World in Tatters Ch. 10

We spent the next hour or so dishing out soup to dozens of the ill-fated.

I call it soup, but there wasn’t much substance to it, just broth with few shreds of chicken and an occasional noodle. It wasn’t much, but for some of these people, it might be what keeps them alive for a few more days.

The whole time we were there dishing food, the three of us—Alice, Corina, and I—talked and laughed. I think I really got to know Corina. Not her story of how she got here, but the things she really cares about, her humor, the things that bring a smile to her face. Her relationship with Alice intrigued me. They’re clearly very close, but I wonder at how they met. What brought them together? Whatever their shared story, it’s nice to see that Alice has someone else to let her guard down with.

Once the pot was tapped out, Alice decided it was time we headed back to the inn. Luckily, even though we got back much later than the posted supper time, Alexandre’s people had been thoughtful enough to set aside some food for us. It was cold by the time we got to it. Even so, I felt almost guilty after where we just came from. Our meal consisted of some chicken, bread, and small mound of vegetables.

Even through my guilt, I was ravenous. We hadn’t eaten anything substantial since breakfast this morning, and even that was dreary at best. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for the food, but my mind is elsewhere.

Shortly after finishing our dinner, Alice and I thought it best we turn in for the night. First thing tomorrow, we have to meet up with Philip. I’m still not sure how I feel about doing an unspecified job for that man. I needed more information, with which he was not exceptionally forthcoming. However, if we’ll ultimately be helping people eat, people like the ones I met tonight, I don’t know if I could justify not doing it.

Plus, Alice trusts him. I trust Alice. If she says this is the best way to get the information I need, we might as well give it a shot. Still, I can’t shake the stirring in my gut.

I guess I should just sleep on it, see what Philip has to say in the morning.

*****

For the first time in a while, I wake well-rested with a clear head. Once again I find Alice nestled closely into my side, using my shoulder as her pillow. Two mornings in a row. If I didn’t know better, I’d start to think this was on purpose.

This time, though, I figure I should actually wake her up. We have an big day ahead.

With a gentle nudge to her shoulder, “Hey, we should get up. Get some food in us before heading to Philip’s.”

“I’m already awake.”

“Oh. How’d you sleep?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a while, to be honest.”

Still lying there entwined, “Good, I’m glad. We should probably go get our gruel while it’s still edible.”

“You’re probably right, but can we lie here a bit longer?”

“Sure,” I lift my arm up and readjust it under her head. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I actually feel safer with you around.”

“Ironic.” I mutter, not quite loud enough for her to hear.

“You have no idea how rare that is for me lately.”

“Actually, I think I do.”

We lie there together in relative silence for a few minutes more, relishing the last peaceful moments we’ll have today. When Alice begins to stir, I figure it must be time to get going. I watch her rise to her feet and begin to gather her things before I do the same.

This time, Alice accompanies me down to the dining hall. We collect our porridge and pick a table in the corner. When we first enter this cafeteria, I notice how empty it is. There’s only one other patron. Not even a return customer from yesterday.

I sit with my back to the wall with Alice across from me. We eat quietly, just enjoying each other’s company. Once we finish, we grab our bags from the floor and head for the door. Rounding the corner exiting the dining hall, I run smack into what feels like a brick wall.

Fortunately for my dignity, it isn’t a brick wall. Unfortunately, it’s a person. Not just any person, though. It’s the man from breakfast yesterday. His raven-haired companion idles a ways down the hall speaking to one of the workers.

“Oh, sorry. ‘Scuse me.”

“Not a problem. It was an honest mistake.” His voice is deep and rich, but kind. “Am I mistaken, or did I see you in here yesterday? You, but not your friend.”

“That’s right. I was here. I noticed you and your companion as well. Folks like you don’t exactly blend in. Not many people carry a weapon like that.”

The longer we talk, the more tense Alice seems to become. I can’t really blame her though. Being recognized by the wrong person in a place like this could be a death sentence.

With a hearty, genuine laugh, “You’re right about that. This sword is unique. My Grandfather had it made for me.”

“It’s a beautiful piece.” And it is. Now that I’m getting a closer look at it, I can see the ornate design of the hilt and scabbard. The pommel is inlaid with a red crystal set in braided silver and gold. The braided metals continue up the hilt, wrapped tightly to form the grip. As they approach the cross guard the braids turn smooth, hammered and carved into an elegant design. I doubt any of it is real silver or gold, but it’s gorgeous nonetheless.

I’m not fooled by this man’s kind demeanor, or the weapon’s beauty. He’s too comfortable with it hanging at his side. This man is dangerous. I have no doubt that his skill and that sword are equally sharp.

“My name is Richard. And the beautiful lady down the hall is my wife: Kiera. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Kiera appears no less capable than her husband. Maybe even more so. Her striking green eyes are more calculating than his piercing grey. She carries herself as though she were once royalty. Not the kind that sits by in decadence while their people starve, but the one who would fight on the front line with her subjects. The kind who earns loyalty. The kind you only read about.

