The Artful (Shadows of the City) (15 page)

BOOK: The Artful (Shadows of the City)
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ou would have thought we had returned Toll Troll’s long lost child, the way he reacted to seeing the bottle of whiskey. He wiped away tears while quickly opening the gate, then rushed us in and closed it behind us. We barely had time to walk in before he snatched the bottle up from Dodger’s hand and started taking long sips. He didn’t thank us, too lost in the taste of his heart’s desire. He only waved us on to the stairs that led to the subway platforms.

Plenty of people were about, some sleeping on worn out mattresses, others carrying on conversations. A shack was built around an old information booth, its window opened wide with a steep ledge, where a man stood over items on display. They were traders; they kept items of all sorts within their huts. One could find almost anything if asked, and if they didn’t have it, it was only a matter of time before they could procure it for you.

“Maybe we should trade them the gun?” I said, as we made way to the subway tracks.

“Nah, better we keep it. Never know when flashing a big gun can come in handy.”

I noticed the man who stood behind the counter staring right at me, inspecting me and taking note of where we were going. No doubt he would pass that information down to somebody.

We put the platform behind us and were swallowed by the darkness of the tunnels. We had to take the cathedral by cover of night. We still had hours of daylight left, so we decided it would be best to camp out somewhere and get some rest. The farther and farther we walked, the more Dodger coughed and fell behind. Twice he caught himself tripping over his own feet. The generator power bulbs illuminated the tunnels in a weak light, so I could see his eyes were beginning to turn a light shade of red, and his eyelids were puffy as though he hadn’t slept in ages. His health I could attribute to the virus, but the somber attitude and extended periods of silence were troubling. I noticed the shaking in his hands, and I decided to make camp.

We sat on blankets, spread around the warmth of a small fire. Shadows flickered against the tunnel’s moist walls and rats scurried about. The molded wood radiated a pungent smell, but we were used to worse. Being underground was cozy, compared to the vast alternative of the topside. We could easily cover our bases, our backs toward the wall, me keeping watch down the left and Dodger to the right. We were safe, and at home.

“Hey,” he said. “You think Red will sleep with me after we help her kid?”

Something in me snapped. I couldn’t tell you what or why, but that seemed to be the last straw. It wasn’t uncommon for him to make foolish remarks, but the jealousy of the previous night still ran hot through my mind. I needed little excuse to lash out.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked, more angrily than merited.

“What? It’s an honest question. I mean we are really sticking out necks out for her.”

“That’s really messed up, man! It’s like that’s all you care about, who you can sleep with next, and when’s the next time you can do something royally stupid. Why don’t you ever take anything seriously? Why don’t you, I don’t know, act like you care about somebody for once!”

“Really, man? I do care about people.”

“Like who? Red? Would you, if she wasn’t hot? What about her daughter? Basically, you’re saying you wouldn’t lift a finger, if there wasn’t a possibility that helping her would mean you get laid. You don’t care about anybody but yourself―”

“I care about you, you idiot! Why are you digging into me all a sudden, what did I do to you?” His agitation brought on a fit of coughing. Wiping spit from his mouth, he continued, “You been on my case all day. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” My heart felt heavy at his declaration. Here I was being so angry at him. Over what? A girl? Over my own insecurities? When he had been the best friend I’d ever had? “It’s just… sometimes you come off as so heartless. It’s hard to tell what’s an act or real with you, man.”

“Does it really matter? Look at us!” He indicated the tunnel around us, and, as homey as it had earlier appeared to me, the way he addressed it made it seem like just that, a tunnel. Dark, dingy, and unsanitary. We were living in squalor, rolling around in the mud like pigs and enjoying it. Well, were we? Or had we just learned to grow complacent with our way of life? Do pigs really know their lives suck?

“Is there a point trying to live in reality, Twist? I mean, really, is there? What good do we have, the simple little things here and there, so why not? If getting laid is on the table, I’m going to take it. I’ll take that over starving in an underground den where no one will ever find my dead body. I care about you, and that’s all that matters. I don’t need anyone else. The more people you let in here”―he fist-bumped my chest, where my heart beat―“the more chance you get screwed. You and I are like peas in a pod, and we’d never screw each other over, because we are brothers. So who cares how I treat other people?”

