Chapter 6: Chapter 6: The Crew

“Pst,” Chleo whispered through the cracked door. “Hi, Minnie.”  The smells of the kitchen wafted into the cramped alley behind Joe’s.  Twilight was falling, stretching nearby shadows longer.

“Well, I never.” Minnie gasped in surprise, her hand jumping to her heart.  She bustled over. “You two gave me a fright, you did.”

She ushered them inside. Sticking her head out, she checked the alley making sure no one saw before snapping the door shut.

“Look at you,” she said to Chleo, reaching up to wipe some dirt off her cheek. “You’d make a right young lady if you gave it half a try.  You know my offer’s still good if you ever need some extra coin.  My girls work hard, but it’s all honest, dear.”

“I know, Minnie.” Chleo smiled, leaning into her hand. “You know me.  I’d rather disappear under a pile of motors and metal than wait on those scoundrels.” She gave a good natured nod toward the door to the bar.

Minnie barked a laugh, rushing to the stove to fill a mug with stew.  “True enough, I don’t know how your mama does it. Well,” she said, hustling toward the bar, “you keep it in mind.  There’s some bread on the counter for you.  ‘May be some moldy bits, but they tear off just fine.” She pressed her hip to the door. “Stay out of the stew, don’t rightly know what Joe threw in it this week, and stick to the second floor unless you’re buyin’ or workin’.”  

She sent them one last affectionate smile before disappearing into the Pub’s roar.  The door swung shut and the crowd muted again.

Grinning, they raced to the stairs, Chleo grabbing the loaf of bread on the way.  She stuffed it in her coat as they climbed to the second floor.  Plopping down by the railing, they had a great view of the main gallery and—more importantly—the Boca Run table.

Will nudged her shoulder and pointed toward the bar.  Minnie pushed a flagon toward a hooded patron, a saucy smirk playing on her lips.  He leaned over to whisper in her ear, sliding two coins across the counter.  She giggled and slipped them into her brassiere.

“Minnie strikes again.” Will laughed.

“Two whole coins?” Chleo shook her head with a smirk.  “Poor sod never had a chance, and what’s with the hood?”

Will shrugged losing interest.  

“Sharpman’s here,” he said nodding toward the Boca Run game.

“Maybe there’ll be a fight.” Chleo smiled at the thought.  They hadn’t seen a good brawl in ages.

“Doubt it.  They all look fresh.  Unless one of the regulars stops in he’ll probably make it through the night.”

“I don’t understand how no one notices.  He’s so obvious,” Chleo said as Sharpman slipped a card behind his back and swapped it using a hidden pocket.  A few minutes later the table erupted in groans as he won another pot.

Minnie looked over with a frown before rushing off to clean up a spill.  Her barmaids worked the crowd, squeezing tips where they could and keeping mugs full.  They navigated the tables and bar like sailors in a storm flung from one to the next never having a moment to rest.  It was a good night for them.

The pub was full almost to standing room only.  Chairs scattered the floor as customers tried to squeeze oversized groups in too little space.  The gas lamps highlighted the brick walls, simple landscapes dotted across in an attempt to scale up the place.

Chleo and Will passed the time guessing who would be the first to notice Sharpman’s unprecedented lucky streak had more to with an abundance of cards than chance.

“It’s got to be the pipe guy,” Chleo insisted. “He has the angle.  If he would just look.”

“No way, it’ll be the beard and mustache man.  He’s already suspicious.”

Chleo shook her head in denial and laughed, scanning the crowd for something interesting.  Her eye caught the hooded patron from earlier and stuck.  He sat at the corner table with two others, their heads bent in conversation. Her brow furrowed.

She tapped Will, forgetting the game for a moment.  

“Does that look strange to you?” she asked nodding in their direction. Will followed her gaze.

“What’s with the hoods?” he asked.

“And their clothes,” she added.  Their jackets weren’t made from any of the usual cloths.  In fact, they looked more like the material used for the pilots hats she’d found buried in her parents’ drawers.  She glanced at the one Will was wearing.  Definitely the same.

“New relo’s?” she asked.

“Could be.” He didn’t sound convinced.

They studied the small group.  The one Minnie chatted up earlier was easy to pick out.  He was, by far, the largest, his muscles bulging at every move.  Whatever their jackets were made of groaned against his size.  The seams looked ready to pop at any moment.

A smaller figure sat opposite him, jacket zipper resting low enough to be confused with a barmaid’s, the only girl there other than Chleo not earning coin or wearing a dress. Occasionally, she would lift a delicate hand to enforce her point.  To Chleo’s surprise, both of the woman’s companions seemed happy to let her lead the conversation at points, never once talking over or dismissing her.  It wasn’t something she was used to seeing outside her own family… or Will, of course.

The last figure sat in the corner, leaning his chair back as he rocked on two legs.  He seemed interested in what his friends had to say, but only added to the conversation when it was necessary.  His eyes never stopped shifting across the pub. There was a predatory quality to him, waiting, watching for danger.

As they watched, Muscles grew agitated.  Whatever they were discussing, he was not happy.  The other two seemed unfazed, if not amused. Apparently fed up, he stood, said something to the table, and headed for the door.  Shooting one last glare at his companions, he paused by the Boca Run table.  He leaned down and whispered something in Beard and Mustache Man’s ear before stomping away and out the front door.

