by Blou Bryant
“You think we’ll go with you?”
“If you don’t, we’ll shoot you here.”
“Exactly.”
She raised an eyebrow and in two long strides closed the gap between them. Wyatt kept one arm across Hannah’s chest, “Don’t,” he said, as she strained to move forward again. He stared up at Trix. “We’re not going to go in there if you’re going to shoot us, Now, you could do it here, on the street, but that’ll be messy. It’ll cost you bullets, you’ll have to run, someone might even investigate.”
She laughed, “Nobody investigates nothin in this part of town.”
“Still, sounds like a lot of work for you guys. Why not make it easier?”
With a nod, Trix said, “Perhaps. So, you give us half?”
“I will, that leaves us enough to stay for a few nights at the shelter that Shazam is bringing us to.”
“Shazam,” she said. “How much are you and that dirty, lying piece of crap charging this innocent fool?”
The other man paused, “A hundred a night.”
“I could get you a room for a week for the same price,” she said. “And less trouble.”
Wyatt locked eyes with her and considered her offer. He shook his head. “I gotta trust my friends.”
“He’s your friend?” she asked, pointing at Shazam.
“No, but he’s a friend of friends.”
“Your funeral. I’ll take three hundred, no fight, and Shazam will cut it to fifty bucks a night.”
Shazam started to protest when Wyatt waved him off and said, “Two-fifty, we need at least enough for three nights.”
Trix laughed again, a full rich sound that came from deep in her chest. She looked back at her posse and said, “I love this boy, he’s got huge stones.” She grabbed Wyatt and pulled him in for a hug. As her head came down next to his, she whispered, “I know you’ve got more, probably in your pants. Don’t make me go looking for it.”
As she released him, she let her hands trail down his arms and held onto both of his hands, hard enough that he winced. She gave him a broad wink. “Three hundred, right?”
Wyatt considered her offer, but not for long and quickly agreed to her terms.
She let go of him and took the money back out of his pocket. Peeling five twenties off the roll and handing them to him, she said, “Thanks,” and patted him on the chest. When Hannah reached across to move her back, she put her hands in the air in mock surrender. “He’s all yours, but if you ever want to trade, you can have any of these,” she said, with a wave to the men behind her. With that, the group turned and left them alone on the street.
Wyatt tucked the remaining bills into his sweats and shrugged. “That went better than it could have. Let’s get to the HUC before we lose what little money we have left,” he said. The twins and Hannah didn’t mention that there was still a lot more, taking his lead, not trusting Shazam with too much information.
The next two blocks were even more decrepit than the first had been. In places, the pavement buckled and small trees grew out of what had been a road. Wyatt leaped across one that was filled with water. “Someone call a road crew,” he said, joking.
Hannah caught up and said, “No chance. It’s a Reclamation Zone.”
“What’s that?”
“Government lets it go back to nature, apparently it’s good for the environment.”
Wyatt didn’t reply, but it seemed to him that the government had slapped a pretty name on giving up and moving on.
A little over ten minutes later they turned left. An old Victorian house loomed over the middle of the street. The front was brick, but the back was expanded, creating a twisted union of a seventies’ apartment block and an upscale family home. It was a beast. Across the front was a banner that exclaimed, “Work Will Save You.” Two large men guarded the front door while a small group loitered around the front lawn.
“Welcome to the Hand-Up Center,” Shazam said and wheeled up to the entrance.
“Dinner isn’t for three hours,” said the left doorman. “And you’re too late for the daily work assignment.”
“Hey Randy, Brad, we’re here to see Joshua. He knows were coming.”
“What’s it about?”
“It’s about something Joshua knows about.”
Randy stared at Shazam, who stared back. Wyatt wasn’t interested in their little power play. “Guys, we called in advance. Can you go get him?”
Brad said, “We don’t work for free.”
“Give him some money,” said Shazam, “I know them, good guys, even if they act like jerks sometimes.”
