by wildbow
“Coast is clear, I think,” Duncan said. “We should go.”
He flicked the leashes. His pets started to move.
“Um,” Abby jumped in.
“What?” Duncan asked, stopping short. The leashes jerked tight against the harnesses.
“The bleat.”
“I asked around. There’s a lot of farmland around the perimeter of the town,” Duncan said. “They hold regular farmer’s markets. Bleating isn’t unusual.”
“But people are acting like it’s unusual,” Abby said. She pointed at the crowd, then wasn’t sure what to point to, exactly, and let her hand drop.
“I think it’s best to stick to the game plan that Mary and Lillian outlined for us,” Duncan said. “No distractions.”
There was another bleat.
Abby broke away from the group, heading straight for the sound.
A hand grasped at her shoulder, then seized one of her braids instead. Her head was yanked, and she felt an awful pain at that. She squeezed her eyes shut, her mind and body hurled into a room that was unpleasant and throbbing.
“Shoot, sorry!” Duncan said, letting go of her hair.
Ashton reached for her, and she swatted at his hand, turning her face away. She swiped at the air between Duncan’s hand and her braid. Off to the side, Emmett had stepped in, shoving Duncan against the wall, separating the two of them.
“Sorry. I am very, very sorry,” Duncan said. “I legitimately didn’t mean to do that. I meant to grab your shoulder.”
Abby hunkered down, shoulders forward, eyes screwed shut. She wanted the pain to go away, and to leave that pulsating red room that she wasn’t really in well behind her. But, paradoxically, she held her breath, because she didn’t want Ashton to be the one who dragged her out of the room.
“Sorry,” Duncan said, his voice softer. “I won’t grab at you again, okay?”
Abby nodded. She opened her eyes, found them watery, and then squeezed her eyes shut again, the moisture squeezed out and onto her cheeks.
She felt a hand on her back and flinched. But it was a big hand, and a gentle one. Emmett. She nodded again, and the hand rubbed her back.
“We’ll take a detour, okay?” Duncan asked. “Go investigate? But we’ll do it as a group. We can’t run off and get split up.”
Abby nodded. She opened her eyes.
“Good,” Duncan said. “We’ll go directly there in just a minute.”
There were people in the street that were now staring. In the background, there was another bleat.
“Not to sound callous, but I do wonder if Sylvester and Jamie saw that, and what they made of it,” Duncan said, looking out beyond the buildings and street for vantage points that their quarry might be watching from.
Abby rocked a little with the motion of Emmett’s rubbing of her back. She eventually raised a hand, and gently moved his hand away.
Her voice was only barely a whisper to Emmett, inaudible to Duncan, “Don’t hurt him.”
Emmett nodded.
She turned to look at Ashton and Lara, who were standing together. Lara reached out, using a hand that had cloth draped over it, and dabbed at Abby’s tears. The now-faintly-moist cloth went into Lara’s mouth to be sucked at.
“Okay,” Duncan said. He glanced back to verify everyone was with him. “We’ll investigate.”
They moved as a group, heading across the street, weaving past people and wagons.
Their target was hard to reach, because a crowd had gathered around it.
“Excuse me,” Duncan said, pushing through the crowd, his two animals helping spook people into moving out of his way. Emmett made use of the opening Duncan had created by wedging himself into it, then using his arms and body to help provide a path for the other three members of the group. Ashton, Lara, and Abby were all about the same height, and moved in single file.
It bleated again. White and wooly. A lamb, but not the sort they sought. It had been left here, leashed to a parked wagon.
“This yours?” someone asked.
“It’s not mine,” Duncan said. “But it might belong to someone I know.”
“You sure? Why? Ran off, he did.”
Duncan raised his head, his interest piqued. “A boy with wild dark hair?”
“A giant rabbit,” someone commented. Another person, Abby saw, nodded in agreement at that.
“Of course it was,” Duncan said. He heaved out a sigh. “That makes enough sense to me.”
