by C. G Harris
“Look.” I smiled and tried not to sound like a condescending jerk. “I’m glad you had some luck with one of the local Woebegone, but ...”
“No.” Stray took me by my hand, dragged me inside the shop and threw open the door to the secret store in the back. My mouth gaped. Somehow Stray had managed to almost double my inventory in only one day.
“How ...?” I shook my head and tried to think of something to say but couldn’t. It had taken me a month to build up my meager supplies.
“I met a nice Hellion yesterday before you found me. A crazy Woebegone tried to grab me, and for some reason, the Hellion helped me escape. I ran and didn’t see either one of them again. I guess the demon came back to find me after the storm. He showed up here at the shop after you left.”
“This nice Hellion wasn’t driving a VW Bug, was he?”
One of Strays brows went up. “Ummm, no. He was tall with white hair and red eyes. Super scary, but he acted very kind. Sort of shy, though, like he didn’t want to be seen or something.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I’ll bet he didn’t. So, he gave you all of this? For what?”
“He said he knew something about my situation and that I might be doing things on my own for a while. He said I should try and keep things open while you were gone, and if he ever needed any information, he would consider this a retainer for future services.”
I rubbed my head, wondering how far I would fall through this particular looking glass.
“And the deal you made with Jonny a few minutes ago?”
Stray’s gaze went down to the ground. “He needed a little help. He asked if he could bargain for double the goods if he promised to do twice as much on the next job. I didn’t know him, but he knew quite a bit about you.”
Stray smiled and glanced back up at me. I began to wonder what Jonny told Stray about me.
“He wanted the sodas to trade for a safer place for some friends to live while he rebuilt their shanty. I traded him for the information he had and said we would square up later for the rest.”
Stray seemed on the verge of tears. “I swear I haven’t done that before, and I wouldn’t have agreed this time if it hadn’t been for a good cause.”
I smiled at her. “I think you’re right. You are good at this. I would have done the same thing.”
Stray stood up straight. “Really?” She hopped on her toes and bounded up to give me a peck on my cheek. “Thanks.”
She backed away and leaned on the window with both elbows. “That was for saving me. I don’t know why you did it, but if you hadn’t dragged me in here, I would be dead—or at least suffering in those horrible burning sulfur pools at the Gnashing Fields.”
She looked so young, so innocent and unassuming. I smiled and reached out to touch her face. My finger brushed her lip and both of our smiles fell away.
I dropped my hand and forced my smile to return. “You just needed a little help. Like Jonny, that’s all.”
I stared at her, standing there, so trusting, leaning back in her thin white t-shirt. She had regained her smile as well, but hers was truly jovial, maybe something more. I sighed and shut my eyes, trying to clear my head.
“Listen, Stray. Things are not all peaches and honey out there. Sooner or later someone will try to turn on you. If you aren’t careful, some Woebegone will take you for everything you have, maybe do horrible things to you. And this little shop I have worked so hard for? It will be nothing but a burned-out memory.”
I opened my eyes. Stray’s smile had disappeared again, and her shoulders fell. It felt like looking into the eyes of a child and telling her the boogie man was real. My heart crumbled, and I reached out to touch her arm. “I’m sorry. That may have been a little much, but you have no memories or experience to go on. You are as sweet and kind as they come and down here ... Well, sometimes the Woebegone take advantage of that.”
I rubbed her arm and leaned down a little to peer into her eyes. “I want you to be careful, that’s all. I don’t want you to get hurt. All this,” I waved my free hand around, “all this can be rebuilt or replaced. I didn’t risk the pools to save this shop. I risked a trip to the Sulfur Saunas to save you, and you were worth every burn, bump, and bruise I got doing it.”
Stray regained a little of her smile.
“Except this one.” I pointed to a random spot on my arm.
Stray seemed concerned and leaned in, then she slapped the spot with the palm of her hand. “There, all better.”
My mouth gaped. “Did I say sweet? I meant mean, and cruel, and hurtful ...”
