The small kitchen next to it had no running water. If I wanted water, I had to walk half a block to a shared bathroom next to an old bistro. That part really sucked.
I walked into my post office home thinking I should probably figure out what I was going to tell Roman, but I couldn't get Emma out of my mind. Somehow I had to figure out how to stop Victor's men from going after her again. A good start would be to uncover what they wanted from Emma's mother, Judge Lamrey.
I pondered my options for some time as I showered and dressed. It was almost sunrise. I wished I could see the light. I glanced over to the wall I thought would be perfect for a window, if this was a real house above ground, but no window would ever go there. Instead, I had hung hundreds of pictures and news articles about my father, the famous Jonas Crow, also known as The Crow. He’d been killed when I was just a baby.
I scanned them again, practically having them memorized. My father had taken out the Moretti's, the biggest crime family the city had ever seen. It had taken a few years, but eventually he had made Coast City great again.
"Aris."
My name echoed throughout the underground chambers. It wasn't a question, just a statement. Roman didn't speak any other way.
I left my home and crossed what used to be a narrow street, but had since been turned into a boardwalk using stained two-by-fours. Roman had made many changes to Ironwood to improve the place. Much of the changes didn't make sense, but it kept Roman busy. He never went above ground anymore since he lost his eyesight entirely several years ago.
I found Roman in the Halo, a wide, open area with circular brick walls that reached the nearly twenty-foot ceiling. Roman said part of it used to be a retaining wall for Ironwood's original state house. Over the years, he had slowly added to the structure until it had made almost a complete circle. This is where Roman trained me most of the time. This is also where he would meditate and listen in on the people of Coast City. With the loss of his eyesight, his hearing became magnified to the point that it often made him ill. That's why he had to spend hours a day in a sensory deprivation tank.
We didn't usually meet here so early, which meant one of two things. Either Roman knew someone had seen my tattoo and was going to enact one of his strange punishments, or he had heard something from above that needed immediate attention. Most of our information about Victor had come from Roman's special hearing.
"Tell me what happened last night." Roman's voice was even, not a hint of emotion to give away his mood. He stood nearly as tall as me with his hands behind his back, muscular chest out. He wore a black gi with black pants instead of his normal white ones. It must be laundry day. His bushy, silver-tinted eyebrows shaded all-white eyes, an image that
would be disturbing to most, but I was used to it. I barely remembered when his eyes used to be blue and normal-looking, but over time they had changed as his blood reacted differently to the V injections than my father's had.
I chose my words carefully. I wasn't sure how much he already knew. "I was bored, so I went up above."
"That was dangerous to do at night."
"For them?"
"For you. You're not ready."
I moaned, tired of this stupid conversation already, but I couldn't tell him that. Respect was the way of the Ames de la Terre. It didn't matter if you disagreed with someone older than you. You had to obey.
Treading carefully, I said, "I don't think there's a person up there who could win a fight against me, and you know it."
"I know no such thing. You have not fought Victor or the people close to him. They have strength you cannot match without fully becoming who you were meant to be."
I turned away from him, trying hard not to get angry, a task that was frequently difficult. He knew what I was capable of. I hated his constant doubt. "I will never choose to become a monster. That's not what this city needs. They need a hero like my—" I swallowed the last word.
"Father?" Roman finished. "Jonas did do many great things for the city."
"Then it's possible."
His empty white eyes seemed to stare right through me. "I fear the only way you will believe I am right is for you to learn for yourself."
"I look forward to proving you wrong."
He hesitated, then said, "You may get that chance sooner than you think."
3
I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I heard chatter this morning beneath Pigtown. You fought two of Victor's men."
"And won," I added.
"Don't be a fool," Roman scolded. "Do you not even wonder how I knew it was you? I've kept you safe your whole life and now everything has changed."
"Good." I was ready for a change. I couldn't stand being down here any longer than I had to. "I'm ready."
"They spoke about a skilled fighter with a crow upon his neck. They say the Crow has returned."
"I was stopping them from attacking a girl. I didn't mean for them to see it. Besides, other people have tattoos of crows. This rumor will die."
He chuckled, somehow finding humor in something I had said. "You called the police. Just like all the other criminals you stopped, correct?"
I was stunned into silence.
"Yes, I know what you've been doing," he added. "You think you're helping, but you're not. Those same criminals you stopped tonight were released from police custody four hours ago. They are already back on the streets."
I ground my jaw together. "But they had guns and hurt a woman."
Surely Emma could ID them, but if they had already been released, how could she? Had all the other people I had arrested been let go, too? I let out a groan, frustrated and angry that all my hard work was for nothing.
"We can't worry about that anymore." He walked toward me. If his eyes weren't all-white, you'd never know he was blind, at least in Ironwood, a place he knew like the back of his hand. "Victor hates even the mention of Crow. If he thinks there's someone in his city pretending to be Crow, he may go to the one remaining person who knows the most about Crow."
My heart dropped into my stomach. "Kristen."
He nodded. "Your aunt was hounded with questions about Crow before. Victor might think she is talking about him again."
My heart skipped a painful beat at the thought of Victor confronting my aunt. "I have to go."
I turned to leave, but Roman grabbed my arm. "Not yet. I need you to recite who you are in case someone asks."
I squared my legs beneath me and lifted my chin, preparing to be questioned.
"What is your name?"
"Adam Smith,” I answered without hesitation. “I moved here a couple of years ago from Rouen, Louisiana."
"What do you do?"