Wyatt shook his head. “No, we’ll pay Joshua, not these two. If he wants to pay them, he can. If they don’t let us in, they can explain to him where his money went,” he said. After a brief staring contest, the man gave in and Wyatt was escorted into the house. Everyone else remained outside.
The house was converted from its original use. The front room, once likely a large reception hall for one of Detroit’s wealthy families, now featured a line of serving tables. Bowls and plates were set out and Wyatt’s stomach growled at the smell that came from the kitchen.
He followed the bruiser down a hall lined with motivational posters. These alternated between ones that extolled the work of the government and various companies that contributed to the Hand-Up program, and others that urged participants to Dream and Work. The backdrops were invariably locations that nobody who needed the home would ever have the chance to visit.
Around a corner, the two stopped before a door labeled ‘Director J. Rankin.’ The doorman held a phone up to his face, scanning him. Seconds later, the results came back. “You’re not in the system?” He tapped twice on it and held it out. “Put a finger on it, we’ll use a print check.”
“A print check?” asked Wyatt, realizing it was a fingerprint scanner as well. That wouldn’t do. He wasn’t sure if he was in the system, but he wasn’t willing to wager his life on it. “No, there isn’t any need to do that.”
The doorman grabbed his hand and tried to force it on the scanner.
“No,” he reiterated. Wyatt grabbed the doorman by the thumb, twisted and forced him to the ground. With his other hand, he opened the door. A tall, older man looked at him with surprise, then got out of his seat when he saw his doorman grimacing in pain on the ground.
“What the heck?”
“Joshua, I’m Roger Millar, Shazam called ahead to tell you we were coming.”
The doorman punched out with his other hand, but he couldn’t get any leverage, and was forced down farther as Wyatt twisted his thumb to the breaking point.
“I don’t want a fight, but I also don’t think it’s safe to have my fingerprints scanned. I’m not here for the program.”
Joshua raised an eyebrow, put a hand down to his desk and pulled open a drawer.
“I’m not armed and mean no harm,” said Wyatt quickly as the other man drew a weapon. “But you must deal with people occasionally who want their anonymity preserved?”
Joshua pointed the gun at a seat. “Come in, but make one wrong move...”
Wyatt said, “Understood,” let the doorman go, and stepped into the office.
“Randy, come in, shut the door behind you and stand behind Roger. That’s not your real name, though, is it?”
Wyatt took a seat and said, “No, it’s not.” He looked around the office as the other man sat back down. It was spartan, there were no motivational posters on the wall or personal effects of any sort. “I’d like to rent a room for several nights. I understand you can do that.”
“Shazam said you’d not be trouble.”
“Despite our introduction, we won’t be. I’m in town for a few days and have work to do. I’d like a shower and somewhere to sleep.”
“What’s your work?”
Wyatt wasn’t going to tell the truth but didn’t have a lie ready. “That’s my business.”
“Let’s try a different question. Is it illegal?”
&nbs
p; “No, it’s not,” he said, but that wasn’t entirely true. He thought back to his conversation with Sandra. Not everything illegal was wrong. “We’re looking into something, just getting information, and then we’re gone. A friend of mine has gone missing. We’re looking for him.”
Joshua looked him up and down and considered the request. He relented, nodding. “It’s a hundred dollars a day. Paid first thing in the morning. Don’t pay, you’re out. If you cause any trouble, you’re out. Get any police attention, I’ll turn you in myself.”
“That’s fair. You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said, pulled the remaining twenties out of his sweats and tossed them on top of the desk, next to the gun.
With an agreement reached, everyone was searched with the exception of Shazam, who wasn’t allowed in. He complained and had Ira on his side, but Wyatt couldn’t trust an outsider, and wasn’t going to get the guy into the middle of their fight. Forty dollars and a promise to consider his help later was enough to mollify him and Shazam rolled away.
