By a Thread

by Nyna Queen

  He sighed. He shouldn’t have taken this job, should have known that it was too good to be true that no one had taken the vacant chief post yet. Chief posts were rare here in the south—and usually fiercely contested. But they’d dangled this post in front of his nose like a steak in front of a hungry dog and he’d been too eager to wonder if there was poison in it. He knew places like the Trash Bin were trouble, he just hadn’t expected how much.

  He put an appeasing hand on Keane’s shoulder. “I’ll go ask if they made any progress.”

  Maybe … maybe they had found something already, something he and his men could follow up on.

  Another plume of smoke rose, the smell reminding him too much of a funeral pyre.

  Donnaghue rubbed his forehead where a nagging itch was starting to grow. He would have to get himself a new cup of coffee. Somehow, he had the feeling that this was going to be a very long day.

  ALEX stepped up to her apartment and found her hopes disappointed. She felt at least one pair of light feet pacing through the room behind the door. Still there, then. For better or worse, she wouldn’t know until she faced them.

  When she pushed the door open both kids spun around in alarm, but it faded a little when they realized it was only her. They sure were making progress in the trust-department.

  Alex dropped her large plastic bag onto the floor and carried two steaming cardboard boxes over to the counter.

  “There’s a hell of a lot going on out there,” she told them as she put down the boxes. “We should leave soon. They’re combing through the whole area … a whole array of them, actually.”

  She frowned a little. For the Bin this was rather remarkable. Of course, there were dead people and two trueborn children involved, yet the mills of law enforcement usually ground way more slowly in this place.

  The kids exchanged a quick glance. It was so fleeting, Alex wasn’t sure if she’d just imagined it. She looked from one to the other, but they were both approaching the counter with hungry eyes. Well, she probably had imagined it.

  “Alright.” With a flick of her hand, she flipped open the boxes, revealing two thickly topped pizzas. “I brought salami and tuna. Help yourselves. Hope you don’t mind using your fingers.” Her one pair of cutlery was still unwashed in the sink from the day before.

  One would think that most children would be delighted to be allowed to eat with their hands, yet Josy couldn’t have looked any more grossed out, had she suggested to eat directly from the dirty floor.

  “Sorry.” Alex shrugged, not feeling sorry at all. “I’m not really used to—”

  “The minimum standards of social etiquette?” the girl suggested snidely.

  “Guests,” Alex growled. Little priss!

  At least Max didn’t seem to mind and happily grabbed a piece of salami-jalapeno pizza.

  “Shhat’s great,” he said around a big mouthful of half-chewed pizza, licking his greasy fingers.

  Alex grinned, taking a slice of tuna. “Yeah. Surely not the healthiest option, but once in a while it is definitely worth the sin.”

  The boy dug in with a surprising appetite for such a little kid. But then she remembered how her half-brothers had always appeared famished after a long lesson in magic craft. At that age, with the body still deeply in the process of growth, the use of magic was particularly debilitating for the body that quickly burned through its spare energy reserves. The results were a higher metabolism and increased appetite to refuel the system. It was why a lot of young trueborn teens had a rather gaunt, unhealthy look about them. Alex watched Max take his fourth slice of pizza. Teleporting them over five hundred miles must have felt like plowing a whole field with a kiddy shovel. It was a wonder he had held up that well for so long.

  Even Josy, who first scrunched up her nose at the pizza, found nothing to criticize about the food—although she sure made an effort—and grabbed the last piece of tuna when she thought Alex wasn’t looking.

  After they’d finished, and Alex had disposed of the waste, she retrieved the plastic bag, pulled out the clothes, and tossed them at the kids. “Here, put these on.”

  They caught the bundles and inspected them.

  “My choices were limited,” Alex said apologetically. It was a lucky thing that the second-hand store round Evan’s Corner had had anything remotely fitting at all. She’d had to search the boxes from top to bottom to find them. “Hope they fit and if not … well, you’ll have to wear them anyway. My money’s all spent.” And she didn’t feel devastated about it. Not at all.

