Sleight

by Tom Twitchel

  “Sure,” I said. I knew a dismissal when I heard one, so I got off the couch. Justine looked at me, her expression flat. Turning away she walked out of the library and I hurried to catch up with her.

  “Justine, wait,” I said as we got to the front door.

  Without turning around she just opened the door and headed into the hall. The elevator door was open and she walked in and pushed the ‘down’ button.

  I got in and the rickety old door closed as the elevator started to descend to the shop.

  “Justine, come on. I don’t want you to leave being pissed at me.”

  Zipping up her jacket, still facing the closed door, she raised her chin and looked at me sideways from under long lashes. “Do you know how many boys flirted with me when I went back to school?”

  “Uh, no.” Here we were again, riding the currents in unpredictable territory.

  “Me either, but it was a bunch. Some boys want to get close to me. Then there’s you. If you can’t say it you don’t feel it,” she said.

  “Justine, do you want me to say something just because you want to hear it? Don’t you understand that I’m trying to protect you? And that it’s because of how much you mean to me? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  The door opened and she turned to face me. “Then why is it so hard for you to tell me whether you feel the same way I do?”

  The fact was that when I was with her I was happy, knack-sucking talent aside. But when I was thinking about Maddy my thoughts and feelings were a mess. I’d never told Maddy how I felt about her either. But at least I knew what I wished I had the courage to say to her.

  She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “See? You can’t even answer that.” She got out of the elevator and stalked down the hallway toward the front of the shop.

  “Justine, I’m sorry. Wait,” I said, walking after her.

  Flipping the deadbolt with a loud clack she pushed the door open. Turning toward me as she stood on the threshold. Her eyes were downcast and she didn’t raise them to look at me.

  “Don’t Benny. Kayla was right. I’m an idiot. Tell Constance that I appreciate what she did for me.”

  Stepping out onto the sidewalk letting the door close behind her, she hurried down the street.

  My phone buzzed and I numbly pulled it from my pocket.

  Perfect timing.

  Maddy.

  It was another happy text counting down the hours to her arrival, packed with exclamation marks and emojis; and another hint at some big news. It was just a few days until she and her parents rolled into town. Her uncle Ty had been holding down the fort at their downtown condo until the lease ran out at the end of the summer. I zipped off a quick text. Upbeat but brief. It was all I could muster at the moment being fresh from what I was pretty sure was a final kiss off from Justine.

  Sans kiss.

  Definitely off.

  Not that we were ever on.

  Yeah I definitely had my head on straight.

  I walked outside and headed to my building, planning on grabbing something to eat. Thinking of Maddy and her impending arrival shoved aside thoughts of my argument with Justine. I hadn’t seen her in a month, and the last week she’d been in town we hadn’t been allowed to spend much time together. I’d suffered a couple of setbacks that had made Maddy’s parents less than excited about her spending time with me. To be clear, not just setbacks: one trip to the hospital after being beaten unconscious, getting drugged on a bus and dragged into an alley by Sonja, and almost getting mugged on the way home from a dance. You know, same ole, same ole.

  If you’re looking for a checklist of ways to impress the parents of a girl still in high school, those particular events don’t come highly recommended. Then there was the fact that despite our close friendship Maddy didn’t know how I really felt about her. I’d reasoned that the risk was too steep to take. And then, whether I’d rolled the dice and told her or not, it wouldn’t have changed her parents’ decision to move. I mean seriously, what parent is going to turn down a great job because their daughter tells them that a boy has declared his undying love for her? At the age of sixteen?

  Not likely.

  But now that she lived two states away those reasons for not telling her didn’t seem to matter. Or feel very smart.

  My pocket buzzed and I dug my phone out of my pocket. My message light was on. I scrolled to new messages. There was a video file parked at the top of the queue.

  Curious, I clicked it to run.

  What opened was the last thing I expected to see.

