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Remnant

Page 21

by Michael Clements


  Isaac grinned with sarcasm, patting Daniel on the shoulder. “Don't worry, he could never replace you.”

  “I'm not concerned about that, boss.” You are, Isaac thought as Daniel continued: “He doesn't like you. He's only coming back for Mercy, then he'll take off again. He used us to keep her safe, while he was off doing … whatever he was doing.”

  “Ethan made use of the situation. We brought Mercy here.”

  “If we attempt to coerce Ethan to stay, he'll remember it. His sister is much stronger than-”

  Isaac silenced his valued enforcer with a wave of his hand. “We need allies, Daniel. I explained this to you in my office. We don't need Ethan on our side, we need his sister. As long as he leaves assuring me of that, I'll allow them both to leave today.”

  “You can't force Ethan to-”

  “Force? Have you ever known me to force anything?” He rolled his eyes to the side. “Wait. Don't answer that.”

  Daniel answered anyway, speaking as if he chose his words carefully. “I would say you're more of a man who always finds a way to get what he wants. Naturally...”

  With that, Isaac patted Daniel on the back, wearing a grin that said 'There you go.' The two stepped right up to the bars of the gate where they heard treading footsteps drawing closer. Isaac stood confidently as Ethan's face emerged from behind the wall, being escorted by four men. He could take all four, he thought. “What brings you back, Ethan?” he said politely.

  “A friend,” Ethan replied, more docile than Isaac last remembered him. Isaac gave more attention to the wounds on his face than to what he said. “And a roof.”

  Isaac nodded, pondering Ethan's proclivities since his absence. “Everyone needs a roof,” he said. The small talk already bored him. “Well, Ethan, what is it you intend to do with your friend ... and my roof?”

  Ethan was silent for a moment. “Wait.”

  “Wait for what?” Isaac asked, but Ethan did not reply. “I don't mean to come across as ... authoritative, but if I'm going to let you inside, I'm going to need incentive. You dump someone here, in my home, and then you leave without telling anyone where you're going; not even the companion you left behind. How can I trust you?”

  “You can't.”

  Isaac allowed the silence that fell between them. With it he meant to imply the obvious fact that Ethan would remain locked out until Isaac was persuaded.

  “Am I a threat? Is that what you think?”

  Isaac stepped so close to the gate he could smell nothing but the cold metal. “No. I believe I have nothing to do with your activities. Still, though, I need a reason to let you in.”

  “For as long as I'm here, I'll kill anyone who tries to kill you. Satisfied?”

  More than I expected from him. More than enough. “Well then, I'm sold,” said Isaac as he instructed Cameron to welcome the newcomer. Two of Isaac's guard frisked Ethan as soon as he stepped foot inside. They found only a switchblade in its case. They offered the weapon to Isaac but he waved them off, gesturing that Ethan may keep it. “Where would you like to stay?” he asked the beast. “We have a couple remaining spaces, or you can-”

  “Sir! Sir!” Someone called from across the courtyard. They heard struggling and grunting. Isaac looked to his left, where he saw Pastor Kent approaching. “You're never gonna believe what I found! She has a kid! The bitch has a kid!”

  Kent was a religious man, but was far from holy. He was one of the few residents Isaac knew by name, and even had a nickname, only because the man had a reputation for shoving his beliefs down everyone's throats. He had quieted down when he was caught keeping a 15-year-old girl in his apartment. The whole shelter scorned his hypocrisy, save for a few. Now, apparently, here he was, reemerging to ruin another day with his loud mouth.

  This is unexpected, thought Isaac as Pastor Kent dragged Mercy up to him, a little boy escorted by two men behind her. The child struggled the least, seeming to be either dazed or high. He was covered in bruises, scabs and stitches, while Mercy had none. “I know I didn't provide you a manual, but I don't permit children here,” he said to her.

  “They told me,” replied Mercy straightening her clothes once the man relinquished her.

  “If they told you, why did you do it? It's not a good time to adopt when the world's falling apart, Mercy.”

  “According to whom?” she said continuing to catch her breath. “I found Jayden last night beaten to a pulp and left for dead. Glen told me the risk, but I brought Jayden back anyway.”

