Chapter 14

“Manners weld mettle and morals.”

 

Dan climbed the rusty fire escape up the First House of the Old Lord, where Andrew had decided the men would sleep—he’d also decided that Dan would stay up and watch the streets for the first four hours. Of course, Dan had acquainted himself with the night shift enough to get on a first-name basis. Thirty years ago, he’d balanced school with two or three jobs at once, just to keep Mother and himself fed; late hours fit that schedule best. He worked mostly as a janitor, but he’d done everything. Retail, homemaking, construction—hell, he’d even worked as a bartender once. Even though those long nights birthed the aches and scars he still bore every day, money was money. So, no matter how much smoke he inhaled, no matter how many times he caught his fingers with a nail-gun, no matter how many angry customers screamed in his face, and no matter how many old men he watched waste away on the other side of that bar, he clocked in and he clocked out.

He was starting to wonder why he ever bothered.

As he sat there in the center of the gravel atop the First House, just in front of Andrew’s makeshift bed of clothes, Dan’s eyes started to close. But he caught himself and jumped to his feet. Pacing an endless circuit around the roof, Dan shivered as the air began to chill. He just focused on getting from one corner to the next without falling asleep. And the only other thing he did was stare. Stare at the lifeless endelwood behind him. Stare at the barren mountain to the left. Stare at the dead skyline of OldMouth Bay, which he could barely glimpse through the thin tree line between the road and the cliffside.

His watch read 12:33. They’d laid down at 11:00, and they’d wake at 7:00. Two hours and twenty-seven minutes left in his shift. His steps dragged more than ever. Somewhere, hiding in one of those buildings down below, something shifted. Mother chuckled to herself, and Dan stopped. He cleared his throat, shook his head, and continued pacing. She couldn’t hurt him. She wouldn’t. He paid the shadow-things no mind. Hunger did strange things. Perhaps that old sandwich had come back to haunt him. Yes—that would be it. A bit of old bologna. Indigestion. Anything.

In a pale effort to entertain himself, he gazed up and tried to spot the planets. But that was never his hobby—no, it was hers. Back when Father still had a job, when Dan couldn’t peek over the table even on his tiptoes, Mother liked to take Dan out camping every year. They had a little telescope, and she always told him to look through and find something nobody had ever seen. Aliens, or spaceships, or planets hidden in the Rings.

Dan took a sharp breath. Why was he thinking about that? He didn’t need to. It had ended years ago. Best for the past to stay far away. Mother was probably dead now, anyway. Definitely dead now.

Click-clack.

Footsteps. They echoed up from the street. Dan froze, shrunk down to his toes, and lay still on the roof. Mother cackled again, louder than ever. He couldn’t tell if she’d made the footsteps, or if something else had. Something real. That thought terrified him.

One after another, the steps crept down the street, down, down, the same way the men had come. As the steps drew closer, the wind carried the stranger’s faint breaths around the steeple, right into Dan’s ears and down his throat. Dan crawled, slow as the current in a pond, to the corner where Andrew slept. For a moment, Dan stayed still, wondering if he should even bother waking him up. What would Andrew say if it was just his imagination? He shook his head and reached over. A few shakes made Andrew’s eyes flutter open. The financier groaned, only to find the palm of Dan’s hand over his mouth. His eyes shot open, and he struggled to tear Dan’s arm away. But when he caught Dan’s eyes, he calmed down.

Dan lifted his hand off and put his finger to his lips. When the next steps clacked across the blacktop, Andrew reacted to them. For a moment, Dan felt a twinge of pride, but it didn’t take long for him to remember that if the threat was real, well, the threat was real. Something was down there, waiting—perhaps just as frightened as the men were. But terror reforged people. He shrank further into the gravel as the footsteps rose louder and louder, shifting rubble and cracking glass. When the steps reached the church, they stopped. The stranger stood below. Still and quiet. Dan waited for the next steps, his heart beating like window-shutters in a storm—but the stranger didn’t move.

Buried in the gravel, Dan’s arm began to ache. He’d collapsed in an awkward position, with one arm beneath his chest and the other splayed out to the side. The rocks dug into his flesh, and they’d keep digging as long as the stranger stayed there.

Something shifted.

“Wait!” a man’s voice said from the distance. “No, no, it’s okay! I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Dan’s stomach twisted sideways and flipped upside-down.

“Then put the gun down,” a woman said, much closer than the man—right at the base of the church. “Come on,” she said with a quivering voice. “Put it down. Right now.”

Andrew peered up at Dan. He motioned down with his eyes, but Dan didn’t understand. The financier gritted his teeth and continued laying back.

“Look, look, that’s not gonna help, okay?” the man said. “We’ve both got guns, and I can’t let you start robbing me, aye?” The woman didn’t respond. “Here—I’m Aleki. What’s your name?”

The air went stale after a long pause. Just at the point when Dan thought they’d both scuttled off, the woman spoke again. “Pam. I’m—no! Don’t move! Don’t move, just stay right there.”

“I’m not moving,” the man said.

“Don’t you lie to me, alright? Don’t fuck with me! I didn’t walk ten hours to die here, you prick.”

“Aye, ma’am, it’s fine. Look, I’m not moving.”

The sound of Dan’s heart seemed to echo off the rooftops. He felt them hear it. They had to have heard it by now. It was so loud. How could they miss it?

The woman stomped on the ground. “Just put the gun down already!” she said.

“I’m not pointing it, I’ve just got it, okay? Look, Pam, I’ve got kids. I’m not looking for trouble, I’m looking for food. Please, I’m not doing anything. Please—why don’t you put your gun down?”

“No.”

“Well, there you go,” the man said, his teeth audibly gritted. “Why should I put mine down if you won’t? We can’t just stand here forever, okay?” A step echoed through the street.

“I said don’t fucking move!”

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Dan closed his eyes.

“Okay, okay, here,” the man said. “I’ll take a step to my right; you take a step to yours. We’re both going the opposite way, aye? Let’s go together. On three, okay?”

The woman remained silent for a moment. “Okay, you count.”

“Alright. One—two—”

Crack.

The sound pierced Dan’s ears like a cold dagger. He yelped, jerked himself up.

The woman screamed, panic and rage warping her voice.

Crack.

A louder shot careened through the air.

Crack.

Crack.

Silence.

Then, the woman sniffled. “What—what the fuck did you think was gonna happen?” the woman said. “Don’t fuck with me!”

Crack.

Crack.

“You—” The woman’s voice cracked, warbling and fading. “Don’t fuck with me! Don’t—I told you! I told you!”

Crack.

That last shot echoed, faded. All Dan could hear were the woman’s faint sobs.

He winced at the bitter tears salting his cheek, dribbling down the stubble on his chin.

Gritting his teeth, he breathed shakily. She might not have shot first, but—but she’d just killed someone. Even if he was in the wrong, he didn’t deserve to die. He had kids. Maybe she could have—Dan didn’t know, but she could have done something differently. Made a better effort, or something, right?

Sounds of rummaging echoed from below. Zippers, Velcro straps, and buttons popped, stretched, and whirred. Killing the man wasn’t enough, of course. She had to defile his corpse as well.

All that, and she was still crying. How sorry she must have been. A man was dead, but it was fine, because she was sorry. In a few hours, she might even feel justified. Why not? Hell, nobody could tell her off. God knows she hadn’t flinched in killing once, what would hold her back from popping another bastard off? Just another trigger to squeeze. Just another body.

After a while, the sounds fell quiet, and her footsteps faded away, echoing back down the same path she’d come from.

She was gone, and only the rattling of branches remained.

 

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