“You know what this is about, then?” a bystander asked.
“A prank, if anything,” Duncan said.
The explanation seemed to serve. The crowd dispersed, the mystery solved.
Duncan looked back at the group. “He’s already a step ahead of us, it seems.”
“Mary said he would be,” Ashton said.
“Emmett, would you?” Duncan asked, while holding the leashes for his pets out for Emmett to take. There was no expectation that Emmett might say no.
Emmett didn’t say no. He took the leashes, and Duncan stooped down over the bleating lamb, searching it. He came away with a folded paper.
“Ah,” he said. “A dire warning.”
Abby stood on her toes again, craning her head to try to read and to see the lamb better with Duncan in the way.
“Oh,” Duncan said, on seeing her straining. He stood, holding the paper. “The local gangs are apparently very upset, after some very targeted instances of arson. Sylvester thought it diplomatic to warn us that we should watch our backs, in case there was trouble. He wants us to know he was expecting the other Lambs, not us, he’s sorry, he doesn’t want to put us in danger, so he’ll be actively steering trouble away from us, best he can.”
“That sounds like Sylvester,” Ashton said. He reached over to squeeze Lara’s sleeve and arm more. “Don’t worry. We’re still okay.”
Duncan stared down at the note, frowning deeply. Abby watched his expression carefully.
“We’ll touch base,” Duncan said, covering his mouth, “Talk to the other Lambs. We should find a good place to do it.”
“A high place,” Lara said.
“Yeah,” Duncan said. “I think I saw a place we could use a little bit further on.”
He turned to go, expecting the others to follow. They did, but as Abby turned away, her attention and hands reaching for the little white lamb, the others hung back. Ashton spoke, “Duncan.”
“What? Oh. Abby, come on.”
Stubborn, ignoring him, Abby worked to untie the leash from the wagon.
“Abby. Listen. We can’t take that with us.”
“Bleeaah,” the lamb bleated.
“Bleeaah,” Abby bleated back. She was good at animal sounds. She reached out, and the lamb nuzzled at her hands and forearms.
“Emmett, would you please get Abby standing and keep her with us?” Duncan asked.
Before Emmett could move, Ashton spoke, “You hurt her.”
“I did. I still feel bad about it.”
“Make it up to her,” Ashton said. “That’s how one of the longer Good Simon stories might end.”
Duncan lowered his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.
“You want to be a good person, don’t you?” Ashton asked.
“Life isn’t a storybook, Ashton.”
“You’re right,” Ashton said, then continued with his relentless attack, “But wouldn’t it be nice if it was?”
Abby tried to shut her ears to the ongoing conversation. She lowered her face to meet the little lamb’s and nuzzled it. The room she felt herself passing into was bright and made the world lighter and warmer, and a lot of that warmth reached deep into the center of her chest, to the point she almost worried she might have fits. She tried to put it out of her mind while enjoying the presence and the smell and the movement and the warmth of another living creature. She rocked side to side a little as the lamb rubbed its face against her neck and shoulder, then tried to bite her braid.
“I
think it would be a horrid and thrice-lanced pain in the ass if life was a storybook, honestly,” Duncan said.
“Lillian says that good things are never easy,” Ashton said.
Duncan let out a long and drawn out groan.
“Bleeeh,” Abby bleated.
“Bleaa!” the lamb responded.
She shut her eyes, trying to capture the moment in her memories.
Duncan spoke, “You’ll have your own team, Duncan. Ashton likes you and cooperates with you, so you can keep him with you, Duncan. You’ll be able to show off your leadership skills, Duncan. There won’t be as much friction.”
“That’s a yes?” Ashton asked.
“Yes,” Duncan said, tersely. “Yes. Abby. You can bring the damned thing.”
Abby gave the lamb a scratch behind the ears and along the neck before standing, her dress flouncing with the movement. She bumped the lamb with her leg, to let it know where she was, and then tugged the rope leash. It resisted at first, but after she offered it a scratch of the neck and retreated, it followed. With only a little more guidance, it moved happily at her side.
