Page 44 of Deadly North
“Choppa will be home in a little while,” Mack tells his mom, then turns to me. “I need to go do some stuff yet tonight. You’re in good hands now.”
“You come for dinner tomorrow,” Reenie says. “I’ll make one of your favorites.”
“I’ll try,” Mack promises. “I’ll text you if it looks like I won’t make it.”
“I think I’ll go unpack,” I say. “Is that okay?”
“Sure is. Your room is the last one on the right. It’s all made up for you.”
I start down the hallway. Reenie and Choppa’s home looks exactly the way I remembered it. It’s like a time capsule in here. As I disappear into my room, I hear Mack saying goodbye to his mom. “You take care of her, you hear me?”
“She’ll be fine,” Reenie tells him. “That girl needs some rest and some home cooking. She’s looking a little thin.”
The next morningwhen I wake up, I’m still full from dinner the night before. Reenie wasn’t kidding about trying to fatten me up. If I stay here too long, I’ll need to go shopping for some bigger clothes.
The house is quiet when I get up, and I soon see why. In the kitchen, I find a note from Reenie, saying she’s gone out grocery shopping. She leaves instructions for the coffee maker, and I gratefully make myself half a carafe.
Settling in with my coffee for a few minutes of social media scrolling, I’m trying to decide what to do with my day when I get a text from an unknown number.
Hey, Gigi, my name is Ryan Johnson. I’m a friend of Kelli Wartburg’s. I’m a tattoo artist, but I’m getting out of the business. Kelli said you might be interested in buying some of my equipment for a good price.
Huh.Kelli Wartburg? That’s sort of strange. I haven’t talked to her in quite a while. Still, I am always on the lookout for good opportunities to upgrade what I have. I type in a reply with one thumb.
Hey! What do you have available?
Ryan lists a few items and tells me how much he’s hoping to sell them for. It just so happens that one of them is a really cool collapsible table that I’ve been hoping to get my hands on for a while. At the price he’s offering, it’s a steal if it’s in good condition. I agree to meet him, and he gives me a time and a place.
It’s only after I’ve confirmed the appointment that I remember I’m theoretically not supposed to leave the house without protection. It’s only be a quick errand, though. Mack wouldn’t have to even know about it.
But then I remember that I don’t actually have transportation. My bus has been confiscated by the Royal Bastards, and my car is at home in my garage.
Feeling guilty that I was considering deceiving him, I call Mack and tell him about my predicament. He sounds preoccupied, but says he’ll send a prospect over with a vehicle big enough to hold the equipment in case I decide to buy anything. Half an hour later, the doorbell rings. I check the peephole. A youngish, scruffy-looking guy who matches the photo Mack sent me waits on the doorstep.
“Hi, I’m Tramp,” he says when I open the door. “Mack sent me.”
I bite my lip, amused at how much the nickname fits him. But he seems nice enough. In the car, Tramp asks me for the address, and says Mack wants me to text it to him as well. I do so while he drives.
When we get to the address, it turns out to be not a house like I expected, but an industrial-looking building. “Maybe it’s artist lofts or something,” I say to Tramp. He shrugs. A couple of cars are in the parking lot on the far side of the building, but they’ve both got a coating of dust on them that makes it look like they’ve been there for a while. Tramp and I get out and start walking toward our best guess at the main entrance. I text the guy we’re supposed to be meeting, saying that we’re here. He doesn’t answer.
“Maybe he’s running late,” Tramp suggests just as he pulls open the front door.
“Or maybe this is…”
Behind us, there’s a loud boom.
We jump and turn around just in time to see Tramp’s car explode.
“Ambush!” he yells. “Run!”
We sprint toward the building. Once we’re in the door I take off running as fast as I can, not looking back to see if Tramp is following me. Pushing open a fire door to a stairwell, I duck inside. The door slams behind me as I run up two flights. I peer through the narrow window of the door onto the third floor, which looks empty. I push through, being careful not to let this door make any noise this time. I tiptoe onto the floor, breathing as quietly as I can. The building seems deserted. But just then, loud noises from below tell me someone has arrived.
And I’m pretty sure I know who it is.
I race through the third floor, trying doors, but every one is locked, until finally I find a women’s restroom that isn’t. I push inside, rushing into a far stall and locking the door behind me. Panting, I send a text to Mack:
Its an ambush blaze is coming for us help
I press send, hoping desperately that Mack will see the text in time.