by Ryan, Matt
“You kids okay?” the guy asked, holding the door open.
“Is Jerry here?”
The guy laughed. “He’s the baker. Sometimes I think he lives here. Come on in.”
Mark turned to us. “He’s a friend of my mom’s. She told me to come here. Let’s go.”
The smell of bread and sugar filled the inside of the store. Summerford had a cake shop, but this place displayed loafs of bread, muffins, multi-colored donuts, and an assortment of croissants.
My stomach rumbled, but I kept my attention around the store. The guy who let us in appeared to be the only person in the shop.
“Jerry,” he yelled. “You got a customer up here asking for you.”
The back door swung open and a heavyset man wearing a white apron stepped through. He wiped the flour from his hands and took us in. He wasn’t wearing any stones that I could see, but it didn’t ease my discomfort of being in such a small area. If they were dark alchemists, we would be defenseless.
Jerry set the towel on the glass counter and walked around it. “Who are you? You look familiar.” He looked at Mark.
“You know my mom, Sarah Duval.”
His eyes went wide and he glanced at the guy who let us in before returning to us. “Come back here, quickly. Oscar, turn the sign over and lock the door.”
“But our rush hour is coming up. We need the sales—”
“I don’t give a damn. Close it up.”
Oscar had more to say but took a deep breath and mumbled the rest as he walked to the front door. Jerry motioned for us to come to the back of the store with him.
I passed a section of cupcakes perfectly lit in the glass display. Some had swirls of frosting and were decorated with edible sugar flowers or glitter. Maybe just one. . . .
“Come on, Allie,” Jackie said.
I bounced at her command and glided away from the cupcakes.
Huge mixers and long stainless steel tables filled much of the back room, while the rest of the space was ovens, tall as the ceiling. The smell in the lobby felt faint compared to the powerful smell of sugar and bread in the back. My nostrils filled with the fantastic odors and I enjoyed it while it lasted. Soon my nose would be overloaded and I’d lose the smell.
“What are you doing here? What happened?” Jerry asked.
“We were forced to stay at some academy, but I don’t think it was anything like the place you and my mom attended. They pitted us against one another, and only cared about having us create stones for them. We barely got out with our lives.”
Jerry rubbed his hand over his mouth and looked beyond Mark. “I’ve heard rumors they started an academy like that, but never thought it’d be real.” He gave a humorless laugh and his large double chin shook. “I’ve even heard the Intrepid were trying to break into it.”
“The Intrepid?” I asked and walked closer to him.
“Just a rumor, miss.”
Mark stepped forward. “Sorry, Jerry. I’ve been rude. I’m Mark, this is Allie, and back there eating your apple-cinnamon muffin is Jackie.”
“Sorry,” Jackie said with a mouth full. “This is so good.”
“No problem, feel free to help yourself.”
Could’ve said that back at the cupcake utopia.
“Jerry,” Mark said. “My mom set up some protocols with you, correct? We need a way out of the city and to the rendezvous place.”
“Of course,” Jerry grumbled. “Oscar.”
Oscar pushed the door open in an instant. “Yes.”
“I’m going on a delivery with these kids. Man the shop while I am gone. And don’t burn the croissants.” Jerry pulled the apron off and hung it on the wall. “I have a box truck in the back. I’ll get you to where you need to go.”
The thought of leaving the shop was bittersweet. I wished I was as bold as Jackie, grabbing what I wanted without asking. Even after he gave us his blessing, it felt wrong to take from him.
“Can we grab a few things for the road? We haven’t eaten in a while,” Jackie asked.
“My bakery is yours. But be quick and meet me in the back.”
Two invitations were enough to calm my anxieties of imposing on him. “Thank you.”
Once I had what I wanted, a blueberry muffin and a loaf of sourdough bread, we left his shop through the back door. The morning sun had risen enough to light up the streets.
Jerry slid open the back of the box truck and motioned for us to get in.
“Can we trust this guy?” Jackie whispered to us.
“Yeah, my mom vouched for him.”
“It’s only a couple hours drive from here. I’ll have you out of the city in a jiff,” Jerry said.
I used the step ladder and climbed into the back of the truck. A few pallets of flour, sugar, and other unmarked bags filled much of the space. Mark and Jackie climbed in behind me.
Jerry grasped a strap. “Stay near the front of the truck and sit down. You try walking and you’ll be bouncing around back here like a jumping bean.”
“You know where to go?” Mark verified.
“I do,” he said. “I’ll get you guys there but if for some reason we are stopped, stay low and hide. I don’t need to get a ticket on account of you all.”
“We’ll keep hidden,” I said.
“Okay.” He pointed to the end of the box truck. “You can grab some flour bags for a seat or whatever. Might save your buns, it’s going to be a long drive and this thing ain’t got the shocks it used to.”
Mark knelt down and extended his hand to Jerry. “Thank you. I know you didn’t have to do this and we appreciate the help.”
He shook his hand and laughed. “The hell I didn’t. Can you imagine what your mother would have done if I said no? It’d be worse than if Axiom himself was after me.”
Mark gave me a quick glance with wide eyes.