  FIFTY-TWO: ANONYMOUS PASSENGER

  BY THE TIME I got back up to Mr. Goodturn’s apartment Brock was in the library with Kenwoode and Mr. Goodturn. They were all standing in front of the huge leather topped desk near the windows. A detailed map of downtown Seattle had been spread out with Sawyer’s map next to it.

  When I ran in they all looked up. I breathlessly showed all three of them what had been sent to my phone. Brock was underwhelmed, I couldn’t read Kenwoode’s expression, but Mr. G seemed to share my concern.

  “It doesn’t change anything Harald,” said Kenwoode.

  “I say we leave the kid here and do this ourselves Preston. The map was meant for you. The boy was just a conduit,” said Brock, who apparently wasn’t worried about improving our relationship.

  “Maybe we should leave you here,” I said. “You can’t seem to stay on your feet when there are Shades around,” I said. Not nice I know, but his act had worn thin and I was done being discounted because I wasn’t over twenty one.

  “Ah, I think Preston and I are capable of determining the appropriate makeup for our little expedition. Thank you both,” said Mr. Goodturn.

  The tension of our disagreement from the day before still hung in the air, and I took his finessing my beef with Brock as another olive branch. I did my best to swallow my my pride. For his part Brock shot me a glare and then took a seat in a nearby chair, hanging a leg over the arm.

  “Now, Benjamin we think your abilities make you the best choice for reconnaissance. You should take a bus, your usual mode of transportation, so as not to raise any suspicion that you are being followed. This will allow Preston and Brock to set up near this building,” he pointed at a spot on the map near Pioneer Square, “which will allow them to reconnoiter the immediate vicinity. They’ll choose a spot along this track that will afford them the best view available. You will enter this building,” another tap of his finger, “where apparently a tunnel will give you access to the alleyway below ground. Then it is a matter of a several hundred yards to the meeting spot designated by Sawyer’s markings. You’ll need to be careful since the entire area is a part of underground Seattle that hasn’t been reclaimed.”

  In 1889 a fire had burned most of the wooden buildings in the city and destroyed what was now known as Pioneer Square. The city fathers had made the decision to rebuild fifteen to twenty feet higher to improve drainage on the city’s streets during the rainy season, which was pretty much all the time. The result was a submerged lower level of streets, alleys and store fronts that had been abandoned.

  The buildings surrounding the spot on the map that Sawyer had marked were far from the tourist routes. Warehouses and some dilapidated storefronts dominated street level buildings. Going underground in places where there hadn’t been any construction cleanup was risky for a number of reasons. First, the buildings and alleys below were often unstable and unsafe. Second, the homeless, drug traffic and gang activity made visiting them inadvisable even in the middle of the day. The Shades’ presence made it even more dangerous. Once I was underground it wouldn’t be easy for the others to keep me in sight without being seen.

  I was nervous, but what I’d seen on my phone made it impossible for me to consider not going.

  “I get it,” I said. “When do you think I should take off?”

  “An hour before. Eleven o’clock. There’s no sense in cutting this too close. That gives us plenty of time to
get in position,” said Kenwoode.

  Mr. Goodturn nodded.

  “I’m gonna be strapped,” said Brock. “But we might want to consider packing counter measures in the event that we need a distraction.”

  “Yes, I agree,” said Kenwoode.

  “Well, then let’s discuss the timetable in detail and itemize what each of you will need to take with you,” said Mr. Goodturn.

  ***********************************

  Waiting for the bus and freezing despite the three layers I was wearing, I promised myself that I’d get my license soon and scrape together enough money to buy a beater. I’d made this promise before. The academic part wasn’t an issue. It was the car and the money to buy one.

  A strong gust of wind rocked me and I could feel the tip of my nose getting ice cold. The air was so cold that it almost hurt to take in a breath. The metal light posts and the frame of the bus stop shelter sparkled with a layer of frost.

  The sun had set hours ago. Scanning ahead and behind I didn’t see anyone lurking in a doorway or slouched against a building but I was still nervous.

