Cory

They let us leave the rickety room at the docks as the sun fell below the horizon, lighting up the South-End skyline in a burnt-red hue that was tainted with factory smoke. Cold shadows fell on the docks. The water under the building was starting to smell extra strong and I poked my head over the railing to see if there were any dead bodies floating in it, but the shadows made it too dark to see much of anything in the murky water except a tin can and a lot of dead, soggy plants.

I had Mikkel's gun, my short blade, and my knife back (even my lighter), but the BPV had already been tossed in the river since it was pretty worthless from the bullet in it. Mikkel tried to get a new one for me, but the Jaggars insisted they didn't have any. So Mikkel swayed them into giving us extra ammunition instead along with Wesley's jacket and belt.

I was surprised Wesley had any clothes on at all by the time we left, seeing as how Mikkel had so much fun pushing the limits of his manipulative power. "I need to take them by surprise," he said to Wesley in what had to be the weakest argument I ever heard from him. "If I'm dressed like you, I might be able to fool them for a bit." He smiled so big, I was sure Wesley was going to see right through it and shoot us where we stood, but instead he nodded his head and took off his jacket and belt.

I kept my mouth closed as we made our way around the outside walkway of the docks that wrapped around several buildings on stilts that all sat on top of the marsh water. Why anyone would build a building where there is no ground, I never could figure out. But whoever built it was surely dead because the whole structure was old and rotten in several places. But even so, it was full of people and little, dim lights that peeped out from windows and hung from cords above the walkway.

We got a lot of looks from guys that smelled as bad as the water below us. One guy tried to block my way and seemed to think I was a hooker, even though I had a gun on my hip, but Mikkel grabbed my arm and yanked me away from him before the guy said anything. He just looked over Mikkel, eyeing the Jaggar symbol on the jacket; then shook his head and kept walking.

Across a gap in the structure, women leaned lazily against a wall lit up with red lights and watched us pass. I thought of the mystery woman in our house and wondered if she knew any of these girls. Maybe they were her friends. But talking to them would certainly cause problems, and Mikkel's influence on the people around him had its limits. Even he felt anxious to get out of there. He wouldn't let go of my arm until we were off the wooden planks and back on dry ground.Only then did he release me and take a deep breath.

"Come on," he said. "We need to go find Markus."

"We're not dragging Markus into this, are we?" I said,quickening my pace to keep up with him as he made a b-line for the tunnel entrance we had used before.

"No, of course not," he said. "But I do want to know what the Serpent's response was over the radio and we will need to think up anew plan to get Miles and Dr. Gore out."

"I thought you had a plan."

"Not anything that went past getting us free from the Jaggars. I really need some food... and sleep."

"We can't sleep! I'm not leaving the South-End unless Miles comes with me!"

"Of course, of course," he said. "But... we can't just run in there like this. We'd be killed for sure. How did Poldi do, by the way. Can he handle himself in a fight?"

"No," I said. "He was an ass. He gave us away because he wouldn't stop arguing with me and then he just ran off."

"...and jumped in the river," Mikkel finished. "So, asshole,coward, and stupid. Good to know. Maybe we should just have him clean our yard. Look, I'm going to need to at least rest my eyes," he said. "I've been awake and shot and starving for God-knows how long and I can't be any help for this until I get some sleep."

"Why didn't you just ask the Jaggars for some food and a bed?"My voice got a little high-pitched at the thought of leaving Miles to be tortured by the SBS for even a few extra hours.

"I could never eat their food," he said, "They'd probably poison it. And can you imagine how many diseases and parasites I'd have if I touched one of their beds?"

"If you thought they were going to poison the food, why did you make me eat it?"

"You're a gutter girl, Cory. You probably ate poison on a regular basis back in the Masters and it hasn't done you any harm... that we can tell. But my liver could never handle the stuff." Normally, a jab like that from him would come with a playful smile and the hope of a good come-back from me, but this time, it had a sharper edge to it that kept me from responding at all. So I held in all my comments about his drunk liver and his Bastard lifestyle, promising myself that I'd get him back when he was in a better mood.

We found Markus sitting on the ground on the other side of the bridge and leaning up against a lamppost like he was a dog tied to it. He had fallen asleep with the radio in his left hand and a gun in his right.

"Well this looks dangerous," Mikkel muttered under his breath.Before attempting to wake Markus, he flicked the gun out of his hand with the toe of his shoe. "Markus," he said, putting his hand on Markus's shoulder. "Markus, wake up."

Markus opened his eyes slowly and looked up at us. A smile grew on his face, illuminated only by the lamp light. "You're alive!" he said, taking Mikkel's hand.

"Of course I am," Mikkel straightened himself into his superior,aristocratic pose to flaunt his self-confidence. "Do you really think a bunch of South-End low-lifes could kill me?"

Markus shrugged, but kept his smile.

"Of course not," Mikkel answered for him. Then he pulled Markus to his feet.

Markus looked stiff, like he had been sleeping there for a while. He rubbed his tail bone and arched his back. "Where's Miles?" he said. "Still at the clinic?"

"No," I said. "The SBS have him and Dr. Gore."

The smile on Markus's face dropped into a look of horror. "No! We have to get them back!"

"And we will," Mikkel said, dropping Markus's hand and walking toward the nearest building. "But first I need some food and a nap.Do you suppose anyone lives here?" he pointed to a door and began knocking before we could answer, then took Wesley's coat off and threw it toward the corner of the house.

I wanted to protest, but there was no use putting up a fight with Mikkel. Especially in this mood of his.

