Being woken by an anxious six-year-old is not a pleasant experience, especially after only a few hours of sleep.
"Okay, okay—what, Jimmy. What is it."
Jimmy stopped poking at my face and instead pulled on my shirt as I sat up. "Momma's sick."
"What?"
"Momma's sick," he repeated. "They did something to her, didn't they?"
"What? Jimmy. . . ." Hey, I'd only just woken up. "What's going on? Where's Erin?"
"Erin's outside talking to Silver," Tori answered me from where she was sitting with Jess' head in her lap. "Jimmy was supposed to be in here with us."
"Jimmy, were you spying on them?"
"Well . . . kinda." He glared off to the side, and then gave me a defiant pout.
I sighed and rubbed my eyes. "Jimmy. . . ."
He struck my shoulder. "Well Momma's sick and nobody'd tell me a fucking thing I know they wouldn't—"
"Okay! Geez." The thing is, he was right. Erin wouldn't have wanted to worry her son, and Silver certainly wasn't forthcoming with information. "Fine, but what d'you want me to do about it?"
"I dunno," he said sullenly.
"Geez. . . ." I pulled the boy's hand's off my shirt and stood.
"We're gonna want to leave soon, anyway," Tori said. "I don't really wanna spend the night here. . . ."
"Yeah?" I snapped. "Well, where do you think we should go?"
"I dunno. . . ."
"Well that's just fucking great."
It wasn't fair to Tori to take my bad mood out on her, but I was just as much out of ideas as everyone else and was tired of being the one expected to have all the answers.
In the end the decision was partially made for us. Erin was sick, sicker than she'd been letting on. I'm still not sure if it had suddenly gotten worse or if she'd been hiding how bad it was, but either way it wasn't something she could ignore any longer. She was out of options.
I went with Erin to the clinic, while everyone else made themselves scarce. None of us was happy with this plan—Jimmy in particular was rather loudly unhappy with it—but it was the best we could come up with. As a group we were too conspicuous. Erin hadn't wanted me to go with her, either, but I wasn't about to let her go by herself. I wasn't sure she'd make it there on her own.
The free clinic was halfway across town. Luckily we had enough cash for the bus. The clinic was over-worked and under-staffed, as usual. We sat in the waiting room with everyone else who couldn't afford real health care.
"You can go." Erin was sitting hunched forward in her chair, almost curled in on herself.
"And leave you to get back on your own?"
"Eddie, just—" she buried her face in her hands, rubbing her palms against her eyes. "Just go, okay? I'll be—it'll be all right."
I shook my head.
Erin let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a sob. "You're such—you're such a fucking idiot, Eddie. Just go. Just. . . ." That was when they finally called her in.
They wouldn't let me go in with her. I had to stay in the waiting room, which made me more than a little jumpy and edgy. The more I thought about it, the more this seemed like a bad idea, but there had simply been no helping it.
Before long the atmosphere in the waiting room started to get to me and I had to get outside.
I leaned against the wall of the clinic and sighed. The weather was finally starting to clear, but if anything it was even colder. I was starting to realize just how thin the sweatshirt I was wearing really was. I folded my arms and tried not to shiver. I was missing The Pit and the stability we had had there. The collection of clothes we'd had may have been ratty cast-offs, but they'd been there. I'd forgotten what it was like to literally not have anything but what I was carrying.
I didn't know if it was related to the cold or what, by my shoulder was starting to throb. Not the intense pain it had done before, just a dull ache that intensified any time I shivered.
"Maybe you should have them look at that while you're here."
I jumped at the sound of Jake's voice and spun to face him. "What the fuck—"
"Not that they'd know shit about it." Jake was leaning against the side of the building next door, maybe ten feet away, a lit cigarette in one hand. He had his hood pulled up and wasn't looking at me, but when she unfolded his arms to take a drag I could see his hands were shaking. "Not gonna know shit about Erin, either. Fuckin' stupid of you to come here, y'know."
I glared at him, then quickly scanned the area. Jake wasn't a threat, he could barely keep on his feet. It looked like he'd come down from whatever he had been on that morning, and come down hard. But I wasn't stupid enough to think he'd come here on his own.
"Idiots here won't know shit. They really fucked her up over there." He let out a laugh that sounded more like a cough. "Though I guess 'fucked up' ain't the right word."
