Part VIII: When The Past Comes Calling

Life in the riches can be cruel, but life on the streets will be your undoing.

THE WICKEDLY

By

Louis M. Warde

Part VIII: When The Past Comes Calling

             Rive watched nervously as the three goons approached, examining the situation for any hope of escape. Citizens around them moved in and out of the thugs, ignoring the obvious danger that the boy was in at the moment for fear of getting involved and risking their own lives. Several of them chattered as they passed, curious what could be going on. Sweat began to drip down his brow as the boy waited for his moment to flee, sure that it would come.

             “Rive?!” Victor shouted, bursting from the front entrance of the home onto the steps outside.

             Turning back to see him, Rive thought that he looked a little too worked up to simply be worried. He looked as the thugs did too. A split second was all he needed to capitalize on the opportunity presented before him. Rive ran through the goons. One managed to yank the vest from his back, but he slipped away, racing down the street, pushing his legs as hard as he could manage.

             The ruffians chased after him seemingly unfazed by chase. Off they went, down the streets, knocking over any in their way, they pursued the boy for no other reason than his having hindered their plans.

             Victor's eyes widened, seeing the dilemma at hand, so he raced off after the boy as well with the hopes of finding him before the others did.

             Rive couldn't understand how Victor became so tangled up with the three men from before. He wondered as he ran, counting as many scenarios as his mind could conjure, but none of them quite made sense. The only thing he felt sure of was that he had been played for a fool for some purpose to suit Victor. The boy was pulling away from the posse of bandits when he noticed a warehouse down an alley. He needed a place to hide long enough to get these men off his trail. As much as it dismayed him, Rive felt that his only option was to vanish back into the cover of the streets.

             Ducking into the building, he easily dodged the workers shifting and moving packages and boxes. Merely a moment after he slipped in and hid behind an isle of boxes, the crooks burst in, doing their best to seem like workers themselves.

             “A-are you sure he came this w-way boss?” Questioned one.

             “Stutts! How many times do I gotta tell you to be seen, not heard, you follow your orders and shut it!”

             “Y-yeah boss. S-S....” said the diminutive, weaselly looking man as he scratched his neck submissively.

             “I said shut up!” Commanded the boss.

             Stutts backed away carefully. Rive watched from his spot in the corner of the warehouse between two large stacks of boxes. He watched as Victor snuck past both the workers and the thugs, no doubt looking for him, but none of it set well with him any more. He no longer wanted to be involved with Victor's life and would do what it took to liberate himself.

             “Excuse me, sir. You're not supposed to be back here. This warehouse is private propert--”

             “Yes, I'm from the inspectors office.” Said Victor confidently.

             “Oh, what brings you out here, inspector?” Asked the worker concernedly.

             “We're investigating a crime that took place not far from here. I was following a young man who looked to be about nine years in age. He is a primary witness in our investigation. If you see him, I'll need you to let me know.”

             “Absolutely, but we haven't seen anyone around here like that.”

             “I understand, I'll still need to take a look around before leaving. I'll let you know if I need anything further from you. Keep a look out for the boy if you would.” Victor finished as he turned and walked off, mimicking an inspector from books he'd read growing up.

             The unfriendlies searched hard for the boy, dodging other workers by using the skills they'd refined from years of wicked lives.

             “When I find that boy, I swear I'm gonna wring his neck” Muttered the boss beneath his breath. He and Stutts had taken up a hiding spot behind some barrels toward the front of the warehouse. The third was passing for a worker when the manager took notice of him.

             “Hey, You!” Shouted the manager

             The man turned to run, but was grabbed by two other workers. He was a rather well built man, but not so much as the burly men working here who slung hefty sacks of varying materials all day. Their biceps, even to him, were as large as his head. He could do nothing to over power them.

             “Boss!” Called out the thug in a panic.

             “S**t! Time to go, that little rat's gone and outed us!”

             The manager called out for the other workers, setting out at his behest in search of this 'boss' their detainee called to. It didn't take long for the boss and Stutts to be spotted as they tried slinking out the front. In a matter of moments the warehouse was left nearly empty. The manager had sent them all after the thugs thinking they had been thieves attempting to steal whatever goods they could manage. The bustling city echoed faintly off the walls of the warehouse that seemed suddenly uninhabited.

             Victor looked around, confirming that he was alone.

             “Rive?” He called. “Are you here, Rive? I'm not sure why you fled, but I know you had your reasons. I'd like to explain what I've learned, can you come out so we can talk about this?”

             Rive felt torn in half. Part of him wanted immediately to go to Victor, believing whatever he said with the hope that the search was nearly over. He wanted to believe that he would soon be waking up each morning in a warm bed, with loving people taking care of him. The other part of him was certain that he couldn't be trusted, convinced that showing himself would lead to his doom. Victor was his closest bet to being free from the bonds and shame of poverty. The longer this life went on, the more the pieces of his heart seemed to chip away at him, leaving him weaker and more vulnerable. He couldn't take living beneath a junk yard any longer. He needed to be free.

             Cautiously he stepped out from his hiding spot and crept into Victors view, Victor ran up to hug him, but Rive jumped back, making it clear that he didn't want to be touched. He'd never felt that he had established a strong enough bond to justify such actions. Victor stopped, not wanting to push the moment and have the boy run off again. He was satisfied though that he was at least in view, only some ten feet or so away.

             “Rive, I know that you and I have been through quite a bit. I know that you don't really see me as a friend, and that is most assuredly my fault. I strung you along without so much as dropping a clue of the progress I'd made. But now... everything has changed. I've discovered who's behind this mess and I know how to get it all sorted out, then we can all live a happy life, you, me, and your future family”

             Victor spoke with great assurance to the boy, but Rive didn't move a muscle. Try as he might, something wasn't right.

             “Who's the culprit?” Asked the boy.

             Victor stood for a moment, a smile across his face. No doubt he wondered how best to convey the delightful information he had.

             “Well, It's--”

             “Nicollo.” Interrupted a voice that echoed through the building.

             Neither Victor, nor Rive moved from their positions, but both of them scanned the warehouse with abruptly rattled nerves.

             “Who was that?!” Cried out Victor.

             “Nicollo.” The voice said again.

             “Trick, is that you?” Rive called out into the openness of the chamber.

             “You know that voice?” Victor asked with a horrified tone.

             A laughter filled the area that swelled within the walls, becoming loud enough to bring a ringing in the ears of those who heard it.

             “That is right. Rive, This man is false. Stay away from him.”

             The boy stepped back further immediately and a figure appeared in the space between them.

             “No!” Shouted Victor as he reeled from the appearance. Stepping back, his feet slipped from beneath him and he fell to the ground with a thud, landing harshly on his tail bone.

             “Go, Rive. Run to Emilia, tell her what I always told you. Go quickly!” said the apparition.

Without another thought, Rive turned to run.

             “Fool boy!” Screamed Victor, pulling a pistol from his pocket. He aimed quick at the boys back and fired.

If you enjoyed this writing, please look for the next installment on September 1st, 2013