Jerry caught the look and raised an eyebrow. “Is there someone after you all?”
Mark took a deep breath. “A man, with bright blond hair and a pointy face almost got to us a few miles back.”
Jerry’s lips pursed and he closed his eyes. “Axiom. You kids are in way deeper than I wanted to jump.” He looked at the top of the gate on his truck and I saw the wheels turning. I doubt he would have let us in his truck if he knew who was after us. At least now we had a name to the face.
“Is he dangerous?” I asked.
Jerry let out a long breath. “Better you don’t ever find out. I’ll feel better when we get a few miles behind us.” He pulled the gate closed and latched the lock.
A couple of lights lit the interior of the box truck. With the door closed, the flour smelled dry and the dust settled into my eyes. I wiped them and looked to Mark. He stared at the door.
“I think we can trust him,” I said.
Mark shook his head. “I don’t think we have a choice at this point.”
The truck jolted forward and I fell to the floor. Mark tumbled and fell between me and the pallets. The pallets jostled a tad but held in place by large straps.
Mark lay on the floor next to me, with his feet in the air. He looked at me with a big smile and laughed. His laugh was infectious and I caught it in a second.
“He told us to sit down,” Jackie said from the front of the truck, “not go all romantic comedy up in here.”
Mark gave me a wink. “Come on, cupcake, let me help you up.”
We made our way, wobbling down the truck and sat next to Jackie. We were still laughing as we fell down. The truck must have made a sharp turn and the pallets slid a few inches.
“You think we can make some stones with this stuff?” I pointed to the bags of flour and sugar around us. They even had a few buckets to mix stuff in.
“We need a solvent,” Jackie said. When she looked at my confused face, she added, “Like water.”
“Oh,” I said, taking inventory again and only seeing dry ingredients.
“I’ve heard of alchemists using their own piss for a solvent. You know, in a pinch,” Jackie said.
Mark’s smile faded as we crawled next to Jackie. He pulled a couple bags from the pallet near us and set them on the floor for a makeshift seat. The truck bounced and turned, but I kept a wide stance and didn’t fall this time. Mark plopped down on the flour and let out a long sigh.
“We’re going to be okay,” I told him.
“I shouldn’t have used that stone. There are treaties and stuff here. If that guy, Axiom—or whatever his name is—gets to us, we could be in a whole heap of trouble.”
“Jerry will get us there,” I said, even though I didn’t know where he was taking us.
“You guys don’t get it. We are in dark central right now and don’t have a single stone to use in defense.” He pulled his knees closer to his chest and shook his head.
“What are you not telling us?” I watched him closely and waited for the bad news building over his face.
“I know the name Axiom,” he finally said. “I didn’t think it could possibly be him. What would be the chances of it being him?”
“I don’t know, one in a million?” Jackie said in sarcastic tone. “Just tell us what were up against here.”
Mark glanced at Jackie and then to me. “I’m quite confident he let us go. I’m not sure why though.” He turned to face me. “A man like him carries stones to take down entire buildings. At any moment he could have killed us, but refrained.”
I remembered him yelling in a mixture of amusement and insanity, I see you. Now that he saw us, did that mean he was a hound dog on the trail? “You think he can find us?”
“Yes, but I think if we can get ahead of him, we have a chance. We need to get out of this city.”
“Then where?” Jackie asked and I had the same question.
“I’m not sure, but I know my mom will have a plan. She’s been dodging all sides for a long time. This is what she does.”
An hour passed and I grilled Mark about the dark, and anything else he knew about the hierarchy of alchemists. He didn’t know as much as I wanted and it turned out Axiom was more of a boogeyman’s tale to scare young alchemists. There were leaders, but apparently they changed often as one grew weaker in the power, or was killed off. Mark had no idea about who led what faction anymore. His mom stopped talking to him about alchemy stuff once she learned he couldn’t make a stone.
With each piece of information Mark gave, even the vaguest tidbits, the alchemy world grew exponentially around me. At one point, I thought I was near the top of the food chain, as I could make any stone set in front of me. But now I was aware of how very little I knew. I felt small and insignificant again, and the feeling made me want to get to my mom even more.
“You think your mom can find her?” I asked Mark.
“Who?”
“My mom.” It was the first time I’d mentioned her since we left the academy, but every second she consumed my thoughts. If I didn’t start talking about it, I might burst.
“I don’t know. She is better at avoiding people.”
“She found me.”
“That she did. I think she will at least know who would know where she is.”
The idea of making progress toward my mom sent my spirits soaring. I beamed back at him with a big smile.
“She’s not going to be the person you remember as a child,” Jackie said.
I gritted my teeth. “She is my mom. I don’t need her to be anything else.”
“Bullshit.”
“What do you know?” I fumed. The truck bounced and I grasped the stack of flour bags next to me.
Jackie took a deep breath and looked away. “They never are, you know? They put on a face for us, but once they scrape the makeup and the plastered smile off their faces, they are just as sick and demented as the rest of the world.”
“How would you even know?” In every memory of my mom, she loved me and I loved her. We we’re happy.