  Max curiously unfolded the black hooded sweater in his lap, while his sister stared at the stuff in her hands with an expression short of outrage. Alex rubbed her eyes, tiredly. What was it now? She couldn’t have misjudged the girl’s size in such a drastic way, could she?

  “There a problem?”

  Josy glanced up at her, holding the pair of blue denim pants gingerly pinched between the tips of two fingers as if they would bite her. “Those are jeans!”

  “I know. I bought them.”

  “I-I can’t wear these—these things!” she said in a voice that made Alex think she had suggested Josy go stark naked.

  “And why not?” What could possibly be wrong with a pair of jeans?

  “It’s most improper,” Josy said stiffly. “Grandmother says pants like these are for hussies.”

  Alex looked down at her own worn out jeans and chose not to comment on that. “I’m awfully sorry to chip away at your sense of propriety, but you’ll still have to wear them.”

  The girl stubbornly shook her head, a spark in her eyes telling Alex she was about to put up a fight. Well, there would be no fight about this.

  “You will, sugar,” Alex repeated casually, leaning her back against the counter, “because running around in the Bin like that,” she waved her hand at her prim dress and neat black shoes, “is provoking the big double R.” Not to mention that they’d stick out like a sore thumb.

  “Double R?” Max asked.

  Alex flashed him a biting grin. “Rob and rape me.”

  Josy paled. “You—you cannot possibly mean that.”

  “You bet your ass.”

  “That’s horrible!” the girl exclaimed. “What kind of place is this?”

  “Welcome to the real world, sugar!”

  Josy stared at her, open-mouthed, obviously at a loss for words. An opportunity to seize, if they wanted to be gone before the search was expanded to this part of the Bin.

  Alex pushed herself off the counter. “Bathroom’s over there.” She pointed with her thumb. “You can change in there, while I pack up my stuff.”

  They’d have to squeeze to fit in together, but it was all the privacy she could grant them.

  Still looking like she was railing against her fate, Josy followed Max into the little bathroom. The door closed behind them.

  Alex looked around the apartment. A cold weight settled in the base of her stomach. Get to it, sugar. It’s not going to get any better if you postpone it.

  With a sigh, Alex set to work. She knew the drill. Walking from room to room, she methodically cleared out the cupboards and drawers, stripped the bed and emptied her wardrobe, gathering all her meager belongings in the little hall. It didn’t take long and most of what she owned was piled up in two uneven stacks. A few selected pieces of clothes and most of her knives were added to her habitually prepared emergency backpack which already held all the necessities including her toiletries and medical kit. Everything else—her linens, spare towels, kitchen tools, and all the other stuff—went into a huge inflammable gunnysack.

  She’d learned early in life not to get too attached to material things. Always to be travel-ready in short time. No strings. No attachments. Nothing to weigh you down, when you had to grab your things in a hurry and leave everything—and everyone—behind. Sometimes it was easier, and sometimes …

  Her eyes lingered on the two books on her couch table, the ones she’d just recently bought at the peddlers’ mark
et. She bit her lip.

  Don’t be stupid, she admonished herself. It was an excessive weight she couldn’t burden herself with. They wouldn’t feed, clothe, or protect her. And who knew when she’d find the time to read in the foreseeable future, anyway.

  In they went into her disposable bag with a thud.

  She pulled off her ripped, bloodstained shirt and jeans and threw them into the gunnysack, too. A quick look at the knife wound told her it wasn’t too serious, especially considering that any normal human being would have died from it by now. The skin around the cut was slightly swollen and blotchy, but she could tell it was already decreasing. She cleaned it with practiced fingers, squeezed generous amounts of iodine onto it and dressed it with an antiseptic gauze pad. There, good as new.

  Then she put on dark cargo pants, boots, and a clean black t-shirt, stashed some knives, shrugged back into her leather jacket, and braided her hair into a functional plait.