My attention snapped back. "What—"
"She's the one they really want, y'know," he continued, as if talking to himself. "They don't give a shit about you, you're just convenient. Erin's the one they want. Her and that little freak."
"What did they do to her?" I demanded.
"If they could get their hands on that little silver-haired freak they'd be so happy they'd piss themselves. Prob'ly forget all about you. If you had half a brain you'd leave 'em both now and run. They don't give a shit about you." Jake met my eyes then. "But you always were a fucking sentimental idiot, aren't you, Ed? You care too fucking much. Always said it'd get you in trouble."
"What do you—shit!" I turned, and sprinted through the clinic doors.
It had suddenly struck me—and I cursed myself for taking that long to figure it out—that it was no accident that Jake was there. And if he had figured out where we'd go next, so would the people he'd been working for.
I shoved my way through the crowd in the waiting room and crashed into the front desk.
"Erin—the girl I came in here with—where is she?"
The receptionist eyed me testily. "If you'll take a seat—and wait your turn—I can send a request to the back for an update—"
"I don't have time to fucking wait, dammit! I need to know she's all right!"
"Young man, if you don't calm down, I'm going to have to ask you to leave—"
I grit my teeth and resisted the urge to throw something. The clinic always had at least one person on staff who was capable of dealing with rowdiness, so it wasn't an empty threat. Getting thrown out wouldn't do me or Erin any good.
"Look," I tried again. "There's been a lot of shit going on lately and I'm afraid she's in trouble. If I could just go back there—or bring her out here—"
"If she's in trouble it's not from our clinic—"
"Any new volunteers today?"
"What?"
"Anyone who doesn't usually work here?" I was starting to get frantic again as the pieces fell into place, but I couldn't let myself get thrown out. I gripped the edge of the desk instead of tearing into the back like I wanted to. "You'll take just about anyone with a medical background. Right? Bet you don't look too closely if someone says they want to help out. Fuck, it could even be one of your regulars. You don't keep real close tabs on them, do you?"
"I beg your pardon—"
"Who's seeing her? Can you at least tell me that?"
For a moment she looked torn between refusing and looking up the information just to get me off her back. She finally sighed in exasperation and turned to the computer. "What was the young woman's name?"
I had to think a moment to remember the name she'd given them. "Erin—Erin Riley." I had no idea if that was her real name or not, but it didn't matter.
"Riley . . . is that '-E-Y'?"
"I don't know! You're the one who typed it in!"
The woman gave me a look, then turned back to the computer.
While she was typing, a man in a lab coat came out from the back and leaned over the back of her chair to say something to her. He wasn't anyone I recognized, but I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when he looked over at me. I took a step back from the desk and tried not to panic.
"Are you a friend of Ms. Riley's?" he asked me. "I can take you back to see her, if you'd like."
Something about him put me on edge. Out on the streets you don't last long unless you get a sense of when someone's playing it straight and when they're trying fuck you over. This guy was just a touch too nervous.
"Bring her out here," I said. "I want to talk to her out here."
"I'm afraid that's not possible—"
"What'd you do to her?"
"She's fine, she—"
"Then bring her out here."
"I'm afraid that's not possible at this point."
Even the receptionist was starting to get worried now. She was looking back and forth between me and the lab-coat guy and then looking at her screen. "The file says Ms. Riley was complaining of stomach problems. Surely she's well enough to just step out—"
"I'm afraid not." The doctor—or technician, or whatever he was—stepped out from behind the desk and I took another step back. "There have been complications and it would be better for her if—"
"What did you do to her?"
"There's no need to be alarmed."
Like I was going to listen to that. He took another step toward me and I stepped back again. He spared a quick glance at the other people in the waiting room—everyone else had pulled back, and the two of us had a small cleared area—before holding one arm out in what I suppose was meant to be an inviting gesture. "Really, there's no reason for theatrics. We're here to help you—"
"'Don't make a scene.' Is that what they told you?"
He gave me a half smile, but he looked more alarmed than confused. "What are you—?"
"'Keep it quiet,' right?" I pushed again. If I was right, then he wouldn't try anything where there were witnesses. "We've caused enough shit, and they don't want the attention."
"I don't—"
"You one of them, or did they just pay you to snatch us?"