  I’d looked for Justine’s Prius and been relieved that I hadn’t seen it. Having located my stun gun on the roof I reached under my jacket and touched it for reassurance. Security blanket I know, but it was better than nothing; or as momma would have said: ‘better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick’. Some of her folksy wisdom left me wondering about exactly what had gone on in her country upbringing.

  When one of the combo diesel electric buses pulled up my face was getting numb. I climbed aboard and tried to push distracting thoughts out of my head. Grabbing a seat near the rear doors I had a good view of both entrances onto the bus and most of the seats. There were only two people behind me. One was a skinny dude wearing a puffy down jacket, who was swaying in rhythm to whatever he had pumping through his head phones. His eyes were closed and he hadn’t looked up when I sat down. The other person was a young woman who was wearing semi-professional clothing and looked wary. She’d made brief eye contact with me and then glanced out the window, apparently deciding I was beneath her concern. All good.

  At the first stop we pulled in to a street that was lined with high end shopping and brightly lit trees. A crush of Christmas shoppers crammed onto the bus. Big shopping bags, laughter and lively conversation filled the enclosed space. Up ahead I could hear a couple of people happily singing a Christmas carole. People standing around me had smiles on their faces. It had been hard to get a look at everyone who had gotten on. I pulled my stun gun out of its holster and put it in my coat pocket. It made me feel safer but my nerves wouldn’t settle down.

  When we pulled up to the next stop there was an organized scramble of people getting off and more getting on. Three women with armloads of boxes and bags got on, blocking my view. The doors closed and the bus lurched forward. The ladies with the mountain of packages shifted out of the way and a person wearing a felt bucket hat and a scarf that covered the face dropped into the aisle seat beside me. My finger slipped into the trigger guard of my stun gun.

  Without turning to look at me the person said, “You got that shocker in your pocket?”

  The hair on my scalp did an involuntary dance.

  “Sawyer?” I asked.

  He didn’t remove the concealing scarf but he nodded his head. “Yeah. Relax on the electric sparker. You know that doesn’t work on me.”

  Easing my finger off the trigger I used my knack to press him firmly into his seat, holding his arms down.

  “Really? You’re that mad?” he said.

  “I’m just not that stupid,” I said. “I saw what you did to Danton. And you gave me a jolt too.”

  “Come on Benny. I came to ask for hel—”

  I increased the pressure, not enough to hurt him, but enough to make him uncomfortable.

  “What do you want?” I whispered.

  He grunted from the pressure. “Just giving you a heads up. Be careful.”

  “We already know that. Why did you send the map to us?”

  He squirmed under my knack influenced grip. “Look Benny, I didn’t want to do any of that the other night. I had to. I need your help.”

  “We all have choices,” I muttered.

  “I didn’t. They’ve got my sister.”

  “What?”

  “My sister was recruited by the Shades. She’s brainwashed, cult crap. I was going to come clean with you when we were at that restaurant, but then I saw Justine and Silver and you went all White Knight.”

  I remembered him starting to say something and then changing his mind. “We were down there to spy on Sonja. You said Silver was working for her. That was all a lie?”

  Squirming under my influence he nodded. “Yeah. I knew it was Weller, the redhead, who was in the condo building. I couldn’t find the rogue. They’ve been looking for her too.”

  “Why drag me down there with you?”

  “It was a test. They know that there’s a young Natural with serious skills in Seattle. You, but they don’t know your name. There’s a reward for finding you and getting you to join up. I figured if I could introduce you to them, they might cut my sister loose. But I didn’t. I know the thing on the roof was bad, but I want to make it right. Weller got a really good look at you. It’s not a good idea for you to be the one that goes to the meeting.”

  “You were going to hand me over to them?” I hissed.

  “I didn’t know you, Benny. Then I did. I couldn’t go through with it. Then Silver showed up, I accidentally scorched his eye trying to save you, then you brought the cop to Goodturn’s...” he paused. “It all went to hell. Then I had this dumb idea that Goodturn could work some mojo on Weller and my sister, but the cop and Kenwoode going off blew that.”

