Desolate Mantle (Street Games Book 2)

by L. K. Hill

  Something in the corner caught his eye. A large cardboard box lay close to the wall and a man slept soundly in it. The man’s feet pointed toward the left wall, and yet a leg stuck out to the right. If he hadn’t registered the man’s sleeping position, he wouldn’t have noticed. Someone lay between the box and the far wall.

  Picking his way toward the limb, he shouldered his way past the cardboard box. The wood was so thin here that, if he didn’t know better, he would have thought he stood outside right next to his car. He thought briefly about simply breaking through the wall to get out.

  He pushed passed the box. Kyra lay on the ground beside the wall, unconscious. She’d removed her black sweatshirt and wrapped it around one shoe. What had she said she’d done to her foot?

  “Supra? Supra, wake up.” He knelt down over her. The space was so narrow he had to either straddle her or kneel directly on her abdomen. He put one knee on either side of her thighs and leaned over her. “Supra. Open your eyes.” She turned her head with a soft groan, but didn’t wake, even when he patted her cheeks. Pushing to his feet, he twisted to look at her wrapped foot. He couldn’t see anything obviously wrong with it. Why would she have passed out? Putting a hand under her knee, he lifted her leg several inches off the ground. Dark liquid spurted from it in jets, and he realized it sat in a puddle of blood. Between the darkness and the sweatshirt, he just hadn’t noticed it right away.

  The staccato beep of a horn came from the other side of the thin wall. The Scavengers must be close for Tyke to do that.

  Cursing, Gabe leaned down and scooped Kyra into his arms, doing his best not to scrape her up on the overhanging cardboard and jagged wood as he made his way back toward the door.

  “Gabe?” she murmured. All the jostling was bringing her around.

  “Hold onto me, Kyra,” Gabe commanded in a whisper. She did, but her arms trembled with the effort and the grip on his shoulders felt weaker than most children could have managed.

  He shouldered through the door and his eyes widened. He could make out clear silhouettes, now. The Scavengers prowled less than a block up the street, moving shadows that were both extensions of the night and entities unto themselves. As soon as Gabe emerged with Kyra, the shadows froze, focusing on him. He waited, wondering they’d do. There must have been a dozen in all.

  All at once, in perfect unison, the showed broke into run, barreling toward him, hands full of sinister-looking hunks of metal. Gabe lunged toward the car, going for the back seat instead of the front. Tyke hit the power un-lock an instant before Gabe’s hand found the door handle. In one smooth motion, he and Kyra were in.

  “Go!”

  Tyke didn’t need any extra encouragement. He executed a tight U-turn, thumping over the curb and sending two large metal cans that must have once been meant for garbage spinning across the street. Something crashed into the trunk of Gabe’s car, accompanied by a shattering sound. He twisted around to look out the back windshield. They were throwing glass bottles at his car. One had connected. He’d probably lost a tail light. Several gunshots exploded into the night. If the shots came anywhere near the car, Gabe couldn’t tell. As Tyke eased down on the gas pedal, the silhouettes shrank. Seconds later, they disappeared entirely into the darkness.

  “Think that one was close enough, Nichols?” Tyke growled from the front seat. “Next time you should let the homicidal gang get a bit closer.”

  Gabe didn’t bother to answer. Tyke only called him ‘Nichols’ when he was profoundly freaked out.

  “Is she okay?” Tyke asked a moment later.

  “No. She’s lost a lot of blood. Go to the hospital.” Tyke nodded.

  “I’m okay,” Kyra murmured, trying to pull herself into a sitting position. Her arms gave out before she managed it. Gabe put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back against the seat. It didn’t require much pressure.

  “I thought you said you hurt your foot,” he said angrily.

  “I did,” she mumbled.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “How?”

  She glanced at him, her eyes still somewhat out of focus, and wouldn’t look at him when she answered. “A bullet, I think.”

  Gabe threw up his hands. “That would have been helpful information for you to give me over the phone, Kyra.”

  “Would it have gotten you here any quicker?”

  “We waited outside for five minutes. If I’d known about the bullet I would have come in and gotten you. We could be at the hospital by now.”

