Vagabonds

Chapter Twenty-One: The Funny One

"Are you okay?"

Joe didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on the Scottstown streets as Old Betty looped between houses and through the downtown, round as dinner plates. Eliza's attention kept flickering to the city that had long ago gone dark, hunting for the telltale spines and armored skin and soulful brown eyes.

Nothing.

They'd been driving all afternoon in silence, hunting for the missing Vagabond. And now, with their continual failure pulling her temper tighter, spreading her patience thinner, Eliza couldn't keep herself from glancing at Joe, desperate to know what was going on behind his wide-eyed shock.

"Joe?"

He blinked. Eliza leaned in, playing with the frayed edge of her sleeve.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know this is a lot, but I can explain."

"No, it's fine," he said, strangled voice, strangely high-pitched again. "I should have known, really. I mean, it makes sense, right, that you'd have some kind of secret like this. Things were too good to be true."

"What do you mean?"

A red flush bloomed on Joe's neck, creeping up the pale edge of his jaw.

"Nothing."

"Listen to me, this just happened. The night I climbed the fence into Fitzgerald base, I ended up getting..." She swallowed. "Saved. Those guys, they took me back to Ian Eckelson's mansion. That's how I ended up there."

Joe's eyes didn't stray from the pavement as the streetlights bloomed to life above them. The silence was dense and frustrating. What could she do? She couldn't force him to speak, couldn't make him talk to her or be magically OK with the sheer weirdness of everything that had happened. And besides, her mind was too full of her own worry to try and placate his. Eliza twisted to look behind Old Betty, wondering when the military was going to track them down, knowing she wouldn't stop searching until they got word that Daisy had been recovered, Amile Robillard be damned.

Finally, Joe spoke.

"Who's they?"

"What?"

"When you say they took you to the mansion... who do you mean?"

Eliza winced but forced herself to answer.

"Moose. The fast one. And... Aquila."

A muscle was twitching in Joe's jaw, his teeth clenched so hard it was a wonder they didn't break.

"The guy with wings?"

"The feathered ones, not the black ones," Eliza said with another wince, resisting the urge to check the skies and see if Aquila was flying over them now. "He's kind of like their leader, I think. The other one with wings is Tero. And Otto has the shimmery skin."

Joe grunted noncommittally. Eliza shifted in her seat so she could scan the alley behind Mr. Tim's pizza, trying to ignore the shrill voice in her brain reminding her how the words coming out of her mouth must sound to Joe, who hadn't been there, hadn't seen what she had.

"Look," she went on, "they're really great. Just give them a chance, I know they look... unusual." She pretended not to hear the disbelieving snort. "But they're nice guys."

"Right. Of course." Joe swallowed, as if to gather his courage. "Eliza, have you even stopped to think about how dangerous all this is?"

She swung back to face him, gaze sharp and blazing.

"They're not dangerous."

Joe chuckled, but it was a mirthless, drawn-out sound, filled with the stress of the day.

"Clearly, you haven't seen enough Marvel movies. Eliza, we're the normal people. If things go down, we'll be the first to die. I mean, you probably won't since Aquila likes you..."

"It's not like that."

"... but I'm gonna die for sure. I failed gym class. My mom had to bribe the soccer coach to let me on the team. There's a reason I like to stay home and read books!"

"Joe," Eliza snapped, cutting through his rising panic. "It's going to be okay."

"Easy for you to say, you're with them."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means they save you. No one's going to save me."

Her mouth fell open, but she couldn't help but think about the night on the bridge, the woods outside the base. Aquila had saved her. Twice.

Damnit.

But now wasn't the time to worry about feminism.

She curled her fingers around Joe's forearm, his muscle stiff from clutching the wheel. At this rate his hands were going to freeze into claws.

"Nothing's gonna hurt you. I'll make sure of it."

Joe's smile, when it finally came, was wry and pale. But it was a start.

"Always so eager to take on the world."

She smiled back.

"Only when the world starts it."

"Oh dear." Joe sighed. "It seems so weird now, how quiet my life was last year. What did I even do with all my time? I'd like to think that I —"

"Joe, stop!"

Eliza slapped both palms against the dashboard. Old Betty jerked to a halt with a wheezing, squealing skid as Joe slammed on the breaks. They both looked up, half-panting, at the cluttered parking lot in front of them and the squat, busy building on the other side.

"Oh no," Joe groaned. "Not Howl."

But it was unmistakable. Against the throbbing, pulsing backdrop of the town's only real nightclub, already thrumming with life as the sun dipped below the horizon, a single figure stood backlit by the open warehouse doors. Hood pulled up, shoulders hunched, fists clenched.

Eliza leaned in close to the windshield, squinting, willing herself to see despite the inky darkness.

"Is that..." Joe started to ask, but cut off as the figure moved, shifted from foot to foot.

When the boy finally glanced over one shoulder, his face was unmistakably mottled with spines.