“Okay, man, I’m sorry to be a mega jerk, but you just got to be careful what you say. I mean you can’t march into camp and demand sex for saving her daughter.” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

He sighed in defeat. “Yeah, girls always gotta make things complicated.”

“Plus, Gia would flip her lid!”

“Why would she care?”

“‘Cause you just disgraced her last night.”

“Oh, no way, man. You cock blocked me big time. She spent the whole time talking about you, and how I need to take it easy on you.” Once again my heart leapt into action, but it was a mix of emotion. He was claiming he didn’t sleep with her. Not only that, but she spent her time talking about me! However, it was a double-edged sword. Why did she feel he had to take it easy on me? Did she think I was weak?

“Why? Why would she say that?”

“I don’t know. You tell me. You just spent the last ten grilling me for being a jerk. She said you’re an honest-to-god good guy. And that’s rare in this world of ours. That I shouldn’t spend so much time corrupting you. Told her I don’t corrupt you, I look out for you. She wasn’t having it. Next thing you know, Red is carrying you in on her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. And, now, both of them are fawning over you. Red marched off, and, with Gia acting like mom of the year, I decided to clear things up with her.”

“Wow, I didn’t know.” The elation I felt that Gia would choose me over him, regardless the situation, was better than any high a doser could produce. I wanted to ask more questions, but I didn’t want to lead on to my obvious infatuation. So I played it cool. “That was nice of her. Guess she’s not so stuck up, after all?”

“Who cares? We are ditching her as soon as we get a chance. I’d keep her around if she’d sleep with me, but I probably have a better shot at Red after last night.”

“Seriously, man?”

“Yeah, we don’t need her.”

“She’s part of our team now! We can’t just ditch her cause of your stupidity!”

“Part of our team? Are you kidding me? Our team is you and I. I have enough on my hand watching out for you!”

My anger returned with a piqued vengeance. His willingness to use Gia or abandon her was bothersome enough. But the fact he clearly believed I needed looking after only refueled my fire. “I don’t need any looking after!”

“Sure, you don’t.” He patted my back in a condescending manner. “You proved that last night, didn’t ya?”

“Screw you, man!” I jumped to my feet, looking down at him in contempt, the same way he and everyone else had surely looked down at me all these years, as if I were something less than what I was. “I don’t need you or anyone else to take care or look out for me. I can do fine on my own!”

“Calm down.” His look of confusion was masked by a fit of coughing and wheezing breath. “I’m just messin’.”

“Well, I’m tired of it. Why’d Red bring me to your tent when I got sick?”

“I don’t know. Common sense?”

“I’m not a little kid. I’m sick of people thinking I’m your lap dog.”

“I don’t think that, I told you who cares what―”

“I do!”

He didn’t respond. He just stared up at me, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them close and resting his chin. He sighed heavily until a wheeze escaped his lips. “I’m sorry, man. I never meant to make you feel like crap. You’re the only family I have. Why would you think I want you to feel like that?” His voice was so defeated, so deflated, I hated myself for reducing him to that. Why had I so easily turned on him? Was it really over a girl? Really? Or was it something within me, something deeper? Did I think maybe I was below him?

“Just leave it,” I said, lying back down on my blanket, staring at the flickering flames as they danced around to a silent tune.

“I―” He broke off into another coughing fit. I turned around, facing the wall, and closed my eyes in an attempt to sleep and end the awkwardness of the fight I had started but couldn’t finish. I could feel him staring at me, though; he did for some time, before I heard the shift of his body lay down.

Dodger continued coughing in his sleep, tossing and turning, seemingly lost in a dream of no return. I examined his face by fire light. Beads of sweat formed at his forehead, and his dry lips were crusted with mucus. He was in a bad way. It kept getting worse. We needed to find Smith and get that cure quickly. He couldn’t go on like this, and I had something to prove, not only to Gia, Red, Dodger, and everyone else, but to myself. That’s why I packed up my things as he fought the demons of dream and scribbled out a letter on his ‘
not a diary
’ journal. I told him to stay at Red’s and I’d get the meds from The Sons of Adam. He needed rest, and I could do it alone. I didn’t need him to take care of me. He understood that, but I wasn’t so certain I did. This was my only way to prove it.

BOOK: The Artful (Shadows of the City)
11.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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