A man opened the door.

"Hello," Mikkel said, putting on his best smile (just a little worn down at the edges). He extended his hand to shake and took a step forward as he did so, as if to force himself into the house. "My name is Mikkel, I hope I'm not intruding too much, but have had quite a day and a half and I was hoping to come in and rest a little while,do you mind?"

I thought for sure the man did, but Mikkel gave him a firm handshake to smooth things over and walked past the man into the townhouse. I couldn't imagine that his powers of persuasion were that strong, and after shaking the dumbfounded man's hand, myself, I understood why he was letting us in so easily. Behind the static of my own nerves, I felt his feelings of familiarity and admiration. He had watched Mikkel and I save the prostitute in this very street, and he had watched me and Poldi go back over the bridge to save our family,leaving Markus behind as a lookout.

"Nice to meet you," I said. "I'm Cory." I stood in the doorway, waiting for him to invite me in, instead of pushing past him like Mikkel.

The man smiled broadly at me. "Cory," He said. "Nice to finally meet you both. Come in. My name is Donovan. Call me Don."

"Don," I said. He was still shaking my hand; the feelings of warmth and friendliness flowing out of him. "This is my brother Markus."

"Hello there, Markus," He said, finally releasing his grip on me and moving on to Markus. "How are you?"

"A little achy," Markus said, rubbing his back.

"Well come in, come in. I'm sorry I didn't invite you in earlier.Where is the other one that was with you?" he looked at me for that question.

"Poldi?" I said. "I don't know. Markus, did you ever see Poldi come back this way?"

"Yeah, he climbed out of the river at the bridge and walked home."Markus voice dropped low. "He told me you were dead."

I let out a little laugh—partly out of shock and partly because I wanted to make Markus feel better. He was starting to get misty-eyed."I've been dead before," I said, patting him on the shoulder."Death doesn't stick to me."

"You think so, huh?" Mikkel said from where he stood next to Don's open refrigerator. "I guess that sounds about right." He opened a container of food and smelled it. "What is this?" he asked Don.

"It's leftovers from last night," Don said. His smile had faded(probably out of shock for Mikkel's boldness), but he didn't lose his friendliness. "Would you like me to warm some up for you? I don't have a microwave, but I can heat it up on the stove in just a few minutes. It was pretty good, it just needed more salt, I think."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Where's your silver wear?"

Don pointed to a drawer and moved to the stove to grab a pot and heat up the left-overs, but before he could light the burner, Mikkel had grabbed a fork and started eating the cold leftovers out of the container.

"Tastes fine," Mikkel said, "Thank you for the meal. I haven't eaten since... I don't know anymore."

"You do look pale," Markus said.

"I've lost some blood. I will just eat and sleep for a little bit and then I'll be ready to go."

Don put the pot away and looked around the small kitchen at the three of us. "Do you all need a place to sleep?"

"No," I said. "I'm fine." I looked at Markus to see how he was holding up, but Markus seemed far off in thought. He stared down at the radio in his hand.

"I called in to the Serpents, just like you said, Cory. But no one even answered."

"It's okay, Markus." I put my hand on his arm and tried to comfort him, but his feelings of helplessness and guilt wouldn't go away.

"It's not your fault, Markus." Mikkel said. "They're just assholes. But we'll fix everything."

Mikkel passed out on Don's dirty couch shortly after finishing cold left-overs. Markus sat down on the floor next and leaned up against the couch, laying his head on Mikkel's arm.

"You're welcome to take my bed if you want or..." Don tried his best not to sound creepy, but honestly, sleep or creepiness wasn't even on my mind. All I wanted to do was to get Miles out of the South-End before he got killed. Even the idea of sitting down irked me and made me feel useless.

"No, thank you," I said. Then I dropped my voice into a whisper."I'm just gonna... slip out for a bit." I glanced over at the boys to see if they heard me, then backed out of the house.

It always struck me as odd how fast things get dark when the sun begins to set. When we first arrived at the house, there was still aglow of light from the west, but when I walked back outside, it looked as though it had always been dark. The street lamps flickered and struggled to stay on, making a buzzing noise, like giant insects on sticks. It was cold out, too.

I rubbed my bare arms for a moment of warmth before slowly making my way back over the bridge. I had to think things through carefully.Mikkel might be the master manipulator, but I was the master infiltrator. ...Or mistress, maybe. And without Poldi to screw me over, I was confident that I could get Miles out. I would just have to be extra careful.

I stopped walking when I got to Dr. Gore's clinic and tried to blend in with the brick wall... or more just the blackness of night. Down the street, I saw only two shadows hanging out in front of the mysterious factory full of beasts. Even their shadows cast shadows under the light of the street lamp.

I looked for a nice, dark way into the factory. The route I had taken earlier that day still seemed like the best way in, and maybe if they thought I was dead, they wouldn't bother with securing the area. Take two.

Moving through the shadows, I made my way around the building, but ran into the little problem of climbing the fence without a BPV. A few pokes in my side wasn't all that bad compared to some of the other injuries I've taken over the years, so I took a deep breath and rolled over the barbed wire quickly, thinking light thoughts in hopes of putting just a little less weight on the barbs. After landing on the ground and putting my shoes back on, I counted seven punctures in my side and arm, but they weren't all that bad. At least, not that I could tell in the dark. But the injuries made me remember that I had no protection against a gunshot, so from that point on, I would have to be perfect in everything I did. Think like Mikkel, I thought. Just think like Mikkel and I'll nail this.