21. Tell

21

TELL

“ T alk about fucking creepy.”

“You know, you don't have to talk the entire time,” Gavin mutters. I’m not sure if he really meant that out loud.

“Sorry, I just talk a lot when I get nervous,” I snap back defensively, “and you can't tell me you're not nervous either, the way you're white-knuckling the steering wheel!”

Gavin gives me a disparaging side-eyed glance.

“Alright, alright. I’ll shut up.”

“Thanks. It’s hard enough to concentrate on watching for patrols without you going on about it.”

“Good point. I'll let you do your thing.”

I wish I had my headphones. At least then, I could listen to music to quiet the noise in my head. There’s been too much chaos lately, and switching characters, trying to meditate, it’s just not cutting it.

I’m twitchy as fuck.

I need quiet. I need my own space for twenty-four hours. I need a shower.

Fuck it all, I really just need Hellena near me all the time. She's the only thing that quiets the buzzing rabble, the overactive imagination and endless speculating that rush through my head at any given second.

Wouldn’t hurt to release a little stress with her in bed, either.

Ever since we had some time together at the safe house, it’s all I can think about. You’d think I got my fix for a bit, but it’s completely opposite.

The reality of our dangerous situation drags me back to the present.

“Another patrol. Fuck.” Gavin kills the engine again.

It’s hard to tell who they are, the dark SUVs, the hint of gun barrels in the partially open windows. Chances are, it’s Marco’s men.

And they are out in droves.

Their obvious hostility makes one thing certain. We do not want to get caught and questioned. There’s no way to know if they know who we are, but it’s not worth the risk.

Gavin almost took out one group, right off the bat, before I pointed out another, and then another car.

The numbers are overwhelming.

The jeep rolls quietly in neutral before he starts the engine again, easing us through an abandoned alleyway between two businesses. To be fair, every street is abandoned right now.

Sanctum Harbor is under siege.

We’ve swapped cars twice, sneaking between garages and hiding spots on our traversal across town. Finally, after almost an hour of creeping through the darkening evening, we reach out destination and wait.

After several minutes of silence, Gavin sighs, looking down at my bouncing knee.

“What? I’m?—”

“Hey, relax. I mean, I know you can’t, but you know what I mean. I get it.”

“Get what?” I’m not trying to be deliberately difficult, I swear.

“You’ve been through trauma. Maybe from a different sort of source, but I recognize the signs. I was pretty shell-shocked for a long time after I got out.”

I swallow, debating how much to share. “It’s manageable, most of the time.”

“Yeah, funneling the energy into work is fine and all. But did you ever consider…?”

“Have you? I’ve been to a dozen shrinks in my life. All of them wanted to dope me up until I was a zombie.”

Gavin tilts his head in acknowledgement.

“So, you have dozens of characters, right?”

“Way more than that.”

“Right. How many times have we met, then?”

I almost choke at the question. “No one has ever asked that before.”

“I guess that means you’ve done a good job so they didn’t know to even ask. But seriously, have we? How many times have we met and I had no idea that it was you?” He’s grinning now, cajoling me with a good-natured elbow to the ribs.

“I don't know... I mean, how often were you out at the block?”

“Not very often. I did jobs for them plenty, but usually, they didn’t have me come out to the compound. They’d just send me messages through one of their guys. We’d meet at this pub called Clancy’s.”

“Right, down on Eves Road. Marty can’t pour a drink to save his life.”

Gavin slowly looks over at me. “No fucking way. You’re Dirk?”

“Hellena figured it out. I assumed she told you.”

“Never had a chance to come up.” He shakes his head. “You really sell it, man. Dirk is a tough son of a bitch.”

“And I’m not?” I put on my best insulted look.

“No offense, but you grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth, didn’t you?”

“You don't know the first fucking thing about how I grew up.”

“Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to snap at you. In some ways, I guess I did have it easy. Rich parents. But Dirk didn’t. He was a bully as a kid, because his old man was one. Beat him into shape. One day, he just left. Joined the Block. Decided he wanted a real family to protect.”

“You really mean that. Like he’s got an entire life. And you remember every detail.”

“Some more than others. Depends on how deep the character needs to be.”

Truth be told, though, all of them are real. Too real, sometimes.

“My father was a real piece of shit, you know?” Gavin says it quietly, and I see it for what it is.

“Mine too. At least, I was mostly an afterthought.”

“So many different flavors of assholes, aren’t there?” The giant man smiles, rubbing his chin. “Sends us down paths we never thought we’d take.”

“Is that why you joined the military?” I slump down in my seat, kicking my feet up on the dash.

“Yeah, partly. And my best friend was joining up.”

“Damon?” I don’t know much about Hell’s dad, but somehow, I don’t think Gav means him.

