D. MacHale - The Never War

Gulp. I knew the answer to that. We were going to have to accept Rose’s offer. But that meant we would have to meet Winn Farrow and his gang of cutthroats. These were the guys who tried to kill Max Rose. These were the guys who tried to kill us. These were the guys who Saint Dane had taken to the flume and used to kill Uncle Press. As suicidal as this mission was, we had to go.

At least we were getting closer to the truth. I had no doubt in my mind that when we met Winn Farrow and his gang, we’d find Saint Dane. I just hoped we’d stay alive long enough to do something about it.

(CONTINUED)

You’re going to what?” shouted Gunny with horror.

“We’re going to deliver a message from Max Rose to Winn Farrow,” I said.

Spader added, “And that’s going to get us in good with Rose so we can find out about the natty-do he’s cooking up with the Nazi wogglies. It’s perfect.”

“It’snotperfect,” Gunny said nervously as he paced the floor of our hotel room. “First off, you’re not delivering a message, you’re delivering a warning. Winn Farrow doesn’t take kindly to warnings.”

“But we’re just the messengers,” I said.

“That’s even worse, shorty,” Gunny shot back. “He tried to kill Max Rose. Do you think he’d bat an eye over bumping off two messenger kids? No, sir. You boys can’t do this.”

“I hear what you’re saying, Gunny,” I said. “But May sixth is tomorrow! We’re running out of time.”

“This is what we do,” Spader added. “It’s what being a Traveler is all about.”

Gunny stopped pacing and looked at the two of us. Like it or not, what Spader said was true. This was what we were there for. To chicken out and hide wasn’t an option. I wished itwerean option, but it wasn’t.

“Then I’m going with you,” Gunny announced.

“You can’t,” I said. “If something happens to us, you’re the only one who knows what’s going on.”

“He’s right, mate,” Spader said. “You’d have to push on without us.”

This was the last thing Gunny wanted to hear.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Gunny said softly.

It didn’t do much for me, either, but it was the truth. “It’s not going to come to that,” I said with more confidence than I actually felt. “We’re going to go down there, give him the message, and get out.”

“And what happens if you run into Saint Dane?” Gunny asked.

“I’m counting on it,” said Spader with conviction.

I didn’t like the way Spader said that. The simple mention of Saint Dane’s name always cast a dark shadow over his normally bright personality. Our best hope of pulling this off was to keep our heads on straight and be smart. If Spader lost it and went after Saint Dane, well, then Gunny would probably end up being onhis own after all. I couldn’t let that happen, mostly because I didn’t want to end up on the front page of the newspaper under the headline:

TWO BELLBOYSRUBBED OUT INGRISLY MOB SLAYING.

“I’m not going to argue with you anymore,” Gunny finally said, sounding tired. “You boys have had more experience with this Travelerbusiness than I have. But I know about Winn Farrow and how he operates. I promise you, the man isn’t right.”

“We know,” I said. “We’ll be careful.”

I really, really hoped that “careful” was going to cut it. Twenty minutes later we were in a taxicab, headed downtown to meet the infamous Winn Farrow.

I have to admit, I was having second thoughts. What if Winn Farrow was as nutzoid-vicious as everybody said? He might start shooting before we even got in the door. The more I thought about it, the more I worried that we had gotten a little bit too cocky.

Spader must have sensed my tension because he gave me a friendly shove.

“It’s gonna be fine, mate,” he said, actually sounding oddly cheery. “We’re the good guys. We can’t lose.”

I wished that were true.

“Besides,” he added, “nothing’s gonna happen to you so long as I’m around.”

“How do you figure that?” I asked.

Spader didn’t answer right away. I think he was trying to find the right words. When he next spoke, it was with a serious tone I hadn’t often heard from him. I’d seen him blind with rage at Saint Dane. I’d also seen him devastated by the death of his father and the disappearance of his mother. But this was different. This was a thoughtful, sincere side of Spader that I hadn’t known existed.

“I may not know much about being a Traveler,” he said. “But from what I’ve seen, the key to this whole thing is you, Pendragon.”

That took me by surprise. “We’re all in this together,” I said quickly.

“True, but you’re the one keeping us together. I think we’re all playing our parts, but I’ve got no doubt, the most important piece to this natty puzzle is you, mate. If anything happens to you, I’m afraid the show would be over. I won’t let that happen.” I didn’t know how to react. Though I was slowly starting to accept the fact that I was a Traveler, I wasn’t ready to take on the responsibility of being some kind of ringleader. It was tough enough just trying to figure out why I was chosen to be a Traveler in the first place. I didn’t want to be in charge, no way. The thought of it actually made me a little nauseous.

“I appreciate it, Spader,” I said to him. “And I’ll be watching your back too.”

“I know that, mate,” he said.

I wanted this conversation to end. It was freaking me out more than I was freaked out already. Anyhow, the time for talk was over because the cab had screeched to a stop. I looked out the window and saw we were two blocks away from where we told the cab driver to take us.

“We’re not there yet,” I said to him. “We need to go another two blocks west.”

The cabbie turned around and said, “Maybeyougotta go two more blocks, but I sure don’t. Ain’t safe for cabs to go over there. They see us comin’, they think it’s Christmas. I been robbed too many times to go in there again. So whether you like it or not, this is as far as I go.”

He meant it too. I didn’t bother trying to talk him out of it. We got out of the car and paid him. The cabbie then hit the gas and did a quick U-turn with his wheels squealing. He gunned it out of there like he didn’t even like beingcloseto Winn Farrow territory. We watched him for a second as he made his escape, driving right through a red light.

It didn’t help our confidence any.

“Maybe we should rethink this,” Spader said.

“I’m tired of thinking,” I said. “C’mon.”

We started walking west. As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, this was a bad section of town. Gunny told us it was the meat-packing district. Historically this was an area of Manhattan where all the slaughterhouses were. It was made up of big, rambling brick buildings where livestock were killed, cleaned, packed, and shipped. A grisly business by anybody’s standards. Luckily for us, they didn’t do the slaughtering here anymore. The main business was processing and shipping meat. It was a place most people avoided. Can you blame them? It wasn’t exactly a fun spot for a Sunday picnic. I guess that’s why so many criminals made their homes down here. It was the kind of place that even the cops avoided.

Yet here we were, Spader and I, walking right down the street like we belonged there. Believe me, we didn’t. The further west we walked, the more I felt the hot stares of people’s eyes on us. This was the kind of neighborhood where everybody knew everybody else. A stranger stood out like a brilliant light bulb in a dark cave. People watched us from doorways and windows and from passing cars. A few people even whistled. It was their way of taunting us, knowing that we were headed for deep trouble.