Duncan looked particularly sour as he looked back at her and the lamb, walking between Emmett and Ashton.
“Bell tower,” Duncan said, pointing. “Old watchtower, I think? If we can get inside, we can head up.”
“Okay,” Ashton responded.
It was seemingly true that the city had more farmers and people with animals, because the only strange looks they got were the usual ones, reserved for a boy too big and strong for his age, for hooded Lara, and for Abby, who was put together in an odd way. If anything, she got less strange looks than usual as she walked briskly along the trotting lamb.
All of the lingering bad experiences from earlier had dissipated with this. She’d harbored some worries when thinking about their quarry, before. The way that Lillian and Mary and some of the Doctors had talked about Sylvester and Jamie, the concern, the way that everything became so complicated, it had been like she was in a room where she was flailing, trying to get her balance but with nothing in arm’s reach to hold on to, or in a deep place with the surface too far away.
But they had somehow given her a gift, and now she still felt like she couldn’t quite figure these two people out, but maybe they weren’t all bad? She was warm inside, and tomorrow might hold more moments like this, not more minutes and miles spent away from the place she knew.
“Smile,” Ashton said.
Abby looked over.
“When you’re feeling good, you should smile.”
Abby smiled as best as she could, with her strange teeth.
Ashton smiled back, reached out to squeeze her hand once, then let go.
They reached the tower. The building ended up being occupied by Crown forces, but that ended up a positive, because Duncan was able to show some identification. The soldiers stood by, staring curiously as the group went up the stairs.
It was extra positive because the soldiers would guard the ground floor. There were reasons for being up high, and one was that it made it very hard for them to be listened to.
Once they’d reached the top and Duncan passed on some instructions and a note, the guards up top passed downstairs. Duncan tied up his animals and headed to the railing. He walked around the perimeter of the towertop, looking down at nearby rooftops and buildings.
“Lara,” he said.
Lara nodded, then settled down onto the floor. She hunched over, then cocked her head this way and that.
“Bleeaah!” the lamb bleated.
Abby settled on the floor as well. Emmett sat beside her, and reached out to give the animal a pat.
After a moment’s consideration, Abby handed the animal over, helping to get it settled so it was lying in Emmett’s lap. He cupped his hands around it to help keep it in place.
And, because it made sense on a strange level, she gave Emmett’s back a rub while he enjoyed having the animal there.
“Okay,” Lara said.
“Yes?” Duncan asked. He smiled. “Great! Lillian? Mary?”
There was a pause.
“Lillian: We’re here, Duncan,” Lara said.
“Excellent! We’re currently at the northwest watchtower. Arrived more or less without incident, but he’s already on us. He dropped off a warning and an… inadvertent present.”
Pause.
“Helen: Ooh, present!” Lara said, mimicking the inflection in a stilted way.
“A lamb. Because he apparently thinks he’s funny,” Duncan said. “Abby took an immediate liking to it.”
“Helen: Awww. Mary: What was the warning?”
“A note. He started a gang war. There are thugs around who would be very happy to get their hands on anyone young and vulnerable, with special mention for any Lambs. Set fire to their headquarters and baited them out.”
“Lillian: Of course he did,” Lara reported.
“He promised protection for our group, because he thought it would be you who turned up, and that you could handle it, albeit with some distraction.”
“Mary: Charmer.”
“Charmer,” Duncan echoed. “I wanted to let you know we’re situated, and we’ll be moving out. It’s getting late, and it’s getting considerably darker. We’ll probably roam a bit, eat, figure out how to get our new pet fed, and then get settled.”
The lamb bleated.
“Lillian and the others are laughing because I transcribed the animal’s noise after giving them your message,” Lara said. She stopped abruptly, turning her head a little, then said, “Lillian: I’m crying.”
Abby saw a smile pass over Duncan’s face.
