Easternport Vol. 1, First Edition

The Fence - Part 2

Cory

Too many of my nightmares piled up around me. It was hard to keep my head on straight or focus on much of anything except my own fears. My ears rang, or maybe it was all the white noise in my nerves. Either way, I could no longer hear the boards creaking below me or tell how far away the Jaggars were. Too deep in Jaggar territory to run back to familiar ground, balancing on boards that threatened to break, hunted by the gang known most for their brutality, and backed against a field of unknown dog-demons, the odds were stacked up against us. Yet Mikkel seemed so composed, like he was waiting for a tea party to start. Taking off his coat like a damn gentleman in the middle of a building that was about to collapse on us at any minute.

Meanwhile, I fought off flashbacks that threatened to pull me under. My body shook and the scar on my stomach ached, reminding me of all the little pieces of gut that I was missing. Reliving my own death was not pleasant or helpful. Only one thing could have made it worse--one Jaggar face that I dreaded coming up those stairs. I wasn't sure what I would do if it was him.

In any other confrontation, I could keep my head about me. I just focused on the biggest threat and everything else moved to the sidelines. But he was different. He was the "Devil's Child." And he had already killed me once. Compared to facing him again, jumping out of a fourth floor window sounded like a good idea. Through the high pitched whine of white noise, I heard boards creak and sigh right below us, then footsteps in the stairwell as they made our way to the fourth floor. I wiped my hands on my jeans and started going for my short blade; then thought better of it and reached for my gun instead.

"No," Mikkel said. "If we fire, we might just attract more of them." He spoke in a low tone—tense, but controlled. "I know where we can drop into the tunnels from here. It's a bit of a run, but once we're in, I can get us back to the river without a problem."

"Or they could trap us," I said in a harsh whisper.

"Doubtful," he said. "I've never seen any proof that they know the tunnel system around here.

My hearing returned sharper than usual and I could hear the padding of their shoes on the steps and the stretch of every wood fiber that they stepped on. "Mikkel," I said as quietly as I could, "I don't want to die again." When he said nothing, I glanced over to see the look on his face. He was smiling. It was a small smile.

"We're not going to die today," he said.

The footsteps reached our floor, heavy and slow. There were at least four sets of them kicking up a cloud of dust in the hallway. I watched the dust drift through the door before I saw the first man enter the room. It wasn't the "Devil's Child." I let go of a breath that I didn't know I had been holding in. This man was tall and broad, but walking up four flights of steps had winded him a little. His cheeks flushed and he breathed heavier than normal.

Behind him, three others filled the doorway. None of them, familiar to me. They looked us over, assessed the broken window and our jackets draped over the side. I put my right hand on my short blade handle with my thumb on the buckle. It didn't take much effort to snap the buckle open and pull the blade. But I waited for them to make their move first.

"What are you two doing up here?" The first one finally asked.

"Making out," Mikkel said. "But you've ruined the mood."

I made a sideways glance at him and fought the urge to shake my head.

The man was not amused. He narrowed his eyes at us. "You two come from Center City," he said. "Are you Serpents?"

"Why don't you come over here and see?" Mikkel said. "I'll even let you take off my shirt."

I had to roll my eyes at that one. Everything was a big game to him. But I knew what he was trying to do. If he could bring them in close enough, he could grab them. Then they were all his. Unfortunately, I hadn't honed that skill yet, so touching them didn't do me any good, unless mild discomfort and static shock would make them run away. But it looked like discomfort was what they lived in.