  Tyke coughed. When Gabe glared at him in the rear view mirror, he silently put his eyes back on the road. Yes, the hospital was far more than five minutes from where they were. That was entirely beside the point. He turned back to Kyra.

  “I didn’t mean to pass out, Gabe,” she said. Her voice was quiet but held acid. “It just happened.”

  Gabe sighed. Yelling at her right now would be worse than pointless. “Tyke, if you can reach it, I have a first aid kit under the passenger seat.”

  Guiding the wheel with one hand and keeping his eyes on the road, Tyke rummaged under the seat until he found it. Gabe popped it open and pulled out some bandages and gauze. Kyra was bleeding all over his car and if he didn’t get it under control, she’d be out again long before they reached the emergency room.

  Chapter 19

  Three hours later, Gabe made his way down the gleaming white hospital corridor toward Kyra’s room. His shoes squeaked loudly on the shiny, tiled floors. He glanced out a window. The sky was still dark, but less than an hour remained until dawn. Kyra’s injury had been treated. While her blood loss hadn’t been life-threatening, it did warrant a transfusion. She’d been admitted for twenty-four hours of observation. He didn’t know any more than that, but intended to ask. Then he intended to talk to Kyra until she saw sense. Kyra, who was mule-stubborn and not particularly open to life-saving suggestions.

  When he reached the right room, he raised a fist to knocked, but paused. The door stood open a crack, and he could hear both Shaun and Kyra’s voices just beyond.

  “We call them Scavengers,” Shaun said. “We know the Mirelings refer to them as Prowlers.”

  “Are they part of the Songs of Ares?” Kyra asked, genuine curiosity in her voice.

  “Not that we can tell,” Shaun answered. “They’re a society all their own. A gang really, in their own right. We’re sure they coexist with the Sons of Ares, as neither side ever seems to try and kill the other. At least, not that we’ve seen. So little is known about the Scavengers. We can’t say anything about them with one hundred percent certainty.”

  “What do they actually do?” Kyra asked.

  Shaun heaved a deep sigh. “We don’t really know that either. They scavenge. Take whatever they can from whomever they can. They never come into the light. Ever. It’s like they’re afraid of it. They’re dangerous, Kyra. Stay away from them at all costs. People who run into them are beaten, raped, and we suspect often killed.”

  “You suspect?” Kyra asked.

  “Yes. They don’t leave bodies in their wake, so it’s hard to say for sure or to gather evidence for that. But more than one of our C.I.s who has observed the Scavengers have reported seeing groups of them beat victims to death and drag the bodies away.”

  A soft gasp reached Gabe’s ears. It had to be Kyra’s.

  “You understand, then,” Shaun said, “Why I’m begging you to stay away from them?”

  “Believe me, Shaun,” Kyra’s confident voice wafted clearly to Gabe. “I want a run-in with them less than you want me to have one. They’re just so subtle. I didn’t know anything about them the first few months I was here. It’s amazing I never ran into any of them. Then I told my friend Sadie about something I’d seen down a dark alley and she flipped out and told me what she knew. It wasn’t much. It’s like she’s totally spooked by them—terrified—but doesn’t actually know who or what they are. At least you’re saying they’re violent. She couldn’t even tell me exactly what they do.”

 
“I’m not surprised,” Shaun said. “You called them subtle. I call them ghosts. They’re like scary stories people tell children to keep them in line: if you don’t eat your vegetables you’ll turn green. Be good or the boogeyman will get you. Not much detail or evidence to back up such claims, but they were still scary as hell. Same thing with the Scavengers. The Mirelings are superstitiously afraid of them. And rightly so.”

  A deep sigh followed. Definitely Kyra’s. “Were Gabe or Tyke hurt?” There was a hitch in her voice with the last question.

  “No. Not at all,” Shaun said gently. “Just a tail light, and that’s not a big deal. It could have been far worse if the Scavengers had gotten there more quickly.”

  “I understand,” she said quietly. “Thank you for the information.”