  Isaac took a moment to examine the boy, whose head was bowed, appearing as if he was about to sleep. “If I let you have a child, then everyone will demand the same privilege. I don't know, Ethan, what do you say?” He turned toward Ethan, prepared to consider Ethan's opinion.

  “Rules are rules,” was all Ethan said. He never looked away from Mercy, not even to see the boy she shielded behind her.

  “Well then, that makes it simple. Daniel, if you please-”

  “I'm not staying here without him. I don't care if you kick me out.”

  Isaac paused, once again looking to his prized guest. “Would you rather I not do that, Ethan?”

  The man nodded.

  “Mercy,” he said while continuing to look at Ethan. “I'll allow you to stay, and the child too.” Then he looked at her. “If Jayden does anything to disrupt our precious peace, even once, I give Daniel permission to shoot you if you're not gone within five minutes. I won't even warn you, and I'm sure he won't either. All right?” The young woman agreed, and without a moment's pause she turned and led Jayden away.

  Ethan nearly followed, but Isaac stopped him, saying, “One question. If she leaves, would you leave with her?”

  “Yes.” He departed as well.

  Everyone went about their usual business. Daniel whispered to his boss, “You're getting soft, boss. No one will take you seriously if you don't enforce your own rules.”

  “What have I told these people, Daniel? That I'm head of security, not a king. Sure, they all know it's a ploy, but... We have a business to run. I need these people happy with me to make it run. If they reject Mercy and her new boy, then so will I.”

  “My men... They've been hearing things. Some of the people suspect...”

  “Oh please, Daniel. Nobody trusts me. The only reason they stay is because I've kept them safe. We have kept them safe. As long as that keeps up, they won't care, even if I told them the truth. Maybe I'll try that, just as a social experiment.” Isaac made his way back to his apartment, his guard following behind. Daniel was the last to move.

  MERCY

  “Find what you were looking for?” Mercy asked Ethan as she helped Jayden to her bed. She did not hear an answer until she came back into the room.

  “I've hit a dead end.”

  “What are you looking for?” Ethan said nothing. “I guess you can't tell me, right?”

  He was cleaning up in the sink, washing wounds on his arms and torso. He spoke when he shut off the water. “I found a lot of bodies. A family slaughtered in their home.”

  “'Family' meaning an actual family, or a mob family? Was there an old woman there?”

  Ethan only stared.

  I knew it, she thought. “So, you were out for revenge. Looks like someone beat you to it, apparently.” The way Ethan looked at her, it seemed there was much more to it than he was letting her know. He kept his silence, though. “Which boss was that? No, never mind, it probably doesn't matter. So, now that she's gone, what's your next move?”

  Ethan continued to stare intently at her for a moment. “I never said I intended to kill her, but I don't regret her murder, either.”

  “What's your next move, then?” she repeated.

  “I don't know. I've hit a dead end,” he repeated as well. “What's this child doing with you?” His tone was more scornful than inquiring.

  “I found him, left for dead by a mob that apparently uses children as cannon fodder.”

  “A sick strategy.”


  Ethan's words came as a surprise to Mercy. At least he has some standards, she reassured herself. “His name's Jayden. And... he's the reason I can't have anything to do with you anymore, Ethan.” She feared his reaction to those words, but remained strong.

  “We had an agreement.”

  “Ethan, you won't even tell me what you want! You haven't said anything.”

  “It's wiser not to trust anyone. I don't trust you, or Isaac.”

  “Then why are you here? Why did you agree to stay if you don't trust the man?”

  “I don't know what to do next. Regardless what that is, I know I need allies. Perhaps Isaac will suffice.”

  Mercy winced. “Funny, that's exactly what he wants from you. I'm sure you'll make great friends. Besides, just ask your mob family for help.”

  “I don't trust my family. I don't trust my sister or any of the other Matriarchs. Not with this. I'm not certain I can even trust you.”

  “I'm not a snitch,” said Mercy defensively.

  “Never said you were. But by now, you know who I am and who I'm affiliated with. I don't trust you to keep quiet if my enemies find you.”

