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"These Kooks make our Kooks look like Pogues." JJ stares out of the passenger window at a large, white three-story house surrounded by trees and high level metal fencing. "You sure this is the right place?"
Pope kills the engine and sighs. "Pretty sure."
"All right!"
Having squished herself between Kiara and Pope in order to avoid coming into contact with the blond boy to her right, Judy slides out of the driver's side and takes a moment to crack the tension out of her arms and legs. Huffing, she joins the others on the sidewalk.
"27 King Street." Pope double checks the address on the letter, holding it up to align with his eyes.
"Considering how ominous this whole situation is, I'm not entirely surprised by the extravagance of this place." Judy kisses her teeth.
"Talk about home security." JJ bumps his arm into hers in hopes of diffusing the tension, but all he receives in response is a sour expression. He's not sure she's ever given him a look like that before. It's intimidating.
"Are those spikes to keep people out?" He asks his other two friends, because they aren't mad at him.
Kiara squints up at the pointed peaks of the gates. "No."
"The slave quarters are over there," says Pope, eyes focused elsewhere on the property. "These spikes were to keep people in."
"World sucked then, world sucks now." Kicking a stone away with the toe of her sneaker, Judy gives up on scoping out the scenery. Instead, she barges through the front yard, heading in the direction of the porch.
Several pairs of footsteps stumble after her until they reassemble at the door. "Do the honours, Popo." Judy side-steps out of the way.
A reluctant Pope curls his fingers around the lion-head door-knocker, slamming it down three times as the impact reverberates around the perimeter of the entire building.
"You think that was too much?" He shrinks.
"It echoed the entire house, that's for sure. So, they definitely heard it." says JJ.
"I think they heard it in Narnia, Pope." Judy retorts, and it comes out harsher than she means it to.
She's just in a foul mood today. She can't stop replaying the conversation from last night with JJ in her head. Over and over and over. The button on her brain jammed, stuck on a permanent loop. A bitter-tasting cycle.