Stray laughed and peered out the window again. “Thanks, Gabe. For everything.”
I smiled and stood beside her taking up a similar pose. “Just buy me a Harley or something, and we’ll call it even.”
Stray laughed again. “You? On a Harley? What about a Honda? Or a tough looking bicycle.”
I clutched my heart and gaped at her. “This is how you show your thanks? By crushing my dreams?”
“I’m sorry.” Stray peaked her eyebrows in a convincing look of concern. “You can still dream of owning a Harley. I just meant you shouldn’t ride one.”
I started to laugh, but she stared at me with an expression of such sincerity that I wondered if she was serious, then she snorted and let me off the hook.
I shook my head and laughed with her. “Cruel and hurtful.”
“Oh, come on, I was kidding,” she said. “You would be great on a Harley. You have a real bad boy thing going.”
Stray pinched her lips into a line until they became white trying not to burst out laughing.
“You aren’t helping,” I said.
We both let out another laugh and resumed our survey out the window.
“So, have you regained any of your memories?”
Some of the pleasantness she wore on her face fell away from her eyes, but she kept her grin. “Not yet. I can’t even remember my real name. I just tell everyone to call me Stray, like you.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll come back. It always does if you give it time.”
I peered through the window at Scrapyard City and watched the Woebegone wraiths wander the catwalks, pathways, and streets. The corrugated steel buildings formed such a patchwork labyrinth it was difficult to tell where pathways started and came to an end. Many led to drop offs or blank stairwells. If you didn’t know the specific combination of paths to take to your destination, you could get lost for hours and never make it to where you were going.
It didn’t help that the steel landscape was ever changing, rebuilt after every firestorm, further confusing the web-work of shelters and shops. Madness chipped away at the mind of every Woebegone, and there were plenty of ways to go mad in The Nine. My secret had always been finding a way to remain discreet, private, and out of the way. A rule I had thrown right out the window over the last day or so. I wondered what had changed, then something caught my eye in an alcove to the right and one level up. The moment I laid eyes on the movement, the Woebegone tried to move back into the shadows, but I already had seen who he was. Blanket-Man. He hid in the dark, watching the shop—watching ... Stray?
“It’s getting late. Why don’t you close up? I’m going to run a quick errand. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Stray shrugged and nodded her head. “Need any help? Closing up’ll only take a second. I can come with you.”
“No, I’ll be fine.” I opened the false panel under the counter and retrieved my Knuckle Stunner, waving it in the air. “I have plenty of backup.”
“All right. Be careful.”
I found it a little funny that she was telling me to be careful.
I left the shop and headed in the opposite direction of Blanket-Man, being careful not to glance in his direction. I thought I had noticed him circling around before Stray and I had gone back into the shop, then on the street when we came out of the back, then in that little hidey hole on the second level across the way. That was too many coincidences.
; I turned a corner to race up a catwalk to the second level, hoping the path would still lead around to the other side of the building. I tried to move quietly, but I didn’t want him to escape either. I took the long way around. If Blanket-Man wandered off before I got there, my little cloak and dagger routine would be for nothing. I kept running, sacrificing stealth for speed.
My rash decision was rewarded with a blast of pain to my midsection. I never was a quick learner. I flew into the air and for the second time that day, I wound up flat on my back, gurgling in pain. A metallic tink, tink, tink passed by my head as Blanket-Man beat a hasty retreat, his blankets flopping behind him like a dirty superhero cape.
Perhaps I got a bit too close after all.
I rolled over and got on all fours. “I am really learning to hate that guy.”
A hand fell on my shoulder, and I spun, knocking it away, aware of my vulnerable position.
“Easy.” The voice came from my left. Jonny stood back with his hands in the air, giving me enough space to stand up and regain my bearings. “I wanted to make sure you’re all right. What are you doing up here?”
