Sleight

by Tom Twitchel

  Turning on my phone’s flashlight app I shielded the beam with my hand so that its range was reduced. I could see a few feet in front of me. The passage was tall enough so that I didn’t have to bend over and I was able to walk reasonably fast. I knew that the location I was headed to was several blocks west and north. As I moved forward the tunnel began to drop steeply, forcing me to slow my pace. I traveled another five minutes and then saw a yellow glow ahead of me. Turning off the flash app and sticking the phone in my pocket, I manifested my camo and slowed down. I placed my feet carefully, trying to be quiet.

  When I was within about twenty feet of the light I could see that it was coming from a large open area. Old wooden store fronts leaned in from both sides of the underground street ahead. The light’s source was a lantern hanging from a post in front of an abandoned store. The pathway was littered with ruined timbers and trash. I could see more lights ahead. As I passed the rotting buildings my mind played games with my senses. I thought I could see shadows moving in the dark spaces beyond broken windows and open doors.

  I’d passed two or three ancient shops when I heard footsteps behind me. Looking for a place to hide I chose a cramped boardwalk between two buildings. I took a few long slow breaths and waited to see who was following me.

  A blue light bobbed in the distance and I retreated further into the shadows. Arguing voices came closer, echoing strangely off of the rotting buildings.

  “I’m telling you I saw a light,” said a familiar feminine voice.

  A muffled voice replied, “It was the street lanterns. You’re just jumpy. Knock it off.”

  “Would you please take that off? You look like an old lady.”

  Chuckling. “Rat droppings, ancient bubonic plague germs in the air, I think I’ll wear it all night.”

  The blue light went out and I could make out two figures slowly taking shape as they approached. Both recognizable: Sawyer and the blond that had delivered the map. He was still wearing the scarf he’d had on when I’d seen him earlier.

  “I mean it Sawyer! Take it off. It’s weirding me out,” she said.

  The silver tattoos on her neck and arms reflected the amber light from the lantern. She was wearing her dark green form fitting outfit from the other night, but had the sleeves pushed up and the front unzipped. Her long blond hair was braided and pinned up. A long bulky backpack nestled between her shoulder blades.

  “Fine. Whatever.” He unwound the scarf and draped it around his neck and over his shoulders. “There. Happy?”

  They were almost abreast of my hiding place and I parted my lips, breathing shallowly.

  “What’s going to make me happy is you keeping your end of the deal. This whole nut job manifesto is stupid. I want her back home. We should have just grabbed her when we were rescuing that bitch.”

  Sawyer shook his head and looked at the ground in front of them as they passed me. “Really? And how would we have done that? She took off with Weller. It made her a hero with them. It makes the whole thing that much harder. At least she doesn’t suspect that we’re trying to get her away from them. We need to get close to her and wait for another chance. She...”

  They continued walking down the ruined street. Waiting until I could barely hear their voices I stepped back onto the street, and followed as quickly as I could without tripping over junk strewn in the street. I had missed part of their conversation.

  “...you know how she is. Have you thought about how we’re going to do it?”

  Sawyer shrugged. “We either talk her out of it or we’ll have to just take her.”

  Talia stopped and grabbed his arm. “How’re we gonna manage that? Are you kidding me right now? She’s not gonna come without a fight.”

  Sawyer looked down at her hand on his sleeve, and she let it slide off. “Exactly. I tried to make nice with Benny, prepping him to possibly help us but he’s pretty pissed. Guess I can’t blame him. We’ll have to do this on our own.”

  Talia started walking again, her back stiff, clearly angry. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

  Shaking his head Sawyer followed her. “And you think I do? Besides, we mess this up and we’re gonna be the ones who get hurt.”

  Now there was a cheerful thought.

  FIFTY-FOUR: LOW PLACES & STRANGE FACES

  FOLLOWING ALONG BEHIND them I was careful to manage my distance. They continued bickering. It was obvious that they didn’t get along. Siblings.