  Silence reigned for a few seconds before Shaun spoke again. “Do you understand everything else I’ve told you, Kyra?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “We just want you to be safe.”

  A soft laugh from Kyra. “I know. And despite what Gabe may think, I want that too. I have too much to do to be laid up like this.”

  Afraid they might start talking about him, Gabe quickly knocked.

  “Come in,” Shaun called.

  Gabe pushed open the door to find Shaun sitting in a chair beside Kyra’s hospital bed, looking grave. He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment as Gabe shut the door behind him.

  Kyra sat up in the hospital bed, looking haggard. All her Supra makeup had been washed away. She looked completely herself, with sandy blond hair falling heavily around her shoulders. Yet her face was the same color as if she’d been wearing the pale makeup, her eyes bloodshot. He supposed it was to be expected with an injury as traumatic as a gunshot. She wore a hospital gown and a frumpy pink afghan—one Gabe saw warming every patient he’d ever come here to take a statement from—draped her legs. The injured leg stuck out of it, covered in bandages thick enough to be a cast and elevated on pillows.

  Kyra and Shaun merely stared at him. Neither said anything.

  “What did the doctor say?” Gabe asked.

  Shaun looked at Kyra, who shrugged. “It was a through and through. I largely escaped the potential damage.”

  “Largely escaped?” he pressed.

  She nodded. “It nicked some vessels, which is why it wouldn’t stop bleeding. No major arteries or anything.” She inhaled deeply and her voice took on a forced optimism. “A surgical intern stitched me up.” She shrugged again.

  Gabe raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And that’s it?”

  “He said I had to stay off it for a week.”

  Shaun cleared his throat loudly. He suddenly seemed to find the ceiling fascinating.

  Kyra glanced at him irritably. “I should stay off it for six weeks, until it heals all the way, but one week is all that’s mandatory.”

  It was all Gabe could do not to sigh. So, not only did she nearly get herself killed, she wasn’t planning to give her body the proper R&R it needed to properly recover.

  Shaun got to his feet. “I’ve already explained the department’s position to Ms. Roberts,” he said, moving by Gabe. “I’ll let you two talk.”

  Gabe nodded and the door clicked shut behind his boss. He moved over to take Shaun’s seat. “And what is the department’s position?” he asked. He already knew what Shaun would have told her, of course, but he wanted to hear from her that she understood.

  She shrugged again, picked at the crocheted quilt covering her lap. “That what I’m doing is terribly dangerous. The department can’t officially condone a private citizen doing what I’m doing. Oh, and if I die, I’m not allowed to sue the cops.”

  Her eyes took on a twinkle with the last sentence. Gabe didn’t smile. “It’s not funny, Kyra,” he said quietly

  The twinkle faded immediately. “I know.” She inhaled deeply and met his eye. The bloodshot condition of the whites of her eyes made the irises seem darker, the pupils like deeper pools. “Thank you. For coming to get me. Shaun said your car got vandalized. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t care about my damn car, Kyra,” Gabe said sharply. She looked taken aback so he moderated his tone. “You almost died tonight.”

  She turned away. “I didn’t almost die. It’s minor.”

  “It’s a gunshot wound. That’s never minor. What if I hadn’t gotten there when I did? What if you’d passed out before getting to a phone? You could have bled to death. What if they had caught you?”

  She didn’t answer for a minute, and he could tell she was trying to think of something to say. “I told you it was minor,” she said, too calmly. She gazed up at him again, her eyes steady. “Even if it wasn’t, I’m way too determined a person to just lie down in a ditch somewhere, Gabe. Don’t you know that about me by now?”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re…” he motioned toward her bandaged foot and stopped short of saying bulletproof.

  “I know,” she said quietly. “But everything worked out.”

  He barked an angry laugh and rubbed his forehead. “Right.”

  “Gabe,” she said, putting a hand softly on his arm. “You’re angry. You have every right to be. But it won’t change anything.”

  Yanking away from her, he paced to the window, then turned and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. His voice came out hard. “Why not?”

  Her eyebrows went down. “What do you mean, ‘why not?’ Why would it?”

