Jay Posey - Morningside Fall

“I agree,” North said, “If we don’t respond to the attack, it becomes a non-event.”

“Unless she really was sent by someone,” said Connor.

“Then our inaction will speak more powerfully than anything we could do at this point. We will not be terrorized.”

Aron shook his head. “No. We can’t pretend it was nothin’. It’d be pure foolishness.”

“We need to help people adjust,” Wren said. “We need to help them get used to how things are now. It won’t help anybody if you just lock up the compound.”

“It won’t help anybody if you’re dead either,” Hondo said.

Wren’s gaze dropped to the table and he went quiet.

“Whatever else we decide, we need to identify the girl,” Cass said. “Discreetly. What are our options?”

The other Council members all exchanged looks, waiting for someone else to offer an idea or opinion. Finally Rae sat forward. “I’ve got a few connections by the West Wall. I’ll see what I can find.”

“I doubt it’ll be any use, but I can handle the business district,” Hondo said.

“And I’ll talk to the elders,” said Aron. “Most of us are only good for gossip these days anyway; someone’s bound to know somethin’.”

“Secrecy is crucial,” North said. “We shouldn’t ask so many questions that others begin to wonder.”

“Agreed,” Cass said. “Use your judgment, but err on the side of caution. Let’s see what we can find out, and reconvene in two days.”

The Council members agreed and, after a round of formal goodbyes, began excusing themselves. Cass watched them intently as they departed, looking for any final hints or clues as to what any of them might be hiding. But nothing stood out, nothing out of the ordinary. Or rather, so much out of the ordinary that made it difficult to discern motives.

“Mama,” Wren said. “Are you mad at me?”

The question caught her completely off guard. “What? No, baby, why?”

“Because I came to the meeting anyway.”

“No, of course not. I just thought you didn’t want to come.”

“I wish I hadn’t,” Wren replied.

“You did fine, sweetheart. You made some very good points.”

“Then why do I feel like they don’t want me around?”

Cass’s heart sank to hear those words.

“I don’t know, Wren. But we’ll figure it out, OK?” She said it with what she hoped sounded like certainty, knowing that if they didn’t figure it out soon, neither of them would be likely to survive whatever came next.

Fletcher had been the first one to spot the man with the blindfold. He was the smart one, always had been. The one who always noticed things, and thought of things, and made good plans; and that’s why he was in charge. And it was lucky for ol’ Blindfold down there that Fletcher was in charge, else the boys would’ve cut him up and fed most of him to Nice and Lady, and probably ate some of the leftovers themselves. Especially Cup. Cup was crazy.

Nice and Lady was their dogs what they got off a crazy old woman who thought they’d be protection and was wrong, and Fletcher had named ’em because he said that they got ’em from a real nice lady, and the boys thought that was pretty funny, so that’s what they named ’em. Right now, Nice and Lady was somewhere with Sloan being real quiet like good dogs. And they was good dogs. Better than some of the boys, but that wa’n’t much of a compliment when you thought about it.

But Fletcher was in charge, because he was the smart one, and so Blindfold was still warm and breathing for now. At least until Fletcher could figure what they was going to do with him. Killing him and letting the dogs eat good was the easy thing, they done that plenty of times, but Fletcher knew the easy thing usually wa’n’t the best thing. And there was something wa’n’t right about this one, because Blindfold, he was dressed weird in a coat too big and had a blindfold on his eyes, and was just kneeling down there in the street like that for an hour or more. That’s how Blindfold was when Fletcher saw him, and that’s how he was right now, and it been an hour or more. So Fletcher knew he just had to figure what to do with him.

“Heya, Fletcher,” Mull whispered. Mull was a good one of the boys, real quick with the jittergun, like magic-trick quick, but he wasn’t real smart.

“Shhh,” Fletcher said.

“Yeah, but — Fletcher. You figure what we gonna do yet? I gotta leak.”

“Well, go on,” Fletcher whispered back. “I ain’t stoppin’ ya. Just do it quiet.”

“Why’s he just sittin’ there like that, Fletcher?”

“Because somethin’ ain’t right with him, Mull.”

“You mean like he’s dead or somethin’?”

“Yeah, Mull, I been sittin’ here lookin’ at a dead man for a hour. Go take your leak before ya wet us both.” Mull grunted and started off to another corner of the roof. “And do it quiet!”

Fletcher took another look around, looking for something he hadn’t seen yet, something Blindfold might be counting on or waiting for. But it all looked like everything else. Broke down buildings and roofs that all fell in and garbage in the street. He looked back down again, down at Blindfold, and he was still just setting there, on his knees all weird, not moving or nothing. Fletcher looked at the sky. Couldn’t be more than another half-hour before the sun go down and the howlies come out, and it’d take a good ten minutes or so to take care of Blindfold and get him packed up and maybe another fifteen to get back inside and locked up. Fletcher looked back at Blindfold again.

Guess they’d have to do the easy way after all.

“Mull,” he whispered across the roof. Mull was zipping up and he looked over, and Fletcher motioned with his hands to get down off the roof and around back to where the boys was waiting. Mull nodded, and they both went down the back where an old ladder was only half hung on, but they climbed down easy because they was both pretty good on their feet.

When they got to the bottom, Creed and Yeager was sitting around leaning against the wall and doing the things they did when they was bored; and Mags he was sleeping; and Cup, well, Cup was just setting there facing the wall — staring at it like he could make it fall down just staring at it — and if anyone could it was probably him. Cup was crazy.

“Hey, Fletcher, what’s the plan?” Creed said, and he stood up and stretched, like he was ready to do some work.

“Where’s Sloan at?” Fletcher asked.

“Around the other building with Nice and Lady.”

“OK. Here’s the plan,” Fletcher said, then noticed Mags was still sleeping. “Wake Mags up.”

Yeager kicked Mags pretty good, and Mags woke up mad and Creed laughed a little.

“Come on, Mags,” Fletcher said, “we gotta do some work.”

“What’s the plan?” Mags asked, sitting up and rubbing his ribs where Yeager’d kicked him.

“Creed, you and Yeager, you’re gonna go round to where Sloan is, and then you boys get Nice and Lady and come up behind him. Then me and Cup and Mull and Mags, we’re gonna come up in front of him.”

“OK,” Creed said. “And then what?”

“Then I’m gonna ask him some questions.”

“OK. And then what?” Creed repeated.

“Well, then I reckon we kill him.”

“OK.”

“OK,” Fletcher said.

“OK,” Creed said, and then he and Yeager went off to find Sloan and the dogs.

“Cup,” Fletcher said. “You get that?”

For a second, Cup didn’t do nothing, then all sudden-like he just sits up and headbutts the wall, and he sits back with a big smile — with blood coming down between his eyes — and then gets up and starts walking. Cup was crazy.