  Then they stopped. Talia seemed to orient herself and they walked up to a building with a collapsed wooden awning. Picking their way up the sagging steps they crossed a wooden porch and entered through a door that was hanging off one hinge.

  Keeping my camo in place I waited several moments and then followed them. I’d waited too long because the room was empty. The floor was dusty but dozens of footprints had cleared a path that led to the other end of the room ending in front of a small door.

  That would be the only one way to go, but the door was closed. I walked slowly up to it and put my ear flush to its surface. Nothing. If they were waiting on the other side I was going to walk right into their arms. I drew my influence around me right hand, and opened the door with my left.

  It opened on a long narrow hall. At the other end a diffused glow washed out on the floor from under another door. As I approached it I could hear voices on the other side. I couldn’t open the door without announcing myself. I considered backtracking and attempting to look for another entrance when my decision was made for me.

  The door behind me opened and a short slender figure entered the hall. So much for my skills as a super-sleuth. Once the shape moved closer I could see it was a guy in his early twenties and maybe a hundred pounds dripping wet. What he was wearing made it hard to make out details because it was all dark and loose, hanging on him like towels on a rack. Head covered by a dark colored beanie, stringy goatee and a glint of an earring was all I could make out in the dark hall. Plastering myself against a wall I tried to make myself as flat as possible. He slouched past me.

  And part of his sleeve brushed my jacket.

  He stopped and jumped back looking right at me. I held perfectly still, holding my breath. It felt like he stood there for a full minute when it was probably only a second or two, but it was enough to make me curse myself for wearing such bulky clothing. I thought for sure he could see me. Then his shoulders relaxed and he shook his head and turned away. He knocked on the door and it opened, light flooding into the hallway.

  “What’s taking ya so long out here? Saw ya come in the street entrance,” said the burly figure standing in the open doorway. Now I knew why there had been lights in the street. Easier to spot uninvited guests. The stocky man stood there, waiting for an answer. He was wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, heavy jacket and work boots. His head was shaved and in the dim light of the hall it made him look sinister.

  “I thought someone was in here with me. Something brushed by me,” said Goatee.

  Baldy snorted. “Spiders. Underground’s full of ‘em. What’s yer name?”

  He said, “Ethan?”

  “Well is it or not?”

  “Ethan,” he said more assertively, a little irritation creeping into his voice.

  A bob of the head and then a casual nod toward the entrance. “Well get in there. We’re gonna start soon,” said Baldy as he swung the door wide and stepped back.

  Seeing my opportunity I followed as closely behind Ethan as I thought safe. Apparently feeling me behind him, he whirled around and I had to sidestep quickly to avoid being smacked in the face.

  “What the hell you doin’?” barked Baldy, who held his arms out, fists clenched.

  Making another frantic spin, Ethan waved his arms in the air. “I felt it again. Is someone in here messing with me?”

  “I’m gonna mess with you if you don’t calm down. Sit yer ass down!” snarled Baldy as he stalked to the center of the long low-ceilinged room. Under his breath, but loud enough to hear he made a comment about lose
rs and idiots. Ethan glowered at his retreating back and shuffled over to take a seat on a wooden barrel.

  There was no time to pat myself on the back for getting in without being noticed. I looked around and took in the details quickly as I tiptoed to an empty corner. The space had been a store room, probably for illegal liquor based on the many broken barrels, dusty bottles and the long shelves that lined the walls. Longer than it was wide it ran a good distance to the poorly lit far end. I could barely make out the outline of a door that probably led to a back alley.

  A large space had been cleared in the center of the room. There were several barrels and a few rickety chairs facing a makeshift podium constructed of old wooden crates stacked one upon the other.

  Seated in front of the podium were several other people. Sawyer and Talia sat together as far from the podium as possible. Ethan seated himself close to the entry door. Dwarfing a small stool was a huge man with shoulder length shaggy hair and a wiry beard that fell to his chest. He was wearing a filthy jacket..