I massaged my ribs and stretched my back, popping about a dozen vertebrae back into submission. “Just thought this looked like a comfortable place to take a nap. Did you by any chance get an eye on the freight train that hit me?”
Jonny took a few steps in my direction and put a hand on my shoulder. He was a small and unassuming guy, but smart enough to use that to his advantage. Blending in, going places, and seeing things he shouldn’t was Jonny’s specialty. He was the best guy I knew when it came to investigating those little secrets that were so good for business.
“I didn’t see anyone. Only you crouched there on all fours. You sure you’re all right? You don’t look so hot.”
“I’m fine.” I forced myself to stop clutching my ribs, but I couldn’t help but wince a little when I straightened my arm to drop it back down to my side. “Stray told me you worked out a little deal ...”
“Look, I never meant to take advantage, and they aren’t for me. They’re for someone else.”
I held up a hand to stop his frantic explanation. “Calm down. It’s fine. I thought of a way to make us square, that’s all, but you have to keep it quiet.”
Chapter Fifteen
My trip back to the Agency the next morning was a little better than the trip home. No one threatened to kill me with jagged hunks of metal during my long walk, though I was propositioned with offers ranging from a good time to some pretty imaginative ways of pulling one’s head out of one’s own ass.
This situation had to improve. Even if I earned new digs at the Agency, I would still want to go back and check on Stray at the shop. I made a mental note to find out how Procel scored that old VW. Maybe I could find an old motorcycle or something. Sporting a Harley around Hell wouldn’t be bad for my reputation. Might even be good for business. Right now, I was stuck wearing out my old tennis shoes, hoping I could commute back and forth without losing any major appendages.
I headed up the black stone stairs to building three and noticed two characters exiting the huge mirrored doors. They looked like a trailer park version of Laurel and Hardy. The skinny kid wore a baggy set of olive-green fatigues from the Vietnam era, but managed to disrespect the uniform in every way. The hat faced sideways, the sleeves were pushed up above his elbows and one of his pant legs was bloused up to his knee while the other hung loose over his combat boot. He had one patch sewn onto his sleeve. An American flag on his right shoulder. He had attached it upside down.
His partner didn’t have the same flair for the theatrical. He wore a set of greasy, pinstriped coveralls, but I suspected this was because coveralls were the only thing that would fit his generous proportions. The man had to be over four hundred pounds, though he carried it well. I couldn’t picture him running a marathon, but the man moved with an easy, if not rumbling, grace despite his immense girth.
The duo locked in the moment they laid eyes on me and altered their course to intercept.
Why did this always happen to me? I would try to make nice, and they would tell me how they didn’t like to share their toys. Next thing I know, everyone’s punching me in the face, and I’m getting blamed for the whole thing. It was like grade school all over again, and college, and that time I tried to learn ballroom dancing.
As I got close, Laurel nudged Hardy’s arm, and he gave me a nod. “You the new recruit?”
I smiled and gave him my make nice nod. “I guess that’s me.”
I held out my hand to shake his, but Laurel didn’t even glance down. Not the shaking type at all.
“This is Max, and I’m Jake. We’ve been around here for a long time, so we know how things work. To start, snot nosed recruits don’t talk to senior agents without calling them ‘Sir.’”
“Must be why you’re such a fan of the military.”
Laurel ... err, Jake took a step toward me. “Was that supposed to be some sort of crack?”
I examined the greasy locks of brown hair that spilled out from under his hat. “No…Sir.” I drew out the word a little longer than necessary, and their smug grins disappeared.
“I was wondering, wouldn’t Daddy be upset if he knew you played dress up in his clothes? You should at least get a haircut or wash it—something. Maybe put it up in a man-bun. That would make him real proud.”
Max, the walking earthquake, stepped forward to match his buddy and bumped me with his belly. I tried to stand my ground, but it was like being rebounded off a mail-truck. I fell back a step but managed to halt my forced retreat there.