They were shown to a simple room, two double beds filling most of the space. A shared bathroom at the end of the hall was all they had but at least it was sparkling clean. State payments required work, and the house was kept in perfect repair.
Joshua showed them around and explained the rules. They had to be in by nine, or they’d be locked out until the next morning. As they examined their room, he made sure they understood that drugs and alcohol were strictly forbidden, as were guests, staying up late, not cleaning up after yourself and music. When they asked about wireless, Joshua said that wasn’t available either.
Hannah watched quietly at first and had to ask, “Why take us in?” Wyatt winced, he didn’t want any more discussion.
“You’ve paid,” the man said with a brilliant grin. “And because it’s what we do.”
She scoffed, “The money doesn’t matter to you, that much is clear from how this place is maintained. You’re not wanting for cash. Why take in people who are breaking some rules, especially if you don’t know them?”
“It’s been my experience,” he said, “that turning away those in need isn’t the best way to help. I want to help you to find a better, more honest way to live.”
She scoffed. “More honest? You don’t even know us.”
Joshua raised an eyebrow, not looking the least upset by the questions, but didn’t respond other than to say, “I know more than you might think, young woman.” To Wyatt he said, “Tomorrow morning, don’t forget your payment. Breakfast is from seven to eight.” With this, he left them alone.
Wyatt counted to five, opened the door and checked the hallway to make sure Joshua had left and wasn’t listening in. Closing it, he said, “Showers, change and then we go. Twins first, then Hannah and then I’ll go last.”
Ari and Ira were happy to clean up.
Alone with Hannah now, Wyatt sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, which immediately sagged enough to deposit him on the floor. He laughed. “I guess we aren’t paying for comfort are we.” More seriously, he asked, “Do you ever miss your home?”
“Not at all,” she said. “My parents got me this huge princess bed that was three feet off the ground. It was downy, covered in overly large pillows and expensive sheets. I hated every pink inch of it.”
He grimaced, “Ouch, didn’t they know you aren’t the princess type?”
“That’s what they wanted, so it’s what I got. I’ll take a futon on the ground with the Dogs any day over that. These, they remind me of my great grandmother’s spare room. Beds that are older than time, owned by people too frugal to replace them.”
He nodded, enjoying the sound of her voice. Despite his earlier misgivings, he was enjoying her company and said it. “You know, it’s nice to be on the road with you again.”
“You too. So, how do you want to do this?”
“Break into two groups, me and Ira, you and Ari. They can be our walkie-talkies. The police station, I don’t know what to do with that, so let’s leave it for last. You two take the laundry and me and Ira check out the restaurant.”
“Just looking for anything strange? Wrong sort of people, anything that looks out of place I assume?”
“That’s it. Don’t do anything other than watch. Don’t get caught, there ain’t many of us left.”
The two talked for a while longer, mostly enjoying each other’s company for the first time in a while and the feeling of being out. Wyatt gave her half the money and one of the credit cards before the twins returned. A half hour later, everyone was showered, changed, and they were out of the house, looking for a bus.
Chapter 6
They took different routes, Hannah and Ari going east, Wyatt and Ira west. which left him alone for the first time with Ira. He wasn’t comfortable with conversation unless he was close with a person, but it turned out that it wasn’t a problem. She did all the talking. Wyatt found he wasn’t all that necessary.
“This is exciting, isn’t it? I mean, I’ve enjoyed hanging with the Dogs since you healed us, and it’s all fun, but all that training Rocky gave us, we get to use it. Did you see Ari and me last night? I mean, kung-pow,” she said, almost hitting him in the face as she acted out the fight. A pair of old guys gave her a funny look, and she winked at them. “Kung-pow,” she said.
“We totally owned them. I’ve kicked some ass before, at parties or clubs, when guys got too friendly, but they were drunk or stoned, just idiot college guys, not like the ones we took out. Bad-ass, right?”