  At the front, parked on a half barrel right in front of Baldy’s shaky lectern was a girl, with her back to me. The blue coat and the bright wisps of platinum hair that peeked out from under the hood were all too familiar.

  FIFTY-FIVE: A PLACE IN THE SHADE

  ANGER, FEAR AND frustration wrestled inside me. Her reckless insistence on participating was dangerous for everybody. I wondered to myself what she thought she was accomplishing by being present.

  While I tried to reconcile how I felt about Justine being there I got another surprise: sitting next to her was someone else I knew. The video that had ended up on my phone had given me a heads up that I might see him, but it was still a shock. It had been a GIF that had shown Weller walking in front of the camera, and when she walked out of the frame Oso could be seen in the background.

  His large muscular frame was resting on an overturned barrel, a petite young woman sitting next to him, her hand on his broad back. She wore a backpack that was identical to Talia’s. And while she didn’t look much like Talia I guessed that this was the wayward twin sister. Instead of long blond hair she wore her light brown hair in dreads. Talia and Sawyer were pointedly not looking at her but I sensed a high level of tension between the three.

  Oso had saved my life twice. Probably more, and there was at least one occasion where he’d created enough of a distraction that I’d been able to save my own skin. That one had cost him his life.

  Or so I’d thought.

  His membership in one of Seattle’s most notorious gangs was proclaimed by the gang’s numerical symbol on his neck. The 13’s. He’d felt conflicted about belonging to the gang but had believed that he was destined to remain in their fold because of his roots, lack of education and in my opinion, misguided loyalty. The loyalty part had been a one way street. He believed that if they had ever discovered that he had knacks they would have killed him or tried to use him.

  Sensing my abilities while he and his girlfriend had watched me at one of my performances in a park, he had hit on the idea that we were brothers, connected by our mutual knack-ness. He’d shadowed me for months without my knowledge, and shown up several times, casting himself in the role of guardian angel.

  His skin looked bronze in the light. The dark close cropped hair on his head had been razor cut in clean tight lines. Tattooed tears leaked out of his left eye. Three stylized letters spelling out his nickname were inked on his neck opposite the ‘13’ tatt. His choice of clothing had been upgraded since the last time I’d seen him. Black jeans, expensive looking black boots, a thick black shirt, and a heavy black leather coat added to his intimidating physique.

  I’d expected to see him at some point but I was curious as to how the video of him had popped up on my phone.

  And then there was Justine and her stubborn determination to put herself in the middle of everything. She had either bluffed her way past Baldy or she’d been invited. And if she’d been invited what exactly had she been hiding from me? It might have been my imagination but it seemed as though she glanced at Oso and Talia’s twin, Brin, with a hint of recognition.

  Sharp knocking came from the direction of the door Ethan and I had entered through. Baldy walked over and opened it. There was a hushed conversation and then he stepped back to allow another person to enter the room.

  When she entered it was...well...something. Everyone in the room stared. Full figured, long jet black hair, high cheekbones, full lips, and a thin upturned nose. By some standards beautiful.

  But also absolutely ridiculous.

  She looked like she had just come from a costume party. From a different time of year. She was wearing skin tight clothing that could have easily doubled as a bikini. Made of black vinyl. In the middle of December. A long red ankle-length cape looked a little the worse for the tunnel trek she'd been through. Thigh-high black vinyl boots with six inch heels made her look much taller than she actually was. Her arms were sheathed in black vinyl gloves that ran to her biceps. The extra-stupid on the silly scale was the chalk-white skin, the protruding fangs and glossy red lips, topped off by yellow contact lenses and painted arched eyebrows.

