Jay Posey - Three

“Hey, Jantz. I’m sorry, kid. Wrap it up tight, you’ll be OK.” She tapped Tyke on the head with the jittergun, and then slid it into her pocket. “You stay clear of the Bonefolder.”

Cass walked to the eastern entrance, and didn’t look back. Once she’d crossed through the outer edge of Downtown, she turned down a narrow alley, dropped to a knee, and vomited.

Three had led for most of the way back, but Twitch had covered the last hundred meters faster than Three had ever seen anyone move. He crashed through the front door of the Samurai McGann, and Three was only a few steps behind.

“Mol!” he shouted, “Where’s Mol!”

The bartender leapt over the bar and intercepted him before he could get too far, grabbed him by the shoulders, held him fast.

“Twitch!” the bartender tried to get his attention. “Twitch!”

“Mol! Mol, baby, where are you?”

“Twitch, hold on now, hold on!” said the bartender, but jCharles wasn’t having any of it. He lifted the man bodily and threw him into the bar, and raced towards the stairs.

Three followed closely behind, certain his heart had stopped in his chest. Halfway up the stairs the door swung open, and Mol stood there looking terrified. jCharles swept her up in his arms so violently, they both nearly toppled into the room.

“Twitch?! Twitch, what happened, are you alright?”

“Mol, baby, are you OK? Where’s the kid?”

She was pale with fright, confused.

“Wren? Wren’s right here. Wren, come here, sweetheart.”

Wren poked his head out from the back room, wild-eyed and clearly confused.

“Twitch, calm down, what is going on?”

Three stood at the door, scanning the apartment. No signs of a struggle. Everything seemed as they’d left it.

A commotion sounded on the stairwell, and without hesitation, Three drew and was on target in less than a blink. The poor bartender nearly fell back down the stairs.

“Nimble! What’s going on!?” jCharles yelled from the top of the stairs.

Nimble, the bartender, crept up the stairs almost apologetically. “That’s what I try’a tell ya, Twitch. Got some down here for you see.”

Three reholstered, straightened up. jCharles went back and hugged Mol.

“You sure you’re OK, baby?”

“We’re fine. We’re completely fine. What happened, Twitch?”

He kissed her hard on the mouth, then on the forehead, then left her in the room. Nimble led them back downstairs, down the length of the bar, and around the corner to a large end booth. Two rough-looking gentlemen sat shoulder-to-shoulder next to each other, surrounded by seven much rougher-looking gentlemen. Three recognized the seven as regulars.

“These ones here,” said Nimble, wagging a finger at the two men pressed in the middle of the booth. “Come run in ask about Miss Mol, say the Bonefolder needs talk to her. I tell ’em get faffed.”

“Faff off, ye!” one of the regulars shouted, for no apparent reason.

“And ’ems start get rowdy. Actin’ for show, y’know. And ol’ Nimble say nay go round here, no sir.” He looked at the two men for emphasis. “NAY. GO. ROUND HERE.”

Twitch let out a laugh then, a genuine laugh of relief and joy. He slapped Nimble hard on the back, leaned his forehead into his bartender’s in some version of a hug. Started handing out backpats to the regular seven.

“Well thank you, Nimble. This is why I let you run the place. You take better care of it than I do. Open the bar up for everybody.”

“And about ’em?”

Twitch thought about it for about two seconds.

“Strip ’em. Tie their arms around each other. Let ’em walk back to Bonefolder.”

“Aright then.”

“Make sure they’re facing each other. And tie ’em tight.”

“A course, sir.”

Twitch led Three back to the main room, where the bar seemed to be carrying on as usual.

“Good people, Twitch.”

“You gotta have a few, Three. What now?”

“I gotta go find my girl.”

“Let me tell Mol—”

“No, you stay.”

“We’re not doing this again, Three.”

“Good reason this time. They might try again, I’d feel better if you stayed. I’ll move faster without you.”

“Alright, I’ll buy that this time. But if they’ve got her, don’t you go in there on your own. You come right back here, and we’ll get my boys up a right proper army, you understand?”

“Fine. I’m gone.”

“Godspeed, brother.”

Three turned and strode to the door, half a catastrophe averted, the other half unknown. He reached for the door, and it flew open, catching him in the chin and forehead. He saw stars.

And then, he saw her.

Cass. Alive and well. Carrying a case and a backpack.

He grabbed her and pulled her in, holding her as tight as he could, wishing he could bring her even closer.

“Three?”

He pulled away, looked her over. “Are you alright, Cass? Did you have any trouble?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment, shook her head.

“No. No trouble. You?”

“Maybe.”

“Is Wren OK?”

“Yeah, he’s upstairs. You get everything you need?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“Good. Cause we’re gonna have to move again. Now.”

“Like, right now?”

Three nodded. Brain already racing to do the calculations. They were going to have to disappear, fast. Train was out, no doubt about that. Only a few hours of daylight left. Not enough to go far. But there was no way they could stay in Greenstone now.

And what about Mol and Twitch?

“Come on,” Three said. “Let’s get upstairs. We gotta get this sorted out.”

He slipped his hand along the small of Cass’s back, and steered her through the bar, up the stairs, into the apartment. And as he watched Cass drop to a knee and Wren run into her arms, Three knew, and let himself know, that he loved them both in a way he’d never thought possible.

The apartment was a whirlwind; explanations colliding with improvised plans and haphazard packing. Mol was busy in the kitchen, preparing some fragrant dish that Cass thought couldn’t possibly be finished before they had to leave.

“You just left? They just let you walk right out the front door?” Cass demanded.

jCharles threw a bundle of chemlights across the room to Three, and chuckled. “Shoulda seen the look on that old crow’s face when you turned around. I think she got stuck trying to calculate the odds of you actually doing what you were doing.”

“Any more time we spent in there was time we weren’t usin’ to get to you. The drop? They let you keep the money for charity?”

“It was recommended I take both.”

“Recommended? You still got any of that goo?” Three asked Twitch, mid-sentence, then switched back. “This is serious Cass, how many were there, how many did you leave, and in what state?”

She flipped through the high-def images in her mind, like a reel of still frames, perfectly preserved. Even the pattern the blood-spit spray made out of the Limper’s mouth when his head hit the table.

“Seven total. Two dead, one stunned, two unconscious, one crying, one screaming.”

jCharles shot her a concerned look.

“Tyke crying, Jantz the screamer. I took a little meat out of his leg, but he’ll be fine. They’re both alright. Big fans of yours, too, by the way.”

He nodded, but didn’t smile. “I’d heard. Here,” he threw three packets from the storage room over to Three. “Probably tastes terrible by now, but it should still get you there. Four ounces, three times a day.” Then back to Cass. “They set you up?”

Cass shook her head. “I think the Bonefolder got to them after you’d made the deal. Saw an opportunity.”