The Lostkind

by Matt Stephens

  "Never?" That surprised him. "If you don't mind my saying, you seem to have a deep spiritual connection to camping in a place you've never been to."

  Connie pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "I like the idea of travel more than actually doing it… I like coffee. I like hot showers. I like soft pillows, and a comfy couch. So… Camping is something I like to tell stories about…"

  "Without the hassle of actually going camping." Vincent finished for her, struggling to keep a lid on his smile.

  Connie smiled impishly. "Best way to do it."

  ~oo00oo~

  Wotcha had moved quickly, gathering her friends together. A few were Lostkind, most were just observant people she had met. They didn't know where she came from, and they didn't much care. She paid them either with cash or collateral, and she was good to them. It wasn't the first time she had asked them to find somebody, and it wasn't the first time they did so without knowing why.

  Tecca returned to the Underground with a note, and for the second time in as many days, Yasi came up to the surface after dark.

  Across the city the question was asked, and the description circulated. Monroe didn't know it, but all the hiding places were closed to him now. Every dark corner, every ‘no-tell-Motel' every bridge that could provide shelter, every train station with damaged security cameras, every hostel that accepted cash. They were all being watched by eyes that had nowhere else to be, and nothing else to do.

  ~oo00oo~

  Yasi perched on the corner of the rooftop, looking at Vincent's apartment window. After a few moments of watching, the curtains were opened, and from the dark window, the lantern she'd left him started glowing on the inside windowsill.

  Smiling a little, Yasi leaped out into the cooling air, landing neatly on top of a streetlight, landing on the narrow point and sliding down it like a fireman's pole, without wasting a single motion. Even at sunset; there was nobody looking her way. Her quicksilver catwalk took her across the street, toward Vincent's building before anyone noticed her.

  ~oo00oo~

  "You decided to use the door this time?"

  "Well, I figured since you went to the trouble of putting a light on in the window for me." She teased back, but she wasn't smiling.

  "Are you mad?"

  "Mad? No. Just wondering who else you drafted. If you're going to take on the Lostkind as a secret army of crime fighters, you'll need a uniform, a secret identity, a lair of some kind…"

  "You are mad." Vincent bit his lip. "Can I bribe you with something? Chocolates? Flowers? I don't know, what works on women from the Underside?"

  "Vincent, I'm glad to help, and I don't need a bribe." Yasi said. "You think I like people getting wiped out by Loan Sharks and con men? Of course not. I'll help however I can. But… if you do this, there's going to be a reckoning. What you're trying right now? It doesn't happen. There will be a price to pay, and I don't know what it'll be. Back out now, I go tell Keeper that you misunderstood what was allowed, I tell her I set you straight, and everything stays as it is. You keep going; it's up to her." She sat back, brought her knees up to perch on the chair. "So you tell me: You willing to see where this goes?"

  Vincent bit his lip and thought about it for a long time. Yasi didn't run the world below, and he knew that. If his friendship with her and Wotcha was going to cause trouble, it would fall on them both to clean it up. Eventually he spoke. "I spent my whole life walking around with blinders on to people around me. I did it again with my best friend. If there's anything I can do to… make up for that; then I'll do it."

  Yasi rose. "Then I'll get into it first thing tomorrow." She returned to the window. "Double-tall Mocha-swirl, with caramel shots and whipped cream."

  "I'm sorry?"

  "Flowers don't work, because it's not like we have sunny windowsills. Chocolates don't help because we sort of have to slip through cracks for a living. You want to grovel; you owe me a decadent beverage of some kind."

  Vincent grinned. "I'll be right back."

  "No you won't." Yasi said. "I'm coming with you."

  ~oo00oo~

  One thing New York had no shortage of was coffee shops; and Vincent paid for them both.

  "Let's go to the Bridge." Yasi said as they sipped their coffee.

  "The Brooklyn Bridge?" Vincent repeated. "Why there?"

  "You'll see."

  Vincent shrugged; more pleased than he would admit to. "Well, I know a great place near there."