  With a damp cloth she started to wipe down all shelves, surfaces, handles, and light switches, using a lot of cleanser to remove all fingerprints and other traces. She was almost done purging the apartment when the bathroom door opened again.

  Wow, what a change! Max grinned at her. He seemed completely comfortable in his loose gray jogging pants, sneakers, and black hoodie, although they were a little big on him. Josy, on the contrary, moved as if she had been stuffed into an itchy potato sack, tugging sourly at the sleeves of her dove-gray turtleneck, whereas the sweater and jeans fit her perfectly. She had released her hair from the disheveled up-do and instead put it into a long ponytail at the back of her head that reached down to her waist. It also gave a good view of the pretty little gems sparkling on her ears, winking at any thieving magpie around the block.

  Alex pointed at them. “Take them off.”

  The girl scowled but obeyed and hid them in her jeans pocket.

  Alex gave them another once-over and nodded. Right. It would do. The clothes couldn’t entirely wipe the “noble” off them, but on first glance, they looked unassuming enough. After all, Alex had no intention of letting anyone close enough to rub their noses at them.

  “Didn’t you want to pack?” Josy was eying her little backpack suspiciously.

  “I did.”

  Her honey-brown eyes widened in disbelief. “That—that is all you’re taking?”

  “I’m used to traveling lightly.” The words came out a lot more easy-going than she felt. She looked down at the shabby old backpack in her hands and felt a stab of pain. Looking at her life, comprised in a sack of dirty old cloth, it suddenly seemed so … shallow. That was her. A nobody. A person with a small backpack, leaving yet another place where she had not been welcome. She should be used to it by now, so why did it always hurt so much? Rachel said it was good to know you still felt something. It reminded you of your humanity. Right now, she would have given her right arm, just for that dull aching to go.

  Shoving those thoughts away, Alex cleaned out the bathroom and collected the children’s clothes, stuffing them into the gunnysack with the rest of her waste.

  “Sorry, but we need to destroy all the evidence.”

  Josy stared at the sack, then at her, and comprehension slowly dawned on her pretty little face. “You’re—you’re gonna destroy all that?”

  Alex frowned with a speck of irritation. “When I told you I couldn’t come back here, it wasn’t just a phrase.”

  Realization seemed to dawn on Josy as she glanced around the emptied apartment as if seeing it for the first time.

  Alex set her backpack down at her feet. Just one last thing to do. She walked over to the narrow stool under the window. Hesitated. Looked at the little plant and felt another stab right in her chest. She knew it was sentimental, but amongst all things, throwing this particular one away felt like throwing away the possibility of a life she couldn’t seem to give up upon no matter how often life taught her better. When she’d bought it, she had actually imagined herself planting it at some point, in real earth, at a place where she’d finally settle down. It was this tiny token of hope. Hope, that she did have a chance of a different life, that—somehow—things could change.

  Alex closed her eyes. Stop being silly, sugar.

  “What’s wrong?” Max was standing beside her, watching her with his head cocked to the side as if trying to decipher what was going on in her head.

  Alex bit her lip, feeling ridiculous for her own sentimentality. Her cheeks burned.

  She sighed. “It’s nothing, really,” she muttered. “It’s just”—she waved her hand at the plant—“I know I cannot take it, but … well, I don’t want to throw it away …” And now seemed like a good moment to shut up before this could get any more embarrassing. They probably thought she had lost her mind. They were running from men who wanted to finish them, and she got all whiny over a little potted plant.

  Josy looked at her, forehead creased in puzzlement.

  “You are worried about this plant?” she clarified.

  Yeah, well rub it in, sugar, why don’t you? As if this wasn’t already embarrassing enough.

  Alex shrugged. “I know it’s stupid.”

  The girl stared at her as if she’d just discovered something deeply unsettling about her. Considering that she already knew her best-guarded secret, this seemed rather troubling.