  “Kyra,” he came back to the chair, keeping his eyes down until he was actually ready to speak. He put a hand on her arm and raised his gaze. “You have to stop this. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

  The instant the word ‘stop’ left his mouth, her face hardened. “Stop what?”

  He didn’t answer, just stared down into her eyes from inches away.

  She let out a frustrated breath. “I knew the risks when I came here, Gabe. I told you that. I’ve dedicated myself to this. I’m not looking for an out. I thought you understood that.”

  “I do understand, but being dedicated is not the same thing as dodging bullets. It’s all right to say you did all you could do and didn’t find him.”

  “And then what?” she burst out so loudly he leaned back. “Go home? Leave my brother to rot here?”

  “You don’t even know for sure he’s here.” Gabe said quietly.

  “Then I’ll keep searching until I do.”

  “Or until you are the body in my next crime scene,” he shot back, and instantly regretted it when she grimaced. “Kyra—”

  “No, no, no!” She cut the air with her hands, shouting the last word. She took a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair before turning to face him. “Don’t do this, Gabe. Don’t do any of it.”

  “Any of what?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “Don’t ask me to stop. You, of all people, please don’t ask me to stop searching for my brother.”

  A cold iron fist closed in his chest. He ignored it. “Kyra,” he said, keeping his voice tightly controlled. “I search for my brother every day. But my search doesn’t put my life in danger.”

  “And if you had the option,” she said, voice quavering and eyes growing misty, “to put your life on the line, and have a good chance of coming out of it with your brother in tow, would you do it?”

  Gabe sat back hard against his seat. She had him there and they both knew it. Was it rational? No. And he was trying very hard to be the rational one in this conversation. But if it were him…

  “This is exactly why I didn’t want to involve anyone else in this,” she muttered. “Maybe we should cut this whole thing off right here and now.”

  “What whole thing?” he asked, registering vague alarm.

  “This. Me being your C.I. All of it. There’s a reason I hesitated at first, Gabe.” She thrust an arm out toward the door Shaun had gone through. “The department can’t be liable for me. I know that. I totally get it. They shouldn’t have to be. And you shouldn’t have to worry about me
night and day. You have work to do and a life to live. That’s exactly why I decided I would do this completely on my own: there’s too much potential for anyone else to get hurt. You shouldn’t,” she sighed. “You shouldn’t have to be here.”

  “But I am here,” he said firmly.

  “Because it’s your job,” she muttered.

  Gabe jumped to his feet. “Is that what you think? I’m here because they pay me to be? Trust me, Kyra, no job in the world could pay me well enough for this shit.” He paced away from her, the length of the bed, until he had his voice under control. With all this yelling, a nurse would come running sooner or later. He turned back to her. “I’m here because I care about you.”

  “Then stop,” she said firmly.

  “What?”

  “Just. Stop. Caring.”

  He stared at her, registering the moisture in her eyes.

  “Don’t get attached to me, Gabe,” she said, her voice growing thick. She took on a pleading look. “Because you’re right. About all of it. There’s a good chance I could get myself killed looking for Manny.” A tear escaped her eye and raced down her cheek. She didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve accepted that. I need you to do the same.”

  Gabe turned away, scoffing.

  “I already warned you about this, Gabe,” she said, her voice hardening. “This is the way it has to be. It still is. And not just for my sake,” she said. “For yours. When I lost my brother, it tore my family apart and made me question everything about who I was, Gabe. I can only imagine your experience with your brother was worse, because you were a kid and it wasn’t his choice.”

  Gabe flinched. He didn’t know how she’d gleaned that from what he’d told her. She understood the situation far better than he’d realized.

  “I don’t want you to find me in a crime scene either, Gabe. Truly I don’t. But more than that, if some day you do, I don’t want you to feel guilty and broken-hearted about it. The last thing in the world I want is for you to be hurt on my account.” She took a deep breath before going on, looking exhausted. “So, just stop. If I have really urgent information, I’ll get it to you somehow. Otherwise, let’s let it go. All of it.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I shouldn’t have started this in the first place.”