There was a pause at the table as the participants watched their opponent sputter. His face darkened to a dangerous scarlet. 

Their sudden silence spread across the pub.  Everything froze.  Minnie looked resigned.

“Cheater!”  Beard and Mustache yelled loud enough to reach the balcony.

Fists started flying not long after.

~*~*~*~

The first real punch landed when Will felt a tug on his shoulder.  He glanced up not wanting to miss the action.

Chleo stood motioning her head toward the door.

“But,” he said over the sounds of crashes, breaks, and fleshy groans roaring from below, casting a melancholic look back down into the gallery, “fight.”

She pulled on his sleeve again, not even attempting to talk over the disaster below.  He took another stubborn second to watch Minnie poke someone with her Timekeepers watch, one of Mrs. Mathews’ more dangerous Twists.  She wanted to make sure Minnie had a backup plan if her usual strategies for unruly patrons didn’t work.  Seconds later, the poor sod collapsed.  He sent Minnie a mental high-five before trailing after Chleo, disappointment in every step.

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They made it into the stairwell.

“What was that, Chleo?” he demanded. “We’ve been waiting to see a brawl like that for ages.”

They entered the kitchen.  The door swung open as a dazed man fell through.  They paused.  He took a few seconds to regain his feet, grabbing the counter as his legs wobbled.  Taking a breath, he straightened and charged back into the fray.

Will caught Chleo’s longing glance.  She wanted to watch as much as he did, so why were they leaving?

“I want to know who the hoods are.  I thought maybe if we followed one…” She let the sentence hang as she started for the alley.

He shot one last look at the kitchen door before following her outside. 

~*~*~*~

“Let me get this straight,” Chleo heard Will grumble beside her. “A fight breaks out.  Noses are breaking, stools are smashing.” She watched him stare from the corner of her eye.

“Sure,” she said.

“And instead of watching.  Instead of picking our winners and collecting all associated bragging rights.”

“Mhm,” she made a noise to show she was listening.

“We decided to follow this guy… and watch him talk to a wall.” Will was pouting.  Worse than that, Will was pouting with a point.

“Shh, I’m trying to listen,” Chleo hissed, trying to ignore the fact that she was the reason they were missing such a rare source of entertainment.

“Mic, come in,” Muscles growled at the wall, his hood not quite hiding his scowl. It was the same sentence over and over.  He would check for witnesses, say it, wait a few minutes, and repeat, each time growing more frustrated.

“Does he expect it to answer back?” Will asked, moving to get a better look through a crack.  They were crouched behind a crate pile in a side alley.  The street lamps cast everything in a warm glow giving them the extra protection of deep shadows.

“Maybe,” Chleo shrugged, at a loss. “What did Minnie put in his drink?”

Will suppressed a laugh behind a knuckle. Light filtered through the crate’s slits streaking his skin.  He stole another peak at the stranger.

“Five more minutes,” he said. “We’ll give it five more minutes, then we’re heading back.  We still might be able to catch the last of it.”

“Fine,” Chleo agreed.  Will pulled his watch from his pocket and settled back, no longer looking interested in the louse talking to inanimate objects.  Chleo shook her head.  Did he really have to time it?

“Mic. Come. In,” the man ground out.  Chleo rolled her eyes.  Maybe they should just head back now.

Something crackled, then another voice filled the alley.  

“Merk?  Merk, come in.  Can you hear me?” It sounded frantic.

Chleo chanced a look around the crates.  Muscles was still facing the wall arms crossed, glaring a hole through the brick.  He was alone.

She pulled back shooting Will a confused look.

“Yeah, I hear you,” Muscles replied. “Why didn’t you just use the comm?  You know, I’ve been talking to a wall for the last-”

“Merk, shove it.  We don’t have time for this.  Is Eelock with you?” The phantom voice interrupted.

Muscles’, or she supposed Merk’s, tone switched.  Frustration and anger were replaced with a deadly calm. “No, I left him and Dai in the Pub for the meet.  What is it?”

“They took her,” the voice, Mic, sounded devastated.  Chleo and Will exchanged a look crouching deeper in the shadows.

“Who Mic?”

“The passenger,” the voice sounded strained. “It was…  Lux, why didn’t Eelock tell us,” he cursed.  “It was Melody.”

“They poached Melody?”

Chleo felt like she’d been punched.  Will’s hand found its place on her shoulder.  He pulled her close.  Who were these people?

“It might not be her,” he whispered by her ear.  His breath tickled her temple.

He was right.  He had to be right.  It was probably someone with the same name.  They just saw her at Timekeepers.  Her mom was fine.

Merk’s calm evaporated.  A violent energy buzzed in the air. “Where did they go?”

“Don’t know.” Mic sounded like he was trying to fight the panic and control his voice. “They just ghosted and launched.”

“Fine.  Wait there.  Get things ready.  I’ll grab Eelock and Dai, meet or not, we’re coming to you.”

Will was already pulling Chleo out of the alley by the time Merk finished his sentence.  She followed him in a daze, trusting him to lead.  Her mom would be at the counter working late, fiddling with something she refused to put off until tomorrow.  She had to be.

Cobbled streets and bricked buildings passed in a blur.  It was a comfort when the wooden sign finally came into view.  Chleo stared at the delicate calligraphy stamping out Timekeepers.  She would be there.

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