  ~oo00oo~

  Their coffees were finished; and the sky was a brilliant orange by the time they reached the East River. Not wanting the moment to end, Vincent immediately bought them refills and pastries from a closer coffee chop, and they wandered to a park bench near the Brooklyn Bridge.

  New York was lit up brilliantly before them. The skyline was one of the most famous in the world, and at that time of night, they had an unobstructed view, and privacy to enjoy it. The towers of the world's first mega-city were lit up with a million points of light, bathing them in a soft glow. The skyline in front of them; the orange sky slowly darkening in contrast.

  "When I first moved to New York, I came here every day." Vincent said. "I was trying to get my head around the notion that I lived here now. I was a New Yorker… Well, Brooklyn. Until 9/11, it was my favorite place. After that, it just… I kept staring at the spot where they used to be."

  "But you came back." She observed.

  "I did." Vincent confirmed. "It's still my favorite place. I still see the whole city from here. I won't… I can't let one thing that upset me destroy the way I care about things that still remain."

  "Amen to that."

  For a long time, they sat silently. Vincent glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She wanted to say something, but she hesitated, unwilling to share it. He waited, letting her get used to the idea of opening up to him.

  "We were scared that day too." Yasi said quietly at last. "Nobody spoke about it, but we all knew. I think, in a way, 9/11 was actually scarier for us than it was for you up above."

  "How so?"

  "Because you guys all knew that the way to get through it was to band together and support each other. The whole city united. We couldn't even risk coming up to help. We're always working to be invisible. Suddenly every corner was being watched."

  Vincent nodded. "I did a little research after I met you. I spoke to some Urban Explorers, people who do stuff like climbing through forgotten tunnels and perching on rooftops all the time for fun? They've pulled back what they do. Someone calls in a trespasser to the police before 9/11, it wasn't a big deal; just kids having fun. After that day… a lot of folks would have been willing to shoot on sight; to say nothing of distracting police."

  "World got woken up. When you live in the shadows; there's nothing worse than having all the lights on." Yasi said quietly. "Eventually, the panic faded, and we all went back to our lives. But for the first few months, our people were sitting down there wondering: is this the day they find us? Is this the day we get noticed?"

  Vincent bit his lip and pushed the bag of Danish toward her. "Yasi… I wondered for a while… if that would be such a bad thing."

  She looked at him sharply, coughing on a mouthful of pastry. "What?"

  "When you wanted me to cover for you all… I wondered if it would be so bad, the world noticing you."

  Yasi sipped her coffee, not taking her eyes off his. "We've created something… unique. Something that's never happened before. Our culture has grown, right under your noses. It gets dragged into the spotlight, and more than the people losing their homes, the place itself will become a sideshow. You drag us out of our element, and what will be left… it won't be us."

  "I agree." Vincent nodded. "Which was why I let it alone."

  Yasi's face softened. "I never said thank you for that."

  "You didn't have to." He assured her. A moment later he was suddenly aware of how close they were, sitting on the bench, close enough to brush against each other innoc
ently. Yasi's expression was relaxed and open for the first time since they had met. With her face lit by the soft glow of the distant city, Vincent was suddenly aware of how beautiful she could be.

  She turned her head to face him, their gaze bringing them closer. "Thank you Vincent. Thank you for keeping the secret, and protecting my home." She said; soft as a psalm.

  There was a loose strand of hair falling across her forehead. He reached out and tucked it behind her ear without thinking. She didn't stop him.

  After a heated glance, Yasi leaned in and kissed him gently. Vincent returned it. It was hesitant, uncertain. After a few moments, Vincent pulled back.

  They sat like that for a long moment, their foreheads touching gently.

  "We can't." Yasi said finally, ignoring the fact that she'd started it.

  "More than that, we shouldn't." Vincent agreed. "I mean… Yasi, you're here because I got your Watchers to hunt down a man without your permission."

  Yasi pulled away, sliding back on the bench, giving them some distance from each other. Two feet was all they needed. "When this is done, I'm going home, and we most likely won't see each other again."

  Vincent scrubbed his face with one hand. "Plus, we're only having this conversation because my best friend is lying in a hospital bed. This is most definitely not right."

