11

 By the time I had made it back to Nekauna, the sky was beginning to dim. A lamplighter walked down the street holding a candle on a pole; he lit lampposts and smoked a cigarette as he went, whistling in between lights and puffs. The tune echoed off the terraced buildings and the cobbled stones which were beginning to darken under the rising moon’s gaze.

 I stopped for a moment, pulled out my pipe and had a puff myself. There was a slight breeze which chilled the back of my neck, I watched and listened to the chime above Mouse’s entrance. The thought of Jak and Blue Henry working together angered me. I had to tell Don. Maybe Jak was the one spreading rumours. But the children must be sought to first.

 I stood for a while longer, puffing away before tipping the residue onto the ground. I came to the trap doors and knocked.

 “Who is it?” the muffled question came from the other side.

 “Cal.”

 The sound of a rusted metal lock sliding open was followed by a pair of eyes peering through a slight gap. The doors were then opened by a girl inside who beckoned me in silently.

 I crouched down and entered. Lamps were lit in every corner illuminating the cramped space the children lived in. Mouse walked over to me with Sonny behind him.

 “It’s cold in here,” I said hugging my shoulders.

 Mouse shrugged. “The other place was warmer but, you get used to it.”

 “Where’d you used to live?”

 “Elm Grove, the old alchemy store,” Sonny said. “It was insulated at least.”

 “You can’t stay here, Mouse. Have you thought about Val Corner, Prospect would look after you, I’m sure of it.”

 “If we repent our sins and give our souls to Grace.” Sonny shook his head. “Look at us; we wouldn’t last reciting scripture. We can’t read.”

 “It’s a nice thought, Cal, honestly, but we’re fine.”

 “Suit yourself.”

 “What did you find out?”

 “Nothing in particular or nothing you lot can concern yourself with.”

 “Hey, these robbings are to do with us so we are concerned,” Sonny scorned. He clenched his fists at his sides.

 “He’s right, Cal.”

 I sighed and shook my head. I forgot how mature Mouse was from the look of him. He should have been in a family home, maybe shining shoes on the side for some extra coin, not stealing and feeding me information to look after this lot. I made a mental note to tip him more.

 “I followed them to Blue Henry’s turf.”

 “Blue Henry? What’s he doing messing with the south?” Mouse asked.

 “There’s more, they were Handy Jak’s boys.”

 “Uh who’s Blue Henry?” Sonny asked.

 “Blue Henry is the Street Boss of the western side of Seren. He and Don hate each other,” I said.

 “Why Blue? Why Blue Henry?”

 “There are different stories. Don beat him so bad in their last meeting seventeen years ago leaving him blue with bruises. Because Henry’s wetmen drown their hits. Because Henry likes the colour blue.” I shrugged, “it’s just one of those things.”

 “And this Handy Jak?” Sonny asked.

 I looked at Mouse incredulously.

 “Sorry, he’s a Dipper; he doesn’t deal with all of this. No one else does but me.” A Dipper is a term used for pickpockets; it comes from dipping their hands in pockets and bags.

 “Handy Jak works for Don, he’s his financer. He’s called Handy Jak because he likes to dabble in underground boxing. Word has it; he’s quite handy.”

 Sonny nodded his head.

 “Listen, Sonny, there’s an entire world you don’t know about. A world I’d rather you, or any of these kids didn’t find out about. Hence my suggestion of Val Corner. They won’t touch you there.”

 “Cal, we can’t.” Mouse shook his head. “As if Grace would have any of us in her house.”

 “Grace forgives all.”

 “Oh don’t give me that s**t. You don’t believe in Grace.”

 I sighed. “Alright, fine.” He had won.

 There was a couple of seconds of tension between us.

 “So, what do we do?”

 “Stay clear of Handy Jak, or any of his men. You can trust me, Lowri, Dole and Prospect. Stay away from Ty, Grant, Breaches, and especially Omar. Oh, if he asks by the way, you haven’t seen me. Same for any Jűr that comes calling.” Mouse nodded. “Do exactly the same as earlier; wait for the robbers to leave before bringing the kids back, perhaps leave false trails. Tell your kids to stay in groups of three and to not carry so much. Spread yourselves thin, keep stashes to turn to. Any problems you know where I am.” I stood up, bending over a lot to make my way over to the trap doors. “Mouse, look after yourself, alright?”

 He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to, I knew he wouldn’t.

 I nodded anyway. “And in the mean time I’ll keep an eye out for a new place for you guys.”

 I felt better after giving them advice. Sonny was a little hot head, too much anger than sense, but Mouse was different. Before I left I pulled the wind chime, yanking it from its nail and tucked it in my pocket. The less people know about them there the better.

 The sky was dark now. Light from the lamps had spilled onto the paths. I made my way to Trinity Street, opened my door stepped over the stain of blood on the floor and collapsed onto my bed. The last time I was here I was dying. My body felt tired and my shoulder ached. It felt good to rest. I closed my eyes and fell into a long, deep sleep filled with dreams of the flaming red hair of Emi.

 

 

 I woke up in the middle of the night. The moonlight shone through my boarded windows giving the room a blue tinge. I rubbed my shoulder; a dull ache had spread down my arm and across my chest. I peeled away the now dirty gauze and took a look at the wound. The puncture itself was a deep red colour; the skin around it had turned a deep blue. Redness had spread to where it ached though. I walked over to my cupboard. Empty. I tried another, then another until I came across some whiskey, just a drop left. I poured it over the wound, a sharp sting shot through me making me grit my teeth. I held the gauze over it once more and tied the bandage again.

 I still winced over the pain but made way to the window. Between the planks of wood which were nailed to the frame I could see the street below. It was relatively empty. One or two walked by. For a moment my view was obstructed. Only a moment, something flashed past blocking the moonlight and shrouding my room in darkness. It was as quick as blinking, which is why I doubted myself. But then it happened again and this time I was certain my eyes had been open. I stepped away from the window, my foot pressed into the stain of my blood. It was still sticky.

 The shadow past again across the window. And again. And again.

 “S**t.”

 A scratching came from behind me. I turned to see the symbol being carved into my wall. First the circle, then the cross. The cylinder vibrated in my pocket. I hurried to my door, unhooked the trap and ran out onto the street.

 I sprinted to the nearest lamppost and stood in its pool of light. The shadows couldn’t get me there. I sat on the ground and leaned against the base of the lamppost. There I stayed until the sun came up; my punch knife was held in my right hand, concealed in my pocket. In my other I held the cylinder, its surface warm to the touch.