"Who—"
"Did you drug her with something? Erin. Is that why she can't come out here?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" He tried for a laugh, but it came out strained. "We've done no such thing."
"Yeah? Prove it, then. Lots easier to move one of us if we're out cold, isn't it?"
I heard the gasps, and the cry of alarm from the receptionist, but it didn't register until I felt something hard and cold press against the back of my neck.
"Even easier if you're dead."
I froze. Jake. I'd forgotten about him. The nose of the gun jittered against my skin as his hands shook. Part of me noticed that Lab-Coat looked alarmed.
"You could've walked away, you know. I wasn't gonna stop you. But as long as you're still here—"
"You gonna kill me?" I forced out, hoping to buy time as I considered my options. "You sure that's really what they want?"
"Like you know shit about—"
"Like you have the balls. You let a thirteen-year-old kid run you off this morning—"
"Shut up—you don't know shit—"
"I know you're a fucking coward. So what happens if you fuck up again? They drop you for good?"
"Shut—"
The gun jerked back and I dove to the floor. The butt of the gun glanced off my shoulder as I twisted. I kicked, wildly. I might have caught him in the shin, but someone grabbed him just then.
The guy—one of the clinic's staff, or one of the patients, I don't know—had one hand on the gun, and the other arm around Jake's neck. I scrambled to my feet and shoved passed them both, and ran. I heard the gun fire after I got outside, but I didn't stick around to find out what had happened.
A couple blocks later I collapsed against the side of a building, then slid down to the ground, trying to catch my breath. "Fuck—fuck—fuck—" I struck my fist back against the wall. I couldn't believe how stupid I'd been.
I only sat there for a minute or two before pushing to my feet and heading back out into the crowd. I kept expecting something to happen—cops, strange guys in lab coats, something. I kept scanning the street, but all I could see was the normal chaos of the city. As far as I could tell, I hadn't been followed. Maybe they really didn't care about me.
"Fucking hell." What if Erin really was the one they wanted? Why?
And what was I going to tell her son?
I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and bit my lip. The pain helped me force back the lump that was trying to form in my throat. I should have realized the clinic would have been being watched. I should have realized something like this would happen—
And I wasn't the only one.
We weren't supposed to meet up for a few more hours, but I headed for the park anyway. I couldn't think where else to go. I scanned the crowd when I got there. It was dusk, and the groups of kids trying to look tough were thinning out, leaving the homeless and the street kids. Small clutches of those better off were trying to get by as quickly as possible without looking frightened. I was about to give up when I spotted Tori off to one side of the park, near a heavily graffitied ad kiosk.
Tori spotted me as I crossed the lawn, and I saw her face light up, and then fall when she realized I was alone. "Eddie! Where's—" She cut herself off, already looking distraught.
I'd been trying not to alarm her just yet, but I'm shit at hiding anything. I grimaced, but waited until I was closer to say anything.
Silver and the kids were around the side of the kiosk, away from the street. Silver looked up from under his cap when I got close.
"What were you and Erin talking about earlier?" I demanded. His face was impassive behind the shades, and he made no movement to show that he had even heard me. I struck my fist against the partition he was leaning on. "God damn it, Silver!" I dropped my voice to a hiss. "You can't tell me you didn't see this coming. You fucking anticipated everything else, just about. You must have known this kinda thing could happen. Why didn't—"
I broke off. Jimmy was frantically pulling at my sweatshirt, crying "Where's Momma? What happened to her? Where is she?" His voice was rising to a point that was sure to attract attention. I put my hand on his head to try to calm him down.
"I don't—I don't know, Jim. They . . . wouldn't tell me. She—"
He cried out and struck at my arm, then started kicking and punching at me. "Bring her back! Go back and get her!"
"Jimmy!" Tori dropped to her knees and pulled the boy into a bear hug, holding on despite his flailing.
"We should've figured," I choked out. "Fucking stupid not to think they'd be watching the clinic." I glared at Silver. "Why didn't you fucking say something?"
He stood there a second more, watching me through his shades, then said, quietly, "I did." Another moment passed before he explained; "I told Erin they would likely be watching the clinic. She—"
"You mean she knew," I interrupted, " and she went anyway?"
He nodded, his first movement since the conversation had started. "She tolerated the discomfort for as long as she could, but it was getting to the point where she was afraid she'd be unable to function. Going to the clinic was the least undesirable of several undesirable options."