  "Agreed." Yasi stood up, and so did Vincent. The intensity of the moment faded, but not awkwardly. They were still smiling at each other, Yasi tucked her hair back herself, and Vincent collected her empty coffee cup, finding a bin to drop their garbage in.

  "Why here?" Vincent asked finally. "I know why I like the Bridge; why do you?"

  Yasi grinned at him, her teeth flashing brilliantly again. She drew a fob watch out of her pocket and flipped it open. Vincent glanced at it casually and noticed it had four hands instead of two. Yasi flipped it closed again and took his hand. "Come with me."

  She led him to the base of the Brooklyn Bridge support struts. Vincent followed her to the foundation. Yasi drew a small metallic handle out of her leathers, and fit it against the brick surface of the wall...

  There was a clicking sound, and suddenly a hidden door opened, revealing a space behind it, narrower than a coffin. Vincent could hear wind whistling and peeked inside. The narrow space was completely hollow. There was a rope hanging a down from above in the hiding place, with a loop at the end.

  Vincent divined its purpose immediately. "Oh lord. Really?"

  "Afraid so." Yasi nodded. She gave him that look again, daring him to chicken out.

  Forcing himself to squeeze into the stone hollow, Vincent fit his foot through the loop, and held onto the rope tightly, like a childhood rope swing. His weight tugged the rope down slightly, and Vincent heard something click...

  And suddenly he was rising. Extremely quickly.

  There were only a few inches of clearance on either side, and Vincent pressed his face against the rope awkwardly. If he hunched his shoulders, or ducked his head, his profile would change and he would be scraped along the walls like roadkill...

  Quite suddenly it was over. A shock of cold air hit him, and he inched one eye open. At the top of the shaft, a grate over his head. The drop beneath him was far enough he couldn't see the ground any more, and he quickly pushed the grate up, climbing above. The rope pulley unspooled the second he took his weight off it, and he clambered up out of the way.

  He was suddenly up above it all, at the top of the Brooklyn Bridge tower. Above the gantries, above the walkway, above the safety rail. He was literally on top of everything he could see.

  There was a whirring sound as Yasi appeared next to him; and she set the grate back into place. "Have fun?" She teased brightly.

  "More or less. Why are we here?"

  "We're meeting someone."

  Vincent looked around the twelve square feet of bare rooftop. Nobody here but them and a few pigeons. "Who, in the name of whatever, could we be meeting? And will they get here before the cold makes my legs go numb and I fall over the side to my horrible, horrible death?"

  Yasi grinned. "They're already here." With that she went over to the pigeons.

  "Carrier pigeons?"

  "Yup. Pigeons are like Lostkind. They're everywhere and nobody even looks at them. You train one or two to fly between specific places, and nobody notices them among the thousand odd sky-rats that just happen to be there."

  The Warrior Woman picked up the one pigeon that hadn't flown away in panic. There was a message tied to its leg.

  Vincent looked out over the city. He wondered how many people had come here. Not to the bridge, but to this point, several dozen feet above the gantry.

  Yasi unrolled the message. "Wotcha found him." She said sharply. "Your Loan Shark is in an ask-no-questions Motel on the edge of the Bronx."

  Vincent felt his face harden. "Call the cops."

  "The cops will want to know where this information came from." She put a hand out gently and rested it on his shoulder. "We've done this before Vincent. Watchers see a lot of things. Some things we have to tell. I'm telling you, there might not be a lot the police can do. Monroe loaned money. That's not illegal. Gill tried suicide. It wasn't an assault."

  "You're not telling me to leave it alone." Vincent stared at her. "Are you?"

  "Of course not. I'm telling you to let me handle it." Yasi said seriously. "I am Shinobi. I protect the Underground. I know how to get the truth."

  Vincent suddenly realized how... terrifying Yasi could be. "Are you... Will you... Is he going to..."

  Yasi straightened, her posture becoming like a statue. "Do you really want to know?"

  "Not really, but I'm the one that asked you to find this guy. If he's found dead in his room tomorrow…"

  Yasi didn't smile. "Don't stress Vincent, I'll handle it right."

