James Baldwin - Stained Glass

“The short version is that they refuse to accept that anything you and Jen saw, heard or found at your place is real, because it means that Lily and Dru weren’t the innocent lambs everyone thought they were,” Mason rasped. His heavy face was oddly reptilian, cold and dangerous. “They won’t accept the word of another Elder, let alone me, you, Duke or Zane, and they won’t accept the evidence we gave them.”

“They want a scapegoat,” I said. “She tried to make an arrest. I doubt I can help you more than I already have.”

“By herself?” Zane blinked. “Did you tell her to piss off?”

“Jenner and Mason helped me, for which I am grateful.” I inclined my head to them.

“So what now?” Duke asked. He had plopped down onto one of the bean-bags, his lean face drawn and sober.

“John and Michael can have their circle-jerk. We’re taking this on whether they like it or not.” Mason shook his head.

“Exactly,” Jenner said. “If we want to get to the bottom of everything, we’re going to have to do it ourselves. We’ve got something to go on, now. We know the Russian Mob is involved. We know Lily and Dru might have been up to shit involving them, so there’s a good chance that the Mob has the kids. You got other people you think we could wring for info, Rex?”

“Absolutely,” I replied. “In addition to that, I remember that Lily and Dru have a retreat in the forest. Do you know what that was used for?”

“It’s a changing ground. Territory staked out for hunting away from civilization. A place to teach the kids to change without people hanging around,” Jenner said.

“That’s where they said the first spook disappeared,” Zane said. “Maybe whoever hit Wolf Grove was camping in the cabin when he went there.”

“Maybe.” Mason rubbed his jaw, thick with graying stubble. “First things first. I want to talk to the Pathrunners alone, Jen. They need to know what we found. Michael looked like he was willing to listen to it if it comes from either of us.”

“Did Lily or Dru answer to him?” I asked.

“Sort of. The Pathrunners are pretty secretive. Loners, you know.” Jenner jerked her shoulders, relaxing under Mason’s hand. “Michael is the ‘leader’ of the New York assembly, but he’s more like a spiritual leader than a leader-leader. Anyone who carries the Pathrunner name has to pass all these trials and tests, have a pretty rote understanding of the Laws and Weeder history, and be able to rule by them.”

“I see. And how do the Twin Tigers relate?”

Jenner thoughtfully chewed her nail, which was already bitten down to the quick. “We’re really a totally separate group. Traditionalists, funnily enough. In every century but this one, Weeders formed like-minded packs and small militias under the Ib-Int, with Elders and lawkeepers passing on the basic traditions and laws. All of the groups get together in a type of tribal council once a year to exchange news and business. This whole factional thing is pretty new. I think John has a Batman complex.”

“Nah, man. X-men,” Duke said. “He totally thinks he’s Professor X.”

“I see. He and Michael articulated the origins of shapeshifters somewhat,” I said. “And your purpose.”

“I’m sure he missed the most important part: the part where the preds have been doing the fighting and the dying for years, while the prey animals try to integrate themselves with a sick society. Every city in this country is full of pedos, demons, psychos, freaks.” Jenner leaned forwards, wiry and intense in her t-shirt and jeans. “The Four Fires fancy themselves to be like army officers, you know – all learned and tactical. I can tell you now, it doesn’t mean shit to the Big Black Nothing. You dig it out as you find it and you fucking kill it. That’s the only thing that works.”

“We’re neck deep in the Third War,” Mason added. “John says he used to be in the Navy way back when, around about the time that me and Jen were in ‘Nam. He’s planning a Naval battle… he sees a board with a bunch of positions written on it. I see a jungle full of mines and foxholes. The Third War is a guerilla war, and he doesn’t get that you can’t just wait for the Devil to show itself.”

“‘Says’ he used to be in the Navy? You sound skeptical.” I cocked my head.

“I was in the Marines: Combat Assault Battalion. He claims he was in Operation Game Warden, but none of my old Navy buddies remember him,” Mason said, shrugging. “Far as I know, me and Jenner were one of maybe five or six Weeders in that war. Doesn’t mean I don’t believe him, because he’s got the medals to show for it. Still don’t mean shit to me unless someone remembers you sticking your neck out for them.”

That made plenty of sense to me. Backing up your people in a crisis was something I understood. I spread my hands. “You came out for me back there, and I’m willing to help you find your children. I can keep looking into the occult angle, but I have a couple of things I want to chase up. Pastor Aaron is of the same denomination as Lily and Dru, correct?”

“Yeah,” Mason grunted.

“If he could arrange a meeting with the local leader of their church, I’d be interested to talk to him,” I said. “Given how much the Vigiles have already missed, I might learn something from him that they didn’t.”

“We can do that,” Jenner said. “He doesn’t have to know that Ayashe’s on the warpath. I think we should go check out the forest cabin. Aaron probably knows where to find it.”

“Did the Vidge go through the place?” Zane’s brow furrowed in thought.

“Don’t think so,” Mason said. “Michael won’t tell anyone except that one guy. He disappeared, so now it’s even more secret Pathrunner business.”

“The other thing I want to do is talk to some of my contacts… one in particular may be able to turn up some useful information.” I let Binah down to the floor. “He costs money, but now that I have money, I’m willing to front.”

“If he knows something, we’ll pay half.” Mason didn’t even bat an eye. Instead, he clapped his hands on his knees and stood. “We’ll handle the phone calls. You guys get some rest and some chow. We’ll deal with this later in the day.”

I hadn’t realized just how tired I was until I was in the bedroom and away from other people. I didn’t even undress: just sunk down onto the thin mattress, rolled onto my side, and passed out.

Shouting broke through the fugue of sleep after what felt like minutes, shaking me from a vague dream where I was looking into a pit at the upturned faces of tens of children… children missing their eyes, faces blank and bloody. I rolled to the side and clapped my hand down on my knife, bringing it up as I swung my stiff legs around and got to my feet. For several thick moments, there was no sound other than my constricted heartbeat rattling against my ribs. Then I heard something again… the dull rapport of a slamming door.

“—so many better things to do than be arguing about some boxes, okay? I don’t care what you think. Throw them out on the damn street, and I’ll pick them up. Look… no… I’m getting my shit back and there’s nothing you do about it. Yeah, no, you don’t get to say who I do and don’t bring. I don’t care. I stopped caring when you threw me out of your fucking apartment after screwing around on me while I was fighting for my life in the goddamn desert…”

Zane on the phone again. Groggy and mealy mouthed, I lay back down and listened in the dark as his one-sided conversation trailed down the hallway away from me.

The lack of external stimulation in the dark made me unpleasantly aware of the parasite wrapped around and through my chest. I had to lift my legs to the floor, and then heave myself upright, leaden, to reach the bathroom and shower. Binah followed me like a ghost, napped on my towel while I cleaned up, and was disgruntled when I turfed her to the floor.