“I hoped we would have to teach him a few things.” Max had a huge tag sewn onto the chest of his coveralls with his name in oversized letters. His top buttons were undone, making him resemble an auto mechanic that would give Deliverance fans nightmares.
“Teach me what?” I asked. “How to power eat? No thanks. I’m trying to watch my girlish figure.”
Max’s expression twisted into a pudgy-pinched pit of anger. I had pushed the launch button on this freak show duo. This was the part where my face got acquainted with lots of punchy things, but I never backed down from a bully, no matter how many poundings I had to endure. It was all part of my endearing charm.
I slid to the right and stepped up to Max, putting him between me and skinny Jake. I figured he would swing first, then the toothpick would try to flank me, but I was not about to let that happen. I would orbit planet Max as long as I could to keep Jake trapped on the dark side of the moon and the odds more even.
Jake seemed unwilling to retreat down or head up the stairs, so he looked over his partner’s shoulder instead and waited for the show to start.
“Hey.”
None of us were stupid enough to turn toward the voice. The big guy was smarter than I thought. Alex’s blue hair and tattoos entered my peripheral vision, and Max’s expression changed. Not a lot, something around the eyes. I’d made deals in my shop long enough to realize when something tipped the scales in my favor.
“Hi, Alex.” I kept my eyes locked on Max, but I lifted a foot up to the next stair to give me an edge if Mr. Skinny was dumb enough to make a leap for my partner. “I was saying hey to some friends of yours.”
“I don’t make friends with piles of shit.”
So much for sarcastic monologue.
“Beat it.” Alex didn’t stop until her face was inches from Max’s pudgy cheek. “You want to hassle my partner, you can hassle me too. Just don’t forget you won’t heal down here like you do up there.” Alex jabbed a finger into the side of Max’s neck. He refused to turn and face her.
I stood there and tried to seem menacing, but compared to the spit-fueled fury of Alex’s burning stare, I looked like a wide-eyed kitten on the front of a Hallmark card. I continued to menace anyway.
There was a moment of silence, then Jake smacked Max on the shoulder. “Come on. They’re not worth it. We’ll catch ‘em Topside sometime and finish this up there.�
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A bit of Max’s smile returned, though he never unlocked his eyes from mine. “I guess we’ll see you later.”
Jake pulled at Max’s shoulder, eager to make his escape. Max obliged, stepping back without turning away. “Next time, this exchange will be different.”
“Sure was swell to meet you fellas.” I raised my hand and waved goodbye with a finger. “Have your people call my people, and we’ll do lunch, okay?”
Max grinned and flipped me the bird before scurrying away with his little GI rat wannabe.
Alex grabbed my arm and forced it down. “What is wrong with you? Do you have any idea who those guys are?”
My eyebrows twisted, and I stared at her. “How would I know? They came down to hassle me. Maybe they got wind of my rep after our last operation and couldn’t wait to meet me.”
Alex gave me what was becoming her trademark deadpan stare and let go of my arm before heading back up the stairs.
“What?” I yelled a little too loud. “We rocked that mission. Don’t be modest.”
She kept walking, so I jogged up to follow her inside. “Look, I don’t want to sound ungrateful or anything, but why were those guys so scared of you? I mean you have an intimidation factor that would make Mr. T jealous, but that guy could belly-bust a tank. He was ready to throw down until he heard your voice. Then both of them all but peed themselves trying to figure out how to get away without losing every trace of their manhood.”
Alex stopped and peered at me with those piercing hazel eyes. “Let’s just say you’d rather not make me angry down here or anywhere for that matter.”
“But why? Are you some sort of super warrior or something? Do those tattoos represent the political leaders you assassinated? Come on. What is it?”
Alex grinned and patted me on the cheek. “Someday.” Then she walked away.
I badgered her all the way through the loud bustling halls and into the locker rooms, but I didn’t get any other answers. She just wandered along as if she were alone and no one was speaking. I got so desperate for a reaction I considered proposing, but I decided that might make things weird later, what with splitting up the wedding gifts and all.