  Vincent nodded, accepting that at face value, as she launched the pigeon up in the air, it's wings flapping furiously.

  "Do we have to take the same route down?" He asked plaintively.

  "You can take the stairs if you like, but there are cameras. Someone might notice and wonder why you're going down if you never came up."

  Vincent sighed and made his way back to the rope.

  He turned back to ask her something…

  She was gone.

  ~oo00oo~

  Yasi considered the motel for a moment. The place was not unknown to the Lostkind. In fact, they used it themselves sometimes. They had little use for currency in the Underside, but they had access to it from various sources. If someone was injured and needed a safe warm place to stay for a few hours, or someone had something to hide...

  Places like this asked no questions, kept no records. Cash was preferred, and no one came by their room unless asked for.

  The Lostkind liked it that way.

  Yasi went into the lobby, checking for cameras. There was one, but it didn't seem to be hooked up. She glanced around. Front counter, office behind it, storeroom to the left. Paint was cracked and wallpaper peeling, the carpet had old cigarette stains...

  She could hear the desk clerk in the storeroom, not expecting customers at this hour. She picked up a pamphlet about the motel and went to the payphone at the lobby. She dialed the number for the Motel, and heard the phone ringing in the office behind the counter.

  A muffled cursing came from the storeroom, and the clerk came out, moving quickly through the lobby, a few mini-bar bottles in his hand. She left the phone off the hook and vanished as he passed. He never noticed her. He went around the counter to the office and picked it up. "Hello?"

  Yasi wasn't there. She was already at the counter, grabbing the motel roster. A quick scan of the page saw four men giving the name ‘John Smith' had checked in over the last two days. She found the most recent one, who had checked into room five; and put the book back.

  "Hello? Anyone there?"

  Yasi catwalked out, not making a sound; hanging up the payphone without breaking stride.

  ~oo00oo~

>   The door to Room Five was locked. She went in the window. Getting it open from the outside was a trick that any Lostkind knew.

  She found Monroe a moment later.

  The Loan Shark was dead.

  ~oo00oo~

  "Dead?" Vincent repeated in fear. His eyes flicked to the sword slung across her back before he could stop himself.

  "Before I got there. For at least half a day from the look of him." She assured him. "Which would be almost the moment he checked in at the Motel. He was stretched out on the bed, throat slit from ear to ear."

  "Any ideas who did it?"

  "I didn't stop to investigate. You said Gill believed he was feeling the pressure. Somebody must have got to him."

  "Wasn't a suicide?"

  "Nobody kills themselves with a knife across the throat." Yasi waved that off. "I snuck out, fixed the window so that nobody knew I opened it, and I got out of there. The Motel staff will find him sooner or later."

  "How'd you close the window from the outside?"

  "We're good at getting into places. What worries me is: How did the killer do it? The door was locked, so it was the only way. But that's not our problem. You can tell your friend his Loan Shark won't be back."

  Vincent smiled his thanks and they stayed that way for a moment, he standing against the kitchen counter, her perched on the edge of it, ankles crossed. She never sat in a chair.

  Short silence.

  With the mission over, reality was catching up. "You're going to get in trouble for this." Vincent said. It wasn't a question.

  Yasi answered him anyway. "Probably. I'm on pretty good terms with Keeper and Archivist. They hate extortion too."

  "What do you think will happen?"

  "To me, I don't know. To you... Well, for sure this is the last time you get to play Lostkind."

  He chuckled despite himself. "I know. It was worth it. Gill's a friend, and I've been neglecting that friendship. The result of which was, he wound up in hospital."

  "You can't blame yourself for that." Yasi said kindly. "You can't confess to a suicide attempt."

  "I don't blame myself, exactly." Vincent agreed. "But I was so proud of myself for being aware of what was going on around me for once... I didn't see my best friend was in trouble." He let that go for a moment, before chuckling a little. "Tonight was... exciting." He said finally. "I know it must be normal life for you, Captain of the New York Ninja, but for me..." He actually laughed. "Sending a secret team to track down criminals, and avenge a friend in trouble? That was... that was like something out of a comic book."