“Nah, I didn’t meet D until a few years later. Johnny Simmons and I were friends since we were kids. He was killed in a raid.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah. Long time ago.” Gavin sighs, looking distant for a moment.

“Do you regret it? Becoming a soldier?”

“Yes? No? Everyday? Never? I don’t know. I try not to dwell on that anymore.” Not that he’s not still a soldier, through and through. But I can tell he’s strived to become more.

“I think I know what you mean. I've done a lot of stuff that I'm not super proud of. It's easier to compartmentalize and pretend it was a different version of me that did it.”

“Now that shit is not healthy, right there, Tell.”

“You don’t say? I’m the poster child for mental health, you know?”

“Shit, I’m a dumpster fire myself, buddy. At least I was until I met…”

“Definitely. Meeting her changed everything.” This is uncharted territory, the two of us openly discussing our relationships with the same woman.

Fucking. Weird.

But shouldn’t we?

Or should we all talk about it?

A part of me cringes away from that openness. Let sleeping dogs lie and all that. But I know better than to cram it down. I’m learning better, anyway.

“Something that I've realized ever since I met Hellena is that I'm gonna have to eventually address this shit.”

Gavin laughs softly, cocking his head to the side. “She really is something, isn’t she?”

“Id’ say you have no idea, but I know you do.” I join him laughing. “She just kinda makes all the noise go away.”

“For me, it's the nightmares.”

The silence that follows isn’t awkward or tense. It’s strangely peaceful. Companionable.

Another patrol passes before we head out again, rolling out onto the deserted road leading to the Block compound’s rear entrance.

“What do you think we're going to find at the Block?” I sit back up, rolling my shoulders to shake off the nerves.

“Hopefully, not a graveyard.”

“Geeze, try not to get my hopes up.” I snicker.

“That, or we might get shot. You didn’t hear back from Ora?”

“Nope. I have to hope she got my message.”

The back slope of wooded land is nearly completely dark when we arrive. It’s a scattered mess of fallen trees leading up to the secret entrance Gavin remembered from making the odd delivery to the compound.

Just about the second I’m going to open my door, a face pops up in my window, her flashlight held to her chin to illuminate her face like a fucking monster and scaring the ever loving shit out of me.

“Gah!”

“Heya, Tattle-Tell!” Ora giggles, clicking off her flashlight as I shove the door open, trying to hit her with it.

“It's about time you guys fucking got here. What took you so long?”

“What do you think took us so long? There's patrols everywhere.”

“Who are these guys?” Gavin circles the jeep, checking his holster unconsciously.

“I'll explain once we get inside, the Girth-quake. Entrance is right up here.”

“What did you just call me?” Gavin growls, standing with his mouth open as we skip up the hill, the two of us cackling softly.

Inside the back gate, Ora hides the entrance again, heading down a dirt track that I would probably miss in the daylight.

“Why are we sneaking in, exactly?”

“Just for fun, mostly. But also because Grandpa is worried about traitors. Moles from that whack job, Vice. He’s bought so many people in town, it’s hard to trust anyone.”

“Good call.”

“That goes for you, too, Tallboy. How do I know it’s really you up there?”

“Use binoculars. And I’m not that tall.”

“Compared to me,” Gavin mutters behind us. “But compared to Ora, everyone is tall.”

“Funny, coming from the guy who’s almost as wide as I am tall!” Ora snips, the smile clear in her tone. “Hellena has been feeding you too much ice cream.”

“I’ll eat you too if you don’t shut it, half-pint. This is pure muscle.”

“Mmm, don’t threaten me with a good time, Rorshak. And you don’t have to tell me. I saw all the goods when I stopped by the house and caught you two fucking on the railing.”

Gavin chokes behind me, sputtering.

I suppress my own hearty laugh at his expense as we clear the trees behind a cabin at the base of a long gravel trail.

“This is my grandaddy’s cabin. We can talk in here without anyone interrupting or barging in.” She flicks on the lights inside, crossing to the fridge and waving for me to shut the door. “Anybody want a beer?”

“Hell yes,” Gavin and I both immediately answer.

“Where is Xavier?” Gavin asks, looking around the quaint but decked out living area. Clive clearly likes his entertainment. Big screen TV. Pool table. Sound system.

“He’s neck deep in shit, trying to figure out how to set up some defense against Marco Vice and his army. Devonde too. The Ghosts are mobilizing. He thinks they’ll make a play for control in the chaos.”

Shit is really hitting the fan.

“So, Marco’s finally here?” I take a sip, shaking my head.

“Yep. They invaded last night, rolled right into town like a freaking freight train. So now, we’re trying to set traps, lead them away from the compound, keep them from finding us.”