  Mercy could feel anger searing in her chest. The more they talked, the greater its intensity grew. “Enemies? Of course you have enemies; you're a criminal. If I'm at risk of being tortured for information about you, that's all the more reason to walk away.” Since there was no use holding back anymore, she added, “I heard you made a living from women. Is that what you want with me? You're going to use me as a whore?”

  “With or without Jayden, I will get my end of the deal,” he stated plainly.

  “No, you won't.” Mercy made a beeline to the door, throwing it open. “Get out. Don't talk to me again. The streets are safer than being around you.”

  Mercy feared looking directly at him. She caught herself trembling. To keep it from showing, she slowed her breathing.

  Ethan stepped up to her silently. She saw the figure standing only inches away, his head a foot above hers, looking down with contempt. He did not breathe more heavily, nor puff out his chest, as she expected of a man like him. He was simply looking at her, until he finally obeyed her wish and stepped out.

  After closing the door, she took deep breaths, then searched for a means to stay warm. Though it was tempting to return to bed, she had freely given it to Jayden, a boy she did not yet have the opportunity to meet properly. He woke up in someone else's home, she realized. Part of her feared Jayden would appreciate James and Candace above her. I hope James explained that he was only a medic. She acknowledged the jealousy coming over her, but remembered she knew nothing for sure yet.

  More than anything else in her mind, she imagined all her hopes and dreams of having Jayden as an adopted son. He was pulled from a dangerous clan, saved by a new mother who would love him and treat him well. Both had already seen the horrors of this new world, and from now on, they would endure the rest of it together.

  Mercy went to the bedroom, where she saw Jayden was sitting up in his bed, though still with closed eyes. “Hi, Jayden,” she said gently. “I'm Mercy.” She refrained telling him that she was his new mother, though she wished to.

  Jayden slowly opened his eyes and looked at her. “Where am I?”

  “The same place. Same shelter. But from now on, I'll be taking care of you.”

  “I'm hungry.”

  Mercy sat at his feet. “I know. We all are. I don't have any food with me right now. I haven't eaten in a while, either.” Jayden's eyes were opened now, but he was scowling. “How old are you, Jayden?”

  “Twelve.”

  “Only twelve? You're big for your age.”

  Jayden sighed. “Yeah, everybody says that.”

  “Where are you from, Jayden?”

  “Portland,” he said.

  Mercy figured that, but found that her question was not specific enough. “Have you been in downtown the whole time since... well, you know?” Jayden didn't appear to understand her question. “Why aren't you in a neighborhood, with houses and parks?”

  “I didn't live in a house,” he replied abruptly. “I lived in an apartment.” He avoided eye contact and unceasingly fidgeted. Mercy assumed he was shy at first. His voice shifted to a sadder, broken tone. “Somebody took me from my mom and dad.”

  She struggled finding the right words to say while she thought, His parents could still be alive. “Where did they take you? Did they bring you here to the city?” I'm asking too many questions...

  “They threw me in a van. Next thing I know, I'm in some church with a whoooole bunch of other kids. I don't know why they took me. I don't think my parents knew, because they were sleeping and the guys were very quiet.” Mercy rested her hand on his shin. “They told me to be quiet and they hit me when I said things.”

  “Jayden,” she said, thinking it best to keep him from revisiting the traumatic memory. “I'll be taking care of you for now, okay? If your parents are still alive, I'll bring you to them. I promise!” Jayden did not smile. His face read apathy. His lack of reaction caused Mercy to think, It's like he never had parents. Regardless how he felt about it, a promise was a promise. She only wished he expressed feelings toward the matter, one way or another.

  “Where's food?” he asked again as Mercy removed her hand.

  “I don't have food. I need to find some.” Jayden tensed. He scanned his surroundings carefully, then studied Mercy. She was delighted to see him move for once, but feared the question of why. He was scowling, and underneath the blanket, it appeared he was clenching his fist. “Can I ask you something?” she said, thinking that further conversation could relax him more.

  Jayden crossed his arms with a huff. “What?”