The kind who knows her way around a knife. I wonder how she would fair in a one-on-one against Alice. I definitely didn’t want to stick around to find out.

“I’m…Stanley. And this is my friend Allie. Good to meet you as well. We really should get going. Meeting across town.” Alice merely nods to him, one hand by her side, the other poised near one of her many blades. I suspect the reason she never said a word to our new friend Richard is because she can sense the same air of danger I do.

After that strange encounter, Alice and I opt to make our getaway more swiftly. The way I see it, better safe than followed by someone like Richard and Kiera. Just for our own peace of mind, we go the long way to Philip’s tavern, ducking in and out of alleys to shake any tail we may have.

It takes us a little while longer to make it to our destination, but it’s still fairly early. The area surrounding the tavern is pretty empty. Considering that the bar won’t be open for another few hours, it’s not really surprising. We walk up to the door and try the handle only to find it locked tight.

That’s strange. Philip knew to expect us here this morning. We knock on the door, but no response.

“Let’s try around back.” Alice leads me down the alley behind the building. Coming to the rear entrance, we find the door sitting ajar. There’s something fishy going on here. In the blink of an eye, Alice has one of her blades in each hand. I draw my combat knife, keeping the flat of the blade against my forearm. With barely a look between us, we slip quietly inside.

The rear entrance leads directly into the kitchen. Normally at this time, some workers would be here prepping the day’s meals. Today, there’s no one. The oil lamps are dark, leaving only the natural light filtering through windows in the bar room past the next door.

It’s too quiet in here.

My senses are on edge. Every nerve in my body tingles with unease. Still not a sound.

“Steven, over here, look.” Whispers Alice. Where she pointed, there’s a small puddle of a thick red liquid. I can only assume it’s blood. From the puddle there’s a trail of thick drops leading to the pantry. Alice and I silently agree to open the pantry door. Alice takes up position behind the door, while I stand ready to strike anything that might come out. More of the blood flows from beneath the door, rivulets flowing over the tile grout.

Alice reaches out and swiftly pulls the door to her. Nothing leaps out at us, but on the floor of the pantry lies the body of one of the kitchen workers, gut riddled with stab wounds. I carefully step around the blood, crouch down and check the poor sap’s pulse.

“He’s dead. We should keep going. We need to find Philip.” Alice peaks around the corner and nods, acknowledging my plan.

I slip back into the kitchen, sure not to step in the pool of blood. We move like ghosts through to the bar. It’s empty in here. No bodies, no blood. No more signs of struggle. It’s a relief. But still no sign of Philip. The curtains on the storefront are mostly drawn, casting shards of sunlight through the dining hall.

I gesture to Alice, urging her to check the back office. The door to the office is partly open, but when we try to enter, we find it jammed. I force the door the rest of the way open to find another corpse blocking it. Another kitchen worker, this time with only a single bullet wound to the head. The bodies of two more workers sit propped against the wall.

A sudden gasping noise catches both our attention. The sound came from behind the desk. Alice and I rush over finding Philip on the floor, gripping a bleeding wound in his gut. He’s alive, but barely.

Alice crouches down next to him trying to stem the tide of blood.

“Philip. Philip, what happened? Who did this?” Alice’s words hardly register with the bleeding man.

“Alice… Al…”

“I’m here. Philip. I need you to stay awake.” She taps his face waking him up just a little bit. He opens his eyes wide for a moment, lucidity momentarily flooding back.

“I’m still here,” he forces out through pained gasps. “It was hunters. Someone must’ve overheard us yesterday. They wanted your friend.”

“What the hell. They came after you? Did you tell them anything?”

“What do you take me for? Of course not.”

“Were you able to find anything out for us? Who paid for the bounty?”

“No, sorry. I couldn’t get to my contact before this happened.”

“Who’s your contact? Please. We need to know.”

“Desk. Top drawer. It has the intel for that job. And the name of my contact.”

“The job…”

“The job’s important. Please. If you don’t…” His voice started to trail off.

“Hey! Hey! No, no, no, you don’t get to die yet.”

“I’m…here…The job…please… lives are…” With a last gasp, his body goes limp. Alice and I watch in horror as the light leaves his eyes, mouth agape.

I don’t know what I expected from Alice after watching her friend die in her hands, but it wasn’t this. She just sits there, shaking, staring at her hands covered in Philip’s blood.

I move around the side of the desk, pulling open the drawer Philip had indicated. I dig through it and find a folder marked with today’s date. I grab all the paperwork and stuff it into my pack.

“Alice. Alice!” She looks up at me, glassy eyed, still all but frozen on the floor. “We need to go. Now. Whoever did this could have figured we’d be back here. We need to go.”

She sits there, just staring through me. Not really seeing anything. I round to the back of the desk. Grabbing her by the fabric at her shoulder, I pull her to her feet. She’s still dazed, but at least she’s moving.