"Several—oh, fuck." I leaned a hand against the kiosk and rubbed my face. "Fucking hell. She said they hadn't done anything. . . ."
"I suspect she was unaware of any procedures they may have—"
"Fucking hell!" I struck the partition again and glared at him. "Stop acting like a—a goddamn computer and just—talk straight for once!"
Something flicked across his face, almost too quickly for me to catch.
"What is it?" Tori asked from the ground. Jimmy had settled into crying in her arms. "What was wrong with her?"
Silver didn't answer for a long moment, and I grit my teeth and resisted the urge to punch him. Partly because I realized that he wasn't really the one I was angry with, but mostly because I didn't think it would've connected.
"I can't be certain," he said at last, "but . . . Erin suspected she was pregnant. Whether she was pregnant before or not, she didn't know. I suspect the exp-p—the experiment involved the fetus. There are s-s—several possible explanations for her symptoms, and I c-can't theorize further with any reliable degree of accuracy."
His hands had clenched against the wood of the kiosk. That and the stutter were the only signs that he gave a shit, but I was surprised he was showing anything at all.
"Fuck." I rubbed my hands over my face again. "Fuck, Jake—he was there, outside the clinic—he said she's the one they really wanted. He said—"
Silver jerked, startling me into silence. He had pressed himself back against the partition, the tension practically radiating off of him, and was so pale he was white. He seemed to be listening to something. I held my breath and listened as well, but I couldn't hear anything beyond the normal background noise of the city. Then I noticed a pair of cops about fifteen feet away heading in our direction—and a split second later, Silver sprinted past me.
I whirled around just in time to see Silver stop dead not fifteen feet away, snapping back like every muscle had suddenly seized up. He hung there for a moment, his back was arched, then fell to his hands and knees.
Before I could start toward him someone grabbed me from behind. I tried to twist away, but this guy knew what he was doing. Tori screamed, and I heard scrabbling and running.
As I struggled, three others, a cop and two other guys, ran to where Silver was just struggling to his feet. The cop grabbed Silver's arm, then jerked back with a curse as if he'd been stung. "Not without gloves!" one of the other two snap. They grabbed Silver's arms, and one pressed something to the back of his neck. He convulsed, then went limp. Twitching.
At this point, the guy who was trying to keep me pinned got tired of fighting with me and clocked me over the head.
I don't know if I actually blacked out or not, but my next clear memory is of being shoved into a cramped corner of the back of a van. My head was throbbing, a plastic tie was cutting into the wrist I could feel, and—someone was screaming.
I cracked my eyes open. I couldn't see much from where I was on the floor, but there was a gurney in the middle of the van, and one wheel was only a few inches from my face. It was jumping and shaking from the struggles of the person on the gurney.
"Fuckers! Let me GO! You—" The screaming went on, but but I couldn't understand it. It took me a moment to realize that it wasn't English.
It had to be Silver, but I'd never heard him raise his voice, let alone scream like this. That, more than anything else, scared me.
"Let me go, you jackasses! You—" More foreign words.
Off to one side, someone was trying to talk into a phone over the noise, bent over with one hand pressed against his ear. "What? Yes, it's secure. No—what? No, I doubt it. What—No."
"Fucking assholes! Let me g—"
Just like that, the screaming stopped, cut short mid-word. Silver thrashed, jerking back and forth against the bonds around his wrists and ankles, making the gurney jump and rattle. It was as if he was trying to compensate for the sudden silence.
"Finally." The man on the phone wasn't the only one to express this sentiment. "No, I know that, it concerns me, too. Could you repeat what you were saying before? . . ."
"Are we sure that's going to hold?" Someone else in the van said.
"They said it would," the man just above me answered. Silver had stopped jerking and was now straining against the bonds. I could see his hand at the edge of the gurney, clenched tight and shaking with the effort. "Still. Maybe it would be better if we . . . y'know. . . ."
"'Switched it off' again?"
"We can't risk damaging it," the one on the phone snapped. "I explained this. Sorry, you were saying—?"
The gurney made an alarming jump and I flinched.
The man above me startled and looked down. "What—shit, give me that needle."
He turned and jabbed my arm. I struggled, but I was so cramped that it was barely token. The last thing I was aware of was the rattling of the gurney.
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