  “The people that kept you prisoner... Will they come looking for you?”

  “Why would they look for me? They tried to kill me.”

  Mercy gently bit her lip. “Maybe. I'm just... I'm just wondering if they're people I should worry about. We need to be sure.”

  He responded with an exaggerated shrug. “I wouldn't mess with them if I were you. We do what we want, and no one can ever stop us.”

  'We?'

  “Ugh!” Jayden began to scream. Talk did nothing to help his patience. “Why don't you have food? We always had food! We always had food! Always!” He threw open his covers and punched his pillow twice. Mercy wisely stepped back. “You stole me, didn't you? You stole me from my friends!”

  “I... I didn't take you from your friends. Your friends hurt you then left you to die.” Though her words were dwarfed in volume by his, they found a way to soothe him back to serenity. “They're not here, though. You're safe now.” She pondered a moment. “I'll find us some food, okay? You're a growing boy, and I know how important food is when you're growing.”

  Banging on their front door startled them both. Mercy's heart skipped a beat. A man on the other side of the door was screaming as she heard footsteps shift from apartment to apartment. The voice was demanding everyone take arms. “Get out and fight! Protect each other!” Fight what? she wondered, as her breathing become more labored.

  “What's happening?” said the terrified boy. He did not retreat to his bed covers, but rather got out of the bed and stood straight.

  “I don't know. Stay here.” She ran to the hall, where people ran amok in both directions. “What's going on?” she asked of whomever might answer. From a window overlooking the courtyard she could see the horrifying sight of men armed with pistols and long rifles pouring into the shelter, shooting everything that moved. Isaac's men were shooting back from the roof. The gate was wide open. Travis, Isaac's principle gatekeeper, lay flat on the ground, his body trampled by the intruders.

  Every second that passed was a moment that she could lose Jayden...

  Without a thought, she ran back to her apartment, frantically searching for her gun. She found it before long, stashed under the couch. Jayden stood beside the door frame in the bedroom, prepared to pounce any intruder. Good thinking, she
thought. Then she haphazardly searched through the kitchen for a knife to provide him, but all its drawers, cabinets and totes only contained of papers, cookbooks, pots and other insignificant items. He's got to use something, she thought. She took one of the smaller pots, then ran back, handing it to him.

  They waited there in the bedroom, hearing the screaming and gunshots directly outside their door. More terrifying than the gunshots were the cries of the dying. Mercy could hear both sides fight with such aggression, she assumed a rival clan had broken in to settle a grudge. Releasing the clip to her weapon, she checked its ammunition. Feeling the heavier weight at the top of the clip, indicating to her only a few rounds remained.

  “What do they want?” cried Jayden. Mercy could feel the terror his voice carried, but he sounded ready as well.

  “Everything we have, Jayden,” she admitted.

  Only the apartment was silent as they waited calmly, enduring the torturesome sound of death surrounding them.

  The door burst open.

  This is it.

  She raised her arm to wall Jayden behind her. Jayden clenched both hands on the handle of the pot, Mercy carefully aiming her gun.

  The intruder screamed as he appeared, his agility catching Mercy off-guard. He struck Mercy's arms down, and the gun with them. Mercy did not waste time retrieving her weapon, but instead tackled the intruder, disarming. With her protective instincts in control, she threw punches at his head for as long as he was level on the floor. But the man threw her off, then mounted her, asphyxiating her with all his strength. Jayden stepped out from hiding, swinging the metal pot full-force at the man's head. It took two additional swings before their foe was incapacitated. Mercy took back her gun, and kicked his own away. She pointed the barrel at him as he tried to recuperate.

  I can't do it...

  She had someone to protect, but she did not share Haley's impulsivity. The trigger may as well have been missing. She saw the man's death in her mind, and she couldn't make it real...

  Just then, a large figure stormed into the bedroom, but this one attacked the intruder instead. It was Ethan. Next she saw, the intruder's face was battered with the fury of a hurricane and then he was back on the floor, getting his neck stomped on. The man gurgled and writhed violently as Ethan kept his foot on the man's neck. Less than a minute passed before the victim breathed his last.

 

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