"In addition to working at an auto shop restoring old cars, I'm in my second year at CCU. I want to major in Biology, but I'm not really sure yet. All I know is I want to do something in the medical field, maybe even a sports medicine doc working with a pro football team. That would be really killer, but I don't know if I want to do all those extra years of schooling. My parents back in Rouen want me to come back after I get my bachelor's degree and take over the family business, but I hate furniture so—"
"That's enough," Roman ordered.
"I can keep going. I have my pretend life memorized backwards and forwards. No one will ever know who I am."
He poked me hard near my clavicle at the base of the crow's head. "As long as you keep this covered."
"I will. Can I go?" I was anxious to check on my aunt Kristen. Other than Roman, she was the only one who knew who I was and possibly the only one in the world who loved me. I never could tell how Roman felt about me, despite him being the closest thing I had to a father.
Roman nodded.
I watched him for a moment, feeling strangely sentimental. He had taught me everything I needed to know to restore Coast City back to its formal glory. I opened my mouth to express my gratitude, but before I could, he turned and walked away with not so much as a goodbye.
I almost stopped him to tell him about the strange man outside of Emma's home, but decided against it. It would just make him ask questions as to why I carried the woman home or why I hung around until after the police left. Roman wouldn't like the idea of me possibly getting close to someone. Best I kept my mouth shut.
Clearing my mind, I changed into clothes that would help me blend in instead of wearing a black hoodie and jeans. I needed to look as safe and boring as possible. The brown khaki pants were tight around my waist, and the blue button-down shirt also fit me snuggly, but the collar mostly hid my tattoo. I'd gotten these clothes as a gift from Kristen almost a year ago. It was probably time for more.
In front of a mirror, I applied a heavy cream concealer over the top of my crow's head, the part my shirt collar wouldn't hide. It had been an impulsive move getting this tattoo when I was fourteen, but I had been going through a rebellious streak at the time. Roman didn't like to talk about my father and always stressed the importance of being my own person. In defiance of him, I snuck out that night and got a tattoo just like my father's. I didn't think Roman would notice because at that point he was almost blind, but he did. Saying he was pissed would be an understatement. He badgered me so much I tried to have it removed, but my skin was too tough for the lasers. I'd never admit it to him, but I regretted getting it—the location of it anyway. I'd still have gotten it, but maybe on my back. The tattoo was a daily reminder of the man I want to become. Pride swelled in my chest just thinking about him.
I slipped on my black boots, even if they didn't quite go with the outfit. Each one held a small dagger in a carefully concealed pocket on the inside. They had come in handy on more than one occasion.
Taking several deep breaths to clear my mind, I jogged toward the south exit, the one that would lead me to the busiest part of the city and the closest entrance to my aunt's house. Without her, my childhood would've been a bleak place with just Roman in my life, but Kristen had taught me one could be happy even when life didn't give us exactly what we wanted.
I stopped just beneath the entrance to the city and glanced up the long, metal ladder. I didn't like using this opening, as it was too exposed, but it would save time.
The ladder's rungs were ice cold. I climbed them quickly and slowly lifted the manhole cover to peer out. Warm sunlight bathed my face, making me flinch. Sunlight didn't used to bother me, but ever since I had gone through puberty, it irritated my skin and made me itch obsessively. Roman said it was part of the V proteins in my blood.
After making sure no one was around, I surfaced at the rear of a restaurant next to a large dumpster. Steam puffed out of a long pipe near the restaurant's back door. I darted to the nearest shade to stop the annoying tingling sens
ation breaking out all over my skin.
The sounds of the city were so much more vibrant and loud when they weren't smothered between layers of dirt and concrete. It almost overwhelmed me, and I had to take a minute to readjust my senses, make them less focused—a trick Roman had taught me when I was fourteen and was finally allowed to surface with his permission. He had wanted me to be around more people, saying my social skills needed some major help. Three years of community service for different charities had helped immensely while also giving me a rare glimpse on how much the people in the city were suffering, especially the poor.
"Hey!" a voice called.
I turned around. The back door of the restaurant was open, and a large man wearing a stained, white apron and holding a lit cigarette stood in the doorway.
"What are you doing back here?" he asked.
"I got lost," I said and cleared my throat. Anxiety clenched my stomach, and my chest tightened. It felt strange to talk to someone I wasn't about to fight.
"Sure you did," he snarled. "Get lost."
I obeyed and hurried around the side of the building trying to keep to the shade as much as possible, but as soon as I reached the sidewalk, I almost turned back. There were so many people!
I leaned against the building and drew in a slow, deep breath. I am one of them. My name is Adam Smith. I'm not a freak that lives underground. My pulse slowed. I should've come out more in the day like I used to, but I had grown accustomed to the night. Darkness was the only place where I felt peace. Roman said that was another symptom of living with V blood.
There were too many places I needed to be today to be pausing like this. The first was Kristen's house. After that, I needed to focus on Judge Lamrey and Emma. With those men being released from jail so soon, they could easily attack Emma again.
Inhaling deeply, I dove into the moving centipede of people, becoming a part of the massive insect. I locked eyes with a pretty, dark-haired girl coming toward me. She smiled at me. I averted my gaze, but as she passed I glanced back at her. She was still looking at me, and this time she winked. I knew the effect I had on women. There was something about me that drew them to me—V blood perhaps, although I never dared ask Roman about it. It always made me uncomfortable because I didn't know if it was really me they were interested in or some supernatural pull I couldn't control.