  Without another word, Josy stalked past Alex and stepped over to the plant. She raised a hand, and an expression of utmost concentration screwed up her face. Alex felt the hair on her body rise, felt her true skin tingle, a moment before a silvery glow sprung from her slim fingertips. It unfurled from Josy’s hand in delicate silver tendrils of fluid light, gently entangling the plant, dancing, curling, spinning. Alex watched in silent awe as the silver magic wove around the plant, forming a sparkling cocoon of light. When she finally let her hand sink, the plant was completely covered in what seemed like a coat of elastic, transparent rubber. The girl inspected her work critically and then picked it up, very gently, as if she was handling something extremely fragile. The roots slipped out of the earth, clean and equally covered in that diaphanous magic tissue.

  Without looking at Alex, Josy held it out to her.

  “This is an organic protective shield,” she explained, as Alex gingerly took it from her and wrapped it in one of her shirts before carefully stowing it away in her backpack. “It will keep it from harm, however, it won’t last long. It should be planted within the next four days or it will likely die.”

  The last words held a hint of sharpness and she shortly glanced up at Alex, as if to make sure they were really understood. Alex nodded, momentarily lost for words. The girl probably had no clue what this meant to her. It might seem like a little thing, a trifle really, but to her … right now it was a dream that had not yet shattered.

  Her eyes grew hot again. She swallowed.

  “Thank you.” Her voice had a hoarse edge to it. She cleared her throat, struggling to retain her composure. “We should go.”

  Crossing the hall in two big strides, Alex pulled the front door open and gestured for the children to follow. Behind each other, the kids stepped past her and descended the ladder with clunking noise.

  Alex held the door and let her eyes sweep through the empty apartment. So, this was goodbye.

  Ah, don’t be melodramatic, sugar. She’d find another place. Always had. After all, it was just walls and a roof.

  Yes, that silky voice whispered, but this time it had also been more … could have been more.

  Yeah, shoulda, coulda, woulda. They all had in common that they weren’t is, are and be. They held no truth or reality, only regrets.

  With one last glance through the too empty apartment, Alex closed the door, knowing she was closing another door in her life forever. The early evening embraced her with deep, stretching shadows as she soundlessly slipped down the ladder and landed on soft feet.

  On the run again. Well, tell me about it!

  CHAPTER NINE

  “ARE we th
ere yet?”

  Alex stopped dead in her tracks and glowered at Max. Really now? That was the third time within the last five minutes—and they had only been on the road for ten minutes in the first place.

  After they’d left her apartment, they’d slunk through the back alleys around Kidney Square, the center of the local hobo scene, until she’d spotted a group of homeless people in patched overcoats rallying around a fire basket that expelled smelly gray smoke into the darkening sky. A unique opportunity. She’d asked the kids to wait around the corner behind a dumpster—Josy had made a point of wrinkling her nose in disgust—and silently stepped into the alley at a leisure pace. The hobos had been rather flabbergasted when suddenly a tall blond woman with a big gunnysack peeled out of the darkness and approached them.

  “Mind if I add some fuel?” she had asked, pointing her chin at the fire.

  They had been too speechless to mind, although they had observed her rather sceptically.

  She’d dumped the gasoline-soaked sack into the fire and watched as the flames promptly soared high up into the sky, sending a whirl of sparks to all sides. She’d stared into the flames, hungrily devouring her offering, watching her life slowly burn in front of her eyes. It wasn’t the first time and sure as hell not the last time, so why did it always feel like part of her was burning with it?

  Soon nothing was left but a heap of smoldering ashes.

  “You know, gal,” one of the hobos, an old man with a brown hunting hat with ear-flaps down over his grizzled hair, had said almost timidly. “S’not safe fer a pretty young flower like yerself to wander ‘round these streets alone in the dark.”

  She had flipped two knives out of her sleeves and held them up for them to see. “Don’t worry, sugar,” she’d told him, “I know how to defend myself.”

  The men had shuffled their feet, looking uneasy from one to another. “That won’t help ye against them beasts, it won’t,” he said.

  “Beasts?” she had asked, making extra-large eyes, although she had a pretty fair idea what beasts they were talking about.