  “The fliers, who were they?”

  “Those are my foster sisters. Talia and Brin. You’ve already met Talia.”

  “The blond?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” He grunted, trying to get loose.

  “How did they just happen to show up to save your ass?”

  “I texted Talia when Kenwoode and Brock showed up with Weller. I knew they had the wrong person, and that Brin would be willing to come if it meant saving a Shade leader. Brin’s the one that’s brainwashed. It was a way to get her to come and maybe get her worked on by Goodturn. Then it turned out to be the escape plan.”

  It sounded plausible, but his deception, and my naiveté in trusting him rankled me.

  The bus’s brakes squealed as we came to a stop. “What is this thing tonight?”

  “It’s another filtering meeting. Naturals who are in the process of joining are being put through another test before Weller will approve them.”

  “Do you know what the test is?” I asked.

  “No.” he said. “Look, I need to get off before we get to the Pioneer Square stop. If someone’s watching and they see me it might screw both if us. If they think I’m not a legit recruit they might hurt Brin.”

  I was reluctant to let him go. I wanted to hand him over to Kenwoode. People were getting off and others were beginning to get on.

  “I’m letting you go because I really don’t have a choice,” I said, releasing him.

  He got up and looked down at me, only his eyes visible over the scarf. “All I can say is I’m sorry. But there’s one more thing.”

  “I’ll bet,” I growled.

  “There’s someone else coming to this thing tonight that I think knows who you are. If you let him see you he’ll ID you.”

  “Well, thanks for that.”

  He shrugged and was quickly swallowed up by the crowd as he got off. As the bus pulled away I saw him briefly as he headed for a corner and then he was gone.

  Nothing he’d told me changed our plans. All it did was confuse me and make me more uptight. White lights strung in trees glittered through the windows of the bus as it trundled deeper into downtown. Looking out the rear window I saw a couple of tiny snowflakes swirl in the eddy of the bus’
s wake and other passengers excitedly pointed at them. Up in the front of the bus the spontaneous carolers started singing ‘It’s Starting To Look A Lot Like Christmas’.

  Maybe. But it didn’t feel that way at the moment.

  Halloween seemed more like it.

  FIFTY-THREE: UNDERGROUND

  THE BUS SHUDDERED to a stop across the street from the Pioneer Square station as more snow began to fall and I stood up immediately, itching to get off. It wasn’t sticking yet but it left a light dusting that looked magical. Sort of contrasted with my reason for being there which was less than magical.

  Timing my exit from the bus so that I mixed in with other passengers I cut through City Hall Park and under the light rail overpass. The heavy smell of car exhaust and diesel fumes from busses hung in the air, clouds of vapor floating behind them in the chilly evening.

  Walking two blocks further west I cruised past the tourist entrance to underground Seattle and then headed south. Underneath an iron arbor, thick with dormant vines, was the entrance to an old brick building that had been circled on Sawyer’s map. There was a staircase to the left of the entrance that led below street level to a narrow alley. As I walked under the arbor I invoked my camouflage and carefully descended the stairs. The smell of dirt and damp got strong as I went down.

  The area had just enough holiday lighting that I could see where I was going without too much trouble. When the alley jogged right, leading to the back of the building it cut off most of the light from the street. The alley dead-ended about a hundred feet later. In the murky light I could make out a bootleggers hole. Downtown historic buildings were riddled with them and they typically had been filled with brick or cement, leaving only the crude entry’s stone outline. This one gaped like an open mouth leading to God knew where. I stuck my hand into my pocket and reassured myself that my stun gun was still there. I let my camo drop and put my hands on opposite sides of the entrance.

  Climbing in the hole headfirst was, I’m not going to lie, pretty creepy. There was barely enough room to hunch down and lower myself into the darkness. When my feet touched solid ground I looked up and behind. The entry way was a slightly less dark spot in the gloom. The dampness in the air had faded, but an unpleasant mustiness had taken its place.