3.4

878 133 1
                                    

Devil Town Business

Devil Town, Spate

Boden rolled over for the fourth time in as many minutes. Reyne knew the internal battle the recovering addict had been fighting while they hid in the drug den. The basement stunk of sweet soy, and Boden was clearly not as "recovered" as he'd been letting on the past few months.

They'd already been here too long—five hours and counting—but Madame Grecklin had locked the door at the top of the stairs, leaving them imprisoned in the dank room.

"How'd they know it was us?"

Reyne turned to see Boden watching him with bloodshot eyes.

Boden continued. "We were wearing breather masks. We used a fake account. I don't understand where we messed up."

Reyne shrugged. "I was telling Grecklin the truth. I don't think they have any idea who they're chasing. If they had any idea we were coming, there would've been ten times as many droms waiting to grab us the moment we stopped. My guess is they have orders to take in anyone who stops at Gin's."

Boden thought for a moment and seemed to accept Reyne's rationale, because he rolled over again. The thick haze in the room made Reyne groggy. He stood and paced to get his blood flowing.

After several minutes of pacing, he heard the door open, and Madame Grecklin emerged from upstairs. He turned back to Boden to see the man standing and alert.

"The streets cleared out about an hour ago," the woman said. "You should be okay to leave. But be careful. The windows have eyes around here."

Reyne nodded. "Thank you for your help, Madame."

She brushed him off, and then waved to a man who was slipping on jacket. "Mr. Fitzroy."

"What?" the man asked before yawning.

"You're heading back to work at the docks, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, and I'm running late. You should've woke me thirty minutes ago."

She smiled. "My apologies. These two gentlemen could use a lift. I'm sure you wouldn't mind sharing company with two generous fellows."

Fitzroy's face perked up. "Generous, you say?"

"Mighty generous," Reyne added.

"Then, the more the merrier. I'm parked right outside." Fitzroy motioned to the stairs.

"Thank you, Madame," Reyne said. "We owe you."

She waved her hand in the air. "If your side turns out to be the winning side, keep me in mind. As a small business owner, life isn't grand. It's not easy making ends meet around here."

Reyne gave her a polite nod. The three men headed up the stairs. Reyne and Boden donned their breather masks before they entered the store, in case any customers were shopping. Fitzroy slid his mask on at the door, and they followed him outside to where a beater of a truck sat.

"Does it run?" Boden asked quietly behind Reyne.

Reyne was wondering the same thing, but he didn't say anything.

They all climbed in the front seat.

"The air system's busted, so you'll have to wear your masks," the man said as he started the vehicle. It came to life with a grumble and a lurch. Fitzroy went to shift it into gear, paused, and turned to Reyne. "I sure could use some good faith before we get on the road."

"Of course." Reyne fished out a large bill. "This should cover the energy cost to the docks."

The man's eyes grew wide. "Yeah. That'll do." He immediately shifted the truck into gear and headed down the road.

The Fringe WarsWhere stories live. Discover now