  Several pairs of eyes followed her slow exaggerated walk to a chair near my hiding spot. Yeah, I looked too, but more out of car-crash fascination than anything hormonal. Her whole ensemble looked like a cheap clearance item from a Halloween store. Brushing back the cape so it fell over the back of the chair she took a seat and crossed her legs. I checked off on the others' reactions and would have laughed if it wouldn't have given me away. Talia rolled her eyes and lifted her lip in a silent snarl. Sawyer stared, but the shake of his head spoke volumes. Ethan, he of the scraggly goatee and the now easy to see serious acne problem, practically had his tongue hanging out. The dirty giant watched with a sleepy detached interest. Oso had noted her entrance and turned away. Brin had sneered and then curled her arm possessively around Oso’s waist. And Justine had turned her head too, a look of disdain wrinkling her nose.

  I heard a loud noise by the door and saw Baldy waving his hands at a long heavy looking piece of wood that was floating through the air into two iron hooks set into the wall on either side of the door. Yeah, that definitely locked that up, and there was another telekinetic player in the room. Unless Kenwoode and Dylan were capable of walking through walls their only means of entrance now was the alley door.

  “Awright, we’ll get started,” said our gatekeeper. He moved back to his podium. “Call me Griff. First, turn off yer cell phones and put ‘em in this.” He passed a plastic bag to Isaac. “Ya’ll get ‘em back later. Two, don’t speak unless I ask ya a direct question. Three, answer all my questions or yer out. Four, don’t give me attitude or yer out.”

  Only Ethan and the vampire girl seemed nervous. Everyone else seemed unsurprised.

  Justine raised her hand.

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  Griff frowned. “What?”

  “Why do we have to hand over our cell phones?”

  “On account of we don’t want nobody recording anything or making calls.”

  Swallowing, she said, “I don’t feel okay with that.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Griff folded his thick arms over his chest. “Too bad. Ya can leave if ya want. Right now would be a good time.”

  “No, I’m fine,” she said, her lips pressed tight.

  Griff grunted and rubbed a hand over his bald head. “Most of ya know each other, but we’re gonna do a little roll call anyway.” I glanced around the room and wondered how it was that people that were present knew each other.

  Smiling grimly, Griff walked back to his podium. He looked at vampire girl, and shook his head.

  "Name and gift?” he asked with skepticism practically written in the air above his head.

  The girl uncrossed and re-crossed her legs again, taking her time doing it. Her whole vibe seemed like an act. Tilting her chin up, she said, “Elvonira. I'm a vampire.”

  No kidding.

  Unimpr
essed and not satisfied, Griff asked, “No. What's yer gift.”

  The first sign of uncertainty crossed her face. Her chin lifted a little higher. “I'm a member of the undead.”

  “Uh huh. Ya suck blood from people?”

  The costumed girl’s eyes widened, white visible around the edges of her yellow contact lenses. Her mouth, pouty up till now, was open and her plastic fangs comically bracketed her tongue. She looked scared.

  “Yes. What are you expecting?” she said in a whispery voice.

  Griff frowned. “Look, I seen a lot, but I never seen a real vampire. Not like yer made up anyway. Yer sponsor misled ya. Everyone else in this room has one thing in common. ‘Cept you. This isn't some club. So if yer for real yer gonna need to show me.”

  Elvonira closed her mouth and glanced nervously around the room. “How am I supposed to do that? You want to see me suck someone's blood?” Her chest was heaving and I could see little beads of sweat on her heavily made up brow.

  Sighing Griff shook his head. “That's what I thought.”

  Waving his hand at the shadowy door to the alley, it banged open. I made a mental note. He glared at her. “Ya got exactly three seconds to get up and get out.”

  She looked around the room, searching for support. Everyone else either looked away or stared at her with contempt. Getting shakily to her feet she tried to pull herself together and present an appearance of confidence. It didn’t work. She looked shaken.

  “Now!” barked Griff.

  Quick-stepping on her incredibly high heels, she walked shakily to the alley door, stepped into the blackness of the alley and the door slammed shut behind her.

  Griff glared at the closed door for a second and then shook himself. Frowning, he looked at the giant. “State yer name and yer gift.”