“Clive always struck me as an old soldier. I’d love to talk tactics with him.” Gavin leans over the table.

“He was. Marine. Two tours.”

Gavin just nods appreciatively.

“So, what’s the plan?” Ora flops down, looking at each of us.

“Well, we just got back to town to find our enemy already here, so we were kind of hoping you’d have the rundown at least. Then we can meet back up with Hell and Evan and?—"

“Hell’s back? YES!”

“There’s more, too?—”

“And I want to hear it, but first I need to tell you a few things. Granddad wants what you want. He’s looking to fight back and combine our forces.”

Gavin and I both tense. “You told him about Hellena. The Sinful?”

“I had to share a few things to see what he knew. Trust me, it would take a whole lot more to surprise Xavier Clive. And you can trust him. Trust us. Besides, I had to let him in just in case I got taken hostage or something. Needed to make sure this alliance goes through.”

“What makes you think you’d get taken hostage?” I snark.

“Um. Have you seen this ass? Very ransom-worthy.”

Gavin chuckles but sobers quickly. “You’re sure? I know he’s your family, Ora, but he must have worked for one of the Sinful too, if he was at the Ball…”

“I trust him with my life. He's not going to sell you guys out to Marco. He doesn't want anything to do with that motherfucker or the Sinful anymore, either. He wouldn’t say much else about them, but I got the impression he isn’t their biggest fan. And like I said, he's ready to swear himself to whoever's willing to step up and take charge.”

“Why not do it himself?”

“That… I’m not sure.” Ora frowns. “So, right now, it’s us and every resource we can drum up.”

I shrug. “It will have to do.”

“We’ve been looking at our numbers and it’s not great, but I think people will rally if they see that someone is willing to fight. Did you guys find out anything else about the Sinful, who’s in charge or why they aren’t doing anything?”

“Yeah, some. But Hellena is still researching.”

“So, nothing.”

“For now. You said Xavier was setting traps, redoubts?”

“Yeah. One thing we really need right now, though, is communication.”

“Hmm. I might have a few ideas of what we could do. Old radio tower out past my place has a lot of abandoned equipment. Analog stuff. I have some leftover equipment from… back in the day, too.”

“Ooh, man, one of these days, I have got to hear about your spy days, Dump Truck!” Ora claps the table.

“You gotta get him drunk, apparently,” I chime in, swatting for Gavin’s arm. He leans away, chopping stiffened fingers into my ribcage.

“Yowch!”

“I wasn’t a spy. I was a mercenary.”

“How about you, Tell? Don’t you have a web of secret agents feeding you info?”

“Sort of. Most of my big-time contacts are either bought or compromised. But there’s still the ‘rabble’.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time in the streets, down in the rough spots of town. There’s a veritable army of hidden talent in the Sanctum underground. Mostly kids, teens, wayward souls eager for a chance to share info, for a price. Most of them just want safety. Food.”

“And to play a game of basketball down at the old community center with Mister Withers?” Ora smirks.

“Um… I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“I work down there every weekend helping those same kids, Tell.”

“Damn. You got me. What gave it away?”

“You just did. And the fact that some mysterious old man with no address had a bunch of the kids I’ve known for years running errands for the elderly, picking up their groceries and such. Took a wild guess.”

“Yeah, I just figured it could help them build confidence and trust. Give them a purpose to help people who are in need just like them.”

“Wow. Never would have thought you had it in you.” Gavin nods, smiling.

“There's a lot that a lot of people don't know. For good reason.” I shrug.

“Does Hellena know?” Ora jabs.

“No, she doesn't.”

“Yeah, but she knows you're a big softie, doesn't she?” She pokes at me, trying to tickle me.

“STOP! Go get me another beer, woman!”

“You go get your own damn beer, you entitled little rich prat!”

“Get me one while you’re up!” Gav chimes in.

“Speaking of your rich past, how's your dad these days?”

“Not funny, Ora. No one’s heard from him.”

“You think Marco nabbed him?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t give a shit about my old man. But I need to know that my sister and my mom are okay. Whether he sent them out of town, or if something happened to them.”

“Well, I think a good first step would be to check your house.” Ora points at me like it’s the most obvious thing.

“Thanks, Little Miss Obvious. I never thought of that. I was just there a few days ago. No one was there.”

“Well, you might want to check again. Where do you think Marco and his crew set up shop when they rolled in? Looked like they had at least someone with them there against their will. Bag over their head, etc.”

“They’re at the mansion?” I should have seen it coming. My father invited him here to begin with, probably had him over to the house. It’s an ideal place to run a coup from.

“Oh, yeah. They’ve made themselves right at home, from what our scouts said. Whole place is crawling with guards.”

Just like that, I’m heading for the door, a sense of urgency and purpose driving me.