Jackie laughed. “I would know because I was once in your very shoes. My mom left me as a child as well—though I didn’t have the benefit of her faking her death. No, she just left me at a park one day and never came back.” She glanced over to me. “I spent eight years conjuring cockamamie reasons as to why she left me. I put her on a pedestal as I bounced from foster home to foster home, recalling every fun moment we had. It wasn’t until later I started thinking differently.
“You see, when you’re a kid, you don’t think about spending nights in a car as a bad thing, or shaking your mom awake because a cop says we have to move. It’s all normal in your little naïve prism. You could watch her spend a lot of time in strange houses as you waited in the car and not bat an eyelash. I had old newspapers to color and wet kisses left on my cheek. It’s silly how little you need as a child but the love of your parent to be happy.”
Jackie smiled and looked at nothing in particular. Perhaps she was thinking of her mom kissing her on the cheek. I touched my forehead. My mom would kiss me there. I would give anything for that feeling again.
Her smile faded and she plucked at the edge of a paper bag of sugar. “When I saw her again, I was fifteen. She ended up at the hospital, dying from cirrhosis of the liver and a whole host of other jargon they used that I didn’t understand. Doctors wouldn’t do much and I didn’t have the strength to fight then. To them she was just some no-insurance-druggie, disposable. . . .”
She blinked and I saw the tears building in her eyes. If it was most people, I would have put an arm around her, but this was Jackie. She’d slug me for sure.
“When I walked into her hospital room, she didn’t recognize me. Hell, I barely recognized her, looking all thin and pale. You know what she wanted me to do once I convinced her I was her daughter?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I knew Jackie needed to unload. “What?”
“She told me where to get her some drugs. She wrote the directions down on the front of a magazine, right over the face of Ryan Gosling. I told her I didn’t have any money and she told me I should use what she gave me and pointed to my body.”
I covered my mouth and really hoped she was building to a pun of some sort, but the tears in her eyes told me she wasn’t. This really happened and it tore at my soul to think of Jackie going through it, alone. The risk would be worth it. I put my arm over her shoulder and nudged closer to her.
She leaned against my chest and continued, “When I refused, she went into a rage. Her IV got pulled out and blood dripped from her arm. She screamed at me and I screamed back out of fear. The nurses ran in and strapped her to the bed. One of them offered to help me, but I just ran. I didn’t want to see my mom like that anymore. I wished she had died before I ever saw her, it soiled my childhood memories and. . . .” Jackie stopped and sniffled.
She turned her head up to look at me. “Just don’t think your kid memories are an accurate portrayal of your parents. They aren’t. Your mom could be someone entirely different than who you think she is. She willingly left you, Allie, just as my mom did. A real mom doesn’t do that.”
I squeezed her much harder. Her words stung. I was putting my mom on a pedestal because there had to be a reasonable explanation for why she left me, something dire and noble. My mom rescuing me in the academy proved she cared enough to get me out of there. But she hadn’t left just me, she’d left my dad as well. Thinking of my dad, my chin quivered. He’d be home soon. He promised.
“Don’t start crying on me,” Jackie said and pushed off my chest. She composed herself and turned to Mark. “What’s your deal, Mark?”
His eyes looked misty as well. I am sure he was as disturbed by Jackie’s story as I was. He looked at the floor of the truck. “I guess I’m a card holding member of the dead parent society.”
“So your mom is the Alchy?” Jackie asked.
“I don’t know if my dad had the gift or not. My mom won’t talk about him. She has it, but is weak.”
“She’s a
Malki, like you?”
“Yeah, just like me.” Mark looked away.
A police siren blared from behind the truck. I jolted up and looked to Mark and Jackie.
“We better hide,” Mark said. “It’s illegal to ride in the back of one of these.”
“Great,” I said.
We crowded behind two pallets at the back of the truck. From the floor, I saw under the wooden pallet and to the end of the truck. The siren continued to blare and I felt the momentum of the truck shifting forward as we slowed. We jerked around as it stopped.
Cars could be heard whizzing by—we must be next to the freeway. I thought I heard footsteps in gravel by the side of the truck.
“What’s the problem, officer?” Jerry asked.
I closed my eyes and listened to the words.
“You drove around our checkpoint back there. Why?”
“I have a delivery to my East LA store. I was just trying to make good time.”
“Step out of the truck and open the back up,” the officer instructed.
“Okay, no problem.”
I pulled my feet in tighter and watched the back of the truck. The door lifted open, and the outside light flooded in.
Jerry squinted, scanning the contents of the truck. “Here you go, just some flour and baking supplies. You know we give the men in blue fifty percent off all purchases in our stores. It’s not something we advertise—”
The officer stepped forward and put his hand in Jerry’s face. If we stayed still, I didn’t think he would see us. The officer wore black gloves and I spotted his motorcycle behind the truck, parked on the dirt shoulder of the road, lights still flashing.
His hand touched the metal edge of the truck and clunked. I strained to see the yellow stone in his hand. He tapped it on the metal and rolled it under his palm. I froze as much as any freeze stone would make me and felt the quick breaths coming from Jackie on my arm. I didn’t dare move.
Thank you for reading the sneak peek of book 2.