“Right,” he said, with a glance around the bus to make sure nobody was listening. Other than the old men, there were three people close to them, a couple and an old lady with her shopping between her knees. All three had their faces buried in their phones and weren’t paying them any attention.
“And you did okay, even if your guy did get on top of you, but I’m sure you could have taken him if I wasn’t there. And my new implants, I was jumping and running like mad, they’re crazy good.”
Wyatt hadn’t paid much attention to the alterations other Dogs got having no interest in changing his body through drugs or implants. “What’d you get?” he asked, politely.
Ira lifted a leg up, pulled up her skirt and pointed to several scars. “It’s mostly new. I’ve got ankle and knee implants. My tendons are all artificial as well, and I’ve got local implants that increased the efficiency of my fast twitch fiber. I’ve also…”
Wyatt had been watching the street numbers, and interrupted her to reached up to ring the bell for the next stop. “We’re here. Let’s keep the conversation neutral. How are Ari and Hannah doing?”
Ira shrugged and jumped up out of her seat. “She feels happy, so I guess they’re fine.”
Wyatt got them off early, making sure they could approach the restaurant slowly and scout as they walked. He’d read enough spy stories through his years in various basements that he believed he had an idea of what he was doing. “You know, this is sorta exciting,” he said.
Ira bopped along beside him and slipped an arm around him. “Young lovers out for a walk, is that our cover?”
He responded with an “Ugh.” They weaved their way through the late afternoon foot traffic, dodging person after person staring at hand held screens as they walked. “It’s as good a cover story as anything I’ve got. You like spy stories?”
“I’m more of a vampire fan, but there’s always a part where someone has to scout out the evil ones, so I guess, sure!”
“I’ve had some experience with that,” said Wyatt wryly, “and if we’d done some scouting rather than barge in, it’d have gone much better. So, let’s use those skills of yours. We want to find out why the guys who attacked us used this place.”
Wyatt slowed their pace and pretended to window shop as they walked. They were at 252 and the restaurant was at 291, so it’d be across the street and probably a block up. The back streets were residential, but the road they were on was all business, mostly trendy restaurants intermingled with small
specialty stores. He stopped at the window to one that sold imported knick-knacks from Africa.
“Nice stuff,” said Ira, and pointed at a carved mask. “I want!”
He hadn’t really seen beyond the glass and ignored her. “I’m checking out the two guys across the road,” he said. “They’re just standing there.”
Ira turned around and he pulled her back, “No, don’t let them see you. Use the glass window to watch them.”
“Oh, you’re sneaky,” she said and stared intently at the glass. “Um, what are we looking for?”
“Guys who are cops, or like cops. Probably ex-military if they’re not cops. Look for people who are sorta buff, ramrod straight, and focused. Or, if they’re cops, they’ll be on the pudgy side, a little dirty looking.” He stopped there, realizing all of a sudden that he really didn’t know what he was doing.
“Uh-huh,” she said, doubtful. After a moment of observing them, she pulled him back into the traffic on the sidewalk. “Those two are not who we’re looking for.”
“How do you know?”
“Come on, where are we going?” she asked, and he shared the address. Her arm still in his, she led the way. A half block later, she nodded across the road. “It’s the bubble tea place.”
Wyatt searched the street for a place to keep an eye on them, preferably a doorway or even better, an alley. “We can stand in that doorway; pretend we’re talking.”
Ira sighed.
“What?”
“You’ve clearly never stalked someone before.”
“And you have?”
Ira nodded, her hair bouncing up and down. “My last two boyfriends. Let’s sit in the sub joint, you can buy me a late lunch.”
With a shrug, Wyatt gave in, took her into the sub shop and bought them both something to eat. He got a veggie sub, a Coke and a bag of chips. When her turn to order came, she asked for a foot-long BLT, double bacon, with extra onions and hot peppers. The two sat at the window, where they could easily see people come and go.
In between bites she said, “The two guys, you asked why they weren’t ours. They’re dealers.”