“Mary: we’re in the city too, but we’re staying out of sight for now. Your plan sounds good. Stay on course. We’ll try to find an angle to get at him.”
“Thank you, Mary.”
“Mary: We’ll be getting our dinner now, so good night for now.”
“Good night,” Duncan said.
“Helen: Baaaaa. And they’re laughing again. Now they’re gone.”
Duncan smiled at that. He gave Lara a pat on the shoulder, stood, and crossed over to where Abby and Emmett sat. He bent down and gave a light stroke to the side of the now-sleeping lamb.
“Thank you,” he said. “For making them laugh. It’s been a tense few months of trying to track those two.”
“It can’t understand you,” Ashton pointed out.
“I know, you pedant,” Duncan said. He straightened, stretching. “What do you guys say about some dinner?”
Nobody in the group was going to say no to that. Duncan gave Lara a hand in standing, then did the same for Abby. Abby remained virtually glued to Emmett’s side as the boy held the sleeping lamb cradled in his hands and arms. The smile Ashton had encouraged earlier didn’t leave her face.
They headed down the stairs.
They were a short distance from the ground floor when they heard the faint murmur.
Duncan stopped in his tracks.
“No,” he said, after a moment. “No. That mother-cunting little bastard. He didn’t, no.”
The murmuring grew more distinct as they got closer to the ground floor of the tower.
“Sir,” Duncan greeted the captain in charge of the tower. “Is that what I think it is?”
“I have to imagine so?” the captain answered, sounding unsure. “Bizarre.”
“Yes,” Duncan said. “I imagine so. At least we know we have his attention, so we’re doing our job as proper bait.”
“The most curious thing—”
“Was the giant rabbit?” Duncan asked.
“The rabbit man,” the captain confirmed.
Duncan set his jaw, glanced back at Abby with a hostile, deeply annoyed look, then pushed open the door to the tower. The rest of the group was quick to follow.
Three young lambs and one chicken were tied up at different points outside the front of the tower.
Abby felt the warm and air-light room warm up even more, the l
ightness becoming a fluttering feeling that might even buoy her into the air. Her smile widened.
“No!” Duncan said, pointing at her. “No. One pet. One.”
The feeling dissipated a little. Some of it lingered, however. The smile remained on Abby’s face.
“He thinks he’s funny,” Ashton said, echoing Duncan from earlier. Duncan glared daggers at the little red-haired boy.
“It’s a little funny,” Emmett said.
Previous Next
Black Sheep—13.2 (Lamb)
There was a knock on the door of the automobile. Helen was the one to open the door. Lillian waited for Nora, Lacey and Mary to climb out before she made her way out.
Immediately, her focus was on her surroundings. The corners of the garage they had pulled into, the little windows that looked in from the top of the double-doored gate and from the rear of the room. It was dark enough she couldn’t see clearly, but the gleams of reflected light from outside and from the open door in front of her made her momentarily think she’d seen Sylvester’s face or the lenses of Jamie’s glasses.
The Academy officer who had knocked on the automobile’s door now closed that same door. He stared down at her as if she’d somehow wronged him. It reminded her of her dad, and the expression he’d worn when, so soon after they’d left the Academy, her parents had been intercepted and sent back to sit in while she was interrogated about Sylvester’s disappearance.
He hadn’t believed her. If anything, her father had believed her less than the Academy interrogators had. Maybe that was her own bias, her fears and her disappointment in her father coloring her perceptions.
She quickly retreated from the dark garage and the officer’s expression, entering the building and closing the door behind her. Lacey was talking to a very attractive forty-something man in fine clothing that was nonetheless drab in color. He had black hair going gray at the temples and a shrewd expression. Even though it was later in the evening and he had bags under his eyes speaking to a long day, his eyes were clever and focused as he talked to Lacey. He looked like the sort of man who shaved twice a day just to banish the possibility of a five o’clock shadow, and who likely had his hair trimmed once a week. Very possibly the owner of this spacious home.