Epilogue

Epilogue 2.04

---Em---

     At the opposite end of the lot from where the subway trains are parked, a dozen or so of Ace's people have gathered around a pit. One of them carefully stacks a pile of logs, and another douses the wood with lighter fluid. By the time Comma, Liluye, and I have crossed the lot, the wet logs have caught fire, and the underground lot smells of smoke and chemicals.

     "Someone ought to tell them not to waste the kindling," Liluye mutters. "The hunters still aren't back yet. It'd be a shame if the fire died out before they could bring us something to cook."

     "You'd think the boss man would be on top of that," says Comma, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her sweater. Erez's sweater, actually—despite her attitude towards him, he felt bad for her having to walk around in nothing but Selina's torn-up dress. It is a bit chilly down here. Mouldy, too. My allergies are having a field day.

     Liluye comes to a stop in front of a subway car that stands on its own, separated from the rest of the train. Busted pipes and rusted girders hang above us. Wooden planks board the windows of the car. The doors have been removed in favour of a wire mesh gate with a padlock. Nothing that can't be easily busted open.

     Comma slides her fingers through the mesh and rattles the gate.

     "Wates might be sleeping," Liluye says, her eyes widening. "You shouldn't—"

     "Time to wake the hell up!" Comma clutches the padlock, and she's about to rip the thing right off when a lanky figure approaches the gate.

     He hangs his head, the rim of his black fedora obscuring his eyes. The strap from his guitar carrying case slants across his black tee like a sash. Ignoring Comma, he grabs the gate and slides it open.

     Comma blinks, her eyes darting back and forth between the padlock and the guy who I can only assume is Wates. "So what, the lock was just for show?"

     "Door's always open," says Wates, tipping up his hat. Beneath his heavy stubble, I catch a glimpse of a scar, trickling down from his lip to his chin. "The lock is symbolic. A metaphor." I'd put this guy at around nineteen or so, which still makes him the oldest out of everyone we've encountered on Valynar.

     "Sorry to disturb you, sir," says Liluye, lowering her eyes.

     "No harm done." Wates rubs his hands together. "Was just about to get me a spot by the fire. Some catch today, huh?"

     "Actually, sir, the hunters still aren't back yet."

     Wates squints. "I actually meant the new recruits, but that right there is some disconcerting news."

     Comma crosses her arms. "You should probably do something about that. I hear things get pretty sketch out there past sundown."

     "And taxes being what they are, it's not like you can spare the bodies," I say, staring Wates in the eyes. "Unless having a few of your people gobbled up by a pterodactyl counts as a deductible."

     Wates nods slowly. "The hunters are some clever folk; I'll wager they've taken cover for the night. As for us, I can see we're in need of a little talk. If you'll join me by the fire, I'd be happy to talk about whatever's eating you."

     He takes a step to the side, but I cut him off before he can get past us.

     "We need meds. Apparently you need to give that the okay."