Three (Article 5 #3)(72)

Taking the back roads took time, and ten days after we’d left Endurance, we reached Birmingham. Like most of the others, they were cagey, but when they’d heard our report, and seen that we’d come to deliver the Statutes personally, they held a potluck dinner at the refectory of an old church. Some of the men even cleaned out the bucket atop of the trash truck for us.

We reached the outskirts of Atlanta at dusk the next day, and spent the night under the stars at an old rest stop. The next morning we entered the city, Chase and Jesse dressed as soldiers, me in my Sisters of Salvation uniform. Despite the MM’s heavy presence there, our spirits were high. The carrier, August, drove us right downtown, where we were released outside an old theater near a large factory. It must have been doing well enough; half a dozen civilian cars were pulling into its parking lot. We tried to play it cool, but so many potential witnesses made me nervous.

We entered through the back doors and found ourselves on a wooden stage, a heavy burgundy curtain marred by moth holes sweeping at an angle from the ceiling. The auditorium was silent, rows of dusty red velvet seats empty and broken, and the air was cold and stale. I shivered. It felt like we were preparing to give a performance to ghosts.

Hard-soled boots clicked across the stage, and the curtain was pulled back to reveal a man in clean slacks and a button-down shirt with a snow-white, handlebar moustache. I stood back reluctantly; he didn’t look like resistance.

“It’s been awhile since we’ve seen you, August,” said the man to the carrier as they shook hands. He had a thick, buttery accent.

“Stopped up,” said August bluntly. “These folks, they’ll tell you more.”

None of us spoke.

The man smiled. “Let me guess, I’m not what you expected?”

“Not exactly,” said Chase.

“Well set your mind at ease, son,” said the man. “I dress this way to keep my day job. I keep my day job because it helps feed the folks of this city.”

“And your work, what would that be?” asked Jesse.

“Food,” said the man. “Boxed food. Atlanta’s home to Horizons national distribution warehouse.”

This made me feel minutely better.

“Awfully trusting to come alone, unarmed,” said Jesse.

The man smiled again, his blue eyes twinkling. “Now what makes you think I’d do a thing like that?”

He snapped his fingers over his head, and suddenly three more men stepped out from behind the curtain, all with guns in their hands. Chase turned, and when I followed, another four were behind us. There was even a woman in a theater box lifting a hand from her rifle to send us a friendly wave.

For some reason, this calmed my nerves considerably.

Chase and I fell into our report while Jesse continued to assess our guards.

“You people responsible for that new sniper shooting?”

“The one near the Red Zone?” I asked, remembering what the woman had told me in the Smokys.

“Sure, that one. And the one last week in Chattanooga. Shot up four soldiers on a patrol. Report said there was a big one, two, three carved into the cruiser’s hood.” He held up his fingers to accentuate the point. “Reinhardt put down four more of his prisoners in retaliation according to the radio last night. Poor souls.” He smoothed down his moustache with one hand.

I froze. “We were just there and didn’t hear anything…”

Beside me Chase had stilled. Jesse found something fascinating to stare at on the ceiling.

“Excuse me a moment,” Moustache said when one of the guards behind him turned up the volume on his radio. As he turned back to convene with the three men behind him, Chase closed our small circle, boxing out August the carrier.

“Was that you?” The lines of Chase’s neck were pulled taut.

Jesse picked at something in his teeth.

He was going to act as if it were nothing. As if he hadn’t potentially compromised our mission and taunted the MM to come and find us.

“The prisoners,” I said. “Reinhardt killed more of our people because of you.”

“Once they hit that prison they were already lost,” said Jesse.

Not according to Billy, who might now have been among them.

“You should have told us,” said Chase.

“You should have told those women,” I said, the fury overridden by a sudden dose of fear. “What do you think the MM is going to do to their people now?”

“I did tell those women. Well, the one at least. Felicity.” Jesse sounded out the name and flashed a dangerous smile. “I have a better question. What do you think the civilians in town will do with that push?”

“That’s what the Statutes were for!” I shook my head, swallowing the growl.

Jesse leaned down until we were the same height.

“Are you sure you’re cut out for this, neighbor?” he asked. “War is ugly. Sometimes you’ve got to do things you don’t like and hope they’re better for everyone in the long run.”

“Like keep a man in a cage?” asked Chase.

Jesse lifted his chin. The tension hummed between them.

“Better if you don’t think of them as men,” he said finally.

Chase scoffed and turned away.

“Easier, you mean,” I whispered. It would have been easier to live with Harper’s death had he not been flesh and blood. Easier, but not right.